Page 73 of Overtime
Beside me, Jamal says, “Obviously that’s the alcohol talking. Or did you forget we won our little friendly last summer?”
“Only by one goal,” Christine says with a roll of her eyes.
“Please, we couldn’t possibly go full force against a bunch of girls.” Archie puts his hand on his chest, and his arm brushes against Strawberry’s.
I hide my tight fists under the table.
That’s when I notice the girls have gone through at least two rounds of beer. An empty glass sits directly in front of Strawberry, blurring the view to her cleavage. Both a good and a bad thing.
“What’s with all the empty glasses?” I ask, having had enough of the banter.
One of the younger Strikes sighs. I don’t know her name, but Ryan points at her precisely and says, “Amber here got dumped, so we decided to celebrate our independence from men until you all decided to crash our party.”
“Hmm.” I hum too low for any of them to hear over the noise.
“Or,” Archie says with a shrug, “you could also celebrate your freedom to find a better guy. Am I right, Maddie?” He puts his arm around her shoulders and grins down at her, and she beams that sweet little smile of hers up at him.
“You guys want anything?” a server, appearing out of nowhere, asks beside me.
I thank the heavens for the interruption because I was just about to show my ass.
As everyone voices their orders one by one, Archie’s attention shifts away from Strawberry, and he drops his arm. Which officially means he lives to see another day.
Slowly, I start to cool down until I’m back to my iceberg self. Through the table’s chatter, I make a silent plan to replace the plan I made after the Kelsey debacle. There’s no way I’m canceling our tutoring sessions now. Instead, I’m going to rewrite Step One to something like swearing off girls except for Strawberry’s reverse tutoring—and not just on hockey.
As long as Coach never finds out about it, and I keep playing like today, it should work like a charm.
CHAPTER 22
MADDIE
Ishouldn’t have worn this shirt. The only other time I did was for a night out with Rebs and the others. The dress code had been to wear something tight and sexy, which, in retrospect, was probably hazing, because I spent the whole night too worried about my boobs spilling out to have any fun. And that’s exactly the concern I have right now.
What possessed me to wear it again?
The reason sits across the table. Him. And the fact that he awakened my hormones with a vengeance.
Not that Aran’s looked at me very much since they arrived. Which is good, honestly. This morning was a glitch in the matrix. Something that won’t happen again, and that did, in the first place, because he was teasing me. And because I wanted him to tease me.
Why isn’t he doing that now?
Right. We’re just hanging out with friends. This isn’t a book research situation.
“—do you say?”
“Huh?” I turn to the source of the question. Archie’s expression is calm, but there’s laughter in his eyes, and I don’t know what put it there.
“Darts,” he says as explanation.
“The Strikes here say they can wipe the floor with us at darts,” Jamal elaborates from across the table.
“We can and we will.” Ryan pushes her sleeves up. “And it’s perfect. We’re four against four. Let’s go.”
I laugh a little. “Um, I’m not a Strike, though.”
“You are now, babe. We adopted you the second we met you.” My roommate puts her arm around me, and I melt.
“Aww, guys. I’m so touched.”
