Page 20 of Knot Going Down
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slide it out, grateful for a distraction from the confusing energy swirling around our small group. Declan picks up his phone as well, and dials someone.
Lucas
I heard flights are canceled. Did you make it out alright?
I shoot him a quick response that we didn’t, vaguely aware of Declan speaking angrily into his phone. “I can’t control air traffic control towers, Curtis,” Declan says as another text pops up on my phone from Lucas.
Lucas
I may have a solution to your problems. A way for you to get back to America. If you do not mind a little pretending.
“I know we need to be back by next week,” Declan growls into his phone. “What do you want me to do?”
Gunner tilts his head and moves closer to Declan.
Wrinkling my brows, I try to guess what Lucas could possibly mean.
“What’s that look for?” Ava asks.
I show her my phone. Knox looks over my shoulder so he can read the message too.
“Who’s Lucas?” he asks.
“The hot Brazilian rugby player Em’s been chatting up.” Ava smirks.
Declan hangs up right at that moment, his eyes narrowing.
“Not chatting up,” I say quickly. “We’re friends. Harrison knew him from the last Olympics, and we hung out a little. That’s it.”
“Right.” Ava’s tone is disbelieving.
“How hot is he?” Knox wiggles his eyebrows.
“Hooooot,” Ava says.
Declan growls and pulls me into his side.
Ignoring the discussion about how attractive Lucas is, I hold up my phone for Declan to see. “He says he has a way for us to get home.”
“How would a rugby player have a way to get back to the States?” Declan asks, tone suspicious.
“Let’s find out.” Ava snaps my phone from my hands and hits the call button before I can protest.
12
LUCAS
I’m a little surprised to see Emily’s name flash across my phone screen. It’s rare for people to call these days when texting is so easy. But I’m glad for an opportunity to talk to her.
I’ve been wallowing since my team broke things off with me. Not because I feel heartbroken, but more because I don’t feel as heartbroken as I thought I would. They were right. We weren’t meant to be together, but my little romantic heart still stings from the rejection. A phone call from the woman who’s occupied my thoughts more than my former pack ever did is exactly the distraction I need.
“Hello, beautiful Emily,” I say, answering my phone.
“Nope. It’s Ava.”
“Ah, yes.” The lovely blonde with legs that would make any man fall to his knees. “I remember.”
“So can you get us back to the States or not?” Her direct tone is refreshing. I like a woman who takes charge.
