Page 84 of Faking the Goal

I should've known better.

Taylor's phone buzzes again.

She glances at the screen, and whatever she sees makes her jaw tighten before she turns it facedown and goes back to scrolling through the photos.

A minute later, it buzzes again.

Then again.

By the next one, she lets out an irritated breath and rubs two fingers against her forehead.

I frown. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

The answer comes too quickly.

Her phone buzzes again.

"You sure? Whoever that is seems pretty determined to get your attention."

She picks it up, checks the screen, then puts it facedown again. "It's just the same person."

"Who?"

"I don't really know."

My brows pull together. "Then block the number."

"I did." She sighs. "Several times. He keeps texting from different ones. Burner numbers, probably. So, I'm ignoring it. Eventually he'll get tired and stop."

She says it casually, but the tension around her mouth tells a different story.

For reasons I can't explain, something about that doesn't sit right with me. I open my mouth to say something—what, I'm not sure—when Liam leans against the boards and says, "Classic Taylor problem. Happens to the best of us. Well, not the best of us, exactly. More like the hottest of us."

Luke glides over beside his brother, and the two exchange matching cocky smirks, "It's a burden we bear," he says with a dramatic sigh, draping an arm over Liam's shoulders. "The unwanted attention. The random texts." He pauses to let his twin finish it.

"The constant, crushing weight," Liam says, "of being exceptionally fuckable."

They nod slowly in unison.

Taylor rolls her eyes. "You're both ridiculous."

"Accurate, though," Liam says. "Right, boys?"

A chorus of agreement rises from both Luke and Cody.

"People see you're single and they shoot their shot," Cody says. "It's the law of the jungle, T. Survival of the thirstiest."

Liam lets out a long, theatrical sigh and shakes his head as though carrying the weight of the world. "It's exhausting being this hot."

The three kings of fuckboy stupidity bump fists, entirely too pleased with themselves.

I grunt under my breath.

I don't know what's bigger—their egos or their complete inability to go five minutes without reminding everyone they think they're attractive.

"Speaking of," Luke says, leaning forward. "Maybe you should try seeing someone. Like, for real. Might scare off the randos."