Page 75 of Faking It with the Forward

She runs her fingers through her hair and groans. “I want to be pissed at the two of you for sneaking around, but I get it. Your job is important to you. And he stuck up for you last night with Ethan, so I have to give him credit for that.” She grins. “Although kicking his ass would’ve been epic.”

“Trust me, he wanted to.”

Her smile wavers. “How is it that you end up with the hotshot athlete that you didn’t even want and I’m stuck as a late night booty call?”

“Hey, I tried to get you to seriously consider Reid, but somehow you ended up with Brent Reynolds instead.”

“I know.” She twists the rings on her finger. “I have a problem.”

“Well, when you’re ready to do something about it, I’m here for you.” I check the time and see that we’re going to have to rush to get to class. “Please don’t tell anyone about me and Reese. Coach Green can’t know—no one can know. Not the players or anyone else. I’ll lose my internship for sure.”

“I won’t,” she says, wrapping her arm around and pulling me in for a hug. “I won’t tell anyone that you got railed by Reese Cain last night.” She winks. “Twice.”

“So enough about me,” I say, ready to change the subject. “What’s the deal with Brent? Is that still going on?”

I’ve been working on not being so judgmental, especially when it comes to Nadia. I still worry about her though. Chasing jerseys never seems to work, but as long as she’s having fun, who am I to question?

“Here and there, but it’s football season, you know they’re busy.” She knocks her elbow into mine. “Kind of like Reese. Who would’ve thought we’d both be banging star athletes?”

What’s going on with me and Reese feels like more than banging, but I don’t say that. Reese also told me that he ran into Brent, and apparently, he and Shanna are seeing each other now. I expected Nadia to bring it up, but she hasn’t.

So yeah, Brent is busy, but not enough to stop the booty calls or keep him from trying to lock in a budding socialite. “Anyone else caught your interest?”

“There are a few guys on the team that are fun. This one guy, CJ, is pretty cool. He’s injured and unable to play this season. Brent said he needed some cheering up.” She curls a lock of hair around her finger—something I know she does when she’s unsure. “I don’t mind.”

“Huh.”

She cuts her eyes at me. “What?”

“I’m not judging, I promise. It just seems weird he’s okay with you seeing other guys on the team.”

“He didn’t outright say it. I figured I’d test it out,” she admits. “See if maybe he’d get jealous.”

“Did he?”

“Not really, but like I said, he’s busy. He’s the quarterback and CJ is injured. They’re best friends and I don’t mind giving him a little attention while Brent’s busy.” She pauses outside the building, hair spiraled around her finger. “He’s kind of depressed. Worried that he’s not going to recover in time for the draft. He’s stressed out and if I can help, I will.”

Oh Nadia. This girlneverlearns. “Well, for the record, I think you can do better than a football player.”

“You got another hockey player lined up for me or something?”

“No, I’m out of the matchmaking game, but there are some nice guys. Like Reid, you guys have fun together even if you don’t hook up.”

“True,” she admits, “but a girl has needs, Twy, and not all of us have a Reese Cain sneaking in and out of our room.”

* * *

The following week is a blur. Classes are getting harder with more papers and tests rolling in. Practice is busy—the more games the guys play, the more injuries start to emerge. The final preseason game is in two days and then the team heads straight into the season. There’s no time for anything preventative to slip through the cracks and the pressure is building on both the team and trainers.

I’m grateful for the distraction. It was hard enough staying away from him before, but now that I know what it’s like to have his powerful body hovering over me, andinme, it’s impossible not to think about him all the time.

“This weekend we’re playing our final preseason game against our toughest competition, Mason U,” I overhear Coach Bryant say to the team in the locker room while they dress for practice. I’m crouched next to Pete, wrapping his ankle. “We managed a W for the first three games, but they sure as hell weren’t all pretty. If you pull that kind of sloppy play with Mason, they’ll wipe the floor with you and then come back during the season and swipe our spot in the championship.”

Bryant goes into the specifics of what he wants the team to achieve at practice. My neck prickles and I glance over my shoulder. Reese is watching me and just before he pulls his jersey on over his head, he winks, sending a warm heat spreading across my body. I turn away before anyone notices.

“How’s that?” I ask Pete, checking to make sure the tape is secure. “Too tight?”

“Honestly it could probably be tighter,” he says, wiggling his foot, or trying to. Increasingly, Pete is having me secure the tape on his ankle tighter and tighter, and I’m worried about his mobility.

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