Miles smashed his smoothie against the back of Sullender’s head and chunky purple liquid juice fleweverywhere.
A public relations nightmare.
Thomas flew to the dirt, stunned, and Miles didn’t hesitate. He strode over and steadied my arm, taking the trays away from me to stack properly again.
“Are you okay?” He brushed down my arm, searching my face for an answer. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I—I’m fine—”
“Let me buy you another coffee.”
Stunned, I took a deep breath. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He wants to buy me a coffee.
I banished the thought as soon as it popped up. Maybe it was the delicious cologne that he had on. Maybe it was the way my knees felt just a little weaker around him. Either way, I couldn’t trust myself around Miles Locke. And while I appreciated the gesture, I really couldn’t get caught up in a video with football players brawling outside of a coffee shop.
“Thank you,” I told him, pulling the black coffees from him. “Seriously, I appreciate it. Thank you. But I have to go.”
“I’m Miles—”
“Thanks, again.” With a spin, I made a beeline to the KYU training center. Back to finish my day of listless interviews to figure out the one or two football players we wanted to make offers to.
2
Miles
All The Coffee In The World
They say lightning never strikes the same place twice but I know for a fact that saying is bullshit. It does strike twice. It struck me at least a dozen times at the coffee shop.
I had no idea who she was, and I intended to find out.
“Sullender?”
Through the path of the splattered smoothie, I traced my teammate to the side of a restaurant. A kitchen worker hosed him off and I could tell Sullender was in no mood for a conversation. That was fine. But I was on a mission.
“Sullender? Who is she?”
His eyes narrowed. “Go fuck yourself, Locke.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” I shrugged. “I’m sure coach would love to hear all about this afternoon's coffee shop adventure.”
“She’s the Marrs bitch,” he barked.
That’s not nice.
With a shake of my head, I grabbed the back of his hair and yanked him up. Football teams are supposed to be like your second family, but I was learning that it is so damn easy to really, really hate your extended family.
“If you talk about her like that again, the two of us will count your teeth on the pavement.”
He tried to jerk away from me but when that didn’t work, his voice dropped to a hiss. “She’s on the scouting team for Marrs.”
“Thank you, Sullender. I’ll see you at practice,” I told him cheerfully, releasing my grip.
His final threat only echoed as far as the street allowed, and I pushed back into the coffee shop. They'd already scheduled the potential transfer players for first appearances, and my name wasn't on that list.