Page 80 of Playing to Win
I keep walking, my stride slow as I smile and nod at people I pass by. A group of women stop me, all of them surrounding me with flirtatious smiles and exaggerated giggles, some of them bold enough to touch me.
“You look so good out on the field, Ace!” one of them squeals, her hand landing on my forearm and giving it a squeeze.
“Hey thanks.” I smile at her and take a sip from my beer.
She flutters her lashes at me. They’re long and thick and definitely fake, and I wonder how she can keep her eyelids open. “I’m coming to this Saturday’s game too.”
“Can’t wait to see you there.” I lift my beer toward her, hating that I just said that. I don’t mean a word of it and I probably got her hopes up.
Her eyes flash. They’re dark brown and currently gobbling me up. “I’ll make a sign for you.”
“Okay.” I don’t know how to respond to that.
She scoots closer, the overwhelming scent of her perfume washing over me, making me want to sneeze. “I think you’re the hottest guy out on that field.”
My chuckle is nervous, when normally this sort of thing doesn’t bother me. “Oh yeah?”
“Definitely.” She nods, her hand back on my arm. “Want to go somewhere more private?”
“Right now?”
Her smile is knowing. “Yes, of course, right now.”
“Let’s ease up a little bit there, sweetheart. Get to know each other better first.”
The disappointment on her face is obvious. “Are you turning me down?”
“Are you trying to hit on me?” I take another sip of my beer. “Let me at least finish my drink.”
Her smile is back, bigger this time. “And then you’ll leave with me?”
I don’t plan on going anywhere with this chick. I need to be honest with her.
“You know what?” When she nods eagerly, I continue, “Probably not.”
Her face falls. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” I take another swig. A bigger one this time. “Oh.”
She screws her face up, her lips puckered into an unattractive pout. “You’re kind of a dick.”
“And you’re kind of pushy.” I tip my bottle toward her. “Better luck next time.”
“Men,” she practically huffs out before she turns on her heel and stalks away.
I watch her leave, faintly amused, contemplating if I should drain my beer and grab another one when I catch a familiar scent. Hear a familiar voice.
“Pissed off another one, huh, Townsend?”
The relief at hearing Ruby’s teasing makes my knees fucking wobble, which never happens. I glance to my right to find her standing there, looking hot as fuck because it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing or how much makeup she has on her face or whether her hair is curled or not.
In my eyes, Ruby is hot as fuck no matter what.
“She was—a lot,” I tell Ruby, staring into her green eyes a little too long.
Amusement dances in her gaze. “Came on to you too strong?”
“Yeah.” I can’t stop staring at her. She’s so fucking pretty. The shirt she’s wearing is tight and cropped, showing off that toned stomach of hers, and she’s got on a pair of jeans that are kind of baggy, but I know how slender those legs are. The gentle flare of her hips. The dip of her waist. The curve of her perfect ass.
