Page 52 of Pack End Game

To my right, Spencer leans back in his chair and studies me carefully. "Do you want to get ice cream after dinner?"

I shake my head.

He's already been kind enough to overlook the fact that pizza for dinner is definitely not within the terms of the diet he should be following during the season. The team's dietitian would probably lock me back in that storage closet in the stadium if she knew what kind of nonsense Spencer and Zak have secretly been eating since meeting me.

We should probably wait to have any more ice cream until at least after their upcoming home game.

They have one more regular practice before game day, and we have one more house tour scheduled for this week. Tomorrow is bound to be a rough day. Especially when they find out more details about the house I agreed to go see...

A house that may or may not have been the site of a notorious murder scene that has inspired at least six documentaries and counting.

Freddie finishes scarfing the last slice of the large meat lover's pizza he refused to share with anyone else. He straightens in his seat, and despite my melancholy mood, I fight the urge to laugh at the smear of pizza sauce by the corner of his mouth.

"You have a little something." I gesture to my own mouth for him.

He leans toward me and stage-whispers. "Can you kiss it off of me?"

When he bats his eyelashes dramatically at me, he's pretty hard to resist. I'm glad he's around to lighten the mood. I lean over to meet him halfway and oblige him, kissing the corner of his mouth and then swiping my tongue quickly over the stray sauce to clean him up.

His eyes flicker shut, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

We're playing with fire.

"I wish I could take you home right this second," Freddie mutters as he opens his eyes. Then his eyes widen as he realizes what he just said.

The whole reason we're out to dinner right now is that we have no real home to go back to. I refuse to spend time at their place for fear of being permanently afflicted with the house's bad energy. And there's only so much time we can all spend cooped up in my small apartment getting to know each other. We could all use a little space of our own. While I don't want to be far apart from my mates, a little absence might help the heart grow fonder.

Freddie's not exactly stellar at quiet time. We can have a lot of fun together, but he's probably never going to be my top pick for a movie buddy.

Desperate to change the subject, I look around the table and decide now is as good a time as any to practice putting my newfound football knowledge to good use. I want to make sure I'm confident with all the advanced fundamentals that Freddie taught me by the time I meet Spencer and Zak's teammates in a few days.

"I've been thinking a lot about your next football game," I muse aloud, setting myself up for the kill.

"Yeah?" Spencer seems surprised to hear that, quirking an eyebrow. "Makes sense. The game is coming up fast. Obviously, we can get you into the game if you want. As a fan this time, instead of a stand-in camera person." He laughs lightly.

"That would be great. Watching football is so fun, and the team is great this year. You guys just have to remember to watch your flanks, and I think you'll be unstoppable."

Spencer pauses mid-sip of water.

Zak studies me with a blank expression.

I forge ahead to prove the depth of my knowledge. "If your opposition senses weakness, they'll obviously try to break morale and overtake your strongest horse."

Freddie gives me two thumbs up in encouragement.

I point at Spencer. "And as captain, you need to inspire the troops. Make sure they keep their horses saddled and take turns on night watch. Never let the enemy cross into their home base."

There's a long, awful silence.

Freddie seems to be the only one smiling proudly at my display of knowledge.

Finally, Spencer sets his water glass down with exaggerated care. "Mia," he says slowly, "what exactly do you think happens during a football game?"

I falter. "There's... strategy? And you score points by overtaking enemy lines."

"That's generally true." Zak's mouth twitches with good humor. "But you know there are no horses on a football field, right?"

“Of course.” I’m not a complete idiot. “I know the horses are figurative, not literal.” Otherwise, I would have seen them on the field while I was filming.