Page 292 of Playing Dirty

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Forty Seven

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

MASON

I shouldn’t have been waiting for her reply.

But I was.

Standing outside the gym with my bag slung over one shoulder, pretending I wasn’t checking my phone every ten seconds like an idiot.

Luca came out behind me and immediately clocked it.

“You look pathetic,” he said.

“Go away.”

“Is she home yet?”

“I said go away.”

That was enough confirmation for him.

He grinned. “You’re actually cooked.”

I started walking before he could keep talking.

The air outside was cold enough to wake me up a bit, which was probably necessary.

Coach’s voice was still in my head.

“You’re playing like someone waiting to disappoint people.”

Yeah.

That one stuck.

My phone buzzed.

Finally.

Rowan:

I’m home.

Stop acting like a paranoid dad.

I exhaled a little without meaning to.

Then typed:

Mason:

Good.

Three dots.

Rowan:

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