Page 75 of Playing to Win
My day is normal. I go to class. I eat lunch with Natalie, who digs me for details about what happened with Ace last night. I told her as little about it as I possibly could, still holding on to the moment myself, wanting to savor it. The things he said, how he looked at me, how he let me rub my pussy all over his face. Hot. All of it.
Every single moment.
Reality crashes down upon me when I walk into the social media office, remembering that one part of our conversation from last night that I purposely pushed from my memory.
How I signed the contract that states I can’t date anyone from the football team.
Figures that I’d get my dream job on campus and meet my dream guy at the same time, and he’s on the football team. Always told myself I should avoid football players and I should’ve listened to my own warning.
Even crazier? It hasn’t been that long since I’ve reconnected with him. How do I really know he’s my dream guy anyway? Because he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his big hand around my throat and come all over my chest? That’s just surface stuff.
Hot, sexual surface stuff, but there’s not much depth in my reasons for liking him.
Is there?
Oh God, I don’t even know what to think anymore.
Within minutes of my arriving at the office, we’re out on the football field, Eric filming from the sidelines, while Gwyneth and I have a quick brainstorming sesh. My gaze strays to Ace every few seconds, like I can’t help myself, my entire body going warm when our gazes meet, which is often.
Too often.
“What is going on with you two?” Gwen asks after about the twentieth time Ace and me look at each other.
“What?” I turn to her, flustered.
“You and Ace.” She shifts closer and her voice lowers. “You two aren’t…seeing each other, are you?”
If seeing each other means we got naked with each other less than twenty-four hours ago, then yes. We are definitely seeing each other. Allllll of each other.
God, his body is unreal.
“No way,” I lie, my voice scratchy. I clear my throat. Shake my head and shrug at the same time, hoping I’m playing it off. “I mean, he’s gorgeous but—”
“But you can’t see him,” she finishes for me, her expression serious. Her expression is always serious, though it’s a little extra right now. “I warned you about this.”
“Chill. I have no interest in Ace Townsend,” I say with as much sincerity as I can muster.
Since when did I become such a skilled liar?
“Good. Because it always ends up getting weird,” Gwyneth says with the authority of a woman who’s never been interested in an athlete in her life. I’ve sounded just like that over the years, firmly convinced I didn’t want another football player in my life.
Don’t I have enough? God, all of that competitive alpha male testosterone in my family tree is positively overwhelming sometimes.
“Did something happen beyond the girl you had on the team last season who would always chase after the players?” I ask, curious. I can’t imagine she’s the only reason they instilled that clause in the agreement.
“Oh yeah,” Gwyneth says, her eyes going wide. “You don’t know the story?”
Unease creeps over me. “What story?”
Gwen glances around like she’s making sure no one is paying attention to us before she leans in closer, her voice going low. “A few years ago, there was a woman on the baseball social media team—this was before TikTok and Reels really took off—anyway, she got involved with a star player. They were in this super serious relationship and she followed the team to all of their games. For her job and because he was her boyfriend, but no big deal, right? They were in love. Well, she caught him cheating on her, like literally caught him and took photos and everything.”
My stomach cramps. “Oh God.”
“Yeah, it was awful. But it’s what she did with those photos that sent the athletic department over the edge.”
“What happened?”
“She posted everything on the baseball team’s social media channels. Like, photos of him in bed with the girl. Videos. Then she posted naked selfies he sent her. His gargantuan penis was all over the baseball team’s Facebook page for almost twenty-four hours. No one had the log in but her because she changed it. It was awful.”
