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"What're you two doing?" I asked. It came out sharper than I'd intended. Hearing from Jessica had left me feeling pissed at the world.
Avery jumped and Eric winced. "We're reviewing plays, Chase. I thought it would be beneficial for Avery to get more familiar with your work."
"Turn it off," I snapped. "You don't need to do that."
Eric sighed. "I think it would be nice if she knew more about your record. That's all."
"You don't need to bore her to death." This girl was in my house because we'd asked her to come, but I didn't want her here. I didn't want to have to pretend, and I didn't want to deal with everyone asking me about her. I also didn't want to look at her eager, pretty face, and have to deal with whatever emotional baggage she was carrying. She was an escort. There had to be baggage.
"I'm a big fan of yours," Avery offered, her voice wobbly. She was blushing. "Eric was just explaining your record to me. I'd like to know more."
I stared at her reddening face
, unable to respond.
"D-do you want to watch it with us?" she asked. I'd never seen such a pretty girl stammer before. She was the polar opposite of Jessica. If a guy wasn't eating out of Jess's hands within two minutes, she'd promptly drive a spiked high heel into his back.
"I've seen it," I said, backing out of the room.
Eric followed me to the kitchen. "Cut. The. Shit," he said, keeping his voice down, the look on his face incredulous. "Why're you being so mean? This girl didn't just show up here to be your groupie—we hired her. She's here on assignment. And unlike you, she's trying to be professional."
"You hired her, Eric. Not me."
He raked his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated. "If you want to fire her now and ask her to leave, go ahead. But that's on you."
I sighed and gripped the edge of my island as if I was holding on for dear life.
"Do you really think this is going to work?" I asked him. "Jess already texted me. She's reacting. I don't know if this is going to be worth dealing with her shit, too."
"If Jess is off balance, that means this was the right move," Eric said. "You're the bigger story. They'll lose the advantage. And then all you have to do is play ball and lead your team."
"That's all I want," I said.
"Then get out of your own way." Eric jerked his thumb toward the living room. "She's waiting for you. I'll be in here."
I looked toward the living room. "But what do I say?" I asked.
Eric groaned. "Dude, you're hopeless. That's it. We're going out. We need help. You need help." Shaking his head, he headed back toward the living room.
"What're you doing?" I asked.
He didn't even bother to turn around. "Taking care of business, Chase. Shots. Shots make everything better. Now go put on some goddamned jeans. You look like a frat boy in those cargo shorts."
* * *
AVERY
I heard Eric and Chase arguing in the kitchen. I wanted to hide. Actually, I wanted to run away and never look back.
This was a disaster. Chase Layne hated me.
The quarterback was a tall, gorgeous, hulking wall of muscle, and he hated me.
It was clear he was out of my league, but he didn't have to be so mean about it. I sat there, picking at invisible lint on my shirt and feeling miserable, until Eric came back in.
"Hey," Eric said. He smiled at me apologetically. "Sorry. Chase is, er…acting up. He's been through a lot lately."
"S'okay." I nodded at him. The truth was, Chase had rebuffed me so hard I practically had bruises. "I'm not what he was…expecting?" I felt my face start to flush. The star quarterback probably had a type. Clearly, I was not it.
