Page 3 of Power Play

“Does that line ever work?” she asks, fixing her gaze on me, a smile still curving her lips.

“Never used it before. So you tell me. Did it work?”

She taps her index finger on her mouth, thinking. “No. But at least I know you’re as hilarious as everyone says.”

I shift closer, noticing how her breath hitches. “What else do people say?”

“So many things, Clay. You’d be surprised by the rumors I’ve heard about you.”

Rumors about me? Oh, I’ve heard plenty. Not all are outright lies, but some are too much. A jokester. A clown. A fuckboy. That’s what they call me. I swallow the sudden bitterness filling my mouth and shrug. “Do you believe everything you hear?”

“Of course not. The fact that I know things about you doesn’t mean I actually believe them. I want to see for myself before I jump to any conclusions.” She smiles and tips her head. A lock of hair falls out of her ponytail, and she tucks it behind her ear. Her words make me breathe freely, and the unexpected hold on my throat loosens up.

“How about we make it even then, if you know so much about me? What’s your name?”

She opens her mouth, but the ringing of her phone stops her. She pulls it from her purse, stares at the screen, then rolls her eyes. Her tongue clicks as she slips her phone back in her bag.

“Sorry, I gotta go. See you tonight?” The specks of green in her brown eyes mesmerize me.

“Definitely.” I nod. Admitting defeat is easier because I know nothing is lost yet. I’ll have a chance to shoot my shot at tonight’s party.

“Great. See you later, Clay.” The girl turns around and takes a few steps toward the door, then pauses and glances over her shoulder. “And I’m Layla.”

A smile that has no business being so big spreads across my lips—even my cheeks hurt. She is the highlight of my day no matter how it’s going to end. I watch her walk out the door, and only when she’s gone do I go back to the table.

We have a rule on the team—never go for a girl if a teammate already has their eyes set on her. It’s taboo since no one wants the atmosphere in the locker room to be poisoned with envy andjealousy. I don’t want that either, so if the guy who invited her to the party is serious about her, I’ll back off.

A hookup isn’t worth ruining our team spirit.

Sittingon the couch at our teammate’s house, I try reasoning with Colton. His desire to go back to the dorm is giving me a headache. The party started an hour ago. He’s such a pain in my ass, it’s annoying.

“Why don’t you want to stay?” I scratch my brow with my nail.

“Because I’m bored,” he states. His deep brown eyes focus on me, and I want to fucking punch him, just to get a rise out of him. I swear, sometimes it feels as if I’m the only one who keeps this friendship going. I know he cares about me, but some days it’s hard.

Colton sighs. “It’s the second party in a row, Clay. I’m done. I met everyone, I said hi, and I want to go back to my room.”

“But—”

“I know you want to meet that girl from the coffee shop, so if you want to stay, stay.”

The girl from the coffee shop…I almost forgot. Almost. Because there’s no other reason for me to check out everyone who walks into the house. It’s like my eyes don’t even belong to me, like they’re living their own life, looking for her.

I open my mouth to reply, but a booming voice coming from the door stops me. Turning in my seat, I watch Drake Benson, the captain of our college team, heading in our direction. A big, open smile plays on his lips. “Rodgers. Thompson. Exactly the duo I wanted to see.”

Drake is big and tall, with broad shoulders and a six-foot-five frame. His eyes glimmer joyfully as he approaches us.

“What’s up, Benson?” I ask.

“I want to introduce someone to you,” he says with laughter in his voice. He stops, and then a girl steps out from behind him and comes forward to stand by his side.

My jaw unhinges. No fucking way! The girl from the coffee shop is with my captain?

Fuck my life.

“I’m not sure if you remember her, but this is Layla.” Benson drapes an arm over her shoulders. I coast my gaze over her face, her red lips, her hair cascading down her shoulders, her body. I check out her flowery pink dress with a miniskirt. Legs like hers should be fucking illegal because they’re all I want to stare at. She’s immaculate. And I want to— “She’s my little sister, and it’s her first year here at Great Lake University. So be nice to her and keep your hands to?—”

“Drake!” Layla gasps, swatting her brother’s hand off her shoulder.

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