Page 22 of Playing to Win
I’d really hoped for a blooper, but damn it, he’s just that good.
“What do you think?” Ace asks, his focus all on me.
I don’t stop filming. “Pretty great.”
“Don’t you know it.”
“Are you always so confident?”
“Only for the camera.”
“I bet you’d say the same thing if I wasn’t filming.”
“Probably.” He rests his hands on his hips again. One of the coaches is blowing his whistle in short, quick jabs, screaming for the defensive line to join him and I glance over my shoulder to watch as Gwen follows them. “You going to shut that off?”
I hit the button and stop filming, my fingers literally itching to watch back what I just captured, but I restrain myself. “I’ll have to come up with a dance for you and your offensive line to do for me tomorrow.”
“You’ll be back out here tomorrow?” He actually sounds excited by it.
“We’ll be out here a lot this season. We need to film a lot of content.” Gwen’s goal is to grow the account by constantly posting, which means we probably need hours of film to work with. “We want to do a variety of things.”
“Like what?” He sounds genuinely curious and I realize my mistake.
I hate that we’re making casual conversation, and how it’s so easy to talk to him. Look at him. I should still be mad at what he did. How he ditched me for another girl.
But it’s hard to hold on to resentment when he’s being so friendly and he’s so freaking attractive. Makes me forget that he did me dirty in the first place.
“Interviews. Funny bits. Bloopers.”
He frowns. “I don’t like bloopers.”
“It keeps you guys real.” I roll my eyes. I feel like I do that a lot with him. “You can’t be perfect all the time.”
“I can if I try hard enough.” He chuckles.
I make this obnoxious snorting sound that’s not attractive whatsoever, but it’s like I can’t help myself. “Seriously, Ace. Making a mistake here and there, being able to laugh at yourself, keeps you human.”
“You said my name.” He rests his hand on his chest, full of drama. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
“What do I need to forgive you for?” My tone is overly-exaggerated and I’m blinking at him like I’m some sort of dumb doll.
He drops his hand at his side. “You know what I did. At that party.”
“Oh, how you kissed some other skank at midnight? After trying to feel me up in the bathroom?” I hate that I just called that woman a skank, but I do think she finagled getting Ace alone at midnight on purpose to get back at me for turning his attention away from her.
“Yeah. That.” His expression turns serious. “I feel bad about it.”
“It was nothing.” I wave my hand dismissively.
“Just to let you know, she kissed me first. I didn’t kiss her.” He levels his gaze on me, his expression dead serious.
I stare at him, hating the fact that hearing him admit she kissed him instead of the other way around makes me feel…relieved.
It shouldn’t matter, who kissed who first. I don’t own him. I don’twanthim.
Seriously, I don’t.
“Oh.” I shrug, trying to play off what he just said.
