"She cheated on me. He cheated on you. What do you say? Want to settle the score?"
***
Kate Wilson, a hot-headed Dragon striker, and Rosie Connelly, an uncredited behind the scenes Sea Lion captain; witness Kate's...
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The sun radiated out of my boyfriend's pores.
Apollo himself couldn't have shone brighter. I'd focused so much on the game and my rivalry with Rosie Connelly that I'd blanked that he sat here watching from the stands.
He couldn't stay still; his knee jumped up and down and his fingers danced against his glaring camera. It was as if I'd come home from war and he was a giddy dog that didn't know what to do with himself and so just wriggled in one place.
Carter opened his arms wide enough to hug the world.
This reaction wasn't what I expected at all.
Tension drained away from my shoulders and I had the inability to form a proper response.
Obviously, a mental switch had flipped since he'd glared daggers at me for my side-hug with Dan earlier on the field.
He realized Dan was harmless.
Maybe the break had been good for him-for us.
We had a chance now.
I should've waited until after the game to talk to him, but blanking him while he smiled at me so sweetly would've been rude.
He'd turned a corner. That deserved acknowledgment. It deserved to be celebrated. We didn't need to say anything serious right now anyway. There'd already been an airing of dirty laundry today. I didn't plan on stripping down anytime soon and from the looks of it, he didn't either.
It'd been two weeks, and I'd missed him.
And he'd missed me, too.
"I didn't know you were coming," I commented, ruffling my cousin's hair on my way up the steps to join Carter temporarily.
"I didn't either, but my boss let me off early, so here I am," Carter informed me, taking off his jacket and placing it on the space next to him. He motioned for me to sit down as he retrieved something from his backpack. "I brought you a celebratory smoothie. It was supposed to be for after the game, but you're here now . . ."
He handed me an see-through plastic cup the Beanery logo plastered across the middle. It was full with a thick dark pink substance.
Cranberry Crush.
A terrible crawling sensation down the flesh of my throat made me recoil.
"Your favorite," he said, pushing it out farther toward me.
"Thank you," I replied, offering a forced-smile and taking it.
I hated Cranberry Crush.
I'd already told him that before. I didn't have the heart to tell him again, not when he held his breath, waiting for me to take a sip. So, I did, and tried not to wince too hard. I shivered on purpose and made it seem like it was the cold sensation that caused me to flinch and not the god-awful flavor attacking my tastebuds.
