“No, no, no. Don’t get mad at me. Imagine if Elliott got hurt and you found out on accident, in front of a group of people.” I lift my brows and lean in closer, giving her a second to consider. “You’d be pissed.”
She nibbles on her lower lip, her eyes darting around. “Well, yeah, but it’s different.”
“No, it’s not. You forget that Elliott’s an adult. You don’t have to hide stuff from him like you did when he was a kid.” I turn, my knee bumping her thigh. “As a brother myself, I can guarantee that he worries about you nonstop. Whether or not there’s a legitimate reason to. Cut the kid some slack. He loves you, yeah?”
Maya’s lips twitch into a frown. “It’s really annoying when you make sense and give good advice.”
“You also think it’s annoying that I look really good all the time,” I point out with a teasing smile.
She hits me with an eye roll, but her body relaxes against mine. “Now’s when you offer to buy me a drink.”
“Shouldn’t you be buying me a drink?” I ask, leaning against the bar. “I did score the winning goal tonight.”
Her lips twitch. “Yeah, but Camerondidblock about thirteen?—”
I let out a deep grumble, and she erupts in a fit of giggles. The sound is so sweet that any annoyance at Cameron’s begrudgingly amazing saves dissipates.
Before Maya, my favorite sound was the buzzer announcing a goal. Now? It’s her carefree, unadulterated laugh.
And until Mark called to tell me about his conversation with the Devils’ assistant coach, igniting the flame of possibility, I assumed I’d take the opportunity without hesitation.
Now I have questions.
Like: Would Maya take a chance on a guy who might not stick around?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
maya
Why the hellis my sandwich ringing?
Across the spaceship, Kennedy has morphed into an aquatic creature with shimmering, scaled skin and three luminescent purple eyes. But I’m more concerned that my pastrami on rye won’t stop goingring, ring, ringthan I am about my best friend’s shapeshifting ability.
Before I can get to the bottom of it, the dream shatters like glass, and reality hits me with all the subtlety of a freight train. I groan, already plotting the slow and painful demise of the person who’s decided to interrupt my day off—especially after I stayed up way too late working on a writing assignment for class.
Your characters haven’t gotten any sleep. Write about why, and how they respond to being sleepless.
The irony of that prompt isn’t lost on me.
Rolling over, I fumble for my phone and swipe to accept with all the enthusiasm of a hungover sloth. “What?”
“Shit. Did I wake you up?”
I rub the sleep out of my eyes. “If it’s before noon, then yeah.”
The deep chuckle gives away the caller’s identity. “Sorry, bean, but I’ve got ahugefavor to ask.”
The rumbling timbre of Cole’s voice is equivalent to three cups of coffee. My body perks right up.
Running a hand through my bedhead, I lean against my pillows. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Could you watch Goose? His babysitter is sick and can’t take care of him when I’m gone, but I have to leave for the airport in a few hours. I called my backup sitter, but?—”
“Cole,” I interrupt, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s way too early for this much information. I’ll watch Goose. Not a problem.”
As far as favors go, this one’s easy. Kennedy once asked me for a favor that turned into me being forced on a double date to a Haunted House. My “date” had a prosthetic eye, which he proceeded to continuously take out for fun.
“It’s not too much of a hassle?” Cole continues. “I’ll only be gone for the night.”
