Page 67 of Fight Or Flight

“I don’t know.”

“But she’s only in town temporarily, right?”

Ethan slid an annoyed look Adam’s way. “Right.”

“Good. Introduce me.”

Ethan wasn’t sure he wanted Adam hitting on Chelsea, at least not without warning her first, but he wasn’t about to waste precious time talking about it. Besides, something told him Chelsea would handle Adam just fine. He marched toward her with Adam by his side.

“Chelsea!” he said with a wave.

She had an ice cream cone in each hand and had just licked around it when she noticed him. She swallowed, then her face broke into a grin. “Ethan! Hey. Wow. Nice shirt. Very you,” she said, dripping sarcasm.

Adam barked a laugh and clapped Ethan on the back.

Ethan had forgotten about his horrendous baseball shirt. As captain of the team, Adam got to choose the team name, so of course, he went with the most ridiculous name he could think of and printed it on lime-green shirts. When Ethan had first seen it three years ago, he’d refused to wear it.

Eventually, his teammates forced him.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my choice.”

“The Masturbatters,” she read. “Classy.”

Ethan laughed. “I don’t know what’s worse, the name or the colour.”

“It’s a toss-up.”

Adam cleared his throat. “I think they look good.”

Chelsea’s gaze drifted away and slid over Adam. She looked at him the way most women did, with a sense of shock, followed by appreciation, then apprehension, and finally, curiosity.

Uh oh.

“This is my friend, Adam. He’s responsible for the shirts.”

Chelsea nodded. “Hey. I’d shake your hand, but . . .” She gestured with her full hands and a shrug.

“Two cones, I like your style,” he said with an easy smile. “Do you want to come sit down with me? Have a drink?”

Chelsea stared at him for a moment, then looked around. “Oh, I don’t think . . . Sorry. Not tonight.”

“Hmm . . . maybe another time. How about tomorrow?”

Chelsea shook her head. A drop of melted ice cream dripped off one cone and onto her hand, and she licked it off.

A low noise came from deep in Adam’s throat. He opened his mouth to speak just as Mrs.— Ms. P. sauntered past.

“Hey, Adam!” she said, then her smile dropped. “Fuck you.”

He turned to her with his brows raised, then snapped his head back to Chelsea. “Wow. Ms. P. has terrible timing.”

Chelsea burst into laughter, a full head-back laugh that made Ethan laugh, too.

“That depends on who you ask,” she said. “Was she an ex? It sounds like a name you’d call your teacher.”

Ethan burst into laughter so hard, a snort came out. His muscles started aching, and he had to bend in half and wrap his arms around his abs.

“She was . . . It’s complicated,” he said it in a tone that seemed annoyed, but he was wearing an enormous smile. Ethan knew he’d think the whole thing was hilarious, too, but he was too busy pursuing a pretty girl to let anything distract him.

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