“Excellent. Just let me know if you need anything, yeah?”
Warmth flooded me at his offer. “You already do plenty.” It was true. Since his first season at Montview as a guest trainer five years ago, not only had he been offered a regular seasonal spot, but he’d also involved himself in Pride Youth when he’d discovered my connection.
“I do a bit, but you know if I can, I’ll always do more.”
I leaned against him at the bar, nudging him gently, giving him my silent thanks. What continued to amaze me was that while he could easily write a check for them, he preferred being actively involved.
Pearce sure did tend to go all in when invested.
CHAPTER2
PEARCE
I pressedthe app button again, and Cassius whipped his head in the direction of the door, his earlier confusion making way to frustration. With a huff, he grumbled all the way and tore open his front door.
“The fuck.” Slamming the door shut, he turned, grouching about “fucking nonexistent doorbells” and something about “selling the fucking place” and “pain-in-the-ass ghosts.”
“Just take your shot and stop procrastinating,” Joel said, straight-faced. A moment later he shot me the side-eye. From that look alone, it was clear he knew I had something to do with this fuckery.
I swallowed back my smirk. “Yeah, Cassius, get on with your shot.”
He flipped me off and lined up his pool cue. Bending low, he aimed, tongue sticking out slowly, concentration forming a deep line between his brows.
With his focus completely on the pool game, which he took far too seriously, I read that as my signal. Slipping my hand into my pocket, I angled away from my teammates whose focus was on the pool table. Phone in hand, I tugged it out, thumbed in my PIN, and once again pressed the button on the app that I was having far too much fun with.
The doorbell rang, persistent, annoying, and Cassius’s shot went wide, the white ball bouncing off the table in a spectacular fashion. It hit the ground with a thud just as Cassius shouted, “The fuck!”
I couldn’t take it anymore. My laughter spilled free, immediately drawing my friends’ attention.
“You dickbag.” Cassius threw his cue on to the felt table and stalked toward me.
Still laughing, I jolted in the other direction. “What did I do?”
“It was you. I should have fucking known. I don’t even have a doorbell.” He jerked to his right, and with the pool table between us, I dodged in the other direction.
“Hey.” I lifted my hands, palms out, not doing the best job at calming him since I directed a cheek-splitting grin at him. “You said you were… what did he call himself, Joel?”
“The god of sticks, and I quote, ‘Give me a stick and I can wrangle that piece like it’s a serpent and I’m a snake whisperer.’ I’m sure those were the words.”
I cracked up laughing. “Didn’t he proceed to list off the types of sticks he could… uhm… did he also use the word ‘rule’?”
Ollie, our team captain, snorted loudly, grabbing all of our attention. “Don’t mind me,” he said, gesturing to us with his beer. “You say stupid shit about dicks and cues, Cass, you’re on your own.”
Cassius crossed his arms, narrowing his gaze at me. “And I was whooping your ass at this game. But the fuck has my god status got to do with you and a doorbell, cockhead?”
Asking for trouble, I bounced my brows. “You also said you had the concentration of a…” I clicked my fingers, pretending I couldn’t remember the dumb shit my friend said.
“An alligator,” Joel added helpfully.
Amusement punched out of me once more. “Maybe concentrated juice. The weak kind,” I offered, darting to my left when Cassius made to move again.
On opposite ends of the table, I raised my brow in challenge. Cassius may be an exceptional shot on the basketball court, but I was a lot lighter on my feet. In response, he flipped me off and shook his head, not doing a great job at concealing the twitch of his lips.
“Right, my pains in the asses, you about done here? We finishing, or calling it now?” From the tone of Ollie’s voice, it sounded like he was a fan of the latter, and honestly, as much as I loved pissing Cassius off, I was beat too.
We had a game tomorrow. And while every game mattered, tomorrow’s mattered even more. It was why a few of us had got together at Cassius’s place to attempt to kick back and chill. Nothing heavy, beyond me finding ways to piss off Cassius. But to be fair, he’d set himself up with the whole stick thing.
The douche in him was strong, but he was still loveable as hell, almost as much as he was ridiculous.
