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Fifteen
Lee
It’s our first preseason game today, and instead of having my head in the game, it’s on Shayna.
Since the night she stayed at my place, there’s been a shift between us. It’s not like we’re actual friends or anything—I mean, I’m not texting her or grabbing something to eat with her—but she doesn’t turn around and go in the opposite direction when she sees me either. The energy wafting off her feels natural and no longer like she’d like to bury an axe in my head.
Which is great, right?
I mean, isn’t that exactly what I wanted all along?
So I don’t know why I feel as if I can have more from her. Even if she was willing, it’s not like anything can happen between us with us both working for the Kingsmen. Not to mention the fact that my mind needs to be focused on being the best quarterback in the league to ensure the Kingsmen will sign me again.
Still, I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want her up against a wall, on my kitchen counter, in my bed. Pretty much any position she’d want to be in. And I’d be crazy if I said I didn’t wonder if sometimes she feels the same. I’m sure when she acted as though she wanted to string me up by the balls that was genuine. But when I leaned past her to set the glass down and grab the towel, I saw disappointment in her eyes when I withdrew. If I didn’t think I was crazy for saying so, I’d say she wished I would have made a move.
But that doesn’t make any sense. And this is what consumes me more than the fucking playbook.
Needing to tape up my ankles, I head over to the trainers’ area. Shayna is finishing up Darius, so I rush over to be next.
“All set?” she asks and pats the table without noticing it’s me.
I slide on and she looks around as if people are gawking at us.
“Yep.” I slide into position and stretch out my legs. I’m still wearing my basketball shorts.
She grabs the tape from a nearby table. Although I’ll only get minutes with her, her hands will be touching me. God, I sound like a creep.
She straightens and widens her stance. “All right, let’s do your left foot first.”
Her delicate fingers grasp my ankle, tugging my foot forward. I should have had a conversation starter in mind. We’re trying to be friends and friends talk about stuff with each other. She said she didn’t want to be the kind of friends who text and hang out, but she also said she could never forgive me and look where we are now. I’m hopeful our friendship can grow into something more… when one of us moves to another team.
The truth is, I just like being around her. Simple as that.
“Did you ever find out where Bryce was last weekend?” I ask.
She doesn’t look up at me, using all her concentration on where she’s whipping the roll of tape around my leg, but one corner of her mouth creeps up. “I did.”
When she doesn’t offer anything else, I say, “And…”
“And it’s none of your business.”
She’s a good secret keeper for her friend, since my assumption is Bryce went off with a player. “Ah, so she hooked up with someone.”
Her gaze darts around the room, but she doesn’t confirm or deny what I say. “I didn’t say she hooked up.”
I chuckle. “You didn’t have to.”
Shayna rolls her eyes, but it feels kind of playful, so again—progress.
The morning after the gala, she called the hotel and tracked down her purse. Apparently it had been swept up with the auction items, but the person who collected it noticed the next morning and returned it to the hotel’s lost and found. I took her back to the hotel, then dropped her off at Bryce’s since she’d returned home by then.
She sets down my left ankle and goes to my right. “How do you feel about today’s game?”
I crack my neck a couple times. “I feel good. We should be able to beat Green Bay, but I always have nerves before a game.”
Shayna nods. “Makes sense. It’s the first time you’re going to see how everyone works together in a game.”
Her hair falls and tickles my left calf. My hand itches to tuck it behind her ear. “Exactly. Practice is one thing, but an actual game is something else entirely. Different players on the other side, more pressure, a stadium full of fans.”
