Diego raises his hand like we’re in class. “What if media pulls us? Do we just … go?”
“You check with me or the clubhouse attendant first,” I say. “You don’t open your mouth to anyone without clearing it first, or we’ll have a chat.”
Lucas leans back in his chair, and his foot shifts against mine, causing a trail of tingles that shouldn’t be possible through leather. “What she means is, if you mess with her instructions, she’ll mess you up.”
A few of the guys laugh. I roll my eyes. “I prefer the term ‘redirect.’”
“Violently redirect,” he adds, his eyes flashing in a way that makes my chest go hot.
Darius clears his throat. “And if we say something stupid?”
“Don’t,” I say automatically.
Lucas taps his fork lightly against his plate. “But if you do, laugh about it. Pretend it was intentional and then say something better.”
“That’s not bad advice,” I say. “But better yet: don’t say anything stupid.”
“Scottie likes to ask the impossible of us,” Lucas says, leaning toward Darius. The movement makes our shins bump, and it’s about to make me dissolve into a puddle. “I think she forgets we’re literally dumb jocks. It’s endearing.”
He grins at me. I exhale what I hope looks like annoyance instead of amusement or, worse, attraction.
This would be a lot easier if he weren’t so attractive.
At ten till eight, I notice the community relations coordinator, Gabriela, getting up from her table near the windows, so I get the attention of my group.
“All right, guys. You ready for your first big day?”
They all share nervous looks. Diego and Arturo look like they’re going to be sick. Only Lucas looks at ease as he gets up and gathers his dishes.
“I’ll be at the stadium at lunch after your morning workout, so we’ll go over your media-availability schedule and the social clip going live tomorrow then. It’s all going to be fine.”
My pep talk doesn’t seem to be making an impact, so I add, “You wouldn’t be here if they didn’t believe in you. You got this!”
Lucas gives me the smallest wink, like I’m the one who needs convincing. And the tingles that were only at our points of contact spread over my whole body.
The others all walk toward the porte cochere entrance, where the buses will be arriving any minute. Lucas hangs back.
And there are sparks. Tangible, probably visible ones. Definitely forbidden ones.
“You look absurd in that hoodie,” I say.
“Absurdly good looking, you mean?” he mutters. “Besides, you should talk. You have no idea how hot you look in a blazer and jeans.”
“Now that I know how much you like it, I’m not sure if I should wear it every day or never again just to mess with you.”
“I win either way.”
“How’s that?”
His eyes glint with mischief. “You thinking of me when you decide what to wear? That’s a win.”
Heat travels up my body. “You’re impossible,” I say.
“Entirely too possible,” he counters.
Gabriela calls my name from behind us right then. I don’t jump. I refuse to. But my pulse spikes like I’ve been caught doing something far worse than standing too close to a man in neon.
“Time to go,” I say.
