Page 3 of Change Your Play

I hovered close to the door, waiting for Sullender to step aside.

“What’s going on?” Miles asked.

“None of your business, Locke,” Sullender snapped.

“That’s now how we talk around ladies.” An amused smile played on Miles’s lips and his eyes met mine.

Swoon.

Theraspin his voice. The husky notes had me pinching my fingers between the slots of the coffee tray, trying to pay attention to the conversation.

No! Focus!

The furious football player was a more pressing matter than his devilishly attractive teammate.

Miles gave me another once-over, his eyes straying down my pencil skirt, down the nylon tights, and the three-inch heels that at least gave mesomeheight with the football players. With a wolfish grin, he motioned his smoothie towards me. “And this is absolutely a lady.”

Swoon times ten.

“She’s no fucking lady, she just fucked my chance—”

I set my jaw. “Once again, I apologize—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Miles said and turned back to Sullender. “Whatever she did, I’m sure she didn’t mess it up as badly as you fucked it up yourself.”

“Shut the hell up, Locke.”

“Let’s take this outside.”

“Gladly.”

I moved toward the door but Sullender stopped me again.

“You’re not getting away that easily.”

He couldsaythat but it didn’t mean anything. In the small amount of space, I weaseled my way through the door and hurried out. Not fast enough apparently. A hand grabbed my elbow and I lurched back.

“No!” I swallowed back a curse and heaved the trays, balanced precariously in my hands. Eight coffees.Noneof them could drop. I didn’t have time to get new ones.

“I need to go,” I insisted.

“Sullender, let go of her!”

“You listen to me—”

The coffee!

I sucked in a breath. “No, no,no—”

My white drizzle mocha teetered to the side, tilting back and forth for a moment before sliding off the side. My hopes, my dreams, and my ambitions of staying awake long enough were dashed to the ground.

“Sullender, let go of her.Now!”

The hand released my blazer and I stumbled as Miles wrestled with Sullender to the shocked looks of students all around us. This couldn’t be a regular occurrence of KYU, not with all the phones propped up, gleefully recording. My instincts were telling me to get out of there. I was a PR intern, I wasn’t supposed tocreatethe disasters.

Sullender tried to grab Miles by his side and wheel him around.

“Look out!” I shouted. “He’s trying to sweep—!”

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