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I punched him in the arm. “I didn’t say we were dating.”
“You don’t have to say shit. I know that expression because I saw it on my fucking face every day I didn’t want to admit how I felt about Hannah. I knew it was coming since Cassidy’s party.”
“Just because I want to fuck a girl more than one time doesn’t mean I’m in fucking love with her. I fucked Shelby more than once.” I winced immediately after saying the words. I knew I was scrambling and acting defensive, but putting Ava and Shelby in the same conversation was a ridiculous false equivalency that left a sour taste in my mouth. I finished off my beer to erase it.
“Oh, that’s what you’re saying? Ava and Shelby are the same to you?”
“Of course not,” I barked, again, sickened by the comparison, even though I was the one who had implied it. Already unsettled, I felt my stomach flutter with uneasiness when I saw Hannah walk toward us alone.
“Where’s Ava?” I demanded more harshly than intended.
Hannah jerked her head back in surprise. “She’s talking to Mike.”
Jealousy and apprehension twisted my stomach into knots. “What? You left her with that asshole?”
Hannah smirked. “He’s hardly a serial killer, Jack.”
We all heard the chime of a text message and checked our phones simultaneously. I looked down and saw a text from one of our friends, Donavon Carter.
Carter: I just heard the basketball team has a bet with Crenshaw to see if he can nail Ava Fisher. If she’s your girl, you better come get her. Crenshaw’s trying to hit her up right now.
“What the fuck?” I read it again, my hand tightening on the phone until I thought the screen would crack. “That fucking asshole, I knew she shouldn’t have trusted him.”
“What? What does it say?” Hannah asked, clearly alarmed by my reaction.
I tossed my phone to Nikolai, so he would know what was going on, and ran to the house.
****
Chapter 25
Ava
I watched Hannah walk out the door, already regretting this scheme. I quickly discovered that Mike’s favorite subject, when we weren’t talking about math, was himself. He was in the middle of telling me about his free throw percentage, whatever that was, when one of his teammates, John something, came over to him. I couldn’t remember his name, but he was tall, so in my head I always call him Tall John.
“Hey, Crenshaw, keep up the good work,” Tall John said, giving Mike a wink and punch in the arm.
Mike shot him a glare. “Shut up, Haggerty. Get the hell out of here.”
Haggerty – that was his last name.
Tall John’s smile broadened, but he walked away.
“What is he talking about? Good work?” I asked suspiciously. I figured any time a guy winks at another guy when that guy is talking to a girl, something was up.
Mike looked a bit flustered and annoyed. “Nothing.”
I looked at him skeptically. “Nothing? He said good work for no reason at all?”
Mike cleared his throat. “No, I mean, it didn’t mean anything. He was talking about practice.”
I didn’t necessarily buy that explanation, but figured teammates had a million inside jokes, so ignored it.
Mike’s expression quickly transformed from agitation at being interrupted to overtly flirtatious. “Listen, Ava, I really like you. I don’t want to keep getting interrupted, so what do you say we head upstairs and hang out alone for a while?” As he asked, he reached up and put his hand on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb against the exposed skin at my neckline.
I jerked back, dislodging his hand, moving myself away from him to lean against the kitchen counter. “What are you doing?”
Mike frowned, but shrugged, as if unbothered by my rejection of his touch. “As I said, I like you. I thought we could spend some time getting to know each other better,” he said in a smoky voice that I imagined he thought would be seductive, but just came off as sleazy. Had this worked with other girls?
