22. MADDIE

CHAPTER 22

MADDIE

I shouldn't have worn this shirt. The only other time I did was for a night out with Rebs and the others. The dress code had been to wear something tight and sexy, which, in retrospect, was probably hazing, because I spent the whole night too worried about my boobs spilling out to have any fun. And that's exactly the concern I have right now.

What possessed me to wear it again?

The reason sits across the table. Him. And the fact that he awakened my hormones with a vengeance.

Not that Aran's looked at me very much since they arrived. Which is good, honestly. This morning was a glitch in the matrix. Something that won't happen again, and that did, in the first place, because he was teasing me. And because I wanted him to tease me.

Why isn't he doing that now?

Right. We're just hanging out with friends. This isn't a book research situation.

"—do you say?"

"Huh?" I turn to the source of the question. Archie's expression is calm, but there's laughter in his eyes, and I don't know what put it there.

"Darts," he says as explanation.

"The Strikes here say they can wipe the floor with us at darts," Jamal elaborates from across the table.

"We can and we will." Ryan pushes her sleeves up. "And it's perfect. We're four against four. Let's go."

I laugh a little. "Um, I'm not a Strike, though."

"You are now, babe. We adopted you the second we met you." My roommate puts her arm around me, and I melt.

"Aww, guys. I'm so touched."

"Welcome to the Bolts and Strikes rivalry." She laughs and shoos the guys with her hand. "Go commandeer the boards while we strategize."

Mark scrunches up his face. "Why does a darts game need strategizing? All you need to do is shoot and hit the bullseye."

"And this is why you lose games. Because you all refuse to think," Christine volleys back, sticking out her tongue.

For the first time all night, Aran's eyes meet mine across the table, only to roll as if in annoyance. But there's a tiny smile playing on his lips, and when I look at them, my skin breaks into goose bumps.

"Strikes, let's huddle," Ryan commands, and I'm thankful for the distraction.

I swivel in my high-top chair to face Amber, Christine, and the ringleader.

Amber tucks her short bob behind her ears and gives a feral grin. "What's the plan, Captain? And does it involve making grown men cry? Because I'm in the mood for that."

"Oh, yes." Ryan rubs her hands together. "Okay, Christine, you pair up with the nice side of the double-A battery."

Christine nods with the kind of seriousness I'd expect if this were a hockey game, but I ask, "The what?"

They all glance at me. Ryan's face splits into a grin. "Right, I forget you're new. Archie and Aran are the double-A battery. Rumor has it they were the last two standing during bootcamp freshman year."

"Rumor also has it that they can keep going and going at other things, if you catch my drift." Amber laughs, because the second I catch her drift, my whole body turns into a blinking red light.

"Shush, don't corrupt our sweet Maddie," Christine says, putting her hands on my ears.

"Anyway. Amber," Ryan says, pointing at the other girl. "Since you're out for blood tonight, pair up with the mean side of the double-A battery and crush him."

"Yes, ma'am!" Amber shouts and smashes a fist against her palm.

Ryan motions between us. "As for you and me, we get the MJ combo. Which one do you want?"

"Oh, they'll be easy to beat." Christine smirks. "I've seen them play darts before, and let's just say that half of the holes in the wall are theirs."

I turn to glance over my shoulder. It doesn't even shock me anymore that the only one who appears crystal clear in my vision is Aran. He's leaning against the pool table, arms crossed, listening as Jamal says something. Beyond the game area, Lori, Tiff, Rebs, plus a couple of other girls, eye him like hawks.

Well, not Lori. She's glaring at me.

Yikes.

"Um, Jamal," I say, only because it's the first name that comes to me.

"Perfect. I'll take Mark and wipe the floor with him quickly." Ryan puts her arms around me and Amber, and one by one, the rest of us do the same. "Christine, what do you think are your odds?"

"About fifty-fifty. I'm good, but Archie's also good." She clears her throat dramatically. "I may also flirt a little. See if that distracts him. Is that okay, Maddie?"

"Whoa, why are you asking me?"

She smiles with uncertainty. "Well, it's just that I saw the two of you sitting pretty close, and I thought… Ryan, maybe Maddie and I should swap."

"No, no, no." I shake my head. "Archie and I aren't like that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go at him."

Ryan gives me one of those looks where she's trying to read my mind, but finally shifts her attention away. "Amber, Aran is a wildcard. I've never seen him play darts, but expect trouble."

Amber snorts. "Sounds about right. He's trouble personified."

Don't I know it.

I sigh, and it gets the captain's attention. She turns to me. "How are your skills, Maddie?"

"Well, I'm a bit tipsy, so I could either hit the bullseye or stab someone in the eye."

