"Fuck off," I mutter, shaking my head as we stride toward the locker room, side by side. By some miracle, I managed to get it together enough to rejoin the last half of practice. Coach rode my ass the whole time, but I survived.
Killian laughs beside me. "Seriously, man. You good?" He peeks over at me. "You're never off your game like that."
"I'm fine," I growl.
"You worried about those photos? You know they'll be on to something else soon."
"It's not the photos worrying me." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Serena is going to kill me."
"Serena. That's the chick?"
I shoot him a death glare.
"It's just a question, motherfucker."
"She's not just a chick."
"Ah." He grins. "I see."
Fuck my life.
"Killian, shut the fuck up."
"Didn't even say anything." His quiet laugh says plenty, though. He thinks I've lost my damn mind. Hell, maybe I have. Who the fuck knows?
"I have no idea where she is. It's driving me crazy," I admit.
"Uh…"
"What?"
Killian points down the hall.
I follow his finger with my gaze, my heart slamming against my ribcage when I realize what he's pointing at. No, not what.Who.
Serena is standing against the wall on the far end of the hall near the doors to the parking lot, her arms crossed over her tits. Fuming.
Fuck me.
"Is that her?" Killian asks.
"Yeah, that's her." I laugh at how goddamn mad she looks. Christ. She's even more beautiful than I remember, with her dark hair up in a messy bun, her face clean of makeup, and her curvy frame swallowed by a WashingtonCarvers' jersey.
"Good luck," Killian mutters, chuckling when he clocks the murderous look on her face. "I'm not going anywhere near that."
"Good call."
He gives me a fist bump, then turns in the opposite direction, not wasting any time hurrying several yards away. The fucker doesn't vanish, though. Hell no. He's too nosy for that. Instead, he lingers just far enough away not to be in the danger zone.
I stride toward Serena, my heart in my throat, and my dick throbbing. Fuck me. She's actually here. I was certain I was going to have to use my resources to scour the metro area for her.
"I guess the saying is true," I say, grinning as I draw to a stop in front of her.
"What saying?"
"If you think of the devil often enough, she shows up."
Her scowl is almost as beautiful as her eyes. "If anyone is the devil here, it's you, Austin Hawkes." She jabs me in the chest with one pointy nail. "You're such an asshole!"
