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Wow.
He’s built like a Greek god.
Really, Zara? A Greek god?
But he is. He could be Ares or Apollo or at least some demigod. He’d fit in just as well up there on Mount Olympus as he does down here with us mortals.
All wide shoulders and swagger, he’s just ideally, beautifully buff. This is the body of a natural athlete who’s honed every muscle into its optimum for peak performance.
God, would you listen to yourself? You sound like a football coach’s daughter.
But it’s true. He’s about as perfect as anyone could be.
His eyes, as he gets closer, are watching me with a crazy, magnetic depth and I can’t tear my gaze away from them. They’re blue. Not just blue. They look like starbursts, with different shades of lighter blue glinting through the sapphire, like his superpowers are visible. They’re framed by dark lashes that are unfair on a man.
They’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Which is a very weird thing for a football player to have.
His face is rugged and gorgeous, his expression almost stern.
Wow.
“Hey, Zara,” Gabe says, breaking my trance.
He’s a football player, I remind myself. Rule Number One: No Football Players. A piece of me feels a little bit heartbroken but I’m not sure why.
Because he’s freaking beautiful, that’s why.
“Hi, Gabe.”
“Zara, this is Elias. Elias, Zara.”
Wait, this is Elias O’Shea?
No wonder his reputation is practically mythical.
When you live in a football-obsessed world, quarterbacks tend to do that: they exist in a zone of their own. In some ways, they are gods. They control the success or failure of thousands of people’s hopes, dreams and in some cases, entire identities.
I happen to know that, after a difficult first year, Elias O’Shea has been on an unbelievable winning streak that’s made him a national superstar. I’ve picked up bits and pieces about his rise to stardom from overhearing my dad’s phone conversations and from the constant stream of assistants who use our house as one of their headquarters. I wasn’t always paying attention, but somehow a lot of it stuck. And now, the best football player my dad has ever coached is gazing down at me like I just flew in on my unicorn.
“Hi, Elias,” I manage to say, and my voice sounds breathless. Which is understandable. He really is gorgeous. And even though I’ll never consider going there—and I don’t know where I’d go even if I wanted to—it’s impossible not to appreciate the outstanding specimen of athletic masculinity that’s standing right in front of me.
“Zara.” His voice is deep and low. There’s a question in it. He’s heard my name before but he can’t remember where. He continues to watch me, his eyes taking in every detail of me until a blush warms my cheeks.
Gabriel nudges Elias with his elbow, a mixture of amusement and something else in his expression, as though there’s something about the way Elias is acting that’s out of character. “What he means to say, Zara, is that it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I smile at him. “Nice to meet you too, Elias.”
Two other football players walk past us and I glance over to where my dad is standing. He’s still in his gruff coach mode but I can tell by his eyes he’s happy to see me—even if that emotion is co-existing with his rising temper over the fact that I’m currently in the same stadium as several of his players.
My dad walks over and Gabe and Elias seem to take this as their cue. I stand on my toes to kiss my dad’s cheek. “Hi, Dad.”
Glaring at Elias and Gabe for a short moment, dismissing them, my dad drapes his arm gently around my shoulders, as though to shield me. “Hi, honey. Come to my office. I brought your letter. How was your first day?”
“It was fantastic,” I say honestly. It was fantastic. I glance back once to see Elias still standing there, still watching me with those dark eyes. I can’t quite decipher the intensity of his gaze. And I’m not about to analyze it.
Maybe he’s just one of those strong, silent types.
Either way, I’m hardly going to complicate things by fixating on Hawthorne U’s star quarterback, along with every other girl on this campus and hundreds more across the country. Especially when doing that would get me into deep trouble and quite possibly jeopardize his entire career.
