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“As soon as I get back.”

“It’s a date.” And then he’s gone, disappearing almost soundlessly through the apartment door.

As if on cue, Sydney strolls out of her room with her purse in hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yup.”

“Want to grab Chinese? I could really go for chicken fried rice.”

My belly rumbles in agreement. I guess if I can’t satiate one appetite, I can at least satisfy the other. “That sounds good.”

As we leave the apartment, she throws an arm around my shoulders and tugs me close. “I guess if it doesn’t work out with Ethan, we can be single and ready to mingle together.”

I hoist my smile. “Yeah.”

Except...I’m not as single as she thinks I am.

And sooner rather than later, I need to come clean about that.

28

Demi

Annica knocks into me as I jog to the other side of the field. When I throw a glance over my shoulder, she narrows her eyes and glares. I roll mine and dismiss her like the pesky fruit fly she is. That girl needs to get over herself and move on. I refuse to engage in this petty behavior and divide our team any further than it is.

Clearly, Annica has other ideas. She’s like a rat terrier constantly nipping at my heels. If she’s not careful, she’s going to get a swift kick in the ass. When she doesn’t get the expected rise out of me, she swings away. Her cronies flank her as they head off in the opposite direction.

“Maybe you should tell Coach what’s going on,” Sydney grumbles before pursing her lips and shooting the auburn-haired girl a death glare.

“He’s aware of the situation and wants us to act like the adults we’re supposed to be and handle it on our own.”

She plants her fists on her hips. “Punch her in the face. Boom. Then it’s handled.”

A chuckle gurgles up in my throat. As much as I like the idea, that would probably make matters worse.

After another thirty minutes of scrimmaging, Coach blows his whistle. We huddle up before going over a few plays that need work, and then he releases us for the afternoon.

As Sydney and I head to the locker room, my mind is full of Annica. She won’t be happy until she rips this team apart and me with it. I need to figure out a way to stop her. I’m not sure what else to do. I’ve tried talking to her, and she refuses to listen. If anything, it’s only pissed her off more.

“Hey,” Sydney says, interrupting the whirl of my thoughts, “isn’t that Rowan hanging out by the fence?” Her voice turns speculative. “He must be sleeping with one of the dirty bitches on our team.” There’s a pause before she mutters, “Lucky girl.”

All thoughts of Annica disappear as my gaze arrows to the chain-link fence surrounding the perimeter of the field. Sure enough, there he is, leaning casually against one of the metal poles. Our gazes catch and hold. The force of his stare is almost enough to have me stumbling to a halt.

The sensations that careen around inside me are almost shocking in their intensity. It’s almost enough to knock the air from my lungs. Never could I have imagined that it would be like this between us. I spent so much time pretending I felt nothing for Rowan. Now that I’m no longer fighting myself, I’m practically drowning in emotion.

The noise of the field fades as he pushes away from the fence and walks toward me. As corny as it sounds, it’s as if there’s an invisible string pulling us toward one another. I’ve never felt this with anyone else. Until now, I didn’t believe something like this even existed. A smile curves the edges of my lips. As much as I want to play it cool, that’s no longer a possibility. The sight of him makes me feel like a goofy teenager. Like there are red and pink hearts dancing over my head. Someone needs to smack me before this can spiral any further out of control.

Sydney continues to chatter away, but I have no idea what she’s saying. Her voice is like the insistent drone of bees in my ears. Rowan is the only person I’m able to focus on.

An answering smile lifts his lips, and my heart spasms.

He looks so damn good in a maroon-colored T-shirt that hugs every delicious inch of his chest and biceps. His jeans sit low on his waist and mold to his muscular thighs. A punch of arousal hits me in the gut before settling in my core.

Why am I holding all this in and pretending we’re not together?

I’ve been so insistent that we keep this on the down-low and sneak around like we’re doing something wrong when nothing could be further from the truth. I’m not ashamed to be seen with him. Why do I care what a bunch of gossips have to say?

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