Page 11 of Forbid It

Florent sends me a small smile as he shakes my hand, but he quickly turns his attention back to the field and the thirty or so men out there. They’re moving quickly, neat lines of a dozen players hopping over ladders laid out on the grass and dribbling black and white balls through a series of cones.

A young guy runs up next to me and offers me a bottle of water. I thank him with a smile and politely avoid the way his face turns bright red under my gaze.

“Cassie, I want you to meet someone,” my dad says, turning towards the field. “King!” he yells, gesturing with his hand.

I’m sipping my water as the player comes into view. Strong thighs hide behind delightfully short shorts and a practice shirt clings to strong abs. It’s only when I reach his face that I choke on my drink.

It’s him.

My eyes widen as I cough, turning away from the crowd of confused men. What the fuck. King is Robbie? My Robbie?

I take a calming breath as I turn back. “Excuse me.”

Robbie–King–shoots me a serious look as he offers his hand to me. “Robbie King,” he says as if the last time I saw him the hand he’s currently offering wasn’t knuckle-deep inside me.

I flick my hair off my shoulder and meet his eyes. Thank god I’m wearing sunglasses so he can’t see the way my eyes are drinking in his face. It was dark when we met, so I couldn’t fully appreciate the warm brown of his eyes, which instantly harden as he assesses me now.

“Cassandra Hamilton,” I say, taking his hand. I ignore the way sparks shoot along my skin and quickly release him.

“You’ll be seeing each other around quite a bit,” Dad says, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Robbie finally pulls his attention off me, turning to my dad questioningly.

Dad basically rubs his hands together. “This season, we’re looking for that star power. With you on the field, King, we’re going to get attention from all over the world. Everyone wants to see where The King is calling his new home. New league, new team, new colors. And with my Cassie in the stands every game, we’ll get so many new fans.”

I startle. This is the first I’m hearing of this. I agreed to come today to see the new stadium, but I didn’t even question why he’d want me to come. “Every game?”

He doesn’t acknowledge me, instead looking to Florent and Robbie with a grin on his face.

“Star power,” Dad repeats again. “This team is going to be untouchable.”

How many more times can I hear the words ‘star power’?

Robbie runs his hand across his jaw, glancing at Florent. The manager chews on his gum and crosses his arms across his chest. “Does the team know about this?” Robbie asks.

Florent glances at him before nodding slightly.

Robbie pokes his tongue against his cheek. “Right. I’ve got to get back to training.”

He doesn’t even look at me as he darts back to his teammates, Florent tapping his clipboard on his back as he passes.

I tug on my dad’s elbow. “Every game? Dad, that’s insane.”

Dad turns to me, his eyebrow creasing. “Cassie, please. It’s a few hours a week where you have to sit in the stands, look pretty, and pretend to be interested in the game. I’m sure you can manage it.”

I reel back. I’m sure you can manage it?

“Dad, I have a job.” I lower my voice, conscious of the other men still lingering on the sidelines. “A job I’m very good at. I can’t be expected to attend every game, and you’d know that if you’d asked me first.”

“Cassie, come on.” Dad chuckles. “You’re not on tour, you’ve got nothing but time. I’m sure you can squeeze the games in around your luncheons and beauty treatments.”

I bite my cheek, glancing at the crowd of coaches and staff who are pretending not to listen. I’ve never met the men in this stadium before, haven’t been introduced to any of them yet, but they’ve all heard my father insult my career and order me around like a child.

I’m out of words, my mouth dry. I clench the water in my hand, the crackle of the plastic assaulting my ears. “Well it’s certainly not a game now, so I’m out of here. I have a luncheon to attend.”

“Bye, sweetheart.” Dad turns back to the pitch, barely affording me a glance.

I storm back through the tunnel, heart pounding.