Page 37 of Tumbling the Cornerback

"Gotta go. Call you later."

I shoved my phone back into my bag and ran onto the field, jamming my helmet into place as I moved. Giving Coach an apologetic nod, I took my place and waited for the signal to begin.

Lucas: I have the books now. Muahahaha. Bow before me!

He attached a picture of the bags from Renny's shop on his coffee table.

Lucas: Are we ever going to exchange, or is this going to be our cutesy relationship thing?

Me: Cutesy relationship thing?

The sounds of the locker room bounced around me as the guys showered and dressed, shit-talking each other with some serious conversations wound between. No one bothered me as I sat half-dressed on the bench near my locker, texting with Lucas.

Lucas: Like some people have a song or a restaurant or a place. We have two unopened bags of books we just keep passing back and forth.

I thought of the book I'd picked for him, and anxious excitement prickled along my spine. I'd hoped he'd like it but now, so many days out from actually choosing it, I was having doubts. Maybe he'd hate it, I thought. Maybe he'd think I was making fun of him or that I didn't take him seriously or?—

Lucas: Or not?

Me: Sunday night. We'll trade then. No matter what.

He sent me a string of emojis, making me grin like a giddy kid.

"Hey there, Loverboy," Matty sing-songed, dropping to sit beside me. "Gonna put on pants, or is this a free show for all comers?"

Slamming my knees closed, I shot him a glare. "Just resting for a minute. The new plays kicked my ass a little."

He chuffed softly, rolling his neck from side to side and working out a kink. "Preseason is starting soon. The Copperheads are looking strong this year."

"So are we," one of the other guys called from across the room. "They ain't got nothing on us!"

Matty rolled his eyes as the newer players started up a raft of shit talk about our biggest rivals. Most of us knew no amount of bigging ourselves up would compensate for lax skills and cockiness. "Listen, I know you know about the rumors, you being out on a date with Lucas Ortiz. But just a head's up—we've got your back if anything comes out, okay?"

I bit down hard on the admission—yeah, he and I were officially official now, and he was amazing, and anyone who had something to say about it could talk to me directly. "It's just gossip. I'm helping out that queer kids sports nonprofit Lucas volunteers with, and people have nothing better to do than run their mouths."

He grunted, looking out over the rest of the guys. "Just watch yourself, alright? I don't want you to have to muck yourself out of some shit because someone gets the wrong idea." Cutting me a sideways glance, he offered a small smile. "And let me know if they need more volunteers, alright? It sounds like an awesome group. Rye and Yowie talked about that sports festival for three days straight."

"I'll give text you their contact info."

Matty gave me a nod and got to his feet. "I'm getting outta here. Sick of you," he added in a louder voice, earning his own whistles and smack talk as he headed for his locker.

Before I went for a run, I shot off one more text to Lucas to tell him I'd be neck deep in meetings most of the afternoon.

He sent back a selfie of him making a horrified face with Running is a tool of evil superimposed over it.

I made a mental note to send him a pic later, all sweaty and shirtless after my run. Then I shoved my phone into my bag and stood. Dicking around in the locker room wouldn't make the day go any faster, and the sooner I was done with everything, the sooner I could call Lucas.

I should have known Ouisie wouldn't just let things go so easily. By the time I got out of my meeting with Cait's assistant and a video call with Phil and a new promo for the hotel group the team partnered with, she'd called six times and left five messages.

"I didn't leave a sixth because Renny showed up," she sniffed angrily. "That little weasel is up to something, I swear to god..."

"Yeah, it's called being bad at flirting," I teased. "Watching the pair of you hate fuck each other with your eyes is gross. Put the guy out of his misery and either tell him to leave you alone or ask him out."

Heloise sputtered. "I'm a single mom with my own business! I don't have time?—"

"Yeah, yeah, Reba, I remember the theme song."

"Oh, fuck you," she grumbled. "Renny's just being Renny and accused me of sending you and your, I quote, boy toy—who even says that in real life? —to spy on his shop." I didn't have to see her to know she was throwing her hands up at the very idea. "I told him we run bookstores, for fuck's sake. We don't traffic in government secrets or something. There's only so many ways to set up a used bookstore. There's only so many kinds of promos we can do! And speaking of promos..."

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