Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(57)
“Just open the damn door, Soph. I’ll be out in a minute!” I shout from my bedroom, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice. It’s not like there has been someone knocking on the front door for the past five minutes or anything. Take your time, Sophie.
The knocking finally stops as I’m shrugging my jean jacket over my shoulders. My reflection in the stand-up mirror on the wall makes me cringe. I spent three hours getting ready, and this is what I managed to come up with? Black skinny jeans and a light washed jean jacket? Jean on jean?
There’s no way that Sophie will ever let me out of the house in this.
“We needed to leave five minutes ago, Sierra!” Sophie’s voice carries through the closed door, acting as a reminder that I don’t want.
I rip the jean jacket off and throw it across the room, watching it smack against my desk. Why does it even matter what I wear? It’s not like Braden will even see me in the crowd full of people shouting and cheering, pushing their way around the fighting ring like a possessed mob. Okay, that might be a bit of a stretch. Boxing has never been anything that I’ve really cared about or watched before. I have no idea what to expect once we get there. But I can’t help but want to stand out, not blend into the crowd like I’m sure that I will. Why am I trying so damn hard? Oh right, because for some ridiculous reason, I hope that he’ll see me in the crowd. I want him to see me. And I want him to like what he sees.
The almost inaudible dinging of my phone pulls my attention away from those thoughts. Picking it up from its spot on my mattress, I feel my lips lift in a small smile.
Braden: Wear something gold.
Gold? I don’t think I have anything gold. Wait, how did he know that I was struggling?
“Sophie!” I shout seconds before footsteps pound against the floor outside of my room. The door flies open and Sophie’s grin aggravates me instantly.
“I see you’ve been talking with the half-wit out there,” I growl, folding my arms.
“Heard that!” Clayton shouts from somewhere in the living room.
“Don’t care!” I shout back and look back at Sophie, sighing, “I need something gold. Help me,” I mumble the words, nearly begging and visibly embarrassed that I’m even entertaining this idea.
“Got it.” She marches towards my closet and starts tearing through the rows of clothes. Hums and haws make their way from the closet and clothes start flying around the room. The telltale signs of a migraine flash across my vision and I groan, long and heavy. Massaging my temples, I flop down on my bed.
“Please tell me that I have something,” I sigh. “I hate that I care this much about what I wear. Who am I, Sophie? You?”
She slings me a glare over her shoulder before returning to the clothes. “You like him.”
“I do,” I mumble before I chicken out. “Is that stupid?”
“Absolutely not, S. Didn’t I tell you that friends with benefits never works?”
I don’t answer. I refuse to give her the satisfaction.
“It’s okay. I know the truth. That’s enough for me,” she adds before I hear a few clangs from across the room. I keep my eyes on the ceiling. “Yes! Now we’re talking.”
Keeping my hands pressed flat on the bed, I push myself into a sitting position and watch Sophie pull a metallic gold, off the shoulder top from a hanger before tossing it to me. The tag pricks my finger before I rip it off and quickly tuck it under my pillow, feeling only slightly embarrassed that I didn’t even remember that I bought it. It’s stunning, so it was probably one of my impulse buys.
I run my fingers along the silk like texture and begin to feel nauseous, nerves burning a hole in my stomach. Most of the time, I avoid unfamiliar places and situations. Fear of the unknown is real, and it sucks. But there’s no way that I’m going to let fear ruin this for me. Not this time. I want to put myself out there and experience something new and thrilling. And I guess I have Braden to thank for that. He makes me want to slip out of my comfort zone and breathe in new experiences. It’s one of the reasons why I think I’m so addicted to being in his presence.
So I’m going to let go, at least for tonight. The world can go back to normal in the morning.
“Thanks, Soph.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just get changed so we can go,” Sophie replies and sits down beside me, eyeing me curiously.
“You’re not going to leave so I can change?”
She faces me with a pout and her eyes wide with a silent plea. “Please don’t make me go out there again without you. Clayton is driving me crazy.”
“Fine.” I nod with understanding and take the shirt to the bathroom to change.
A few minutes later, we’re all situated inside Clayton's Jeep. To say that I was surprised to find how absolutely pristine he kept the interior is an understatement. The smell of leather and cologne is thick in the air, but I can’t say that I mind it much. There’s not a single wrapper or coat of dust anywhere that I can see, and I’ve snooped through the backseat after letting Sophie take shotgun, much to her frustration and Clayton’s pleasure. I can tell that it doesn’t bother him much having my best friend sitting so close to him, unable to run and hide from his ridiculous puns and that damn attentive stare that makes a girl feel like she’s been placed under a microscope. Sophie, on the other hand, looks like she might jump out of the moving vehicle at any given moment.