Page 105 of The Game We Played

Thwack.

The ball hits me square in the face and I go down. I blink up at the sky. What happened?

I shake my head. I need to concentrate on football. It doesn’t let me down.

“Enough,” Nolan says before offering me his hand.

Once I’m back on my feet, I’m surrounded. Nolan isn’t alone. Gage, Brock, and Corbin are here as well.

“I thought you left.” Left to go spend time with the women they’re with. Women who aren’t liars and schemers.

I thought I found the unicorn. The woman who didn’t care about my fame or fortune or family name. The woman who saw beneath the goofball, player image I use to protect my heart.

An ache blossoms in my chest and I press my hand against it.

“Do I need to call a trainer to check on you?” Gageasks.

“I’m fine.” There’s nothing any medical person can do about the pain in my chest. A pain I fear won’t go away for a long ass time. Disappointment sits heavy in my stomach.

“You are not fine,” Brock grumbles.

“You’re an idiot,” Corbin adds.

I scowl at him. “I got distracted for one second.”

“Not talking about getting hit by a ball.”

“Whatever,” I mutter since I’m not discussing my love life with him or the rest of my teammates. They don’t need to know what an idiot I was. How I trusted the wrong person. They already think I’m a goofball. I refuse to be the idiot goofball.

“I need a shower.”

I try to walk away but Gage steps in my way. “We need to talk.”

“Can it wait? I’m sweaty.”

“And stinky,” Brock mumbles, and I give him the finger.

I try walking around Gage but my teammates surround me until I’m stuck in the middle of a circle. I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”

Nolan lifts an eyebrow. “You know what.”

“I told you. I’m not discussing my relationship with Alaia with you. It was fake.”

Gage snorts. “Fake? Yeah, right.”

“It was fake.”

“It may have started out fake, but you care for her.”

“Caredfor her,” I correct.

I cared for the person I thought she was. The person who doesn’t exist. I should have known better than to get involved with a journalist. They’re all vultures. Each and every one of them. Alaia isn’t the exception.

“He’s cute.” Corbin pats my shoulder and I swat his hand away.

“Do not patronize me.”

“It’s hard not to feel superior to an idiot.”