Page 55 of Faking It with the Forward

Three weeks ago, I would have agreed with her, but now, I’m not so sure. She’s always been this weird chick hanging around the training office. Cool enough, but nothing special. Now I know otherwise. She’s smart, and yeah, still weird with her serial killer fascination and ridiculous insecurities, but she’s cute. No, she’s fucking gorgeous.

I may be reconsidering my type.

Green sighs, and in my mind, I can see him stroking that hideous mustache while thinking. “Fine. I believe you. It seemed far-fetched. You and Cain?” He scoffs, and I rankle at his disbelief at the idea of the two of us together. “I know that if Coach Bryant hears about this, he’ll tell me to replace you. I have no interest in doing that, so consider this your warning. I can’t have my female interns fraternizing with players—especially someone as high profile as Cain. He’s got one job this season and it’s to stay healthy and get us to the tournament, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I don’t miss the sound of relief in her voice. “I promise you that this will not come up again.”

“Good,” he says. “You’re going to be a good trainer, Twyler. You care about the players and team, but as a woman in a male-dominated sport, keeping boundaries is going to be imperative for the rest of your career.”

“Yes, sir,” she says again, “I understand.”

“Now start packing up the kit for the game. The bus will be here soon.”

I duck away before she exits in the hall, not wanting to surprise her. Shit. This is not what I wanted. She made it clear this arrangement couldn’t fuck with her internship and that’s exactly what it did. And not because of anything she did. But because I had to get territorial.

When I first saw Twyler sitting on her front step wearing my sweatshirt, it triggered an emotion in me that I didn’t expect. It took me back to her being in my bed, looking and feeling sexy as hell, and escalated it into something primal.Prideful.I liked seeing her marked with my name and number. I wanted everyone else to see it too, which is why, when she gave me two opportunities to get it back, I declined them both.

That selfish act just screwed up the thing that’s the most important to her, which makes me a fucking asshole.

Down the hall, I hear Coach Green head out the backdoor. Even though I know I shouldn’t, the need to check on Twyler takes over any rational logic and I go in search of her. A shadow moves under the storage room door. The fact that this is becoming our secret meeting place feels ironic in the fact we’ve done a shitty job hiding our arrangement from her boss.

I open it and step inside.

She doesn’t look happy to see me. In fact, she looks fucking crushed. Her eyes are rimmed in red, and I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“You can’t be here,” she says, focusing back on the medical kit she’s packing on the shelf. “I just got a lecture from Coach Green about fraternizing with the players.”

“I heard,” I admit. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Her hands tremor as she places items in the kit. “I’m freaking the fuck out, and you being in here isn’t helping.”

“I just wanted to check on you.”

“I can’t be seen with you, and you definitely can’t be seen with me—especially not secretly meeting up in a storage closet.”

“Twy, I’m sorry, we’ll figure something out,” I say, reaching for her. The instant my hand grazes her forearm she jerks away.

“There’s nothing to figure out. We can’t be around each other. Especially not during practice and games. If you need my assistance in a professional capacity, I’ll be there for you, but otherwise, please just leave me alone.” She swallows and there’s a pleading glint in those blue eyes. “This job is too important to me.”

“Okay,” I say, ignoring the crushing weight that I feel in my chest. Guilt? Regret? Whatever it is, it’s not helping either of us. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

She turns her back to me before I even get the door open, which I do slowly, checking to make sure no one sees me before I exit.

An hour later, I get on the bus and head to the back, taking a seat next to Reid. Upfront, Twyler sits behind the coaches, Jonathan taking the seat next to her on the aisle. Not once does she look back at me.

“Why do you look like you’re about to murder Jonathan?” he asks, fishing his headphones out of his backpack. “Afraid he’s hitting on TG?”

“Huh?” I blink, realizing my back is ramrod straight as I watch her over the seat in front of me. “No. Green got on her about fraternizing with the team. He saw a photo of us together at the volunteer event.” I run my hand through my hair. “She doesn’t want us interacting with one another, at all.”

“Oh shit, well, I guess it’s okay, right?” He leans back in his seat. “Shanna’s off your back. You don’t need her anymore, right?”

“Yeah.”

That’s the right answer, but it’s not how I feel. I do need her. That tightness in my chest spreads, and even though I know Jonathan isn’t competition, I don’t like him sitting next to Twyler. I want to be the one that sits next to her. That kisses her. And hell, more and more I think I want to be the one that fucks her too.

I exhale as the driver starts the bus and pulls out of the parking lot. The big vehicle rocks, but I know that’s not what has me completely shook.

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