"We'll gamble," Ryan says with a fierce nod, and it makes me giggle. She puts her hand in the middle, and the other girls stack theirs on top. By turns, they stare at me, and it takes me a second to catch on. I place my hand on top of Amber's, and Ryan shouts, "Who are we?"

"Thunder Strikes!" they shout in unison. I shrink a little, because the whole bar is now watching.

Nonplussed, Ryan continues, "And what do we do?"

"We strike first! We strike fast! We strike hard!"

My hand flies up with the power of theirs. I'm equal parts pumped and embarrassed when the whole bar erupts in cheering. This must not be the first time, because soon enough, the other patrons turn back to their own conversations.

"Wow, you guys are so cool," I say, mouth agape as I observe them. Ryan with her pixie haircut and leather jacket. Christine with her blond waves and a Barbie doll face that hides her aggressive nature. Amber with her glowing brown skin and a smile that could stop traffic. All elite athletes, the queens of this campus. And they're so freaking lovely too.

"Weeee," Ryan drags out the word and laces her arm in mine. " We are so cool, Maddie."

I shake my head. I know what she's trying to do, and I love her for it. But it's not like all of a sudden, I've become a varsity athlete just because I'm hanging out with them. I'm still boring little Maddie, who was stress-knitting at home when Ryan barged in, demanding I join them for a man-hangover session.

But here I am, in line for throwing darts against Jamal Amadi, a guy I'd never have seen this close if it hadn't been for how my life has so drastically changed in under two months.

"So, Maddie. You know I like you a lot, right?" Jamal grins down at me, and if it weren't because of the Latino TDH, my stomach would flutter.

"You do?" I press my lips into a small smile.

"Yes, but I just want you to know that I'm also very competitive."

This time I laugh. "I kinda figured."

"So no hard feelings when I win?" He extends his hand, and I shake it.

"Nope. No hard feelings at all," I chirp.

"Is that the best you can do, Webber?"

Ryan's taunting reaches my ears, and I lean to the side to catch the action. Poor Mark wears a grumpy expression as he allows Ryan her shot. His must be the first dart on the board, and it's almost at the edge.

"Having fun?"

Dang it, body. Stop reacting so obviously .

Aran's voice wraps around it like warm velvet. Except I'm wearing fewer layers and showing more skin than usual, and I seriously don't want this entire bar to know what he does to me. I rub the goose bumps off my arms quickly and glance up.

He's right next to me, hands in his jeans pockets. Those unreadable dark eyes of his sweep down my face, and lower still. He's not even apologetic as he checks me out down to my white Doc Martens. And hey, maybe feeling like a burrito wrap in my push-up bra, a super tight emerald top with a round, plunging neckline, and tight high-rise jeans was worth it.

Blinking slowly, he lifts his eyes up, and they linger a little on my chest. When they finally reach my face, the corner of his lips rises, and I know exactly why.

My chest, neck, and face must be as red as a ripe strawberry.

Meanwhile, Aran's amusement is obvious. And that's when I realize he did this to see if he could affect me. And like a fool, I showed him he most definitely could.

Taking a deep breath, I say, "Oh, I am. Ready to lose?"

"Hmm, careful which bear you poke, Strawberry."

"Take that, sucker!" Ryan shouts, tearing my attention away from the bear I wish I could cuddle with.

I shake my head to refocus my beer-and-hormone-addled brain. Ryan goes around high-fiving us after her victory against Mark Webber. Then it's Jamal's and my turn, but on the other board, Christine and Archie are still locked in a tie.

"Ladies first," Jamal says, which is a mistake.

"Thank you." I bat my eyelashes at him and accept the green darts from his hand, since they match my clothes.

Aran shouldn't have sobered me up with his scorching look, either. Because I stand behind the line on the floor, push my hair behind my shoulders, and shoot.

And it's a bullseye.

Silence reigns among the group.

I turn to Jamal, still smiling sweetly. "And now it's your turn."

"Dayum!"

"Girl! You weren't kidding, huh?" Amber says.

My shoulders shake with a chuckle. "No, I wasn't."

Jamal's okay. Certainly better than Mark. But I make such quick work of him that Aran and Amber step up to this board instead. On his way, Aran narrows his eyes at me, and I shrug.

"Are you a national darts champion, or something? Because that was amazing," Mark says as I join them to watch who will end up winning between Christine and Archie.

"No, I was simply a very bored kid in her room," I say without adding that I was also very lonely growing up as an outcast of society. That's why I got into reading, writing, knitting—just anything I could do to pass the time without feeling like it was all a waste.

Funny how some of those skills now got me new friends, huh?

