10. Pink

Pink

“ B abe, will you grab me a Buncha Crunch?”

We all watched as our team captain—our fearless and often fear-inducing leader—squatted down in front of Clarke and rested his hands on her thighs. It took a lot to bring a man like Soren Sinclair to his knees, and not just because he was practically an old man.

“Say please,” he said, playfully taunting her.

I flicked my eyes to Roman in the recliner next to me just as he rolled his eyes and drained the last of his margarita. I couldn’t blame him. Soren and Clarke’s love fest bordered on sickeningly sweet, enough to give some of the guys stomachaches.

Surprisingly, seeing the two of them together made me ache in an altogether different way.

I watched as she leaned forward, tracing a finger down his scruffy cheek. “Pretty please,” she crooned.

“With sugar on top?” he growled before pressing his lips to hers.

Hell, this was better than whatever movie Diaz had picked out.

“For fuck’s sake, get a room!” Roman shouted.

“Yeah! Down in front,” Bennett added, hurling a handful of popcorn at them from two rows back.

“Who decided that girlfriends were allowed at M they were my friends. We spent almost every waking moment together, on and off the field. M this was a goddamn horror movie.

“You watch Bridgerton ?” Soren asked, choking back a smile.

Clarke patted his chest. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend like you didn’t watch all of season two with me, and—”

He cut her off by covering her lips with his again.

“I don’t blame you, cap,” I told him, even if he wasn’t listening. “Kate and Anthony are bae.”

“I’m a Colin and Penelope man, myself,” Bennett said.

“I can’t believe you kept this to yourself for so long, man.”

“It’s not like it was a secret.” He waited until Roman came back into the room to claim his chair before adding, “Not like Roman taking ballroom dance classes.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Roman roared. “Is nothing sacred anymore?”