Worth the Chase

chapter seven

CARSEN

Straightening from the pool table, I stretch my back and hand the cue off to one of the guys before excusing myself as I head to the bar. After much debate between Vice and Beta, we settled on the bar-style venue rather than the club scene.

Compared to Vice, which is the only other place we can go to in this city within walking distance, Beta is very laid back. While people mainly go to Vice to drink, dance, and make out with strangers in the dark, Beta is where you go to hang out and play pool in the back; you can sit down and dine—if you come early enough—and on certain nights, you may even catch a couple of the students trying their hand at karaoke.

I settle into the barstool as I order another beer. The sting of someone slapping my back causes me to turn my head, noticing Maverick take the spot next to me. Despite being a year younger than me, Maverick and I have been great friends and roommates since he was recruited to play for our team.

Maverick leans back against the counter, gazing around the small makeshift dance floor. The music is low enough to still have conversations but loud enough that if you wanted, you could dance to your heart's content. The lights are dimmed, and despite not dancing, a sheen layer of sweat coats my arms from the thick, damp air.

His amber-coloured eyes roam around, his elbows resting on the counter behind him. I shake my head before diverting my attention back to the drink in front of me as I take a sip.

"What about her?" He lifts his chin out of the corner of my eye. I twist in my seat to entertain the idea but know my answer before I even spot her. Over the course of the night, he's been pointing out random girls hoping that I would be interested enough to make conversation, but my answers have always been the same.

I spot the petite dark-haired girl he's referring to. She's standing with her back against the wall, talking to a couple of her friends, a glass in her hand. She bites the straw as she glances at Maverick with a sly grin before turning back to her friends. Clearly, she's more interested in him than she is in me, not that it would have deterred my answer otherwise.

I sigh, turning back to the bar. Maverick follows my lead and grasps my arm, yanking it. "Are you bloody serious, not this one either? What are you going on about?"

I shrug, not really feeling this conversation. I quickly glance at the time, realizing it's late or rather early into the next day. "I'm just not feeling it," I shake off his arm.

The bartender places another bottle of beer in front of Maverick, who's running his hands through his light golden-brown hair in frustration.

"Is this about Baby Collins?" I give him a pointed look. I can't recall how many times I've told him not to call her that. It made sense when Ethan Collins was still part of the team. But he graduated two years ago, and she definitely should not be considered 'Baby' Collins anymore.

He holds up his hands, "Sorry!" He settles back, toying with the lip of the bottle, "What is this sudden fixation with Collins? I swear you never mentioned her before?"

It's not a sudden fixation, as he so eloquently said. Our timing has just never been right. I can still remember the moment I saw her. It was a late August evening; we were running drills during one of our off-season practices. Though I didn't know it then, she came by to grab the car keys from Ethan.

She was tiny compared to the rest of us, barely reaching my shoulders, her dark hair sprawled out in long waves, and her cheeks flushed. Her sun-kissed skin glistened under the heat of the late summer evening. She was wearing shorts that revealed her surprisingly long slender legs.

The minute I saw her, she stole my breath away. Her innocent and shy glances as she watched us run through plays. I wasn't first-string at the time, so I stood back and admired her from afar. Often fumbling over the ball when I was running through drills. But when her light blue, almost glass-like eyes glanced my way, I knew I was a goner.