Home > Rixon Raiders : The Collection(35)

Rixon Raiders : The Collection(35)
Author: L. A. Cotton

Stepped up? Is that what we were calling it?

“And I’m what?” I whisper-hissed, aware of all the prying eyes and ears within our immediate vicinity. “Just supposed to forgive the last six years and become Team Jason?”

Like that was ever going to happen. I loaded my tray with some lunch items and followed Flick to the service counter.

“I guess it does sound kind of lame when you put it that way.”

“You think?” I shot back unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

“And how are my two favorite ladies?” Asher Bennet appeared out of nowhere and slung his arms around us, guiding us to our usual table. I ducked out of his embrace leaving him and Flick to walk together, shooting her a hard look in the process. She shrugged like it was no big deal.

Traitor.

“So.” He sat down next to Flick as if he joined us for lunch every day. “I was wondering—”

“Steady there, you might get a headache.” I smirked, stabbing a piece of pasta with my fork totally not pretending it was Asher’s face.

“Ouch. So prickly, Raine. So prickly. Anyway, as I was saying.” He gave my best friend his attention and she lapped it up, hanging on his every word. My stomach sank. “How would you girls like to come to a party tomorrow night?”

“No,” I said at the same time as Flick said, “Yes.”

Laughter rumbled in Asher’s chest. “I can see we’re going to have to keep an eye on this one,” he said the words to Flick but directed them at me.

“You can go now,” I huffed. It was bad enough he was sitting at our table. But flirting with Flick? That was enough to make me puke and I hadn’t even taken a single bite of my lunch yet.

“You should come. There’s no hidden agenda, I swear,” were his parting words as he stood up, his eyes lingering a little too long on my friend. When he retreated back to his table, Flick squealed with delight. “A party,” she shrieked, lowering her voice when I gave her an irritated glare. “A party at Asher Bennet’s house. I can’t believe this.”

“You don’t actually want to go?”

“Hails, come on.” She groaned, rolling her eyes theatrically. “This has never happened to us before. And it’s on my list.”

“I think your list is fast becoming a way to talk me into selling my soul to the dark side.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s just a party. And who knows, maybe you’ll actually have some fun.” She leaned in closer. “Besides, Cameron will be there.” Her eyes danced with insinuation.

“Don’t even…” I warned. I didn’t want to think about Cameron, not here, not now.

Not ever.

But my eyes had a mind of their own, skimming over to where he and the rest of the team sat. His head lifted, his gray-blue eyes fixing right on me, but I darted away quickly, feeling my cheeks heat.

Oblivious, Flick said, “What?” She gave me innocent puppy dog eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Inclining her head, she studied me. “It’s okay to like him, you know?”

“I don’t…” I inhaled sharply. I didn’t like him. I didn’t. “Whatever. Can we talk about something else?”

A slow smile tugged at her mouth. “Does that mean you’ll come?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” her smile turned into a full grin. “No, you don’t.”

 

 

I was either a total doormat or the best friend a girl could have. The jury was still out on which as I downed the remainder of my drink, crushing the cup and throwing it in one of the trash cans Asher had strategically placed around his yard, which was as big, if not bigger, than everyone said it was. The place was freaking huge.

“I think I’m drunk,” I declared.

“Shall we get another?” Flick didn’t sound too sober herself as we meandered through the crowds of people all gathered to celebrate the team’s win against the Levinson Lion’s last night. According to everyone who was anyone it had been an easy game for the Raiders, taking them one step closer to the play-offs.

I hadn’t even put up a fight when Flick turned up on my doorstep earlier with a bag full of clothes and a smile not even the most stone-hearted of people could have refused. But so far, it wasn’t turning out to be all that bad. We’d managed to avoid my step-brother and his friends, or maybe they were avoiding us. Either way, we drank and danced and even joined in a game of beer pong or two.

It was strange at first, having people cheer my name.

My name.

Hailee. Hailee. Hailee.

But I couldn’t deny, even in my slightly intoxicated state, it was thrilling. I was thrilled by people shouting my name. Oh God, I was turning into Jason. The idea made me shudder.

“What did you say?” Flick’s head whipped around to mine.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, you did. You said, you’re turning into Jason.”

“Did not.” I poked my tongue at her, and she frowned.

“I need to pee. Crap, I need to pee so bad.” Flick shoved me into a lawn chair, dancing on the spot like she had ants in her pants. “Stay right here, okay? I’ll be back.”

I waved her off as the world spun. Hoisting my legs over the arm of the chair, I dangled my head off the other one until I could see nothing but twinkling stars against a vast inky backdrop. It was so peaceful and calm, worlds away from the party I could vaguely hear going on around me.

“Comfortable?” a voice said from the shadows, and a face so breathtaking I sucked in a harsh breath, filled my vision. All intense eyes, straight-nose, and strong-jawed; even upside-down Cameron was beautiful.

I smiled up at him, giving a little sigh that pre-empted a hiccup. “Oops.” I clapped a hand over my mouth smothering my dreamy smile. He chuckled, dropping into another chair close by. “I wondered where you’d disappeared to.”

“You did?” I twisted my body to see him better but didn’t sit up. I liked the feeling of being upside down. Weightless.

“Yeah, I was hoping I might get a dance with you.”

“A dance, yeah, right.”

He didn’t laugh. Why isn’t he laughing?

“You’re not serious?” I almost choked on the words.

His shoulders lifted. “Sure I am.” He sounded nonchalant. “I like dancing.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not as drunk as you.”

I poked my tongue out at him and his eyes flashed like lightning in a storm. “So, it’s Homecoming soon.”

Homecoming.

Just the very word made me nauseous.

“I’d rather stick hot pokers in my eyes.”

“So, you’re not going?” he asked.

“No, I’m not going to Homecoming.” Was I?

“Sure, you are, Sunshine. It’s a senior rite of passage, you’ve got to be there.”

“Flick wants to go.” I folded my hands together, dropping them in my lap.

“Flick talks a lot of sense.”

Peeking over at him, I asked, “Are you going to Homecoming?”

His expression darkened. “Kind of comes with the territory.”

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