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Even though I don’t consciously search for Austin, it only takes seconds for my gaze to zero in on him. There’s something about his presence that commands my attention. I glance at the small groups of girls hanging around and realize I’m not the only one affected.
If there were a way to fight this growing attraction, I’d do it in a heartbeat, but there’s not.
I’ve tried everything.
I’m like a rabbit caught in a snare, unable to free itself. The more I struggle, the more entrapped I become.
After several failed attempts to refocus on my work, I shove my book and notebook to the side before pulling out my camera. I remove a shorter lens in favor of a longer one and lift the Nikon to my face. Once Austin is in view, I adjust the lens and the image sharpens. My finger hits the shutter button, and the camera clicks in rapid succession.
My mouth dries as I continue snapping shots.
The way his white practice pants hug his lean hips and thighs has a reluctant burst of arousal exploding in my core. His waist is narrow and tapered. There’s not an ounce of fat on him, and the pads make his shoulders seem even broader than they already are. With the gold helmet in place, I can’t see his face clearly, but I feel the zip of electricity sizzle through my veins and know he’s watching me.
Eye contact is abruptly severed when Jasper plows into him. Austin stumbles a few paces before straightening to his full height and swinging around. A couple guys flank my ex, ready to jump in if needed. Jasper’s hands remain clenched at his sides.
Air gets clogged in my lungs as I wait for Austin’s reaction. My gaze bounces between the two as the tension on the field turns suffocating. It's almost as if Jasper is waiting for Austin to lose his shit and make the first move.
Realization dawns.
That’s exactly what he’s doing.
Coach Baker and several of his assistants stare at the boys.
All the other players do as well.
The field becomes still. Everyone seems to be waiting for an explosion to rock the stadium.
Heart pounding, I worry my lower lip, hoping that Austin won’t take the bait.
Because that’s exactly what this is—a trap.
A slow grin spreads across Austin’s face. Even from here, I see the flash of white teeth in the sunlight. He dusts off the front of his jersey with both hands before taking a step in retreat.
As he does, Jasper lurches forward. Even though I can’t see his face, his tense stance screams that he’s all but itching to tackle his teammate to the ground. Barely contained rage bristles from him. His friends grab his jersey, pulling him back, as the coach’s whistle rents the air.
My shoulders collapse as relief floods through me. Maybe I shouldn’t care what happens to Austin, but I do. Life at HP would probably be easier if he were expelled. But I don’t want to see that happen.
I don’t want Jasper to win.
It’s obvious from the taunting smile on Austin’s face that he was prepared for a fight.
It’s all part of the plan.
That’s all I am to him.
A plan.
Jasper swings around and glares at me. I can’t help but recoil from the fury filling his expression. That’s when I slip the camera back into the case and refocus on pre-calculus. My insides are a jangled mess, and I need something to calm them.
“Hey.”
My head snaps up as Summer and Everly settle on the bench beside me. “Hi.”
Distrust glints in the dark-haired girl’s eyes, and I get the feeling she’s trying to figure me out.
Her attention deviates to the field for a moment or two before returning to me. “What are you doing here?”
I should have expected Summer to seek me out. “Watching practice.”
