Page 27 of Playing with the Heartbreaker

“Hi.”

Is it just me, or does he also look nervous?

“Ready for lesson one?” His signature smirk appears, and suddenly I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

Okay so maybe Charlotte was right and he just had a weird night at the bonfire, and it had nothing to do with me or any rumors he might have heard about us.

I paste on my most determined expression. “Do your worst, Simpson.”

He laughs and waves for me to follow him into the empty athletics classroom where we usually watch game footage. It smells like the lemon disinfecting wipes the coaches make us use to clean the weight room equipment.

“Oh no. You didn’t get the recording of me missing that penalty, did you?” A hot stone simmers in my stomach. The only thing more embarrassing than having him see that firsthand would be watching it again right next to him.

“Nope.” Rhoads sets his stuff down against the wall and pushes the desks out of the way so there’s an open area. He makes eye contact with me and wiggles his eyebrows. “Worse.”

I rack my brain for what could possibly be worse. A highlight reel of every mistake I’ve ever made on the field? Baby pictures of me in the bathtub? “Okay, I’ll bite. What are we doing?”

Rhoads remove his headphones. “Are you always this impatient?”

“Yes.”

He laughs and shakes his head, then pulls a small video game system out of his backpack. He presses some buttons on the remote and the wall-mounted TV lights up.

“But seriously. What are we doing?”

“Learning how to play.”

“Play?”

“Yeah. A game. Ever heard of it?”

I jut out my chin. “Of course.”

He places a controller in my palm, his other hand grasping mine from underneath. My skin tingles at his touch. Stupid skin. Stop that. “Okay, I’m super confused. Please, tell me how this is supposed to help me score goals?” I fold my arms. My hand grows cold as our connection breaks.

“You’re an amazing soccer player, Baker. You’re technical, you’re focused. But you think too much. I can see you analyzing the play from my seat in the bleachers. And, if I can see it, so can your opponents.”

“So, I have to play video games?” I’m still not getting it.

“You need to learn to relax. Let go a little. Have some fun.”

Funny. Charlotte basically said the same thing to me. Just have fun for once. Go to a party, hold hands, kiss. Not everything has to be serious.

I scoff, but I don’t necessarily disagree with him. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud. “You think I’m too much in my head.”

“Yes. So, today, we get you out of your head and into your body. I mean, a part you don’t usually use.”

My face flames as I try to ignore the way his mouth moves over the curves of the word “body” and try to block out the jokes I know Anita and Charlotte would be making if they’d just heard him. It’s a really good thing he turned to fiddle with the TV and can’t see me, because I’m positive my face looks like a ripe tomato.

“Your hands, I mean.” He turns back around and holds his controller aloft.

Right. Of course. I clear my throat. “So, what are we playing?”

“Mario Kart. Ever played?” He sits down in one of the two chairs he’s pulled into the center of the room and gestures for me to take the place beside him.

“Once, like a million years ago.” Kyle had gotten the game for Christmas and Anita, Charlotte, and I had taken turns racing him. “I was terrible.”

Rhoads beams. “Fantastic.”