“I’m not being a pig. I don’t care that she looks hot for, like, me liking hot chicks. I care about what it’s gonna do to Kean.”
“It won’t do anything to me,” I grumbled, even as my shoulders stiffened. I’d seen her in athleisure wear that revealed just as much skin as a swimsuit. It was no different.
“Uh-huh. Then why aren’t you looking over at her?”
“Because there’s no reason to.”
“Christenson, is there a rule about lying around kids?” Sosa asked.
“Well, it’s normally frowned upon. But I don’t think this counts.”
“Fine. I’ll take matters into my own hands,” Brooker grumbled before his hand shot in the air, waving wildly. “Hey, Kodi!”
“Goddamn it.” I reached out to smack at Brooker’s arm and he grinned at me like the fucking Cheshire Cat.
“If you avoid looking at her now, you risk pissing her off more than you already have.”
“Already have? What’re you —”
“Hey, everybody, excited for the game?” Kodi said as she stepped into our little circle, taking up the spot right next to me. I didn’t turn to look, but I could feel waves of tension emanating from her. Brooker was right, I’d pissed her off somehow.
“Yeah, it should be fun,” Sosa said, picking up a conversation with Kodi that I didn’t listen to. I was too preoccupied by her presence and the temptation to look at her. Brooker was probably just exaggerating. She wouldn’t wear anything that wild to a kids charity event. Right?
It took two heartbeats before I broke, Brooker chuckling at me as I looked over at Kodi.
I’d been right. She wasn’t in anything scandalous. She wore a rectangular sports bra, or maybe a swim top, I’m not sure I know the difference, with little ruffles on the straps, a light pink that looked a little off next to a sunburn that stretched over her shoulders. Her shorts were a matching shade, with a thin, see-through fabric/skirt overlay thing.
No one would bat an eye at what she was wearing. Not unless they had a huge fucking crush on her and had trouble concentrating whenever she wears something new.
God, I was fucking pathetic.
“Kean!” Kodi said my name sharply, clearly irritated with me, like maybe she’d been calling my name for a bit.
“Sorry. What is it?”
“Can I see the game schedule?” she asked, nodding to the papers in my hand. I nodded and handed them over.
“Oh, you are so fucked,” Brooker said with a chuckle. “When are we playing against each other? 'Cause I’m gonna mop the floor with your ass.”
“We’re on the same team, idiot,” I grumbled and Brooker’s face dropped.
“Fuck.”
“What did I say about your language,” Christenson said, looking over his shoulder at the parking lot, where a sea of minivans were unloading.
“All right, Kean, Brooker, we’re on field three. Let’s go meet up with the volunteer ref and coach,” Kodi said, snapping the packet closed and taking off without looking to see if we were following her.
“I told you she was pissed,” Brooker whispered as we both jogged to catch up. “What’ve you been having her do all week tostress her out like this? Did you pull some guilt trip over her not remembering you?”
“No, I’ve just … had her do basic PA shit.”
“The other day she came to the stadium with like a dozen shoes.”
“I wanted to try out some different cleats and I didn’t have time to go to the store.”
“Sure. And thathadto be done this week while she was trying to push this event?”
I looked down at my shoes and didn’t respond.
