She may have agreed to this arrangement, but she still doesn’t buy it. She doesn’t believe that I’m genuinely into her. Or maybe she does, and it’s something else making her hold back. I don’t know. But she is holding back.
I don’t have time to dwell on it this afternoon though, since I have football practice followed by an intense session at the gym with Trick.
“Oi, Princess,” Mase calls to me from the open door to the locker room where we get changed and ready for practice.
I tilt my chin to him, “S’up, Pretty Boy,” I return our customary greeting.
A big goofy smile is plastered on his face, “What?” I ask.
“Have you noticed how hot Scout got? Seriously, bro, how did I not notice that? She’s smokin,’ in that I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, kind of way,” he says with a dreamy expression.
Frowning, I punch him lightly in the shoulder as I push past him to enter the locker room, “In case you haven’t noticed, Chance is the only chick that’s been on my radar lately.”
Mase rubs his shoulder absentmindedly, “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t get it. I mean, yeah, she’s hot and all, but she’s fuckin’ weird. Did you read her shirt today? That right there is a sign man, she’s a sociopath or some shit.”
This time when my fist makes contact, it’s not lightly, “Shut the fuck up, Mase, you don’t know shit.”
He starts grinning, “You’ve got it b-ad,” he draws out the word.
I shrug as I tug my shirt off and start changing, “Maybe I’m just sick of airheads?”
Mase frowns, “Why? We don’t hook up with them for their conversational skills.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but smirk, he’s totally right. He’s holding his fist out toward me, waiting for me to bump it with my own. Reaching out blindly, I bump my fist to his and chuckle to myself.
On our way to the field, I see Chance wandering toward the building that houses the photo lab, that Kassidy dude by her side, and I decide to go see her when I’m finished with practice. Unfortunately, by the time we make it to the field, Coach is already pissed about something, which means this is going to be an extra long practice.
“Fuck,” I mutter, as we approach the group of guys Coach is already chewing out.
Then his eyes land on me, and narrow, “Cross, where the hell have you been? You think you’re too good to arrive on time like the rest of the team? Laps. Now. Don’t stop till I tell you to.”
I don’t say anything, I just drop my gear by the benches then take off. I fucking hate it when people make assumptions. I was late because I stopped to help Professor Collins out to her car with all her shit. I swear she’s nearly a hundred years old, but she hasn’t retired for god knows what reason. But I like her, she’s tiny but she’s got balls of steel, kinda makes me think of Betty White. I’ve never seen her take shit from any of her students.
What I want to do is ram Coach’s assumptions about me down his throat, and tell him to go fuck himself and his team. But I can’t, not yet. I have to bide my time. The year is nearly over. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose as I push myself to run harder, faster, to push my frustrations down until I can get to the gym and let it all go.
“Two more months, just two more months,” I repeat it over and over under my breath as I run.
I don’t know how many laps I’ve done when Mase joins me and matches my stride, “What are you doing?” I ask.
“You left me with those fuckwits, I had to mouth off at Coach so I could come run laps with you,” he says, like it’s obvious.
I seriously love this guy. He’s always got my back. Even in this, football isn’t a big deal for Mase either, he does it for me. I’ve never asked him why, but I think about it a lot. How did I score this guy as my best friend? Especially after I was such a dick to him when we first met back in Kindergarten. I was all of five years old and told him to fuck off and play with someone who wanted to look at his stupid face.
But he stuck around, and he’s still here, by my side, eighteen years later. Every step of the fucking way. I don’t deserve him. But I’ll never try to send him away again. I need him now.
As soon as practice is over, I pull my phone out of my duffle and call Trick. He answers straight away, “You better have a good reason for not being here,” he says, instead of a normal greeting.
“Yeah man, Coach had the shits and pulled a double. Had me running laps all afternoon. I’m skipping the showers and I’ll be there in ten,” I tell him, hoping he will wait for me.
Silence, then a deep exhale, “Fine, hurry the fuck up,” then he hangs up.
We forgo the shower like I told Trick, and I throw my duffle over my shoulder as I jog to the parking lot, Mase not five feet behind me.
I skid to a stop when I reach my car and Chance is leaning back against the hood in all her nerdy little psycho gorgeousness. My mouth goes dry when she lifts her eyes to mine.
“Hey,” she says softly, with a little wave of her hand.
“Hey,” I reply, my breathing is still harsh from running laps then jogging out here.
Chance frowns a little, “You in a hurry?”
“No,” I reply at the exact same moment Mase says, “Yes.”
She raises her brows in surprise, “Uh, okay, it’s okay, I’ll talk to you another time,” she looks down at her Alice in Wonderland shoes as she begins walking away from me, toward her car.
My hand shoots out to grab onto hers as she passes me, “Wait, what’s up?”
She’s chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, and I can’t help myself, I reach with my free hand and tug it from between her teeth with my thumb. “What’s up?” I repeat.
She shakes her head, then clears her throat, “It’s nothing, saw your car here still, I was just going to say hi before I head off.”
My fingers are still wrapped around her wrist, and I can feel her pulse beating rapidly beneath my fingertips. I smile down at her, liking that she wanted to see me, but pissed that I don’t have time for her. Quickly, I drop my head at the same time I tip her chin up so I can kiss her soft lips.
Her pulse speeds up when my lips graze hers, then again when my tongue pushes into her mouth. I grip her chin tighter, afraid she will pull away as I deepen the kiss. My tongue slides against hers and she leans into me a fraction, but it’s enough. I pull away, just slightly, “I have to go, I’ll call you tonight,” then I drop one more kiss to her lips because I can’t stop myself.
I don’t wait for her answer, I don’t have time to argue with her if she tells me not to. So, I turn on my heel and get in my car, where Mase is already waiting for me. I adjust the semi in my shorts and Mase snorts. Ignoring him, I turn the ignition and head for the gym.
Trick is pacing outside the ring when I bust through the door, his eyes narrowing on me when the doors bang against the wall behind them from the force of my push. He glances at his watch, “You said ten minutes, it’s been almost twenty.”
“Sorry, won’t happen again,” I say, throwing my duffle on the floor outside the ring and rolling under the ropes.
“It better not, Carter,” is all he says in reply. Then he climbs into the ring with me, and it’s go time.