Page 53 of The Wrong Quarterback

She probably would have been creeped out, though.

“Oh, hi,” she said, a blush immediately creeping up on her cheeks. She started frantically brushing her hair back and adjusting her clothes, like there was any way that I could think she looked less than the most beautiful girl that had ever walked the planet.

“For you, my lady,” I told her, handing her the cup before sitting down next to her on the bench.

“Thank—thank you,” she said gratefully, immediately taking a sip, only to jerk back in surprise. “How did you know?”

I bit down on my lip, fighting the stupid grin that would give me away. The rush that came from making her happy was better than winning any championship game. “You had it written on your cup the other day,” I said, shrugging like it was no big deal, and I hadn’t taken a photo of her cup in her hand so I could make sure to remember it always. I also was obviously not going to tell her that I had gotten that exact drink every day, just in case she looked like she needed it. Peppermint mocha with extra whip and a shot of espresso was, in fact, not my favorite drink.

She stared at me, the exhaustion in her gaze replaced with something that made my pulse start to raise. “Thank you,” she said again, softer this time, like the words were for more than just the coffee.

I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of the heat climbing my neck. “Listen, I’m not going to be able to talk to you in class today. The Professor has a stupid rule I’m working to get rid of,” I said, glancing toward the building, where Professor Hendrick’s no-nonsense face loomed in my mind. “But just so you know, I’ll be thinking about you the entire time.”

Her eyes widened, and she glanced down, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Don’t talk like that,” she said, but there was a hint of something in her voice, a waver that told me I’d hit the mark.

I shrugged, not bothering to hide my smirk. “Can’t help it,” I said, meeting her silver eyes straight on. “I’m obsessed.”

She snorted, and I grinned. She thought I was joking…

“How about we have a sign?” I told her.

“A sign?” she asked hesitantly, taking another long draw from her cup.

“Yeah. Every time I’m thinking of you, I’ll turn my hat backward,” I said, gesturing to the Tigers ball cap I was currently wearing forward facing.

She looked amused. “I mean that could work, except you could forget, and then I would get confused about whether you were thinking about me or not.”

I nodded, pretending to think about it seriously. “That works for me,” I told her, backing away since I needed to get to class a few minutes before the students started to arrive.

She gaped at me as I walked away, and I winked before finally turning to watch where I was going.

I did sneak one more glance at her, though—because how could I not—and her eyes weredefinitelytrained on my ass.

“Like what you see?” I called out over my shoulder, laughing as she jerked her gaze away, pretending to look at the grass beneath her feet as her blush deepened, and she gave a little scoff.

“That’s okay, keep looking, baby, just know I do the same thing every time too,” I told her, watching, entranced, as the faintest smile played on her lips.

Casey took another sip of her coffee, and I knew I’d gotten one step closer to my goal…

Winning her heart.

In class, I leaned back in my chair, watching as the students filed in. The room was loud with the usual chatter as students settled in their seats, flipping open notebooks and pulling out laptops. My attention was glued on the door, though, waiting. When Casey walked in, still clutching the coffee I’d given her, my pulse immediately picked up in anticipation, a thrum that made the corners of my mouth tilt up.

I stared as she settled into her seat, opting for one in the back toward the side this time. She finally glanced my way, trying tobe discreet, but the way her eyes softened and her cheeks flushed gave her away. I didn’t waste a second and reached up, making a show of turning my hat backward with a slow, deliberate movement, eyes locked on hers the entire time. Her mouth dropped, and I grinned, winking before I quickly dragged my gaze away, realizing that I was not being nearly discreet enough. I planned on handling the issues Professor Hendrick was going to have with Casey and me, but that was another step in my plan—not something I wanted to deal with today.

Professor Hendrick started talking, her voice droning on about the intricacies of Roman governance or some other details that may have been interesting to me the first time I’d heard them, but were definitely not interesting to me now. Every time Casey’s gaze drifted back toward me, I caught her, a smile playing on my lips as I tapped my hat, a silent message: I haven’t forgotten.

She shifted in her seat, biting her lip and casting her eyes down, the pink in her cheeks spreading. I loved how easily she blushed, there was no way for her to hide how she was feeling from me. It also made the long, boring class feel like a game, with me trying to see how many times I could make that pretty flush appear. Every time I caught her staring, I would tap my hat, and every time, she acted like it was the most shocking thing she’d ever seen.

I wasn’t surprised when she fled the moment Professor Hendrick ended class. I let her go, knowing she had another class to get to, and besides…I had plans of my own.

“Something wrong with your hat?” Professor Hendrick commented as I gathered up my stuff to leave.

“Pardon?” I asked, pretending to be thoroughly confused by her question. The woman was as observant as a cat.

“I’ve just never seen you so distracted by a ball cap before, Mr. Davis.”

“Having a bad hair day,” I told her, flashing her a charming grin as she peered at me over the spectacles she was wearing today, like some kind of witch trying to see my brain.

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