Page 81 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“You’re slowly starting to lose the title of The Prof.”
“And you’re rapidly gaining the title ‘Henrietta with all the pain complaints,’” she counters with a hand on her hip.
“I don’t like how quick-witted you are,” I reply.
“And it’s a shame you’re so terrible at banter.” She lifts her chin.
“I’m not terrible, I’m just—” I start just as Timothy walks past me, Maple following him. He brings her to the balls where he shows her the different sized holes and weights.
I feel a jolt of jealousy and lean in close to Everly. “Are they a thing?”
Everly looks over at Timothy and Maple before shaking her head. “Just friends. He doesn’t want to date people in the same field as him. Apparently, Maple was thinking I could get to know him.”
That causes my brows to raise. “Oh really?”
“Stop that,” she says with a swat to my arm.
“Stop what?” I ask with a smile.
“Do not take this as an opportunity to embarrass me. You’re the one who fumbles, and I’m the one with class.”
“I usually don’t fumble,” I say. “I’m usually chill and easygoing. I have no problem talking to people, so don’t compare me to the likes of Brody.”
She gasps and holds her hand to her heart. “Don’t you dare speak so terribly of the ill. He’s fresh out of the hospital.”
“And doing fine,” I say with an eye roll.
“Still, it’s terrible to pick on the less fortunate.”
I chuckle as Timothy says, “So, have either of you bowled before?”
Maple joins us as well, which causes me to break out in a sweat. Fuck, maybe Everly is right, maybe I am the awkward one. I attempt to keep my eyes off Maple but rather focus on the people actually talking in the group—I’m sure it would creep her out if I stood there, heavy breathing while staring at her.
Be cool, man.
Be cool.
“Not regularly,” Everly answers. “But I’ve chucked a few balls before.” Why did she say it like that? “But can’t say much for this guy. He was just squealing about how he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t plummeting balls into the gutter.”
Squealing? Come on, Everly.
Timothy glances my way. “I thought Mario said you were decent.”
“He was being kind,” Everly says. “You know how men can be, pumping each other up, but I’ll tell it like it is. We need to remind him where to roll the ball…toward the pins, right, Hardy?”
I feel my nostrils flare. “Yes, toward the pins.”
“Maple, on the other hand,” Everly continues. “I think we might have a ringer—we shall see.”
“I don’t know,” Timothy says with a smile. “She was confused about the different balls.”
“It’s called a fake-out, so you’re surprised when she does well, or not surprised when she sucks,” Everly says while tapping her temple. “She’s a smart one.”
“She is,” I add for good measure but get zero response from Maple.
“Well, help yourself to some pizza. I think we’re going to get started very soon.”
“Thanks,” Everly says and then grabs a plate. “I wonder if they have pineapple.”
