Page 16 of Playing to Win
I did notice there was a professional behavior clause in the contract I signed, but I must’ve skipped over the no dating athletes clause. “I know a few of those guys. And I have zero desire to flirt with them.”
“Good to know. I’m guessing the majority of them would want to get with you because of your connections,” Gwyneth mutters, jumping to her feet. She points at me, her tone fierce. “Be careful, Ruby Maguire. All those guys on the football team? They can be—a lot sometimes.”
I nod, not bothering to say another word. There is no reason for me to be intimidated by any member of the football team. I can handle them. I was always able to handle Knox’s friends. Most of the time, they paid zero attention to me anyway. I was just the annoying little sister.
But now with Knox and Blair gone, I’m the lone Maguire left. Do they even care?
I know there’s one who might, but from the vibe I got from him that night at the New Year’s party, I’m sure he’s already moved on. I don’t matter to him.
And he doesn’t matter to me either.
Considering I’m going to avoid Ace Townsend at all costs, I’m not too worried about this.
At all.
* * *
I’m just walkinginto my apartment when I get a FaceTime call from my mom’s phone number. I answer immediately, not surprised at all to see both of my parents’ faces fill the screen.
“Hey, honey.” My dad’s deep, warm voice immediately calms me and I settle onto the couch in the living room, eager to talk to both of them. “Your mom tells me you’ve found a job.”
We’ve been texting about it. I like to keep her up to date with what’s going on in my life, and I think they’ve been extra anxious about me since I’ve made the move back to Colorado.
Funny how I come back to my home state, only for my parents to move to California to be closer to my aunt Fable and uncle Drew. I get why they left—Blair was pissed and I think she might still be, even though she’s moved too—but once they became empty nesters, they wanted to do something for themselves. They’ve given us so much, it’s only fair they have a little fun now and live where they want.
Since I’ve always loved going to my aunt and uncle’s house throughout the years, I don’t mind them all living close to each other. It’s like a one-stop visit now.
“I did.” I explain to them both what I’m doing and how it’s all for the football team. I can tell this pleases my football-loving father immensely.
“That’s great,” he says once I finish describing my duties. “Sounds like you’ll enjoy it. You’re always on your phone so you’ve got the skills.”
“Ha ha, Dad,” I say, making him grin. “I think anyone my age could qualify, according to your standards.”
“True.” His expression turns serious. “I’m excited for you, honey. You seem happy there and I’m sure finding a paid internship related to your major is a relief.”
“It is,” I agree. “It’ll look good on my resume and it’ll be fun. We’re going to create videos featuring the football team. As long as they’re good-natured about it, it should be easy.”
“I’m sure they’ll love it. Most of those guys are a bunch of show-offs anyway,” Mom says, Dad sending her a wounded look.
“What, was I a show-off back in the day?”
“Definitely,” Mom says without hesitation, laughing when Dad utters a softheyin defense.
Dad can still be a show-off, but in the best way. He’s always been full of joy. The good-time Dad, the one who used to toss us high into the air, into the pool, wherever. Blair and I would scream and carry on and he’d just laugh. As we got older, he was there for us. A steady influence, someone we could count on. Mom is the nurturing one. The one we come to for hugs and comfort, our dumping ground when shit goes wrong.
“Do you know many of the guys on the team?” Dad asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“A few,” I hedge, not wanting to mention anyone in particular. “Not many though. I only met the guys from Knox’s close circle over the holidays and the majority of them are gone now. They all graduated.”
“Makes sense,” Mom murmurs, her smile gentle. “Any good-looking ones?”
“Mom.” I drag the word out, a little embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about hot football players in front of Dad. Talk about awkward.
“Just asking. Look at your sister.”
“I’m not going to be like Blair,” I say, my voice firm.
“You never know,” Mom says with hope in her voice and I try my best to ignore her.
