“You got your face too.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans so I don’t reach out and wipe the paint from her face.
Irritation crawls up my spine. Why am I acting like this?
It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone, but still.
Get a fucking grip.
I’m not sixteen.
She’s attractive.
So what?
Not to mention, she’swaytoo young for me to even think about.
She isn’t that young. She turns twenty-six soon.
I growl silently at the voice in the back of my head.
There are six years between us.
That’s too young.
But is it?
Fuck, why am I arguing with myself?
“Oh.” Sunny rubs the back of her hand over her face, making the paint smear worse.
I snort, and she shoots me a close-lipped smile, breaking the weird tension that I’m pretty sure I only felt.
“Thanks for catching me,” she says, looking embarrassed. “I guess you are quick.”
I shrug it off. “I’m just good with my hands.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
First, I mention how I have a ladder she can climb anytime, and now I’m telling her I'm good with my hands? To save myself from the absolute shitshow I’m currently the star of, I turn toward Ellie.
“Wow, look at you.” I scan her from head to toe. I almostlaugh but quickly register the T-shirt that’s hanging down to her knees. “Where the hell did you get that shirt?”
“Daddy.” Ellie’s small fists go to her hips. “You said hell.”
I hear Sunny’s hushed laughter from behind, but I’ve since banned myself from looking at her.
“So did you,” I argue.
She flattens her lips.
“Now tell me where you got that shirt.” I assume it is one of my teammates. They are always telling Ellie to do things that they know will irritate me. Harmless things, butstill.
The hawk logo is supposed to be on her chest, but the shirt is so big on her it falls to her stomach.
Washington Hawks.Which of the guys played for them? They’re in a different division than the Blue Devils, and the last time I played against them, I was a rookie.
“Oh.” Sunny steps forward. “That’s mine.”
She’s a Hawks fan?