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Unknown: Come on, little mouse, live a little.
Oh. My. God.
Instantly, my entire body relaxes. And while that’s a concerning reaction in and of itself, I’m choosing to focus on the positives right now.
Me: Sterling.
“You got it, baby.”
My eyes fly up, and sure enough, Sterling Abbot stands before me, looking like a god.
“You really freaked me out.” I glance down at my lap, where my hands are trembling. “I–I thought it was... not many people have this number...” I trail off, unable to bring myself to say his name.
But Sterling knows exactly whose name was poised on my tongue. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath before reaching down and hauling me up from my chair and into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Emmalyn. I wasn’t thinking.”
It feels weird, him holding me like this, out in the open for all to see. But more than that, it feels... right. Like his strong arms were meant for me.
Which is insane, because I’m still not sure he’s not playing some sick, twisted game with me.
“It’s okay,” I mumble the words against his chest, secretly loving the way the hard planes of his body feel pressed against mine.
What is wrong with me?
Eventually, Sterling pulls away from me. “Truly, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I-I overreacted.”
His gray eyes flash with some unknown, fleeting emotion. “I’ll be more careful, okay?”
I try to smile, but then, a thought pops to the forefront of my mind. “Hey, Sterling... how did you get my number?”
“A magician never reveals his tricks.” He winks.
“Sterling—” I press, but Zach walks up and interrupts.
“You gonna introduce me to your friend, Emmy?”
“Oh, um.” His request flusters me, because I know that he knows exactly whose arms I was just in. “This is... um...”
“Sterling Abbot,” he says, reaching past me to shake Zach’s hand. “And you are?” There’s an edge to Sterling’s voice I don’t fully understand. If he were anyone else, I would call it jealousy. But that’s preposterous.
“Zach Williams.” He clasps Sterling’s hand in his own, unflinchingly.
“Well, Zach Williams, tell me, how do you know my girl?”
A whole swarm of butterflies take flight within me.
No! Stop it! You aren’t his anything, much less his girl.
I open my mouth to tell him just that, but he wraps an arm around my waist and hauls me into his side.
“We’re old friends,” Zach murmurs cryptically, not giving an inch.
Sterling’s chiseled jaw clenches. “As long as you’re only friends.”
Finally, Zach cracks, and laughter pours from him. “Drop your club, caveman. I’d be more likely to go for you than Emmy. You know, if I weren’t already in a committed relationship.”
“Oh my God, Emmy!” Stella squeals as she stumbles into our little bubble of testosterone and awkwardness, effectively popping it. “You have to come play—oh, hello there.” She drags her glimmering gaze over him, eagerly noting his possessive hold on me. “You must be Sterling.”
As soon as she speaks, I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Now he knows I’ve talked about him to her. How mortifying.
“In the flesh.”
“I’m Stella, Emmy’s suitemate.” Her eyes dart down from his to where our bodies touch. “What’s up with this?” she asks, gesturing vaguely toward us.
“Just a little show of masculine prowess,” Zach replies, his voice full of humor.
“Well, whatever. I’m hungry.”
“Grill’s this way.” Zach nods his head, signaling us to follow him.
“Are you hungry?” I ask Sterling.
He drags his teeth over his lower lip as he regards me. “Sure.”
“Okay.” I chuckle nervously. “Um, I think they have burgers and stuff.”
His steel eyes flare with heat. “Not what I’m craving, but it’ll do... for now.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Emmy
During the first quarter, I try to keep my focus on the game, on Gabe and his teammates, but my mind is too busy obsessing over Sterling and his odd behavior.
All day he’s been glued to my side, attentive and caring and charming. It’s honestly freaking me out. Even my brain is starting to question if this is all a game to him. The more time we spend together, the more I find myself wanting to believe him.
Add in all of his small touches, and heated looks... yeah, I’m a mess. A confused, terrified, and mildly turned-on mess.
By the second quarter, I give up all pretenses of paying attention. Luckily, Stella and Zach are too engrossed in the game to notice.
Sterling, though—he’s so tuned in to me, my every thought and feeling, we may as well have some kind of sci-fi mind link thing going on.
“You okay?” he asks, bumping my shoulder with his.
“Fine. Just...”
“A million miles away?”
“Maybe only a thousand.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Here?” I look around the stands, which are packed to the brim with Wildcats fans decked out in gold and blue.
He does this adorable neck-bob-shoulder-shrug thing that makes him look so boyish. “Sure, why not?”
“I’m just trying to figure you out.” As soon as I say the words, I wish I would have lied. He probably thinks I’m nuts.
