Page 187 of Ruthless Court
“These seats aren’t general admission.”
“I’m aware.”
She studies me again.
“Whose guest are you?”
The question sounds less like curiosity and more like security screening.
I drop into my seat and place the Twizzlers in my lap.
“A player’s.”
“Which one?”
I push my glasses higher.
“Is there an audition before I’m allowed to sit down?”
Her friend snorts.
The blonde’s smile tightens.
“I was just asking.”
“And I was just sitting.”
She turns away.
Conversation resumes around me in low, deliberate voices.
Someone’s boyfriend forgot to arrange a car.
Another player’s ex posted something suggestive.
A girl near the aisle is furious because her seat is three rows behind the one she had last game.
I stare at the court.
This is why I transferred dorms.
There are thousands of people in the arena, yet this section has somehow reduced the entire evening to who belongs beside which athlete.
The lights sweep across the court.
Kane stands near center with his teammates.
Even from here, I can see the grin on his face.
He found me.
I shouldn’t have winked.
It felt funny from twenty feet away.
Now he’s wearing that look like I handed him a private promise.
The woman beside me follows his gaze.
