Adler | The Aces of St.Sinclair BOOK 1.

Bradford | A THIRTY FIVE

Bright, cheery and friendly faces of young boys with groomed hair filled wherever my eyes could look. If they weren't in their navy blue uniforms buttoned to the collar, they were strolling with jumpers over their sweater vests and passing me greetings with contagious smiles.

It certainly wasn't a problem hanging around outside while Garren asked about for our objective's location. Even Will was a little perky when a few notably gorgeous gents said hello and he was happy to return it.

"I forgot this school's dumb policy with manners." muttered Will. "Don't they get tired of having to greet every single person all nicely? I'd go mad."

"You seem to enjoy it though." I retorted.

"I don't see you telling them to stop either." He shot back with a knowing grin. I mirrored it and we both chuckled.

The light hearted air dispersed the moment Garren reemerged. "He's at the golf course."

Will reverted back to his sour mood instantly. I'd thought of asking him the situation with this Bradford guy but I had a feeling I knew what the story would be. "Let's go then." I replied. If that was the case, I wasn't wasting a second to force him to endure any more than he'd have to.

We trekked down to the golf course and I gawked at the size. The grassy planes stretched further than I'd thought and even bordered a meadow with a lake. I knew the school had a more solidarity architectural to it but they spared no expense in crafting it to be a beautiful one.

A few men who I derived to be teachers were taking swings when we approached. Garren shook hands with a tall, muscular redheaded one, beads of sweat under his bushy brows. "You're here for Charlie? Alright, but don't think I'll be letting you go without a rematch against our champ, sonny." The man warned.

"We'll see." answered Garren.

The man peered around to the lush, green mounds and hollered to a figure gathering balls down by a sand pitch. They lifted their head and a boy wearing rimless round specs met our gazes. Garren nodded and a large smile broke out before the boy waved.

**

Charles Bradford was an average height. It was just the way in which he leant his scrawny frame on the golf club under and his tipped chin that gave an illusion he was a tower. It was rare for me to find someone who did the trick as well as Garren.

"Well," Charles began, "if it isn't the Asses of St. Sinclair— pardon, I mean Aces." He sneered. "I'd really thought I had gotten too much sun and was hallucinating. Who's the girl?"

I frowned at how his first acknowledgment was to jut the end of the club at me. I much preferred how he didn't even bat an eye when he'd hurried over from the ditch and requested for the teachers to excuse him momentarily. Now we were by a picnic table and I was feeling ready to leave as much as Will seemed, eyes on the ground.

"It's Stevie." corrected Garren. "And she's the reason we've come to this chicken coop."

Charles' grin widened but it wasn't in any way of being pleased by the remark. "Taking requests for your sexual favours now? She must be doing wonders, I'm honestly impressed."

"Get your head out of the gutters, Charlie. I only sleep with girls."

"I am a girl." I immediately piped before any misunderstandings were made.

Garren shrugged. "Until proven otherwise, anyway. We're taking our time with getting the details."

I shot him a glare and I didn't miss the glint. This was him hitting back over my comment on the steps— definitely. The childish prick draped an arm around me. "But officially, she's with us."