“He’s fucking playing my sister,” Silas seethes.
“And he’s right. She’s an adult. Pretty smart one at that. Get your kit on.” He uses his shoulder to shove Silas away.
I haven’t so much as lifted a finger. Arms still at my sides. Shoulders relaxed.
Completely nonthreatening position.
But Holt still turns and glares at me too. I have him by an inch, two at most, but he feels every bit as big as me.
And then he lifts his phone and waves my own Instagram page in my face. “Quit. Baiting. Your. Fucking. Teammates.”
I don’t bait my teammates.
Only Silas.
“If they don’t want to know what I do when I’m not on the pitch, they shouldn’t look at my profile.”
“Everyone follows you becausethat’s what fucking teammates do. Might want to offer a few follow-backs. Comment. Do thisteam-buildingthing you’re talking about.”
“Fletch commented on my post of my hike yesterday,” Porter says.
“Liked all of mine from my trip to the beach,” Crew adds. “Stalker-level weird. Made me uncomfortable. But only a little.”
I let my eyebrows shrug for me as I stare back at Holt.
“You’re annoying as fuck,” he mutters.
“Her ex-boyfriend was at the wedding and she didn’t want to go alone,” I tell the captain. “What would you have done for a teammate’s sister in that situation?”
I know the answer.
I know all of the answers.
Take her to the wedding. Be a gentleman. Don’t kiss her. And especially don’t kiss her and then post a whole goddamn set of photos starting with you putting her into a brand-new Bentley and ending with you kissing her on the dance floor.
You know what sucks in this entire situation?
I didn’t even fucking kiss her.
There was no touching of the lips. None. My whiskers didn’t even get close enough to brush against her mouth.
Picture makes it appear that we did.
And I’ve had a massive case of blue balls on top of the healing rash on my ass ever since Saturday night.
Which I will not be telling anyone in this locker room.
The way Holt’s staring at me, I think he wants to believe me but he’s not entirely sure.
And that’s bad if I want this team to succeed this year.
Pissing off the captain on day one is never a good start.
“You find her someone else to go with when it’ll piss off your teammate,” he says.
“No one else is as pretty as I am.”
He growls.
