Page 15 of Siren's Heart

"I didn’t know your voice could get that high when you scream," Asher snickers, joined by voices farther behind him. Finally, I manage to wrestle the fabric away from my eyes, to face his smirking mug.

"I hate you," I mumble and bury my face in my hands. I wish I was one of those guys who lets out a manly, deep shout when they're startled, but I'm not. I sound like a five-month-old playing peekaboo. Or a girl from a horror movie. What can I say? It’s a curse.

"Wow, that was higher than my vocal range."

All my muscles turn into ice cubes, only thawing enough so I can slowly, ever so slowly, turn my head and look at Millie.

I'm going to fucking kill Asher.

She's even more beautiful up close. I can even see some freckles under her light makeup that I didn’t notice in the neon light of the hallways, and a dimple appears on her cheek as she shoots me a smile before she walks past us.

"Oh my God," I sigh and fall back onto the mat, burying my face in my hands. "You're a dead man, Asher."

"Oh, come on!"

"Dead," I reiterate and pull my hands off my face to get up. "I swear to God. The second time, she's in earshot, and I'm shrieking like a toddler."

"I'm sure she finds it adorable," Asher chuckles. “And she definitely won’t think that this is what you sound like during sexy time.”

Dead. He’s a dead man. His laughter gets stuck in his throat when I shoot him a glare.

"And I'm sure you enjoy getting kicked in the ass so deep you can taste the dirt from under my shoe."

He rolls his eyes. "You can't even kick that high."

"I've proven you wrong once already today, want me to do it again?"

"You've done no such thing, you cheating bastard." I narrow my eyes at him, and he does the same.

"Boys, boys," Adam interjects and gets right in the middle of us. "I thought handling my own brothers was bad, but holy fuck am I thankful we're not related."

"Stay out of it," Asher shakes his head, and Adam slaps him on the back of his head– hard. I bite my lips to not break into laughter, but I’m not very successful.

"Don't be a dick. It's clearly important to him. Say sorry."

It's amazing, really. Asher is taller than Adam, and his shoulders are probably twice as wide, but he looks like a scolded child right now. I love it. And I do my damned best to look like a kicked puppy, even though I have the biggest urge to display a smug smile.

He inspects my face, and it's taking every single bit of my acting skills to keep my face from falling and bursting into laughter. Breathe, Luca. Relax the muscles in your face.

"Alright." I tilt my head slightly, signaling that I’m listening. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry, I didn't hear you?" I raise my eyebrow, the corner of my mouth tugging upwards. When I see the glare Adam shoots me, I quickly school my face.

"I said I'm sorry," he repeats, but not without rolling his eyes and pushing out an annoyed sigh. "I'll make it up to you."

"I accept your apology," I tell him gracefully. He shoots me a funny look at the sarcastic undertone but leaves it be. As does Adam, but probably only because two of his brothers are sprinting over the field, trying to splash each other with their water bottles.

As we walk over to our own water bottles, which lie at the side of the field forgotten, Asher pushes me, and I stumble but catch myself at the last moment. As I grab my drink, I absolutely push my middle finger into his chest, but it only causes him to laugh.

"Oh, come on, don't act like I fucking pantsed you in front of her. I don’t know what your deal is. You're too chicken to even talk to her," Asher rants and shakes his head.

"I will talk to her. I just need an opening. I can't exactly sprint over half the field just to ask for her number, and I'm definitely not doing it when all of you are around," I answer him with a shrug. "I'm sure I'll get one soon enough."

He doesn’t need to know that I am, in fact, not sure at all. None of the guys I’ve talked to have ever officially met them. Their interactions don’t exceed comments on social media pictures, and I don’t want to be the creep who walks up to them unsolicited.

Once I'm done changing, I catch up with Asher, who's impatiently waiting for me in the hallway, tapping his foot against the ground. He hates having to wait around for me, but has to drive me back home after all.

With a smirk on my face, I follow him to the car and throw my bag into the backseat before climbing in. Asher’s phone chimes just as he’s starting the engine, and he hurries to check it before pulling out of the parking spot.

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