“Outside. Now.”
“Et la merde.” Ronan stumbles to his feet. “I promise I didn’t fuck her… I think?”
Xander hits the back of his nape. “You’re making it worse, arsehole.”
“Not only you made her drink, but you also took liberties in fucking touching her,” I meet their sleepy faces.
Cole raises a forefinger. He’s barely standing, and there are red nails marks all over his neck. Someone had a night.
“Correction,” he says. “We didn’t make her. She wanted to do this.”
“Is that so?” I fold my arms.
Xan swats him. “Shut it.” He laughs, meeting my gaze. “Won’t happen again, Captain. Striker’s honour.”
“I know it won’t because every time you think about pulling such a stunt, you’ll think about the early swim you’re about to take.”
“But it’s fucking freezing outside,” Ronan wines.
I raise an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
“Captain.” Xander shows me his charming smile. “You can’t sacrifice me. I’m your ace striker.”
“That would be me.” Aiden’s bored voice drifts through. He leans against the counter, sipping from a black mug.
“Traitor,” Cole mutters.
Aiden lifts a shoulder. “I warned you. This is the ‘I told you so,’ moment.”
I knew I could count on Aiden’s itch for that girl. Now, he won’t dare to cross a line with me, because he knows full well that my threats aren’t empty ones.
“Outside. Ten laps each.” I point in the direction of the pool. It’s raining. Perfect.
“I hope you gathered enough money from the bets to admit us into a fucking hospital afterwards.” Cole nudges Xander.
“All bad ideas start with X.” Ronan slaps him on the shoulder. “Connard.”
“Oh, fuck off. You two wanted to see Captain’s reaction.”
“Glad to answer your wish,” I smirk. “There will be extra practice later, too.”
A collective groan fills the space as they start stripping.
“Can we at least have breakfast first?” Xan asks with a cautious tone.
I shake my head.
He grunts. “Worth the try.”
“What’s going on?” The voice coming from the entrance stops me in my tracks.
All eyes turn towards her. She’s wearing her shorts and one of my T-shirt that I leave at Ronan’s place.
A wave of possessiveness hits me at seeing her wearing my colours and my number. From now on, I want her to wear only that.
Her hair is still damp from the shower and falls on either side of her face. The bright green of her eyes fix on each of the guys and they stop stripping.
It’s Ronan who runs toward her first with his hands on his belt. “Astrid, my drinking buddy