“Yeah. As soon as she saw me, her squeaky ass voice chirped my name. My dick shriveled up and went inside my body. I had to go.” He hit the table with a face of horror. “My life should be reality TV.”
“Or an ad campaign for condoms. You’re the walking definition of an STD risk.”
“I could get them to sponsor me. That’s not a bad idea. Hey, I’ll pitch the idea. Former football player coaches during the day and plays the field at night. Would you watch it?”
“Eh, I don’t like smut. It would be interesting as hell. But, you’re smut.”
“True.” He sighed and tipped the mug all the way back to finish it. “Well, we are grabbing lunch today, Grace. You can’t ignore me and get away with it.”
“I have to work, so we’ll see.” I flipped him off as he walked out, but he winked at me and pointed to Brock with a confused expression. He had to knowsomethingwas going on. I eyed Brock, who still sat there with the puzzle and his mug being all sorts of silent. “So?”
“So, what?” he said, those delicious lips curving just for me.
“Did you enjoy my morning chat with Logan?” I took a shot, almost positive that he’d had some motive.
His blank expression had me questioning myself. He eyed me over his mug, shrugging.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I blew out a raspberry with my lips and shook my head in disbelief. His grin widened before he wet his bottom lip with his tongue. “Have you even done any of the puzzle?”
“Doubting me?” He put a hand on his chest and let out a dramatic gasp. “Rude.”
“Prove it.” I walked up to the table, leaning over to see the puzzle, but he was quick and moved it out of sight. “Lack of evidence seems to prove I am right. You’re a poser.”
“Nah, I did some.” He stood up, his tall frame preventing me from seeing a thing. “Trust me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, boss man.” I nudged him before walking toward the door. “Well, big guy, I need to do some work. I can’t sit around and gossip all day.”
He rolled his eyes, the action so unlike Brock, I had to walk away to hide my grin. Shit, shit, shit. That was flirting. It had been going strong for three days. Three days, and I’d turned into this stupid, giggling love-struck teenager. Who was to say he wouldn’t regret it hours later like he did back in the hotel? No one. That’s who.
Good, my brain built up the base of the wall he’d torn down. That was a start. I needed to protect myself.
I went through the normal Thursday morning routine, the game being two days away, so the guys were running plays and studying the opponent. It wasn’t too hot out either, the water not being consumed at shocking rates. It was about midday when I walked into the training room and found Brock verbally sparring with Chip.
“Clowns? Hell no, Anderson,” Chip said, his face lighting up with a challenge. “You want to go, old man? Think you still got it?”
“I could still out run you and catch one-handed.” Brock’s words rang true. “Want to put some money on it?”
“Hell yeah. Twenty bucks.” Chip grinned, holding out his free hand. “You’re on, Anderson.”
“After practice?” Brock asked, meeting my eyes as I came into view. They were lit up, sparkling and excited for the challenge.
“Yup. Sprints?”
“We’ll do some drills.” Brock smacked his hand, shaking it. “Ready, Grace?”
“Do I have a choice?” I mumbled, getting a grin from Chip. “Want to race there?”
“Please.” He dismissed me, raising a hand to the players. When we were outside the training room, he spoke in a softer voice. “I don’t want you to hurt your knee.”
“Ah, here I thought you were afraid of my speed. But no, you’re being all chivalrous and shit.”
“Chivalrous and shit. That sounds like a good start of an online profile.” he said, the tone of his voice rising at the end in question. “Bad joke?”
“Not your best, not your worst.” Our shoulders bumped as we walked the stadium. “Where are we off to, boss man?”
“Creating workout programs for individuals. Have you had to do that in any of your classes?”
