Page 49 of Racing Heat
“Why are you so evil?” Cassie says, then sticks her tongue out at me. “Our girl had an awesome game, and she doesn’t need to be punished.”
“You’re being a brat,” I tell her. “And for your information, it’s how we learn.”
“I am not. I just think you’re putting too much pressure on her. I mean, Amelia and I calmed her down. All is well in the world of Hendrix.”
“She’s not getting out of it.”
“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Brat,” I repeat and this time I’m rewarded with a middle finger.
“Don’t you have that pickup game tomorrow?” Hendrix asks me. “Isn’t our practice going to affect that?”
Cassie’s head snaps in my direction. The information Hendrix had about me that she didn’t must have bothered her. I’m not the only one who caught it. Mac is watching her carefully and then looking over at me.
The woman is just like her boyfriend—too damn perceptive for her own good.
I shake my head. “It’s Sunday, so the game will be after one sometime.”
“I didn’t know you played pickup,” says Amelia, who appears to have morphed out of nowhere.
“Where do you manifest from?” I ask her with a laugh.
“Oh, she’s like a freaking cat, so quiet and graceful. You don’t see her one minute, and boom there she is,” Hendrix says, clapping on the boom for emphasis.
“Yeah, I’ve always been a quiet girl.” She giggles and Cassie puts her arm around Amelia, pulling her in.
She’s the one who’s most quiet out of all the girls who hang out together on the team. I wonder if she’ll ever come out of her shell or if this is just the way she is.
“You coming out with us tonight?” I ask her, changing the subject so as to not really answer her question.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Amelia replies.
“Coach dismissed us. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Hendrix says, looking around at how empty the locker room is getting.
“Yeah, I wanna kiss Danny and then get ready for dancing,” Mac hollers. “And remember, we’re wearing our short skirts and sequins.”
Chapter Eighteen
~CASSIE~
Mac and I Uber over to the club, along with Amelia and Hendrix. It reminds me of the college days when Mac and I would Uber out to the bar and back so that we could enjoy ourselves and not have to worry about driving.
Mac told us all to wear our sequins, and most of us understood the assignment. Except Hendrix—the woman isn’t wearing any at all. Just a black fitted top and jeans. Mac is wearing something I’ve seen a few times in college—a tight pink sequin top with her black mini skirt. I went with an old favorite—a flowy blue sequin top with a pair of silky black shorts.
“Amelia, you look gorgeous,” I tell her for the fifth time tonight.
She just flushes at the compliments we’ve been paying her since she showed up. Her long blonde hair is pin straight, and she’s wearing a silver sequin dress that makes her look like the sexiest disco ball I’ve ever seen.
“Should we make it a mission to get you laid tonight?” Mac asks, grinning in her direction.
We all squeal, and Amelia is vehemently shaking her head. “We are not playing that game. There will be no getting Amelia laid tonight. Got it? I just want to hang out with you guys.”
I laugh. “Well, only one of us has a boyfriend who will be there, so only one of us will be off in the corner sucking face.”
“We don’t do that,” Mac says.
“Sure, you don’t,” Hendrix says with a laugh.
