Page 122 of Under Pressure

“Maybe?”

“You don’t even know what your girlfriend brought you?” Kellan pushes.

Finn sidesteps Jett and walks up to me with that weird green drink extended.

My brows jump. “Aubrey brought this for me?”

“No, dumbass. It’s from your girl, not mine.”

“She’s not—” I don’t make myself finishthe sentence.

With my shoulders back, I take the cup and inspect it. The green fluid has mixed with what I think is milk, but there are some chunks floating in it. There’s no straw, only the tiny hole in the side of the lid.

“You have to try it,” Finn adds, nudging his chin toward the cup.

“Did you see her?”

Sympathy floods his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Right.”

“She looked like she wanted to bring it herself.”

“But she didn’t,” Kellan grunts.

His tone grates on me the way it has for the last two days. After the engagement party, he grew even more frustrated with Quinn than he had been the entire time I’d been with her. He’s never trusted her, and as much as it fucking burns to admit, he called it.

That doesn’t mean I’m a fan of him getting snippy when she’s brought up, though. I’m still in love with her. I don’t see that changing for a long, long time.

I turn away from my teammates and bring the cup to my lips. The first taste has my eyes burning as a cough tears through me. It’s like running my tongue across the inside of a sushi roll, and not in a good way. The milk didn’t lessen the taste in the slightest. I scrub my mouth with the back of my hand and swallow excessively to try and clear the taste.

“Oh, fuck. That good, eh?” Jett barks a laugh.

Wes joins in, suddenly beside me. He smacks my back. “Yeah, I didn’t want to say, but that shit tastes like grass.”

“Grass? No, it’s fishy.”

Turning back around, I’m already handing the cup back to Finn. He takes it, watching me with his lips pressed tightly together.

“Why did she bring you that, dude? Think she planned on poisoning you?” Wes asks.

I swallow again, trying not to gag as the taste lingers. “Anyone got water?”

“Catch.” Kellan throws his bottle at me, and I squirt the cold water into my mouth.

Finn reaches past me to set the cup in my locker, his eyes lingering on it for just long enough to draw mine to the same spot. I block the rest of them from looking at it and reach for the wall.

(BB): Pitcher can’t find the zone. The batter walked to first base after pitcher threw 4 pitches called balls. You hardly do this.

I’ve seen it enough to know it’s Quinn’s handwriting. Not even my blaring confusion can keep me from smiling at it. It’s the most contact we’ve had in a week. I want to kiss the cup, to hell with all the guys watching me.

“What do you want me to tell her, Beck?” Finn asks.

I tense my jaw, dropping my head. “Whatever you want.”

“Come on. She’s clearly trying here.”

“To do what?” Kellan asks, annoyed. “She waited until right before a game to bring him that, and he didn’t even like it. No offense, but it’s cowardly?—”