“Yeah. Sorry.”
He grins anyway, unbothered. "Maybe next time, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
Ugh.
Gross.
I shove a piece of bacon into my mouth to hide my irritation.
Cash carries on like he hasn’t just made my skin crawl. He continues rambling about his trip—how his sponsor picked up a new talent, some ‘chick from Canada’ that they expect him to travel with.
Turner listens, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee, looking so effortlesslycalmit makes me want to throw a piece of toast at his stupid perfect face.
Especially because every once in a while, his eyes flick to me.
I roll my eyes when Cash isn’t looking.
He sticks out his tongue.
Cash wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Anyway, we're pregaming at the bar before hitting TopSpin if you're feeling spontaneous later." He points at me with his fork. "We need more hot girls on the roster. It's a numbers game."
I lift a brow. "Thanks for the flattering invite. I'll cherish it forever."
He looks at me blankly, confused by my sarcasm.
“Well gentlemen. I’m going to shower and use this day to be productive. Time to start getting into a work routine.” I scrape my chair back, mutter more words about needing to finish unpacking, and make a beeline for my bedroom before Cash can invite me to anything else that involves “hot girls” and “numbers games.”
The second the door clicks shut behind me, I let out a groan and flop face-first onto my bed.
Reach for my phone.
Text Nova with violent thumbs.
Me: Update: I survived breakfast—but barely. Cash is like... if a Monster energy drink had a baby and learned how to snowboard.
Nova: LOLOLOLOL STOP IT
Me: I’m being dead serious. He invited me to “pregame” at the bar tonight. Actual quote: "We need more hot girls on the roster."
Nova: I’m SCREAMING. Did he actually???
Me: Girl I wish I was lying. I feel so bad for Turner—these guys are so opposite.
Nova: That’s probably why it works.
Me: How the hell did Luca live with that dude? Yes, he’s chill, but he’s also a mega douche. Thanks for WARNING ME.
I glance around my own room. Three unopened boxes. One half-assembled lamp. One random strand of twinkle lights I found in the bottom of a tote bag.
Nova: It’s not my fault. He was never anything but nice to me. Granted, he was never around. So that’s a silver lining, I suppose.
Me: Fair enough…
Me: Have I mentioned that this house smells like Axe body spray and nacho cheese?
Nova: OMG stop it. IT DOES NOT. lol. So you’re NOT going out with him tonight? You might have fun. He’s a good time.
