BOUND 2 (GxG)

Karter Is So Petty

"Where is everyone?" I asked, walking over to Karter who sat on the wooden bench of the empty locker room, drinking water from the reusable Gatorade bottle.

Karter swallowed her water, "In the indoor gym, strategizing for the second half," she said, smirking as she eyed my face, "Nice face paint." 

I rolled my eyes, standing in front of her, "Shut up," I said, which earned an amused chuckle from her, "And you know you guys are going to win regardless right?"

Karter shrugged, "What can I say? When we win, we like to win big," she said, and I hummed, nodding my head, forcing Karter to inevitably say, "So are you going to tell me what happened?"

I pursed my lips, "What do you think happened? Violet was being her normal bitchy self," I said, leaving the incident of me almost tackling Violet to the ground for even mentioning Karter fucking her. 

Karter hummed, lazily pushing away the stray hairs that were dampened with sweat from her face, "What did she say this time?" she said.

I shrugged, "Just basically coming for me about not wearing your jersey on jersey night," I said, keeping my tone neutral since it wasn't a big deal.

But apparently, it was to Karter, given that her dark hazel eyes suddenly widened in realization, "Oh fuck, I forgot it was jersey night," she breathed out.

I shook my head, "It's fine—"

"No, it's not, I left you completely unprepared. Why didn't you say something?" she said, cutting me off as she stood from the bench and walked toward the navy lockers.

I followed behind her with furrowed brows, "Because it's not a big deal—" I paused when she began unlocking her locker, "—what are you doing? Don't tell me you're about to..." but I quickly trailed off when she opened the locker and pulled out what I'm assuming was a spare jersey.

She turned around, handing me the navy jersey labeled with the number five and the last name Greyson on the back in a soft orange, "Here, it's clean—you can wear it for the remainder of the game and at the party tonight."

I shook my head, pushing her hand that was holding the jersey away, "No because now it will seem like I asked you for it."

Karter extended her hand back out, "Well, you didn't. See—" she shook the jersey in her hand, "—I gave it to you."

I shook my head, taking a step back from her, "But it will still seem that way."

Karter let out a long sigh, grabbing both my hands, and placing the soft jersey in them. "You're wearing the jersey and that's final," she said, her dark eyes holding mine with nothing but seriousness. "If anyone says anything then I'll be the one handling it. Got it?"

I let out an irritated sigh, hating how demanding she always had to be, "Why does it always have to be your way or the fucking highway?"

Karter laughed, "Because I always get my way, babe," she said, clear amusement laced in her tone, "But this isn't just about it being my way—we're together, and you have to wear my jersey on jersey night."

I crossed my arms over my chest, "I don't have to do anything—"

"Sloan just put on the fucking jersey," she said, cutting me off which earned an irritated huff from me.

"Fine. You want me to wear the jersey?" I said, harshly tugging my own jersey over my head, leaving me in only my black laced bra—which immediately made Karter's hazel eyes widen as they darted down slightly—not even a second later, she spun around, facing away from me as I shrugged her own jersey on.