Page 1 of Change Your Play

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Cleo

The Delicious KYU Property

The very last place in the world I wanted to be in was Oklahoma.

I belonged at Marrs University, Texas. The same college my mom went to, the same one my grandfather attended. Growing up, there wasn’t a room in the house without the dark blue banners, and season tickets for the Romans were considered part of the household budget.

Marrs University would always mean everything to me. And as a proud member of the football team’s public relations department, all I wanted to do was plant my butt in the training center andrevelin my summer internship.

Instead, I was shipped off to Kennedy Young University - KYU, our biggest rival, right smack in the middle of Oklahoma.

Just fabulous.

“And do you do white drizzle mochas?” I asked the barista at the only coffee shop on campus, straightening my blazer.

The fresh crackle of ground coffee filled the air, the warm scent wiped away my irritation. If I ever needed an IV, a cold brew drip would’ve done just fine.

With the head coach’s black card, I needed seven coffees and my own white drizzle mocha. It was part of my grand master plan to survive the day of interviews.

Oh—sorry—no. Unofficial conversations to build foundations toward lasting relationships with KYU football players.

Basically, we were scouting potential transfers but we couldn’topenlycall it that.

The barista frowned. “White drizzle? Like a white chocolate drizzle?”

I nodded vigorously, counting down the seconds in my head.

How long did I realistically have before my absence was noted? With the head intern position now vacant, I had to prove myself. No matter what, I had to show how I was absolutely priceless to the team and—

The bell over the door jingled, and I glanced back as the barista rang up my order.

Towering in the archway at six-foot-four was Miles Locke. Arguably the best player at KYU. I’d done everything to get him in our temporary War Room and was told in no uncertain terms that Miles Locke was completely off-limits. Nobody got to touch Miles. He was KYU property.

The photos don’t do him justice.

“Ma’am?”

I snapped back to the counter, face burning. Was that a blush? I didn’t blush. I was a representative of Marrs University. Blushing wasnoton today’s schedule.

“The name for the order?”

“Marrs,” I offered. “Marrs University.”

While the baristas passed one black coffee after another to the counter, I snuck another look at the top KYU player, now in line, the one scouted by everyone and anyone. It was my job to know his stats, and I rattled them off in my head, the same as all the other players we’d talked with throughout the day. Stats weren’t the only thing about him though.

Dirty blonde hair, slicked back from a workout or a shower, and layers and layers of muscle, I stole as many tiny looks as I could. His arms alone would’ve made me do a double take at a grocery store. The kind of delicious facial hair that had to feel good rubbing between your legs.

Absolutely not.

As a representative of Marrs University, I prided myself on keeping everything neat and put together. Thinking those kinds of thoughts about a KYU player wasn’t smart, wasn’t ideal, and wasn’tpossible. Nope. Not possible.

But, I could steal just one more look…

“What thefuckwas that?”

The commotion had me glancing at the door and my stomach dropped. I’d been so focused on rolling Miles through my dirty thoughts, I completely spaced theotherKYU football player.

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