Chapter 12
twelve
Georgia
We’re only two weeks into the semester, but devoted as I am to dorky rituals, I’ve got my routine dialed in.
After classes, it’s homework and studying on the library’s third floor, where it’s extra quiet and offers plenty of empty tables.
Followed by a steaming cup of apple-cinnamon tea from the tea house right off campus, checking in on Aunt Julie’s place, and then home to change into comfy clothes to make dinner for me and Maisy.
I’m rounding the corner of Aunt Julie’s street when I spot a white plow-equipped truck in front of my house, then Aaron descending the front steps.
“Georgia,” he greets me with a timid smile as I walk up the driveway. “Hey. Sorry to ambush you.”
“You’re okay.”
“I came by to drop off our pricing sheet for the year. Just left it at the door. Ms. McKenna didn’t do email.”
“How thoughtful. Thanks.” Belatedly, I remember I owe him a phone call. “Sorry I still haven’t gotten around to deciding on lawn services. It’s on the to-do list.”
“Don’t even worry about it.”
“This week, I promise.” I smile and start to pass him. “Thanks again for stopping by.”
“Actually, Georgia. One more thing.” He slides his hands into his pockets and hesitates. “I wondered if I could take you out sometime. For dinner, maybe, or just coffee if you’d rather that.”
“Oh.” I can’t remember the last time I was asked on a date. It’s embarrassing and flattering and awkward all at once, especially because Aaron is undeniably cute—yet I’ve never once given him a second thought. “That’s so sweet. Can I get back to you? I wasn’t expecting that question, so—”
“Yeah, of course. You have my number, right? Just think about it and text me. No pressure.”
“Sure. I’ll let you know.”
“Awesome.” He nods. “See you, Georgia.”
Great. Another decision to add to my to-do list.
The dull thud of the knife hitting the cutting board adds an extra rhythm to the classical music playing from my phone.
Broth simmers on the stove, waiting for the carrots I’m chopping for our soup, and my stomach growls at the enticing aroma.
Hopefully my soup skills impress Maisy as much as my breakfast-making talents.
My phone chimes from the counter, stealing my attention, and my stomach flips at the sight of Cash’s name on the screen.
CASH: Hey, beauty. I’ll pick you up in an hour.
GEORGIA: Wait, for what?
CASH: How dare you forget game night at the football house.
GEORGIA: I didn’t exactly forget. Just didn’t think that was still happening. Because of what we talked about the other day.
CASH: It’s not an orgy, darling. It’s game night with friends.
CASH: And we’re friends.
My heart tugs. We’re friends. The way Cash keeps giving me exactly what I asked for will kill me one of these days.
Nerves threaten to climb up my throat as I step outside into the cold dusk air, and Cash is only half the reason. I’m terrible in groups, especially with new people. Not to mention I’m the least competitive person on earth.
Cash leans against the passenger door of his car in a manner that has no right to be as sexy as it is.
It’s only a casual stance, one leg crossed over the other, but he wears his untouchable confidence like armor.
Desire pulses through me at the sight of his wide chest and the way even his puffy coat can’t conceal the power locked up in his muscles.
He scans my body from head to toe and back again. “You trying to kill me?”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you look.”
I brush self-consciously at my jeans and pause before I get into the car. Standing in front of my closet earlier, I’d had a moment of uncertainty about how to dress for the occasion but settled on jeans and a basic white fitted sweater. “I look the way I always do.”
A little burst of pleasure erupts inside me when his green eyes lock on mine. “Exactly.”
Between my anxiety about the night ahead and my wondering if things are going to be awkward between me and Cash, I have little to say on the short car ride, and Cash himself is surprisingly quiet. Only when we pull up in front of the old white house where he lives does he look at me.
“My friends are gonna love you,” he assures me. Am I that transparent, or does he know me better than I like to believe?
“Think so?”
“I know so.”
I have no real reason to believe him, but somehow I do.
Every window glows with warm light as we approach the front door, Cash’s body brushing against mine, but through the buffer of our puffy coats, it’s not nearly enough.
Rock music spills from the empty living room, and Cash guides me toward the kitchen.
Passing the little DJ booth, I’m gripped by a visceral memory of what went down inside it. I can still taste his mouth.
A smaller group than I expected stands around the kitchen, everyone coupled up.
Thankfully, I met them all before, however briefly.
Lorenzo and Ruby, Cam and Lenni, Reeve and Jade.
Ruby, clad in a red Shafer jersey and tight jeans, draws me into the circle of girls like we’re old friends, never missing a beat in the conversation.
