Page 33 of Against The Rules

TYLER

I can’t take my eyes off her.

It’s distracting. It’s a problem.

I’m not sure I care enough to really try and stop staring. Her bright blonde hair stands out like a beacon, and I can’t look away.

Usually, when I’m on the field, everything else disappears, the noise of the crowd, the blaring music—nothing competes with my focus on the game, on catching the ball and making plays.

I made enough plays today that I don’t think my job’s in trouble, but I certainly wasn’t playing at the level I usually do, and I’m just thankful that I’m off the field during these last two minutes and can stare at Savannah shaking her impossibly sexy ass from the sidelines without worrying about missing a ball.

Mine, on the other hand, are blue as fuck, because there’s no room for anyone but Savannah and football right now.

I half-watch the game, my gaze continually sliding to where she dances in navy blue and gold, sparkling brighter than the fireworks that go off after a touchdown. It’s a damn good thing we’re playing out of town the next few weeks, because she’s distracting as all hell.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Jacob’s voice is low, but too loud for my comfort.

“Shut the hell up,” I tell him.

“The blonde one? Shaking her ass?”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” I growl, staring him down.

Jacob, though, just grins at me, then claps me on the shoulder. “You’ve got it real bad, don’t you, little bro? Man.” He shakes his head, pulling off his helmet and taking one of the offered sports drinks from the training staff. “You ready to see Mom and Dad tomorrow? Brunch, right?”

I nod, then realize what a fucking idiot I am. I’m trying to keep this shit secret, and I’m about as transparent as the damn ice cubes floating in my own Gatorade.

Jacob knew which girl was Savannah in a heartbeat.

“She’s going to be there tomorrow, too,” I grit out.

Jacob turns slowly, ignoring the final play of the game to stare at me. “The fuck?”

“Savannah is coming to brunch with Mom and Dad.”

“Are you going to tell them you two are—”

“Shut the fuck up!” I bark at him, only succeeding in getting the attention of nearly everyone within earshot. Smart. As fuckin’ usual. “No. She’s going as my girlfriend.”

It’s ridiculous, the wave of warmth that goes through me at the word. I haven’t had a girlfriend in a long time. A lot of girls who were friends… and then some, but nothing serious.

Nothing like what I’m pretending at with Savannah.

My teeth grind together, and I force myself to take another drink, then rake a hand through my hair.

“Girlfriend,” Jacob muses. “I mean, Mom and Dad will probably be happier about that title than… the other.”

If looks could kill, Jacob would be dead.

“Why? You don’t think I’m good enough for her?” I know I’m not, and it must be all the unspent adrenaline and testosterone from the game, but I dare him to say it. Out loud. Fighting might not be allowed on the team, but what happens between brothers at home?

They can’t do shit about that.

I stare at Jacob, waiting for him to agree.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

He shakes his head, a dark curl dropping into his eyes. Frowning, he pushes it back, then laughs. “You’re a fucking idiot. I didn’t mean that. Mom and Dad will be furious if they found out you went and… you know, in Vegas. I don’t know your… girlfriend at all.”

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