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Center Sneak

Page 88

by Sadie Henley

“I like it.” I clap my hands. “Do you think that’s boring though? Maybe we should do two things.”

“You really want to spill a drink on her, don’t you?”

“I really do.”

* * *

Calvin and I stumble through the hotel lobby an hour later, cackling with tears in our eyes.

I’ve never done anything so petty in my life, and I absolutely enjoyed every second. The face the Hyena formed after my dramatic trip and wine spill was *chef’s kiss*.

She was mortified, then ran straight out of there.

Cal and I couldn’t figure out what beverage would be worse: red wine or a white Russian. Red wine was the obvious choice, but the curdling smell of spoiled milk was too delightful to pass up.

After the drink was spilled, Cal hurried over to help, and ended up tripping over the same invisible mark on the ground.

What are the chances?

“Okay. Let’s get a quick picture,” Cal says as we exit the lobby into the valet parking area.

I snap a few pictures of Feet’s little red sports car, and glance at the results. It came out better than I thought it would.

“I’ll send it to you,” I say as I tap Calvin’s name on my phone.

Our final mission for tonight is to list an ad for an amazing car at a great steal, with Athena’s number attached. Not as immediate as my drink idea, but hopefully just as effective.

“What do you think?” Cal hands over his phone to me and I view the ad. He selected the one with the Hyena’s backside, hovering near the vehicle, with the caption “I’m not included, but may be interested in hearing all offers.” A winky face and a number round out the post.

“That’s brutal,” I say, laughing. “Do it.”

He sends me a conspiratorial smirk, and I never thought I’d have this much fun at a work holiday party, but I do.

Cal tends to make everything a little more enjoyable.

Chapter Forty-Four

Calvin

“Hey, so I didn’t realize you were dating Sebastian’s sister?” Quinn Banks says as he tosses me a small white towel on the sideline of the training facility. I catch it and then wipe the sweat off my forehead, which has significantly doubled in the last five seconds.

Practice is over for the day, but I stuck around longer to do some extra reps with Quinn and two of the receivers who are struggling with their routes.

My eyes shoot down the hundred yards of the bright green turf.

Quinn chuckles. “He’s not here. It’s just us.”

I toss the tiny towel over my shoulder.

“I’m not looking for anyone,” I lie, and Quinn smirks in return, not believing my shit. “And I’m not dating anyone,” I add, which is unfortunately true.

“But you want to.” Quinn’s eyes bore into me.

I should have known that I can’t slip anything past him. Quinn’s not the best quarterback in the league because he can’t read a situation. Sometimes I think he has multiple sets of eyes because he sees everything, even more so than me.

I move down the field and head into the locker room, where Quinn matches me step for step, chuckling beside me.

When we reach the lockers, he stops and adds, “Just be careful, all right?”