Bennett clicks his fingers as if he’s devised a brilliant idea. “I could ask my uncle if we could—”
“No,” Nathan interrupts. “Working at your uncle’s ranch doesn’t count as charity work.”
“Ranch?” I ask.
Poppy laughs. “Bennett, here, is a real country boy at heart. Runs a ranch with his uncle that he lives on during the off-season.”
I’m intrigued. Considering my mother limits the amount of time her cheerleaders spend in the football player’s company, Poppy sure does know enough about them.
My eyebrows hike up, and I peek under the table to take a look at Bennett’s tennis shoes, humming with a small smile. “Cowboy boots at the dry cleaners?”
Nathan chokes on his water, and Bennett booms with laughter, his palm hitting the wooden table. “Can’t wear them around these guys,” he says with a grin. “They’d tarnish them.”
“You should see his uncle. He comes to Bennett’s games wearing his cowboy hat. I’ve never seen him without it, but, strangely, it’s kind of hot.”
“Please keep those kind of thoughts to yourself. I don’t want to imagine you fucking my sixty-year-old uncle.” He grimaces at Poppy before tipping his beer in my direction, quickly recovering. “So, Mae. You’ve joined the team mid-season. There’s got to be a story behind that?”
“So nosy,” Nathan mutters. His perfectly carved face is glowering again, and I resist the urge to ask him if he came out of his mother with a face that disgruntled… and hot.
“My mom needed someone. I used to dance, so I have experience, and yeah, here I am.” I shrug. It’s not an overly interesting story. Especially because I’m unwilling to explain how I lost my dream job.
I’d asked my mother not to disclose that information, and I was thankful when she actually agreed—most likely because she doesn’t want people to think of her daughter as a failure. But it works for me, so I don’t mind. “I’m only here for the rest of this season, though. Then, I’ll be moving to start a veterinarian nurse training program.”
Nathan’s head tips, his face deadpan, shoulders broad and barely fitting between the wall and Bennett's. “Where’ll you be moving? Somewhere far away?”
Annoyance sparks inside me, and I open my mouth to make a bitter remark about him needing to change his name from Nathan Slater to Nathan Sourpuss, but Poppy speaks first.
“Animals!”
Nathan looks confused as he turns to the excited blonde. “Yes, that’s what a veterinarian does?”
“No, animals are fun. Let’s work at an animal shelter. We can walk the dogs, cuddle the cats, feed the… hamsters? Do they have hamsters there?” Pride swarms her. “The community will love that.”
Bennett nods. “Not a bad idea.”
I smile, trying to fight the excitement that rushes to my face, but volunteering at an animal shelter is right up my alley. “I’m happy with that. It sounds fun.”
Bennett cocks an eyebrow at his teammate, and Nathan swallows, taking another sip of his water, swiping the excess off his bottom lip with his tongue.
Why does he have to do that when I’m supposed to find him the most unappealing man alive?
“I don’t care,” he responds.
Bennett sniggers, holding his drink up to cheers us, sending me a wink. “To good luck this season. Some of us are going to need it more than others.”
I sigh. And looking at how Nathan glares at his football friend like he wants to knock the beer glass right out of his hand, Bennett’s right.
6: Nathan
Itap my foot on the dirt path outside the Missarali City Animal Shelter, the sound of dogs barking and heavy metal doors being opened and closed coming from behind me. The air is bitter today, and I glare down at the goosebumps on my skin, checking the time on my watch for what feels like the tenth time this minute.
I’m a punctual person—another trait I picked up from my father.
At least this one is useful though.
Darrell seemed intrigued when we informed him of the place we’d decided to volunteer at. There’s something comical about Montana's big, beefy heartthrobs—the media’s words, not mine—having photos taken cuddling tiny, fluffy kittens.
I won’t be surprised if the animals scamper off with their tails between their legs.