“Here, Georgia,” Lenni says after a few minutes and hands me a bottle of water. “Cash says you’re not a big drinker. Neither am I.” She pushes her messy curls out of her eyes and holds up her water in solidarity.
Jade, dazzling with her milkshake-pink hair and bright lipstick, throws up a hand before we can clink plastic bottles.
“Hey, stop trying to get the girl on your side and let her decide for herself.” She links arms with me and steers me toward a corner of the countertop laden with liquor and beer.
“No pressure, babe, but help yourself. With the boys all obsessed with training, these bottles aren’t moving lately. ”
“Thanks.” I hesitate, not wanting to embarrass myself despite being tempted to take the edge off my nerves. “What are you having?”
She holds up a glass with clear liquid. “Your basic bitch: vodka soda. Want me to make you one?” Reading me expertly, she nods to herself and gives me a playful push out of the way with her hip.
“Don’t you worry, I have a light hand—unlikely dart champion, believe it or not.
I’ll make you one, and you’ll drink it or you won’t. No hard feelings.”
I don’t know why I expected at least one of these girls to be a catty bitch—or at least standoffish.
My prediction, however, isn’t playing out as Jade hands me my drink and we return to Ruby and Lenni.
If anything, they’re competing with each other to be the nicest, gentlest, or most welcoming to me.
Ruby’s words from the party pop into my head, and I wonder if Cash gave them instructions to show me a good time or else.
After a while, we all gather at the scratched-up pine kitchen table, and Reeve tugs at the sleeve of Ruby’s jersey.
“Nice jersey. What’s the occasion?”
“Just over here being his number one fan.” Ruby shrugs, beaming at Lorenzo. “Celebrating the fact that my man is going to be a star.”
“Boo,” Jade jeers. “Can these boys go a single day without being worshipped at every turn?”
“Oh, please.” Reeve turns to her. “Like you haven’t been wishing and hoping for a chance to wear my jersey in front of everyone since the first time you laid eyes on me.”
“I’ve worn your jersey before.”
Reeve’s gaze heats as he looks back at her. “With panties on, baby.”
Lenni and Ruby whoop as the boys laugh, and Jade simply shrugs serenely.
“All right, what’s the game?” Cam asks, getting down to business. “Ship, Captain, Crew?”
Cash sets down his phone and slides him a cup of dice right as my cell buzzes with a text. “Can’t beat the classics.”
Sliding my phone off the table, I’m greeted by his message.
CASH: You know I’m gonna see you in my jersey someday, right? Panties optional.
A vision of Cash lifting his jersey to find me naked underneath swirls in my mind before I can stop it.
I lift my gaze, finding him watching me, one corner of his mouth tipping into a smile, and a throb of desire erupts inside me.
For a half second that feels much longer, I stare back, still swimming in imagination.
“So how’re we playing?” Cam asks.
I blink and look away, setting my phone face down on the table.
“Girls versus boys,” Ruby requests.
“Nah, let’s do pairs,” Cash says like he didn’t just send a text that got me instantly wet.
“Girls versus boys,” Ruby pleads. “It’s always more fun.”
Cash shakes his head. “Sorry, Ruby, this is our game night, we pick. You ladies are lucky we even let you hang out.”
“Fine, but Lorenzo agrees with me.”
“Man doesn’t live here, man doesn’t get a say. Pairs. Right, boys?”
A quick, indecipherable exchange passes between Cash, Reeve, and Cam before Cam nods. “Pairs.”
Triumph wafts off Cash in waves. Ruby shrugs and goes with it.
“Georgia, you know how to play?” Cash asks. When I shake my head, he grabs the dice off the table and hands them to Cam. “Let Cam teach you. I’m not good at explaining.”
Cam nods and spreads the dice out in front of him like this is serious business before launching into the rules, taking his time and making sure I understand each step before he explains the next one.
“Hurry up,” Cash says after the explanation goes on too long for his liking. “The highest you can roll is a twelve, the lowest is a one. She understands basic math.”
Except I already know the lowest you can score is a two, and this obvious fact hangs in the air until Reeve laughs. “But apparently you don’t. There are two dice—the lowest score is two, genius.”
“Oh yeah. Duh,” Cash says adorably.
Cam, apparently not wanting to see his friend embarrassed, stifles a smile and tries to move on, but Reeve is still at it.
“Georgia, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he tells me.
Cash shrugs. “Okay, so I’m not a rocket surgeon.”