“We are.”
“So, why aren’t we?” I ask, injecting all the fire in my tone even as my heart pounds under his thorough perusal.
From the corners of my eyes I see Coach TJ trying to say something, probably to set me straight, but Arrow beats her when he drawls, “Because we were waiting for everyone to arrive.”
Okay, so I guess we were a little late arriving on the field.
I should probably acknowledge that. Especially after what he said the other night about being punctual.
But I don’t.
Instead, I raise my chin. “Well, we’re here now. All of us.”
He runs his eyes – I swear, they’ve become dark, darker than they were a second ago – down my body once again and I have to fist my fingers.
“So I can see,” he says finally after he’s done studying me for a second time.
And for some reason I feel like…
I feel as if he was doing all this flirting on purpose. To provoke me and make me march up to him like I did in the bar the other night.
But that’s stupid, right?
Why would he provoke me of all people?
So I try to be sensible, sort of, and ask, “Can we play now?” But for some reason, I can’t stop myself from adding, “I thought punctuality was one of the cardinal rules around here.”
And then, he does something that I swear I’ve never seen him do in the past eight years that I’ve known him. Not to the cameras, not to Sarah, not to that girl even.
He licks his lips.
It’s not even a full lick or an obvious lick or anything. It’s simply a slight peek of his tongue followed by a little swipe of his lower lip.
It makes him look so… wicked, so provocative.
So opposite of how I’ve known him that I have to actually do what he did. I have to actually lick my own lips like a moron to believe that it happened.
“Yeah, it is,” he says, nodding slowly, his arms still folded across his chest. “Although I had no idea you cared about them. The rules.”
I shift on my feet, trying not to think about his lip-licking. “I do.”
“You do, huh?”
“Very much.”
“Well then, this place is having a tremendous effect on you. Because I can’t seem to remember a time when you were so enamored by them.” He pauses and adds, somehow saying the words in italics, “The rules.”
Something about that makes me narrow my eyes at him. “That’s because you never paid me any attention before. Since you’ve always been so busy with soccer and other things.”
I don’t know why I said that. There’s no possible explanation for it, for why I’d goad him further like this.
But now I have and he takes the bait.
He takes it with his whole body in fact. He cocks his head to the side and widens his stance as the corners of his lips twitch. For some reason I think it’s from both surprise and amusement.
“I didn’t, did I?” he murmurs, shaking his head as if at himself.
“No, you didn’t.”
He hums, his eyes all sparkly and intense. “I am now though, and correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t I see you at a bar recently? As recently as last week, around midnight. Blatantly ignoring all the rules you claim to care so much about.”
Holy… What?
My eyes go so wide, so fucking wide at this, that I’m surprised they haven’t popped out of my head.
Did he really, actually say that? Loudly, no less.
Yeah, he did because there’s a sudden outbreak of gasps and murmurs around me.
That… that jerk.
I can’t believe I’m using that word in context to him, to Arrow.
But God. God.
Does he have any idea how much trouble this can get me in? This is not a joke.
It looks like he does. He does know this isn’t a joke and he has every idea about how much trouble this could get me in because the jerk is smiling.
Well, more like a lopsided, amused sort of smile that he’s kind of trying to hide by scratching the side of his mouth with his thumb. And by ducking his head in a way that his stupid, sexy jaw catches the afternoon sun.
And his slight stubble glints.
Glints.
The jerk is glinting and I’m watching him like an idiot.
Say something.
I fist my hands at my sides and clear my throat. The whole crowd quiets down to listen to what I have to say and I swear to God, if I get out of this alive, I’m going