Page 7 of Relationship Goals

He grunts, the only sign he’s heard me.

I should apologize, but I don’t. Instead, I watch his backside as he leads the way. Muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, and my eyes widen in appreciation.

Creeper McCreeperson, that’s me.

“What are you looking at?” he asks, glancing back at me again.

“Just trying to catch up.” My voice comes out a little hoarse. “Are you always this rude?”

“Yes,” he says, one thick eyebrow raised. “I don’t give a shit what you think, or anyone else. I’m here to play soccer, not be a fucking tour guide.”

“At least you’re equal opportunity about the lack of shits you have to give.” I laugh in spite of myself. “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t hire you to do both. You’re such acharmingtour guide.” He’s too easy to bait. It shouldn’t be so much fun to do so.

He stops in his tracks and turns, bearing down on me, all intimidating size and cold blue eyes.

I bat my eyelashes at him, unable to resist poking at the so-called Wolf of LA soccer. If he can say whatever he wants to me, then I’ll say whatever I want right back.

Kind of refreshing, actually.

“I see why they call you the Wolf,” I manage. “Do you like being the villain, too? You must know they call you that. ‘The bad boy of soccer.’ ” I do air quotes.

He barks a laugh, and it surprises us both, the sound echoing off the narrow walls.

“You really do always say what you think, huh?”

“I’m a little infamous for that, actually.” I grimace, unable to hide it.

“I don’t like being the villain,” he finally answers, raising one strong eyebrow.

God, his face is really interesting, different and appealing and manly.

“I don’t trust people. Neither should you. Especially not those motherfuckers.” He jerks his chin toward the way we just came.

“Who?” Confusion wrinkles my brow.

“The owners. Pugilisi and Treadwick.”

“Oh.” Huh. “Thanks for the advice,” I say, nodding like I’m considering it. I’m not. Refusing to trust anyone? That sounds lonely as hell.

As for the owners…It just affirms my own vibes about them.

The Wolf squints at me as if my response has surprised him. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“That you don’t trust people or that you’re telling me not to? Should it?” I honestly don’t understand this guy. Is he trying to upset me?

My nose crinkles, and I stare into those light blue eyes, at a loss.

“I think most people are fucking assholes,” Luke says, and it’s my turn to laugh.

“You know,youhave a bit of a reputation for saying whatever you’re thinking, too.”

“Nah. I usually don’t say much at all.” He turns back around, and I have to do an impression of an Olympic speed walker just to keep up. Damn it, this tight skirt was a real choice.

“Well, I heard a rumoryousaid enough that they threatened you with suspension from the league,” I say too sweetly.

This time when he stops, it’s not just intimidating, it’s menacing. Angry.

I grin at him.

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