Am I pissed at not being the best person in the room at something? Obviously. I don’t do second best very well. But when the person coming in first is as hot as Bea, it’s a little easier to accept. Well, that and the fact that she’s about a million times better than me. Once this is over, and Monroe has left, I want to know where she learned to play like this. She’s better than all of us.
“Killer’s got a point; something is going on,” Hansdy agrees.
“Maybe I’ve been practicing.”
“Nah, you’ve been far too busy for that,” Linc says confidently.
“Oh yeah? Been on any more dates recently?”
Monroe shoots me a look from the other couch. He looks so much better now he’s got a distraction. Some of his worries have vanished—for now, at least.
“A gentleman never tells,” I deadpan.
“Fuck off. When have you ever been a gentleman?” Handsy teases.
“Since your girl started teaching me,” I shoot back, earning myself a deep growl.
“Keep your filthy hands off my girl, Donnelly,” he warns, despite the fact he knows it’s not necessary. I would never, ever do anything to piss our goalie off that badly.
“He’s too busy getting his own girl hot and bothered with those filthy hands,” Killer mocks.
I keep my eyes on my lap for a few seconds, but eventually, temptation becomes too much, and I glance at Bea.
She might be fully focused on the screen as she bosses this map, but her glowing cheeks confirm what I already know. She’s listening.
Sensing my attention, she glances over, and her breath catches at whatever she sees.
‘You’re killing it,’ I mouth.
A smile twitches at her lips before she turns back to the screen.
As discreetly as I can, I tug at my sweats so it’s not obvious just how hot watching her take down the enemy gets me.
Is it wrong that I want to watch her play against my teammates just so I can watch her win?
“What the fuck? When the hell did you learn that trick, Donnelly?” Handsy demands, and this time, Bea can’t contain her laughter.
Silence falls before Killer asks, “What was that?”
“What was what?” I ask innocently.
“That laugh. It sounded too girly even for you.”
“It was Monroe,” I deadpan.
“He might be a baby, but his voice has dropped already,” Killer confirms, much to Monroe’s irritation.
“That was a girl,” Handsy states. “Donnelly, is your girlfriend playing for you?”
“The fuck?” I bark. “A girl couldn’t play like this. Ow, what the fuck?” I cry when the pillow Bea was resting against hits the side of my head.
“Hey, Bea, how’s it going? You know, you could really teach that boyfriend of yours a thing or two,” Linc says.
Monroe laughs, and I groan.
“The game’s up, man. Time to introduce the new boss of CoD, because everyone knows it’s not you,” Monroe says.
Bea reaches for her headset and turns the mic on.
