I’m floored. Flabbergasted. Gobsmacked. Win or lose, every visiting football player parties with his team after a game. And yet, this boy is willing to forgo that ritual to hang out with me? I’m beyond flattered and excited. But I’m also conflicted. If we do well today, as I’m fully expecting, we’ll move on to the finals tomorrow, in which case I shouldn’t commit to meeting up with Luca or anyone else tonight.
“What time is curfew?” I ask. At which point, my brain instantly supplies a warning shouted at me in the voices of my two older brothers.
Don’t do it, Chelsea!
My whole life, my two brothers have told me never to mess with football players.They’re players off the field, too, Pop-Tart, they always tell me.Don’t waste your time.But you know what? Screw Lincoln and Nate. They’re not here to see how cute Luca is. How charming and kissable.
Also, I bet both of them had loads more sexual experiences than me by the time they went off to college, so they’re in no position to judge. Maybe an experienced player type, someone I’ll never see again, is exactly the right guy for this particular adventure.
“Curfew’s at ten, unfortunately,” Luca says. “So we wouldn’t have that much time. But even so, I’d really love to see you again and find out how the math competition went today.”
I bite my lip, considering, as my brothers’ voices scream at me to turn him down.
“If my team does well today and advances to the finals tomorrow,” I begin, “I’ll need to get to bed no later than ten to maximize my brain function the following day. Sleep is really important for cognitive function.”
He looks deflated.
“But, I mean, yeah,” I say quickly, “either way, I could still meet up with you. All I’m saying is I’d probably want to chatin the lobby till nine forty-five or so and that’s it. If we get into the finals, I’d really have to prioritize sleep so I don’t let my teammates down.”
“I totally get it. Being a good teammate is super important. It’s the same for me.”
“To be clear, though, I’d love to meet up and hear how your game went today—even though I won’t understand a word of it.”
Traitor.
That’s what my two brothers are shouting at me in my head now. But you know what? What they don’t know won’t hurt them.
Luca isn’t even trying to wrangle his wide smile now. “Awesome. Okay. So, eight o’clock in the lobby, then?”
“Sounds good. But no pressure. If meeting up doesn’t pan out for you, just leave me a note at the front desk so I don’t worry you got hit by a bus.”
His dark eyes flicker. “Chelsea, I promise you this: Even if I get hit by a bus, I’ll still drag my maimed, bloody body to the lobby at eight.”
A swoon ripples through me. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you at eight, then.”
“You sure will.”
“Hey, Maguire!” a voice booms. “Stop flirting with the pretty girl and move out!”
“Coming, Coach!” Luca yells, raising a hand to the older gentleman. When he returns to me, he’s blushing from his neck to his forehead. “Good luck at the math-a-thon, killer. Can’t wait to hear all about it on our date.”
Our date? I’m going on my first real date tonight?
“Y-you, too, killer.”
After shooting one last beaming smile my way, Luca gets up and saunters his hot, muscular ass away. But after onlythree bounding steps, he whips back around and says, “If it turns out you can’t make it tonight, leave your phone number at the front desk for me, okay? Promise me, Chelsea.”
Well, there’s no way in hell I’m giving this Montague my phone number. The mere idea that this weekend’s flirtation might haunt me in my real life back home makes want to hurl. Unfortunately, I do that frequently when I’m panicking or feeling stressed. But I’ll definitely meet up with him again. And maybe even get my first real kiss out of the way, too. Is this tingling I’m feeling why porn is such a thing? Is this sensation what people are chasing?
“Maguire!”
Luca waves at his coach again, but I’ll be damned, he then returns to me and shouts, “If any math-y stuff gives you trouble today, remember I’m there with you in spirit!”
“The limit does not exist!” I call back.
Luca points at me with enthusiasm. “Always remember that, and you can’t go wrong.”
“WWLA,” I call back. “‘What Would Luca Answer?’ I’ll ask myself that if I have any trouble today.”
