Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“My ears start bleeding a little just thinking about it,” I joke, earning a peal of laughter from Elly.
“So bad,” she gasps once she can breathe again. “Oh my God, it’s so bad. We should pick up earplugs on the way.”
Makena sticks her nose in the air, pretending to be offended. “It is not! What I lack in musical ability, I make up for in star quality.” She loops an arm around Char’s waist. “And Charlotte has a gorgeous voice. She sounds just like Stevie Nicks. I’ll let her take point and stick to the hooting dove part. And interpretive dance. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Charlotte agrees dryly.
Before I can suggest we get moving so we can beat the rest of the crew to the sign-up sheet—I would be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to see Charlotte up on stage singing like Stevie Nicks—a squeaky voice pipes up from my right.
“Um, would it be okay if I come, too? Like, if I promise not to be awful?
I glance over to see Sierra, Torrance’s girl, one of the women who directly contributed to the Beer Tits fiasco by being a bratty pain in the ass at the first home game. I turn to Charlotte, fully prepared to let her call the shots on this one, then back her up in any way necessary. Torrance is a decent kid, but if his girlfriend is trouble, I’m fine with asking him to sit this one out and explaining why. This is a night for grown-ups who like and care about each other, not people still trapped in high-school era “mean girl” shit, looking for a reason to cause trouble.
“I’m really sorry, Charlotte,” Sierra continues, plucking nervously at the bottom of her pink crop-top sweater. “I feel terrible about that message I sent. It was just…mean. And I’m sorry.”
Charlotte detaches from Makena, crossing her arms as she faces Sierra. “Thank you, I appreciate that. But to be fair, it was also true. I really do need to watch my posture in that shirt.”
Sierra shakes her head hard enough to send her blond pigtails flying. “No way, it looked fine. Any fit can look weird if you photograph it from the wrong angle.” She darts a glance over her shoulder before continuing in a softer voice, “Luce and I aren’t friends anymore, FYI. She’s totally vicious online and off, and it just…” She shrugs, tugging at her shirt again. “It made me realize that I don’t want to surround myself with people like that. And I really don’t want to be a person like that. I’d much rather be with cool, fun people like you. If, you know… If I haven’t already messed that up.”
“Of course, you haven’t,” Charlotte says, her smile small but genuine. “We all make mistakes. I’ve certainly made my share, and it takes strength to admit you were wrong. Especially in public.”
Sierra looks up, wary, but hopeful. “Yeah?”
Char nods. “Yeah. That was some serious grown-up shit.”
Sierra exhales a surprised laugh. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. And as long as everyone else is in, I’d love for you to join us,” Charlotte says, summoning murmurs of agreement from the rest of the women. Even Makena, who appears ready to let bygones be bygones as long as Charlotte is.
And, of course, she is.
Because she’s a fucking class act.
And gorgeous and sexy and funny, and she can apparently sing like Stevie Nicks, and before the end of the night, I’m sure I’ll be even further under her spell.
And I don’t intend to fight it.
I’m not even going to try. It’s way too late for that. The last exit off Fake Relationship Highway before Falling Hard for Her Ville was miles back. All that’s left now is to figure out how to ask Charlotte to be mine for real.
But not tonight.
Tonight is for celebrating. Bea is getting stronger and happier with every passing day, the Voodoo just won a blowout game, and Parker’s buying the first round of Trash Pandas.
It’s going to be a good night. I can feel it.
Twenty minutes later, we load into vehicles in the players’ parking lot. Parker and Makena climb into Parker’s massive pickup truck, while Grammercy and Elly swing into their new minivan beside them. (But not before a decent amount of teasing for buying a minivan from both Parker and Mack.)
Torrance and Sierra slide into Sierra’s petal pink BMW, a custom paint job that sparkles under the parking lot lights, while Charlotte, Beatrice, and I start for Char’s SUV.
We’re nearly there when Bea calls out, “Are you coming, too, Archer?”
I frown. I’m about to ask who Archer is when a deep voice rumbles from behind us. “Yes.”
I blink, turning to see Blue stopped beside his ancient Prius, the one barely big enough to fit his bag and his massive body. The one that also earned him a fair amount of teasing last year, before all the guys gave up on giving Blue grief. He gives far too few shits about what other people think to make teasing him any fun.