Page 99

JACK

“Looks like we’re paired up again.” Archer throws his towel on the weight bench beside the one I’m using.

“Do you believe in clothes?” I ask him. “Or maybe just a shirt.”

He lifts up his cap and replaces it backward. “Does it make you feel inadequate?” He drops his gaze to his pecs and tenses each one in turn, making them dance.

“Does that impress the ladies or something?” I say, sitting up to straddle the bench and swiping my water from the floor.

His grin is cheeky. “Speaking of, how’s your sister?”

I shake my head on a gulp. “Those kinds of questions are ill-advised when her brother is about to spot you. All it would take is a slip or loss of concentration, and fuck knows where that Olympic bar could end up.”

A snicker from neither Archer nor me joins the conversation.

“Quit bothering my winger, will you?” A shirtless Sawyer rests his arm against the bench press machine. “Besides, aren’t you seeing Chelsea?”

I pop the cap on my bottle and lie down, ready for my next rep. “Who’s Chelsea?”

Archer shakes his head at our captain, and for the first time, I see an emotion other than playful. “Where did you hear that? I haven’t seen her in months.”

Sawyer shrugs and thumbs over his shoulder. “Couple of the guys said they thought they’d seen you leave with her that night in Lloyd’s.”

I’ve lifted the bar around an inch when I set it back down and sit up again. “The same night you were flirting with Darcy?”

Archer twists his lips, a doubtful expression on his face. “I wouldn’t say I was flirting with her. Just trying to make her feel welcome.”

“Uh-huh,” Sawyer adds.

Archer throws his hands out to the sides. “What? I wasn’t.” He pauses and rubs the back of his neck with a towel. “She did tell me all about Liam though.”

“Seriously?” I side-eye him, not believing a word, convinced he’s trying to goad me. Although how else would he know her boyfriend’s name? “Why would she tell you about him?”

Archer nods once. “We got talking and she opened up to me. Seriously, he’s kind of a prick.”

Sawyer bursts out a laugh. “Of course you’d think that. He was the only reason you didn’t get what you wanted that n …” He trails off and looks at me.

I glance between them both and pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes slowly to will away the thoughts. “Archer, do you want to fuck my sister?”

Silence. He should be denying it straightaway.

I open my eyes and pin our goalie with a glare. “I’m not kidding around. Do you want to fuck my sister?”

He holds his face still before he doubles over in laughter. “Oh my God! I had you. You were ready to lay me out, weren’t you?”

I’m not laughing. Not one fucking chuckle leaves my mouth. Eventually, Sawyer joins in.

My head darts to my captain. “Anyway, you can talk.” I clear my throat and go for my best Southern American accent, pulling it off to perfection. “Jack, is she okay? Maybe she didn’t get home all right. Can you check on her? No, actually, don’t check on her. That would be weird. Instead, I’ll sit here and be all broody and shit and pine over the pink-haired girl and pretend I can’t recall her name or the fact that she blew me off when I offered her a lift.”

“My name is well known around here,” Archer adds on a wheeze, holding up his hand like he needs a minute. “Jesus, when you said that to her and she said she didn’t accept lifts from strangers, I nearly collapsed with secondhand embarrassment.”

Sawyer crosses his arms over his chest and raises a single brow. His face is stoic as he continues to watch on as we laugh like a pair of hyenas.

“Jesus, if only you trained your bodies like you do your mouths, we’d be buying an extra trophy cabinet.” Jon comes to stand in front of us.

He looks as unimpressed as Sawyer, and gradually, our laughter trails off.

Jon tips his chin at me. “How many reps have you done, Morgan?”