And Monroe had watched the game. Nobody made her. She turned it on herself.
I muse over what that means.
The logical part of my brain tells me thatof courseshe watched. It’s her dad’s team. She’s probably watched hundreds of his games by now. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
She didn’t have to text me about it, though.And that’s true enough to put a grin on my face.
Her last text shines on my screen.
Monroe (10:20pm):Congrats on the win, Rhodes.
A grin sneaks through my moody demeanor, curling across my mouth, and I drag my hand across my face to get rid of it.
It doesn’t work.
She’s under my skin and Ilikeher there. I close my eyes and, instantly, it’s her. Hazel eyes, freckles scattered across her nose. Her full bottom lip. My brain paints a picture of her tongue, darting out to wet her mouth. Of my hands tangled in her wine-stain hair, tugging gently so I could kiss the soft skin just below her jaw. Would she like it? I find myself desperately wanting to know what she likesexactly. And wondering if she’d ever let me do anything about it. These fantasies about Monroe have been getting more and more frequent and I’m doing a piss-poor job at not indulging in them.
My phone buzzes aggressively in my hand and I jump, torn out of my inappropriate Monroe daydream.
Beck (5:50pm):Hey man. You good?
Me (5:51pm):Yeah, I’m good.
Beck (5:51pm):HE LIVES.
I smile at Beck’s response and go over to my Wolverines group chat, The OG Wolverines. Callum named it after all the trades over the summer, and none of us cared enough to change it back. It fits, I guess. It’s just the guys from the year before, the ones that have come to feel like my family.
I open it up.Big mistake.The unread messages tally up well into the fifties.I brace myself and scroll.
Rhodes (5:55pm):Why do you guys text so much. I have like 55 unread messages.
Finn (5:56pm):You wouldn’t have so many unread texts if you’d read them?
Beck (5:57pm):Dinner @ Rhodes’ house?
Rhodes (5:58pm):No.
Callum (6:00pm):That wasn’t a real no. That was a weak little “no” that actually meant “please, I’m lonely.”
Tyler (6:01pm):Cal’s already in his car. I’ll bring beer.
JD (6:02pm):I swear to God if you bring that cheap-ass beer again.
Finn (6:03pm):JD’s a snob. Get the cheap beer.
JD (6:05pm):Get something that doesn’t taste like ass.
Rhodes (6:06pm):I’m not letting any of you in.
Beck (6:07pm):I have a key!
Idiots. I smile, though.
* * * *
The guys arrive at my house in twenty minutes and let themselves in.
“Rhodesy!” Callum shouts, voice bouncing off the walls.