Finally, Archie pumps a fist in the air. "Yes, baby! That's what I'm talking about!"

The Strikes groan, and the Bolts celebrate. But not for long, because Ryan steps up. "Now you're against me, Archibald."

"Bring it on, Ryan not Meg."

I snort a laugh.

A particularly strong thwack diverts my attention. It must've come from Aran, since he's at the line.

"Crap," Amber says, frowning at the board. "Looks like Maddie wasn't the only dark horse."

They only have one dart left each. Seeing as how Amber throws the green ones, I check the board to see where the red ones are and… they're so close to the bullseye there's no way Amber's revenge on men will succeed tonight.

Sure enough, Aran wins with the next throw, and the Bolts celebrate again.

"Where was all your big talk, Archie boy?" Ryan teases after the redhead Bolt throws a really bad shot.

Poor Archie's face now matches his hair color. But he doesn't let it get to him, unfortunately. After one more throw each, the clear winner is the Bolt.

As he celebrates by bumping his chest against Jamal's, Ryan heads over and puts her hands on my shoulders. "All our hopes and dreams now rest on you, Berkley."

On my right, Christine says, "You got this, Maddie."

"That's right." On my left, Amber nods. "You're amazing. Go get them, tigress."

"Gee, no pressure, huh?"

"No, there's pressure. You have to defeat the double-A battery for us." Ryan shakes me a little. "Can you do this?"

"Uh, I don't know, but I'll try?"

"With a bit more certainty next time, girl. It's called manifesting."

I burst into laughter. "Yeah, okay. I'll deplete the battery."

"That's what I'm talking about!"

"Aw, yeah!"

"Go drain them!"

They steer me toward the throw line, one of them massaging my shoulders as another gives me advice against my next opponent, who is none other than my rival dark horse.

I lick my lips. Aran's not a trash talker, but he can throw me off my game with just a glance.

And yet, I really want to win. I want to get this one not just for the Strikes, but for me. Because it's the first time I've played darts with anyone, and it's a heck of a lot more fun than playing alone in my bedroom.

Aran offers me the green darts. He must've seen me use those before. When I collect them from his open hand, my fingers brush his palm, and it twitches.

Well, maybe I affect him a bit too.

Knowing we're on even ground helps me fire a near bullseye for my first shot. The others cheer and shout as if we're in the middle of a hockey game. It's a wonder we don't get kicked out of the place.

Aran shifts a little away from me to measure his throw, giving me his profile. He's so beautiful it hurts, with his deep-set eyes, his straight nose that curves just a little at the bridge, the full, wide lips I know taste delicious, the square jaw I can now map with my hands. I wish he wouldn't wear hoodies all the time so I could get my fill of him more easily.

He throws, and tearing my eyes away from him to check the board feels like nails on a chalkboard. But his dart is a smidge farther from the center than mine.

Just one good look at him, and I'm drunk again. My feet stumble, and someone catches me. Big, warm hands grip my hips, and I don't need to wonder who it is.

Aran's breath fans against my neck, and he pushes my hair away from my ear to whisper, "I got you, little Strawberry."

He does. Like putty in his hands.

"Tripping!" Ryan screams.

Then Amber adds, "Interference! Stop trying to throw our best player off her game."

Releasing me, Aran snorts. "What, did you want me to let her crash to the floor?"

"Maddie is a grown woman who can catch herself." Christine lifts her chin. "Right?"

"Right," I say, not feeling it at all. Because I really did trip all on my own because of a pretty boy. I need to focus.

I stand behind the line and take a deep breath. This throw—no, this game—means more now. It's proof to myself that I can keep my cool around Aran. That I won't be showing the whole planet that anything he does is enough to make me swoon. Like Christine said, I'm a grown woman, and I don't need to let any man get in my way.

Thwack!

Grinning, I turn around. "Oh, you're in trouble, boy."

"Ooh!"

"Burn!"

Aran tucks his tongue against his cheek, but his eyes shine with amusement. No one would guess he's close to losing.

He steps up and doesn't think about it too hard. But his second dart is off again, almost next to his third. I throw my last one, and it's not dead center, but almost.

By this point, everyone's gathered around us. Aran's boys give him a pep talk, while Ryan heckles the crap out of him. I've gone and lost it, because I can't stop cackling like a hyena. Finally, he takes his last shot and…

"Booyah!" I throw my hands in the air.

Someone slams into me from the side, then another, until I'm in a pileup of Strikes chanting their team name. Through the commotion, I get a glimpse of Aran's grin, and I feel it like a brand. I can't get it out of my head, even after I defeat Archie to a round of applause from the whole bar.

I've never been the center of attention, but that is nothing against the high I got from being the cause of Aran's joy.