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Authors: K. A. Mitchell
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because he’s nervous,” I said, while my stomach looped itself around my pancreas.
“I don’t blame him. The crowd will go nuts if he gives up a goal now.” Makayla was pretty damned unhelpful in the calming nerves department.
I guess the injury got our team fired up. We scored right away, then the ball never left the opponents’ end of the field until there were ten minutes left and we’d scored two more goals. The crowd sucked in a breath again as they took a corner kick, but it went right to Blake who saved the shot.
Makayla elbowed me. “Bet he’s got really good hands.”
“Shut up.” The back of my neck heated again, spreading out toward my Dumbo ears.
“Big hands. Is it true what they say about big thumbs on guys?”
“Shut. Up.” I was ridiculously pleased—and guilty. Because I was starting to wonder if that happy feeling was actually about the guy or only pride at being associated with Blake and his sexy sportstar thing.
I was still thinking about it when we headed back to Fisher, fireworks going off from the top of the stadium behind us. Another boom went off and we turned to look. Blue was the featured color, no big surprise there, but I immediately thought of how the sparks were exactly the shade of one of Wyatt’s eyes.
We turned on a path for Fisher and got grabbed by two zombies who took our human cards.
“This is all your fault.” Makayla punched me as she untied her bandanna from her arm and turned it inside out to the neon green side.
My heart was still racing from being startled. “Me?”
“You. Getting all goofy over your man, not watching where we were going.”
“Why do I have to be the lookout?” I untied my own bandanna and turned to watch one more bright blue shower of sparks.
“Because you’re like ten feet taller than I am, doofus.” She put the bandanna around her head like we were supposed to wear as zombies, then yanked it off. “No way am I going to do that until I can fix my hair around it. So, are you going to take Mr. Douchecanoe back? You should at least make him sweat for an answer.” She finally paused.
“I don’t know.” My answer scared me more than the zombies had.
Chapter 9
Saturday afternoon, I was trying not to fall asleep over my freaking calculus text.
Vectors and functions were boring enough to be a lullaby for a tweaked-out insomniac, but I was also tired from the Humans vs. Zombies event this morning. The human side had won, which meant everyone who’d turned in the past twenty-four hours got “revived.” As long as Makayla didn’t get grabbed again, I wouldn’t have to hear any more crap about the bandanna fucking with her hair.
Connor’s bed hadn’t been slept in, he’d skipped the event and he still wasn’t back, but from the thumbs-up emoji he’d sent around noon, I knew he wasn’t dead. From zombies or sex. Could a zombie have sex or would parts break off?
I jerked awake and forced myself to stare at the practice problems. Maybe if I made it about predicting the velocity of jizz? If I’d jerked off twice already, and the rate decreased by a factor of—
Someone knocked. A fleshy thud, like the side of a fist, rather than knuckles. Then the soft slap of a palm and steps moving away. Even if it was some dude in a suit trying to recruit for Campus Conservatives, it had calculus beat. I scrambled up and yanked open the door. Wyatt was just about to disappear around the corner.
“Hey,” I called after him.
“Hey.” He turned. He wore a white apron over his jeans. A big stain of orange spread over his left thigh.
We stared at each other for a minute. His side bangs were over his face as usual, but now that I knew about it, I saw glimpses of his dark eye glittering behind the white-streaked black hair.
I didn’t want him to take off for wherever he’d been going so I blurted, “Just get out of work?”
Fuck. Brilliant conversation starter , Ethan. No wonder guys were desperate to get rid of me.
He shook
“I don’t blame him. The crowd will go nuts if he gives up a goal now.” Makayla was pretty damned unhelpful in the calming nerves department.
I guess the injury got our team fired up. We scored right away, then the ball never left the opponents’ end of the field until there were ten minutes left and we’d scored two more goals. The crowd sucked in a breath again as they took a corner kick, but it went right to Blake who saved the shot.
Makayla elbowed me. “Bet he’s got really good hands.”
“Shut up.” The back of my neck heated again, spreading out toward my Dumbo ears.
“Big hands. Is it true what they say about big thumbs on guys?”
“Shut. Up.” I was ridiculously pleased—and guilty. Because I was starting to wonder if that happy feeling was actually about the guy or only pride at being associated with Blake and his sexy sportstar thing.
I was still thinking about it when we headed back to Fisher, fireworks going off from the top of the stadium behind us. Another boom went off and we turned to look. Blue was the featured color, no big surprise there, but I immediately thought of how the sparks were exactly the shade of one of Wyatt’s eyes.
We turned on a path for Fisher and got grabbed by two zombies who took our human cards.
“This is all your fault.” Makayla punched me as she untied her bandanna from her arm and turned it inside out to the neon green side.
My heart was still racing from being startled. “Me?”
“You. Getting all goofy over your man, not watching where we were going.”
“Why do I have to be the lookout?” I untied my own bandanna and turned to watch one more bright blue shower of sparks.
“Because you’re like ten feet taller than I am, doofus.” She put the bandanna around her head like we were supposed to wear as zombies, then yanked it off. “No way am I going to do that until I can fix my hair around it. So, are you going to take Mr. Douchecanoe back? You should at least make him sweat for an answer.” She finally paused.
“I don’t know.” My answer scared me more than the zombies had.
Chapter 9
Saturday afternoon, I was trying not to fall asleep over my freaking calculus text.
Vectors and functions were boring enough to be a lullaby for a tweaked-out insomniac, but I was also tired from the Humans vs. Zombies event this morning. The human side had won, which meant everyone who’d turned in the past twenty-four hours got “revived.” As long as Makayla didn’t get grabbed again, I wouldn’t have to hear any more crap about the bandanna fucking with her hair.
Connor’s bed hadn’t been slept in, he’d skipped the event and he still wasn’t back, but from the thumbs-up emoji he’d sent around noon, I knew he wasn’t dead. From zombies or sex. Could a zombie have sex or would parts break off?
I jerked awake and forced myself to stare at the practice problems. Maybe if I made it about predicting the velocity of jizz? If I’d jerked off twice already, and the rate decreased by a factor of—
Someone knocked. A fleshy thud, like the side of a fist, rather than knuckles. Then the soft slap of a palm and steps moving away. Even if it was some dude in a suit trying to recruit for Campus Conservatives, it had calculus beat. I scrambled up and yanked open the door. Wyatt was just about to disappear around the corner.
“Hey,” I called after him.
“Hey.” He turned. He wore a white apron over his jeans. A big stain of orange spread over his left thigh.
We stared at each other for a minute. His side bangs were over his face as usual, but now that I knew about it, I saw glimpses of his dark eye glittering behind the white-streaked black hair.
I didn’t want him to take off for wherever he’d been going so I blurted, “Just get out of work?”
Fuck. Brilliant conversation starter , Ethan. No wonder guys were desperate to get rid of me.
He shook
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