“I want to be with you, it is as simple, and as complicated as that.”
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Some people say love feels like poetry. I don't know about that.
To me, it feels like standing shirtless in the middle of a gym that smells like floor polish and testosterone, while the girl I'm completely and pathetically obsessed with flashes me the most embarrassing handwritten signs from the stands-and does it with a face that says she's the definition of innocence.
God help me.
Coach Gallagher's voice is slicing through the air like a guillotine, barking out instructions while all of us stand there drenched in sweat, hearts pounding from the last brutal round of drills.
I'm trying to listen. I really am. But all I could focus on...
Was her.
Up on the stands. With Isla and Freya flanking her like she was a queen and they were her ridiculous court. Her legs were tucked neatly to one side, wearing this little cardigan buttoned all the way to her throat like she was built to be protected.
She's holding up a damn sketchpad and writing something on it with the fiercest concentration. Then she looks up, right at me, her lips curling into a smile so innocent it should be criminal.
I nearly groaned.
Renna Rose Lancaster, love of my life, pain in my ass, was holding up the sketchpad with fat bubble letters written across it:
"STOP LOOKING SO HOT WHEN YOU'RE SWEATY YOU FILTHY MAN" with a doodle of my face next to it.
The guys next to me broke.
"Oi, mate-ya see that?" Finlay laughed, jabbing his elbow into my ribs.
"'Filthy man'?!" Nico wheezed. "Christ, she's pure mental!"
Logan added in with a smirk, "If a girl ever wrote that for me, I'd marry her on the fucking spot."
I tried-really tried-to keep my face straight. But I looked up and caught her gaze. Big eyes. Little smirk. Head tilted. Her hair was cascading over her shoulder like a shampoo ad, and her lips were pulled into this obnoxiously smug, girly grin.
Stop. Smiling. You're gonna get me benched, woman.
I coughed, biting the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the laugh building in my chest. Coach Gallagher whipped around.
"Something funny, Callahan?!"
I blinked, jerking my chin up to meet Coach's sharp eyes.
"No, coach."
He narrowed his eyes. "Lauder! Get your team in line or we'll be doing shuttle runs till midnight!"
