Grab a nice tearjerker, drool over Edward Twilight, and time will fly by. I cast him a sharp sideways look. How could he do this to me? A laugh escaped Ryan. It was typical for him to sound so chilled out. Nothing fazed him, no matter how huge the problem. That was courtesy of a girl player from the Riverfalls Rabid Wolves. Boy, that had hurt. Ryan released me, stooped down, and pulled his left sock trouble to cover his shin guard. While he retied the click the following article of his cleats, he angled his head to look up at me and squinted against the sun of this late November afternoon.
I grinned. I wiggled my fingers at this web page when they glanced my way, before I headed for the single bench in front of the bleachers on the sideline.
I did bring a book today, and it was not Twilightbut I also wanted to watch my friends trouble. The coming ten weeks were bound to be pure torture. Since last summer, soccer had become a solid part of my life. Not go here I was any good at it, but I loved the team sport.
Disassociating From Our Emotions
Speaking of physique, there was one effect better than all the rest, even if it had nothing dating do with soccer training at all. A guy was sprawled out along the seat, his head pillowed by his folded arms, gazing at the sky.
Or maybe he was asleep. Headphones were plugged trouble his ears. The sound of Volbeat drifted to me, even from five feet away.
Hmm, he had good taste in music. In clothes…not so much. Dark brown sneakers, brown shorts, and a yellow tee gave him a crazy Peanuts look. There were enough empty seats on the bleachers where he could continue his Monday afternoon nap.
I walked up to his side, slapped his knee with the back of my hand, and waited until he pulled the earphones out; well, one of them at least. She had it down to the last bat of her eyelashes. The guy angled his head toward me, took off his cap, and raked a relaxed hand through his short hair, which was the color of sunlight hitting glass. He blinked his cornflower-blue eyes a couple of times.
A slow smile crawled across his face. I dumped my backpack next to my gray vintage boots and crossed my arms over my chest. Charlie Brown finally worked up the decency to sit up. The longer I looked at his face, the more familiar it seemed.
He pulled out the second earpiece, scooted down to one end of the bench and, without words, offered trouble a spot beside him. With a snort, I accepted the offer. But sitting down on something as low as this bench caused me trouble. My knee still hurt a little when I bent it more than a full right angle. So, as usual, I kept my right leg as straight as dating and slumped in slow motion down onto my butt.
The Peanuts copy had put his cap back on and the read article of his headphones around his neck. Right now he was ogling me in a peculiar way—I could see that from the corner of my eye.
My gaze got stuck on the red shark grinning from the ten-by-ten-foot poster on the other side of the soccer field, and I nearly choked on air. Slowly, I turned to him. Your knee did. Trouble need for anyone to jump in for me. Get your sorry ass over here, now! Charlie Brown bit his bottom lip. What the hell? I was unable to play for a while, not forever. No need to run off and find the next best guy to replace me—no matter how cute that guy looked, by the way. Hunter sucked in a dating between his teeth, his expression sheepish.
He cast Ryan a look befitting a Boy Scout and a subtle nod. The next second, Ryan took off, back to the others. To my total surprise, it cut me silent. With my head slightly cocked, I gazed up those few inches he had on my five-foot-eight frame. He dating all the way to his ears.
Because of how sweet he looked when he did so, I was willing to give him ten seconds to say whatever was on his mind. I used to play soccer a few years ago. When Ryan asked me to play for a while, I said yes to do him a favor. He squatted in front of me, elbows resting on his thighs, so we were eye to eye. I drew in another deep breath and finally let my frustration sail off dating the ship of sighs.
With my index finger, I shoved my glasses farther up my nose. He headed away, but after only a few steps, trouble twisted to me again, walking backward. I sat rigid with my gaze transfixed on his back. My hands, which were usually cold as ice bags, were now sweaty. Why the heck were they sweaty? I wiped them on my white jeans and ground my molars together. Replacement player, my ass. Hunter would have to answer a few questions for me after practice. It was The Fiery Crossan Outlander novel. In the distance, I heard Hunter introduce Ethan as their temporary teammate.
Everyone who knew Hunter also knew his friends. Well, trouble from me, obviously. Most likely to continue getting on my nerves. For a moment, I considered switching the music off or at least turning the volume down, but when I reached for it, my just click for source developed a will of its own and plugged one of the headphones into my ear.
Fine, I was curious. I picked up the white iPod and skipped a few songs forward, then searched through the library. Apart from that one song, there was no more Volbeat, which was a shame, but the other music was good enough to keep listening. Some metal, some rock, and even Trouble Sheeran—that was totally my thing. Twenty pages flew by to the voices of Kings of Leon. Only once or twice did I sneak a peek at the soccer field to see how Charlie Brown was shaping up—and holy moly, he was good! He cut a fine figure when he ran, too.
Not like Kyle Foster, who thundered across the lawn like an engine on steroids, or like Alex Winter, who seemed too lazy today to even tie his shoelaces. In fact, Ethan was some serious competition for Hunter. He looked like he owned that field in a very natural, very comfortable way. Have you ever been caught gaping at someone, like really ogling in awe? You know how it makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment, right? Heat crawled all over my face, right up to my hairline, as Ethan called me out on my staring with a tight-lipped smirk.
I was listening to his music, I was ogling him, and I dating was glowing red as dating stop sign. Could it get any worse? If only time machines were real. I would go back thirty minutes exactly and never walk up to this bench. As something touched my shoulder, I jumped right out of my skin, jerking my head around and screeching. The onlyfans briana coppage, connected to the headphones in my ears, slid off the seat and landed on the ground before I could grab it.
His back was turned to me.
The Trouble with Dating
I breathed again and pulled the headphones out of my ears, dropping them in my lap together with the iPod. Still fumbling to turn off the music, I made dating wry face and got right to the point. For the length of a drawn-out breath, Lisa frowned at me. She shoved a hand through her long brown hair. Good, she had no idea.