Page 6 of Out of Bounds

And she’d shown up with no underwear.

Not even a thong.

With the snap of his wrist, Adam Russell dangled one of my earphones over me. "Tell me, what thehellare you listening to?"

I raised the weights again. "No idea."

"Are you still pussywhipped? This is getting old, captain."

"Our training slot ends at eight," I reminded him, irritated.

"Ryan—"

"Stop bothering me. Get back to work."

"Eh, wrong answer. This is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen." Adam stretched back. "King!"

I could’ve tossed the weights at him. The linebacker was one of my best boys on and off the team, but this whole thing was his damn fault. If he hadn’t slept through his photoshoot, I wouldn’t have had to take his place at the dinner.

And I wasn't pussywhipped. There weren’t hidden meanings in my actions.

Yes. Kassandra Ragar was attractive with a curved smirk that any man would’ve taken a double look at. And maybe all the blood in my body had gone right to my cock when she unsheathed her claws. That was a momentary lapse of judgment.

Any man would’ve reacted the same.

At the end of the day, all I wanted was to apologize and move past it. It’s a captain’s responsibility to keep a good reputation for the team. Which doesn’t include sparring with a mouthy art student.

I just wanted to apologize. But finding Kassandra Ragar turned out to be impossible.

It was better to put the energy into weight training. At least I’d be too tired to go looking again.

"Adam, leave him alone." King sighed from the archway.

The defensive end grimaced at me when I looked up. He must’ve been trying to keep Adam on a leash for a while.

"I’ve got something that’ll fix this," Adam chuckled.

"Fuck off, Adam," I warned.

"This one’s funnier." He scrolled through his phone next to me. "I promise from the bottom of my heart."

Hopefully, his phone would fall and crack into a million pieces, but luck hadn’t been on my side lately. I must’ve seen dozens and dozens of that goddamn photo.

Cleo’s boss, the actual public relations guy who dealt with Marrs University’s biggest clients, approved the week’s social media updates without our head intern combing through them. And he had the ingenious idea to pick a picture that must’ve looked innocent to him at first glance. Kassie in that short jumpsuit, me in slacks. Except it was one of the few shots we weren’t smiling at each other. I’d been saying something, looking like an asshole, and Kassie stared at me, the way someone stares at a guy, acting like an asshole.

That one image spread everywhere.

With the bobblehead between us. Fucking fantastic.

If everything else hadn’t happened, it would’ve been fine. I couldn’t lie, it was a funny picture. But then the hockey team incident got out. And no amount of fire extinguishers could put a pause on that leaked video.

Our school was heading up the rosters, but Cleo said we were trending for a completely different reason.

What the hell is up with Marrs University?

Adam’s phone hovered over me. I didn’t bother to read the caption. Pushing the weights back into place, I got him back to work. "Bench press. Thumbless grip. Now."

"That’s funny."

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