Chapter 6 #2
The dog groomer’s place was the front rooms of the woman’s house. She accepted Romeo’s leash with a smile and told me when to come back.
Next stop was the dry cleaners for Daddy’s suits.
I pulled off the little two-lane road into the short strip mall and parked.
The sun was bright overhead as I crossed the lot and ducked under an awning.
Just before I reached the shopfront, the door ahead of me opened, and out walked none other than Jack Rutledge with an armload of hangers draped in paper and thin plastic.
“Can’t even get away from you on the weekends,” I growled. With anyone else, that’d have come off playful, but not him. My voice was too deep, too much bark, no matter if I wanted it that way or not.
Jack lowered his gaze to my feet and back up, nostrils flaring and eyes darkening.
The heat in my cheeks changed, grew hotter and colder at the same time, and then he leveled me with that indifferent glare he was so good at.
It had only been seconds, but he couldn’t hide that initial spark at seeing me.
But this was what I hated most. This was where it got confusing.
Yeah, I got off on his reaction and loathed when he hid it from me. But why, dammit? Why?
“What? Did I ruin some new prank plans of yours? Going to sabotage my dry cleaning? You’re running out of good ideas, Winters,” he mocked as he lifted his arm higher.
He probably meant to bring attention to the clothes or that I was too late for those stupid plans, but it only highlighted the toned arms in his sleeveless shirt.
A soccer player shouldn’t have arms that defined.
He smirked at my silence, drawing my stunned gaze to his parted lips.
Shit. Where was my mind drifting off to?
I threw his smirk back in his face. I didn’t know what he thought he knew about me, but that didn’t change the fact that I got under his skin just as badly.
“Jesus, calm down, Jack.” I went for the blatantly sarcastic high road. “Did they not starch your ass how you like it?”
“Me and my ass are just fine, but I appreciate your concern.” He shoved my shoulder, but there wasn’t any force behind it. As if he realized he didn’t want to touch me a little too late, he only glanced his palm across my delt, then grimaced.
I grinned, loving any sort of emotion I could get from him. With his eyes boring into me, fuming more with every second, I skimmed over the area he touched with my fingers. “Ah, so you are in a good mood. I barely felt that.”
“Know about my moods, huh? Stalker,” he fired right back.
“Oh, no stalkin’ required. You’ve only got the one mood—‘asshole’—but it’s got range.”
“You’re a little too focused on my ass right now.”
“Where else should I focus? It’s that thing on top of your neck, right?”
“You’ve got me confused with Ty.” He shrugged, and fuck, the combination of his flowing muscles and the lazy blink of his dark lashes sort of fried my thoughts for a minute. I almost let a chuckle slip. A smile made it, but I snorted and played it off as cocky instead. Hopefully.
The corner of his mouth ticked, for once breaking that infuriatingly even expression of his.
“I’ve never confused you with Ty.” The reply lacked all the animosity of my previous jabs.
Or maybe it wasn’t meant to. The last few seconds made no sense at all, and I could only swallow hard when he stared.
I opened my mouth as my brain tried to fill the thickening silence with some witty something that sounded more like me.
When nothing came, Jack rolled his eyes and walked away. “Fuck off, Cal,” he threw over his shoulder.
I slipped my eyelids closed and tried for a deep, calming breath to forget he’d just called me Cal, not Winters. Why did that hit differently? It was my name, after all, but I really couldn’t remember him ever saying it.
My name in his voice echoed between my ears, growing deeper and breathier each time. The fuck? I startled and blinked my eyes open just as Jack pulled out of a parking space in a Lexus I didn’t recognize.
Our conversation hadn’t been monumental, but it stayed with me as I finished the errands.
Romeo acted like a puppy when I picked him up, and we played until Cara’s friend brought her home from her sleepover. She picked up the tennis ball that had bounced her way and threw it for Romeo to chase. When he retrieved it, he brought it back to her instead of me.
“Traitor,” I hissed as Cara grinned and kissed all over the dog’s head.
“The football team is planning some great revenge on the soccer team,” she said in a sweet tone to the dog that didn’t match her words.
“What?” I snatched my phone out of my pocket and typed a row of question marks to Nick. At the game, he’d told me he’d de-escalated things. “Why am I hearing about this from you and not Nick or Michael?” I hadn’t really expected an answer but got one.
“My friend Kitty’s older sister is best friends with Anna, who’s dating Chuck Maylor. She told me.”
Okaaaay. Chuck was on the team, so maybe her source was credible. “Did the soccer team do something to get back at us for the jerseys?” It’d been a busy week, and I’d had a head full of Jack here and there, but I hadn’t been that disconnected.
Cara shook her head and pulled the sweet tea pitcher from the refrigerator. “Not that I know of, but the rumor says everyone is mad at the soccer team because you got detention. You know, that bro-code stuff or whatever.”
“What’re they planning?”
“I’m not sure, exactly, but I think it might be something with their field.”
I snapped my eyes to her and glared. Fuck, no. They couldn’t. “Why do you think that?”
“Anna said this new thing would be even more expensive, and they might not even have a season.”
“Fuck.”
Nick! Answer me, dammit! You have to stop whatever the team is planning. This can’t go on, man!
“Language!” Cara gasped in a perfect impersonation of Momma.
Nick
A little busy, Winters. Putting out fires as we speak. These dumbasses were planning on heading to Birmingham to buy tons of salt for the soccer field.
No. Fuck, no.
Nick
Working on it, bro. Keep your panties on.
I sagged into the counter, unfocused, which gave Cara an opening to snatch my phone out of my hand.
“Dude.” I snatched it back.
“What? Like you keep secrets from me.”
“I might.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “Salting the field isn’t the worst. Kitty and I were thinking dynamite.”
“Holy hell.” I snickered. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Maybe, but I made you laugh.” Cara came around the island and hugged my back. “Cheer up, Cal. The school can’t keep blaming you for everything.”
Heh. I wasn’t so sure about that.