Carson dropped me once we got into his room, and was quick to close the door so I wouldn't run out.

"Why are you so immature?" I groaned.

He shrugged, hopping onto his bed, "Why are you so stubborn?"

I stared at him menacingly, hoping he'd catch the drift that I didn't want to be here.

"Come here," he said, patting the bed. "Talk to Daddy."

Okay, so on a normal day, I'm really not that easily turned on. But after a failed sex date at Grey's, Carson really knew how to say all the wrong things.

"Absolutely not!" I said, and made my way to the door.

Carson ran in front of me and pressed himself against the door so I couldn't leave.

"I'm sorry," Carson said. "That last part was a bit much."

"This is all a bit much. Why do you want me to stay so badly?"

He shrugged, tightening his jaw, "I don't know, I guess you just looked like you could use someone to talk to, or a good meaningless fuck, whichever you prefer."

I tried not to seem too surprised by that, but I really was. I mean Carson has always been pretty forward about what he wants, but not this forward, and never with me.

I narrowed my eyes, "Why do you even care?"

"I don't."

"Then let me leave."

He sighed, but backed away from the door.

"But, just so you know, the offer still stands," he said.

"What offer?"

"A meaningless fuck. If you ever want it, you know where to find me." He said it so calmly, so casual, it aggravated me.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes.

He caught my wrist, "And, Princess? Next time try not to make it so obvious when I have an effect on you. It's hard for me to pretend I don't notice."

* * *

"Hey girl!"

"Hey, Becca!" I said, walking over to her spot on the bench. Becca was my best friend on the soccer team.

"Why an extra practice on the weekend? It's 7 AM, I'm tired!"

A week had passed since I was at Grey's. Nothing really important has happened. Just the usual lunch dates with Luna, movie nights at Dylan's, loads of soccer practices. Boring, really.

I laughed, "It wasn't my call, coach emailed me last night. To make matters worse, it's a joint practice with the boys team."

"What's that about?" Becca asked.

I shrugged, "They won their game on Wednesday so I'm not sure. But they haven't chosen a captain yet."

Becca rolled her eyes, "Seriously? It's like two weeks into the season!"

"Well, this whole not having a senior on the team is throwing them off."

Becca groaned, "We were all able to choose you to be captain."

I shrugged, "Well, girls are a more civilized species."

"Madeline!"

I turned around and saw Dylan running toward me, Carson trailing behind him. I really wasn't in the mood to talk to Carson right now, or even look at him. I was still a little put-off by his questionable actions from last week.

"Do you know why we're all having practice at the ass crack of dawn?" Dylan groaned.

I laughed, "No, I assumed you all knew. What did you guys do wrong this time?"

"Maybe the girls did something wrong this time," Carson said grumpily.

I rolled my eyes, "We're undefeated."

"Calm down, Lionel Messi. You've had two games."

"Guys, the sun hasn't even risen yet. How do you even have the energy to fight?" Dylan asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The coach finally arrived, ten minutes later. And Becca and I had assumed correctly. Coach was pissed off that the boy's team still hadn't picked a captain so now the girls had to vote for their captain next week as well.

Today, the boys team had to nominate two juniors to be captain. And of course, it just had to be Dylan and Carson.

In no world would I ever vote for Carson to be captain. But I couldn't deny that he probably deserved it. I mean he was easily the better player, even if I didn't want to admit it.

"Alright, that's all. Maddie, lead warmups!" Coach said after finishing his speech.

"Ten laps around the field!" I called out. I ignored the groans and went to the front of the pack to lead the run.

"If I wanted to run ten laps as a warm up, I would have bought a damn treadmill," Becca said, joining me in the front.

"You'll get over it."

Dylan and unfortunately Carson also joined us in the front, too. That shut up Becca's complaints. If you think I hate Carson, you've got another thing coming if you mention him to Becca. I swear, me and her are the only two normal people in the whole school.

Around halfway through, I noticed some of the girls in JV slowed down big time, and not because they weren't capable. Sometimes, you just need proper motivation.

"Dylan can you go flirt with the slackers in the back and get them to catch up?" I asked.

"On it!" He said all too quickly, immediately slowing his pace and dropping behind.

"Why did you not offer my services? I'm a much better flirt." Carson said, partially out of breath.

"Dylan can control himself, you can't," I stated.

Carson huffed, but we both knew I was right.

"Damn, it's hot," Carson said. Not a second later, he ripped off his shirt and threw it behind him. And I sincerely doubt that he didn't hear the girls behind us grabbing it from the ground and squealing with excitement. Gross.

I knew he wasn't meaning to look hot, he does this all the time during practices. Not that I've noticed or anything...

But anyways, I must have been very ill today because I could not help but stare. I mean, I didn't make it noticeable. It's just I stared at him through the corner of my eye. The beads of sweat slowly traveling down his chest, the way his torso twisted with every stride, the way his lips parted every time he exhaled.

The worst part, was the feeling I had in my stomach. The feeling telling me this was a competition, and I deserved to get revenge for last week. I don't usually listen to odd body parts for advice, but today, I decided to do just that.

"Yeah, it is really hot this morning," I said, and threw off my own shirt. Now for all of you pervs out there, I was wearing a sports bra in case that wasn't obvious.

I felt Carson's eyes snap onto me. I love winning.

As we turned onto the last lap, I turned around and ran backwards to make sure everyone was keeping up. Dylan had actually done a pretty good job of getting the girls to run faster. Of course, he had his phone out and was taking all of their numbers. I rolled my eyes and turned back around.

Becca and I slowed to a halt as we finished the last lap.

"My God, I hate running!" Becca exclaimed, resting her hands over her head.

"Right, so soccer is the perfect sport for you," I replied sarcastically.

"Anyone who likes running is a psychopath," she panted.

"I've always liked a good, sweaty workout," Carson said, stopping next to us. He winked at me and smirked as he said it. Gross.

I was so glad practice was only an hour and a half today.

"Alright, everyone pair up boy-girl!"