Page 20 of Playing to Win
“I do,” I tell her, my voice low, my gaze locked on hers for a beat too long. She doesn’t look away. Doesn’t so much as flinch and I finally flip my attention back to Eric and Gwen. “I’ll help you guys out. You can count on me.”
Ruby snorts, but I ignore her.
“Be sure y’all give them good footage,” Coach Mattson says, his voice firm.
I send Ruby a look. “Trust me. I give good footage.”
“I’m sure you can,” she murmurs. “Hopefully you’re up to the challenge.”
“What challenge?” My eyebrows shoot up at her tone of voice.
“You’ll need to be the stuff of every girl’s fantasy.”
Something unfamiliar inside me rises up and I swallow hard. Maybe it was hearing Ruby’s sweet yet vaguely sarcastic voice say fantasy? The hint of doubt I heard in her words, like I can’t manage it? “I can handle that.”
“Really?”
“Definitely.” I grin. “I’m sure I’ve starred in a few of your fantasies.”
EIGHT
RUBY
“You and Acehave a past thing we need to know about?” Gwen asks me as we march over to the sidelines, our phones clutched in our hands, ready for action.
Filming action, that is. Of the team on the field. Eric has his Nikon, already taking photos. He likes to use them in his video creations he makes in iMovie. I watched the videos he posted on the team’s Instagram account last night and they were great. His editing skills are top notch, everything syncing to the music perfectly. He’s talented.
“There’s no past thing between me and Ace,” I lie, keeping my gaze aimed on the field, purposely not looking at Ace. They’re not wearing their gear today so he’s got a T-shirt and shorts on, and when my eyes mistakenly landed on him only a minute ago, I caught a glimpse of his thick thigh muscles flexing.
Ugh. I can’t think about muscular thighs and six-pack abs and rock-hard biceps. I know Ace has all of that and more, but I can’t like any of it. Because I don’t like him.
He’s an asshole. So arrogant. Like I’ve actuallyfantasizedabout him.
No way.
“He openly flirted with you,” Gwen points out.
I turn to her. “Doesn’t he flirt with everyone?”
“Not me,” she’s quick to answer.
“No one flirts with you, G.” This comes from Eric, who has his back to us but must still be listening to our conversation. “You scare the shit out of every guy on campus.”
“I do not.”
“You kind of do,” I say quietly. She turns to glare at me and I shrug. “I barely know you and you terrify me.”
She looks away, her lips forming a straight line. “You need to be careful.”
“Why?”
“The agreement you signed, there’s a ‘no dating athletes’ clause.” Gwyneth’s gaze finds mine once more. “You did read the agreement, right?”
Barely. More like I skimmed it. Nothing alarming stood out so I signed on the dotted line, so to speak. “You don’t have to worry about me dating an athlete. I’m not interested in any of them.”
“Good, because if you do, you’ll get fired,” Gwen says, her voice firm.
Oh shit. That’s serious.
