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Sidelined
Sidelined 1
Addison
“Read’emandweep, boys.” I grin wickedly as I lay down my hand, a straight flush.
Trevor’s trademark smile droops, replaced with a look of disbelief. Alex drops his head in defeat and mumbles, “Damn, not again.”
My eyes drift to the man across from me, Eric. A wicked smirk washes over my face as I watch his thumb toy with the full bottom lip he likes to play with when he’s deep in thought. Half the fun of winning is watching him worry that lip before he folds.
He taps the bottom edge of his cards on the table with a frustrated sigh, then lays his cards down in disgust. Ahhh. Sweet acceptance.
I pull the chips toward me while triumphantly humming, “Another One Bites the Dust.” I freakin’ love this game, mostly because I never get tired of beating the guys. It’s so satisfying to see grown men pout.
“You never should’ve invited your sister.” Trevor crosses his arms in front of his beefy chest with a curt headshake.
“Are you kidding? I bet he’s in on it with her.” Eric’s suspicious gaze darts between me and Alex. “They’re both playing us and splitting the pot.”
“How? I know neither one of ’em can count cards,” Trevor grumbles.
“They’re twins. They can probably read each other’s minds.” Eric’s jaw shifts with a disapproving crack.
Telepathy would be a great trick, but my brother and I don’t have any twin mojo I can exploit. I’m just really good at spotting tells, especially among this group. My brother, well, that’s self-explanatory. Trevor is exceptionally transparent, wearing the strength of his hand on his face, and Eric…well, when you’ve secretly pined after someone as long as I have him, there’s not much about him I can’t read.
Though he routinely wears a blank expression around me, the corner of his right eye twitches when he has a good hand. Yes, I watch him closely enough to notice that. Meanwhile, I don’t think he gives me enough thought to register the color of my hair.
As with the rest of the team, I’m off-limits because my brother is his teammate, and Alex doesn’t want any crossover between his team and his sister. Not that that would make a difference. Eric seems to prefer miniature Barbies over Amazons, so even if I weren’t related to Alex, he’d probably still treat me like a little sister.
“We’ve been playing this game for three years and you’re just now figuring out our ruse?” He winks at me while taking a sip of his beer.
“Don’t give them any ideas. I need them to keep playing so I can afford to eat this week.” I slap my brother’s arm.
“Please,” Eric scoffs. “You soccer players got the same name, image, and likeness deal as every other college athlete. No way you’re hurting for money.”
Typical Eric, dismissing me as the annoying sister. If he wasn’t so drop-dead sexy, I’d have found another secret crush. Unfortunately for me, my lady parts have their sights set on him, if my fluttering nether regions are any indication.
As much as he wants to pretend he’s the typical college jock, he’s different. He never ignores a fan, especially the younger ones who dream of being like him one day. I’ve seen him volunteer around the community more times than I can count, and he’ll do anything for his teammates. It makes me like him that much more, even though he bickers with me like it’s his job. Lucky for me, I can give as good as I get, so his comments only fuel my fire. And if he doesn’t like me, at least I can make sure he won’t forget me.
“Unlike you football stars, we soccer players don’t have to beat the sponsors away with a stick.” I collect the cards from the table and shuffle them with the finesse of a Vegas dealer, one of many random skills I picked up over the years trying to entertain myself when Alex wasn’t around.
“Your teammate, Bridget, seems to be doing okay for herself.” Trevor’s coy smile is designed to bait me.
“I’d rather be known for my skill on the field than what my tatas look like.” I put the cards in their box, sensing we’re done for the evening.
“Tatas? What are you, twelve?” Eric snorts. “Besides, swimsuits are a perfectly good product to hawk.”
“Not for my sister.” Alex tosses a handful of peanuts into his mouth.
“That was a swimsuit?” I ignore them both to needle Trevor. “I couldn’t tell with all the cleavage blurring my vision.”
“That was a very flattering swimsuit.” He grins around the bottle of beer he brings to his lips.
“Pig.” I shove at his shoulder.
“How come I’m a pig and Eric isn’t? He said there’s nothing wrong with promoting swimsuits.”
“If I was a swimmer, there wouldn’t be,” I singsong with a plastic smile.
