17. Arnaz
ARNAZ
“The Flake”
Not today, maybe tomorrow?
After it’s lifted, this here sorrow.
“ Y o, we gotta fucking rebound,” I drill into the guys.
“Play your positions and don’t let up on the gas,” Sid adds. “We got this.”
Salem soars through the air as soon as the second quarter resumes.
We don’t got this.
Eclipsing Nick’s reach, he blocks his shot with a casual rage that leaves Nick stunned.
Fuck me.
If I freaked him out at Catharine’s party, he isn’t showing it. At all.
But how?
The times I’ve gone “quiet” in front of people, they’re awkward as hell afterward. I’ve been dreading this game, fully expecting another ice-out from him like last game, but as soon as we saw each other on the court, he blew a kiss at me, making the crowd laugh.
Still, I tested the waters last quarter by lifting a middle finger at him.
“It’s like that?” he asked, moving in to guard me. “It’s my fault your boys out here just for cardio?”
“You talk like you’re winning.” My voice was flat as I pulled the ball back like I was about to drive.
“Just sayin’.” He boxed me in. “You sure y’all on the same team?”
“Nah, they with us,” Cillian interjected as he swooped in, attempting a steal.
I was faster. Dipping low, I pivoted, spun off Cillian, and launched the ball to Sid, who caught it without looking and swished it.
He smirked and shook his head. “Hey, if I win, come to my sex dungeon tonight.”
“You’re not winning,” I replied as I raced backward.
But not before he winked, catching the twitch in the corner of my lips.
So, yeah, he’s acting normal.
Huh.