Adam yanks on my sweater, laughing. “Chill, Carrie.”
Number 34 frowns at me, but I carry on waving my finger at him, until Adam forces me down into my seat.
My blood is boiling. I pull my sweater off and ball it at my feet. Glancing up, I catch Donovan’s eye as he smiles at me. Okay, so maybe that was a little over the top.Breathe, you dumb fool.
Play starts again, and number 34’s foul costs them two free throws.
When the whistle blows for halftime, the gap between the teams has widened. I watch as the players head into their locker rooms. Donovan is rolling his shoulder, prodding at the muscle. That asshat hurt him, I realize—and that makes me mad.
When the team comes back out, my gaze instantly locks on Donovan, who is jogging along the sideline, warming up and obviously trying to loosen his shoulder while the teams reset for the second half.
He glances over at us. “Having fun, Carrie?”
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Berenson got me good.”
I frown. “Someone needs to rip that guy a new asshole.”
Lewis bursts out laughing. I hadn’t even realized he was there—I was way too focused on Don.
“I need a Carrie in my life.” Lewis smiles. “Say the word, and I’m yours. My dick is way bigger than your finger, by the way.”
Donovan whacks him in the face with his towel and crosses his arms.
“Wanna tell me what happened to my jersey?”
“It’s in my bag. Perfect for muffling the yawns.”
“Oh, please.” He rolls his eyes at me. “I heard you back there. You were giving serious fangirl vibes.”
Adam nods. “I think weallheard. You nearly got yourself kicked out, Carrie!”
“I’d like to see them try,” I mutter.
I glance across the court. The Berenson guy is staring me down, so I stare back harder—but the seconds tick by, and that asshole doesn’t so much as blink. He doesn’t seem pissed at me, either.Annoying.
“Dude.” Lewis perks up. “Berenson is jerking off to your girlfriend.”
Don clicks his fingers in front of my face. “Carrie, cut it out!”
“I’m just trying to hypnotize him.”
“Stop!”
“Give me two more seconds, and I can get him strutting around like a cheerleader.”
Suddenly, Berenson mouths the words “Call me.”
What the hell? I insult the guy, and he wants my number?!
Lewis gasps. “Absolute disgrace, dude! He’s totally hitting on her!”
“He’s just trolling her,” Adam says calmly.
“Um, hello?” I throw my hands up. “Or maybe he just thinks I’m hot?”
“It’s probably both,” Adam admits.
