Page 90 of Breaking Away

Sonya nudges me. “Start taking pictures for your account, Kavi.”

I stiffen. “No, I don’t have permission.”

Her mouth opens to argue, but before she can, Pink Headband spots her. Something ripples across his expression, quickly replaced with an over-the-top grin. He saunters our way.

“Sonya. Kavi. Nice to see you both. Kavi, if you are looking for our Great Wall of Emotionally Stunted Ice, don’t be afraid if he doesn’t move for the next twenty minutes. He’s not dead. He just shuts off before the game. Something about ‘visualizations’ I assume.”

The hunky blond-haired captain does air-quotes. “But I’m available for all your needs.” Blue eyes dance to Sonya.

She scoffs. “I see hickeys on your neck.”

Pink Headband is taken back. He looks at her neck.

“You won’t find any on mine.” She delivers a stone-faced shoo-off wave.

His lips curve into a different smirk. Sex-drenched and devastating. “Any chance you would like some, sweetheart? I know a man.”

Dead-eyed, Sonya doesn’t blink. She flat out tells him, “Sex with me is overrated. It’s like fucking a puppet.”

I choke out a laugh.

Paradoxically, Pink Headband’s eyes light up. Before he can vocalize one of the many things clearly running through his head, Sonya takes my arm and walks us away.

The Wings coach intercepts us, and air peters out of me. I’ve got my apologies ready, preparing myself mentally to get thrown out.

Coach Forrester is a bulky man with short-cropped hair and a neck that always has veins standing out. His suit is well-fitted, but because of the sheer width of his body, looks baggy. Around his mouth are prominent lines. Either he’s had a full life of laughing or yelling. He glances at the camera slung around my neck and nods. “I’m guessing this is our new social media manager.”

What—no—I’m not?—

I’m about to clear everything up when he gets pulled away by someone else.

I turn to Sonya, horrified. “I’m not.”

We should leave before anyone thinks the same!

“Just go with it, Kavi. Don’t you want to win the bet?”

“No, nobody agreed to get their pictures taken by me?—”

She sighs something about sacrifices. Then she crooks a finger at Pink Headband.

He takes his time approaching. “Am I being summoned?”

“Kavi can take pictures of the team, right?”

“Can she?”

“She’s your new social media manager. Can you tell the team?”

He cocks his head, expression unreadable. “What’s the magic word?”

“You are a very reprehensible man.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I tell both of them, screeching. “I’mnotthe actual social media person and definitelynotqualified.”

Sure, I know my way around a camera, but that’s not good enough. I tug at the collar of my top. If I take this kind of gig—even for a fake second—I won’t measure up. I’m not ready.

Pink Headband rubs his jaw. Then he raises his voice, not taking his eyes off Sonya. “Team. Kavi is our new social media manager. Give her whatever she needs.”

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