The way she says it, she’s clearly trying to flatter him, but he tenses up, which is strange for him. I would have thought that would hit his ego in the sweet spot. It’s almost like the guy’s nervous or something, which I’ve never seen him be about football.
“Yeah, sure,” Ryan says. “That’s how the Combine should go, I guess. But what’s up with you, Ang?”
“It’s Angie,” I correct.
“It’s fine. I like Ang,” she says as she drinks him in, and that’s definitely not the way she looks at me or Lance.
I’ve noticed her sneaking looks Ryan’s way every once in a while. And if she bones the enemy…I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.
Not that I have any say in who she sleeps with, but dear God, please let it not be Ryan-fucking-Lorde.
“I swung by to spend some time with the guys,” she says. “We’re waiting for Payton, and then we were gonna head out to get some pizza at Junkie’s. You guys want to come with?”
“I’d like that,” Ryan says. “But if you’re hungry, I can grab you a little something from the kitchen.”
“I don’t know that you can offer up any of Payton’s protein bars, but I’m craving some peanut butter and chocolate right now.”
Ryan buys his own of these protein bars, but he’s notorious for digging into Payton’s stash when he runs out.
“I grabbed my own earlier this week,” he says. “They’re fucking addicting, right?”
“They really are.”
He moves closer to Angie, and I can’t help myself. “Kitchen’s over there,” I say, pointing it out, earning looks from everyone.
Funny to think I felt so good when I saw Angie was here, only for it to be ruined by Ryan.
“Mart, you didn’t offer her something already?” he asks. “Why are you being rude to our guest?”
“I just got here,” I grumble.
“Be right back.” He winks at her before heading into the kitchen.
“Speaking of which, I could use a drink,” I say.
“I can get it,” Ryan calls.
“Nah, I’m right behind you.”
Ryan moves his slow ass toward the pantry, so I sidle up beside him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I whisper.
He side-eyes me. “What’s your problem?”
“I don’t like the fact that you’re pretending to be into Angie so that you can get back at me.”
He flinches. “Angie? I’m trying to be nice. But if I weren’t, as far as I’m aware, there aren’t any rules against flirting with girls Marty McGovern likes.”
Fuck him to hell and back. “Last I checked, the asshole jock isn’t really her type.”
“From general observation, she doesn’t seem too cool with the uptight asshole either.”
As we reach the pantry, I jump in front of it, commanding his attention. “Stop this,” I insist.
“There’s nothing to stop, Mart, but if there was, what would you do? Punch me? Nah, ’cause that’s against the rules.” He really drives that last part in, stressing why he’s so angry with me.
I’m not the kind to throw punches, but if I were, I’m certain I already would have with this prick.
