Page 16 of Beyond the Game


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“Oh, well, lucky for you, she has a best friend that can help you with that.”

“Willow!” I hiss.

“Hey, when you have a man like Cameron who wants your attention, you let him lavish you with it.”

“We agreed to be friends,” I remind both of them.

“Friends share numbers.” Cameron grins.

“And meals,” Willow adds.

“Maybe the two of you should exchange numbers.”

“You know,” Willow states, “that’s not a bad idea. Toss me your phone,” she tells Cameron.

I sit back and watch as he hands her his phone, rattles off the passcode, and then she types in what I’m sure is not only her phone number but mine as well. I’m in over my head with the two of them ganging up on me. I’m just going to have to try harder to keep Cameron in the friend zone. That’s where he needs to be.

Our jobs depend on it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Self-preservation and all that.

Chapter 6

Cameron

As I board the bus for the away game, I’m on sensory overload. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I got called up, and tomorrow night, I’ll be wearing a Blaze uniform as I step out onto the field. That’s surreal within itself. From the time I was a little boy, I dreamed of playing in the big leagues, and now, here I am.

Then there’s Paisley. To say it was a shock to find out she and Willow are my new neighbors is an understatement. However, it’s good to know that I have an ally in Willow. She not only gave me her number last night but she also gave me Paisley’s. I’m sure that goes against some kind of girl code, which tells me that Paisley is more interested in me than she’s letting on. I feel confident Willow wouldn’t have given me her number if that were not the case.

Making my way down the aisle, I see Paisley sitting by the window with her eyes closed and her earbuds in. I have to bite down on my cheek to keep from smiling. Instead of making a scene, I drop into the seat next to her. I am the new guy, after all. I don’t have a bond with the other players, so sitting with the trainer, the sexy-as-fuck trainer, is an obvious choice. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

I get settled and look across the aisle to see none other than Drew Milton watching me. I shrug as if to say what do you do, then close my eyes and rest my head back against the seat. I’m not thrilled he’s going to get a front-row view of my time with Paisley, but it’s only a two-hour drive, so it will be fine. It’s not like I plan to seduce her right here on the bus.

When the bus begins to move, I feel her shift beside me. I open my eyes in time to see her rest her head against my shoulder. She’s snuggled up underneath a Blaze blanket, and she looks peaceful. I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and hold her against my chest. A throat clearing pulls my attention.

I turn to see Coach Drummond watching me intently. “Sir?”

“I’ve got my eye on you, Taylor,” he whispers.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” And I mean it. I’m glad he’s looking out for her, but what he doesn’t understand is that I’m the last person he needs to protect her from. I’m sure Drew has talked to him, and hell, from what I’ve heard about Easton Monroe, I wouldn’t put it past him to have called to talk to the coach either. I just want the chance to get to know her. Maybe hold her in my arms while she sleeps. Is that too much to ask?

Paisley moves, causing her blanket to fall over into my lap. Underneath the cover, my hand seeks out hers as I lace our fingers together. With my head back against the headrest and her head on my shoulder, I let the lull of the tires against the pavement put me to sleep.

“Shit.” I hear a soft mumble.

Slowly, I blink open my eyes to find Paisley staring at me wide-eyed. “Hey, beautiful,” I whisper into the quiet of the bus.

“Hi,” she says shyly. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep on you.”

I give her hand that I’m still holding under the blanket a soft squeeze. “It’s okay. We still have a good hour and a half to go,” I say, looking at the time on my phone. “Go back to sleep.”

“We can’t just…” Her voice trails off.

“We can,” I assure her. She chews on her bottom lip. Her unease is evident. “Hey.” I turn to face her, keeping my voice soft. “No one is paying a bit of attention to us.”

“They might.”

“I don’t care if they do.”

“I’m the trainer for this team.”

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