“I’m so excited! I know we probably won’t end up on the same team, but you’ll be playing and it’s going to be so much fun!” She practically bounced up and down from the excitement. I dared a glance around the room, all of the guys exchanging glances while Nate got up to grab another beer.
Zayn, Kaptan, and Cashton seemed to have something unspoken going on between the three of them which I decided to ignore for now. At least Cashton hadn’t made any snarky remarks tonight, which I counted as a win so far. And if the teams were selected at random, there was little to no chance of me encountering him—fingers crossed.
“Bex, you have to play too! I know it sounds scary but I promise it’s all fun, you have to!” Olivia pushed, grabbing Bexley and dragging her into our hug.
“Okay.” She answered timidly, taking me by surprise.
“Bex!” I laughed, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I mean, we have to show these boys up, don’t we?” The guys had no retort, all of us stunned. I guess my roomie had a competitive side that I had yet to see, and I loved that for her.
“You guys better watch out, fishies tend to be the easiest targets.” Nate teased, his eyebrows wiggling up and down as he taunted us on our freshman status.
I laughed, rising up to the challenge in his tone.
“Oh, we’re so ready.”
CHAPTER 6
LANDRY
The following week was pretty uneventful for the most part. I practiced my cooking after school, something that was quickly turning into a nightly routine, and I thoroughly enjoyed pushing myself to try new things and watching cooking tutorials whenever I had the chance. This week, I had focused on French cuisine, making things such as coq au vin and homemade quiches that hadn’t lasted more than a few hours between Bexley and I devouring them.
There was something deeply satisfying about putting on my favorite show and getting to work in the kitchen. The joy of successfully creating something delicious, something I could share with others, felt like a unique way of spreading love. It might sound strange, but I cherished that feeling—nurturing through food, even in the simplest of ways.
I think a lot of it might also have to do with the fact that I was never allowed to cook growing up. That sounds horrible, and it isn’t as if I was actually banned from the kitchen oranything, but we had a professional chef catering to all of the cooking for our family and any time I asked if I could make something for my parents, I was quickly dismissed and shooed away. Given that yes, the one or two times as a child that they had allowed it thinking that it was cute, the resulting food had barely toed the line of edible. But I had been a kid, and what I had wanted more than anything was to learn so that I could get better.
Maybe a part of it stemmed from wanting my parents to be proud of something that I did, or at the very least see the effort that I put into it. But why let a little kid cook dinner when you have a five-star chef that you’re already paying to do so? So eventually, I gave up on asking, considering it a lost cause. And now living away from home, I could finally do some of these things for myself.
Not that I can complain about having grown up with a private chef. I knew that I was more fortunate than most, but a part of me always wanted a bit more freedom, and if I failed, I would learn from my mistakes and get better.
“Where are you going this late?” Bexley asked, walking through the door from her last lab of the day to find me putting on my shoes.
“I’m just going down to the shelter, Debbie texted me asking if I could go do feeding and turnover tonight since she had something come up with the kids. I told her it wasn’t a problem, it shouldn’t take me more than an hour tops.”
Bexley scrutinized me as she took in my running gear.
“Please tell me you’re not walking.” She asked.
“I’ll be fine, it’s only a few miles! That way I can get a good run out of it. And don’t worry, I have my pepper spray andmy taser so I’m all set to go.” I gave her a wink, knowing that her true crime shows made her paranoid when it came to my running in the dark. “And don’t forget that I took a few self-defense classes in high school.
Bexley looked perplexed, most likely ready to offer me a ride but knowing that I would turn her down just like the last few times she had offered. Eventually, she relented to just giving me the ‘make sure you have your location shared the whole time and text me as soon as you get there and as soon as you leave’ spiel.
I ended up running the first half of the way and walking the second, still working on my stamina since this whole running thing was pretty new for me. At least I was improving each time. There was a shortcut directly through the woods to get to Benbrook proper, but I avoided that road at all costs.
The narrow, windy roads through the thick spread of trees was filled with abrupt turns and bad visibility, not to mention the fact that I didn’t have any reflective gear so I would be outright asking to be hit by a car. That road made me nauseous, thinking about all the accidents that had occurred, including the one that I had been involved in. Instead, I stuck to the more populated residential streets with actual sidewalks.
Unlocking the shelter doors with my new set of keys, I made haste in making sure all of the animals were fed, watered, and cages cleaned just as Debbie had shown me. The place seldom had visitors other than the owner and myself, along with a few other volunteers that I had yet to meet. People around here worried more about their golf memberships and fancy luncheons than the local animal shelters.
At least Bexley shared the same love for animals, having grown up with horses. She even went as far as to sneak her littletuxedo kitten, Scamper, into the dorms to live with us. Something that was very much welcome by me, and I loved my little ‘nephew’.
Sneaking a kitten into the dorms was one thing, though, but a dog would have to constantly be let outside, which I doubted I could keep secret while living on campus. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to a dog to live with that quality of life. But as soon as I moved off of campus, I was fully set on adopting.
After locking up for the night, I put my earphones in and took off in a light jog. Rounding the corner, I spotted the boxing gym that the guys had mentioned, the lit-up sign reading ‘Savage Strike’. The center was owned by the Zayn and Kaptan’s family, one of the many business ventures outside of the Hawthorn’s multi-million-dollar high-tech security company.
With the lights still on, I could easily see through the glass front of the building. My breath caught as I watched Cashton and Kaptan on the mats, both shirtless, which was a sight that was hard to tear away from.
Sweat gleaned over their toned forms, Cashton’s muscles coiled as he threw hit after hit. I couldn’t seem to look away from the intensity and concentration in his features, along with that tiger tattoo moving beautifully on his golden skin. It was easily close to midnight now, but I guess they weren’t done sparring yet. Forms like that required some upkeep after all.