Page 305 of Branded
Nineteen
Cas
“Er-hmm.”
I glanced over at Smitty, who coughed again, then picked up his water bottle and took a long swig.
Fucker better not be getting sick and spreading that shit through the locker room. There was always one patient zero and then pretty soon everyone was hacking up a lung.
Kind of hard to play hockey when you could barely breathe.
“Er-hmm.”
Another glance toward Smitty, this time with narrowed eyes.
But all my teammate did was take another sip of water and continue on with tying his skates.
Okay, that was less patient zero and more full-on annoying Smitty-ness.
Case in point?
“Er-hmm!”
“Jesus fucking Christ, what Smitty?” Theo snapped—something that was uncharacteristically Theo, who was usually pretty easy-going.
Although, I had seen my friend and teammate cornered by a certain sports blogger and journalist turned television color commentator, had witnessed that easy-going disappear into a proverbial poof of smoke.
Eva Moreno was smart, took no shit, and had a body built for sin.
Exactly Theo’s type.
If their personalities hadn’t combined like oil and water.
And yet…I kept spotting them together.
Hmm.
Smitty, meanwhile, wasn’t bothered by being snapped at—then again, the troublemaker was probably used to it. He just straightened, took another swig from his water bottle, and then set it on the bench, lifting his brows…and turning a smirk in my direction.
Shhhhiiiittt.
“Er—”
“I swear to God,” Theo muttered.
“Hmm.” Sock balls were launched in Smitty’s direction, but he just ducked and then smirked at me again. “I hear that a certain favorite waitress is coming to the game tonight.”
More smirks turned in my direction.
“With…her son.”
Now raised brows joined the party.
Fuck.
“On Cas’s tickets.”
My groan was mental, but I was almost certain the rest of the room heard it because smirks turned to grins and Smitty said, “Finally got Jules to agree to go out with you, Cassy boy?”
