Page 102 of Pucking Them
D’Angelo perks up from where he’s sprawled at the edge of the booth in a designer gray suit, swirling a whiskey.
“Any song?” D’Angelo flashes a sharp grin.
Cody matches his grin. “Any song.”
“I’m guessing first.” D’Angelo shifts stiffly in his seat.
“And that’s not ominous at all,” Michael says, dryly.
Cody meets D’Angelo’s gaze challengingly.
My gaze darts over D’Angelo.
Since he returned from practice, I’ve worried that he has been moving awkwardly. He also flinched when I hugged him, avoided Shay’s touch, and retreated to the bathroom for an hour, locking the door.
Normally, he loves to welcome Shay or me into the shower or bath with him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I took some hits in practice.” But D’Angelo wasn’t meeting my eye.
Was he lying?
He’d promised not to do that. How could I accuse him, when I knew how important honesty was to him?
D’Angelo turns in his seat to face the bar, attempting to hide his grimace. Now that I am watching, however, I still catch it.
He studies Neve, who is collecting beers onto a tray from Tom, the small but feisty bartender.
Neve has chestnut eyes and spiky midnight hair. She wears large, horn-rimmed glasses. Her rich brown skin glows bronze on her cheeks.
Tonight, she is dressed in skinny jeans that are decorated with skulls. Also, a t-shirt with the wordsIT WAS NEVER JUST A PHASEwith an embroidered skeleton hand giving the finger.
I would never have guessed that the first partner she would have fallen for would be a sunny, adrenaline junkie.
When I was friends with Neve at high school, the most outdoorsy she got was camping in my back garden, and she only agreed because I promised to lend her my Green Day sweater.
But then,Ifell for a hot sunny blond. So, who am I to talk?
I hug Shay closer. He smiles down at me softly.
“Well, the mythical Lucy, who Neve has still managed to avoid introducing to us…” D’Angelo ponders.
“Rude,” I add.
“…has already taken Neve kayaking, mountain biking, and swimming with sharks. So, my guess is bungee jumping.”
Cody’s expression lights up. “Nope.”
Shay bounces on the seat. “Me next. It must be motorcycling. It’s the best feeling in the world. What do you call an emo on a bike?”
I arch my brow. “Is that a joke? What’s the punchline?”
“Neve on the back of a Harley, screaming I would imagine.” Michael chuckles.
Cody claps his hands together. “Wrong again. Ryn?”
My men’s honor rests on me. What’s the last thing I could imagine Neve doing?
