Page 12 of Sneaking Around with the Player
I love football, but I have no idea if I have what it takes to play professionally or if that’s even what I want. I know I can’t imagine listening to him critique every game I play for the rest of my life. He rides my ass harder than my coaches. He’s already sent a text with bullet points from dinner. You know, in case I didn’t hear him the first time.
“Ricci! You made it.” Aaron lifts his chin in acknowledgement as I walk into the living room where several of my teammates are sitting around, beers in hand. A group of girls are huddled up on the couch, whispering and giggling.
“Hey.” I lift a hand and let my gaze roam around the room in a hello to everyone.
“Heads up,” someone yells, and a beer is tossed in my direction.
I catch it in one hand and take a seat in a wooden chair that’s been moved from the dining room for extra seating. “Thanks.”
The guys are playing video games, so I crack open the cold beer and lean back to watch. As soon as the cold liquid trickles down my throat, I feel the tension from dinner start to fade.After dealing with my dad, I need to tackle someone on the football field or numb my senses a bit.
Jenny, a girl I made out with one drunken night after a game, stands from where she was sitting on the couch with her friends and comes toward me.
“Hey, Beau. I texted you. Is your phone still broken?”
Aaron coughs and nearly spits out his beer.
“Sorry,” he tries to get himself under control. “Wrong pipe.”
“I’ve been busy,” I tell her. Not untrue, but could I have found time to hit her back? Considering how many texts I’ve exchanged with Stella in the past few days, I think the answer to that is definitely yes.
She rolls her eyes, laughs, and plops in my lap before I realize what she’s doing. “How do you feel about beer pong?”
“I feel great about it.” I lift her off me and then stand. I grab another beer from the kitchen for later and jog down the stairs after her.
We join some buddies just starting a new game. My muscles relax as I concentrate on sinking the ball into the other team’s cups. The music is a nice distraction too, so loud it’s hard to carry a conversation.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I groan, assuming it’s my dad texting with another critique or fifteen but am pleasantly surprised when I see the message is from someone I want to talk to.
Stella: Guess what?!
One side of my mouth quirks up.
Me: You won the lottery?
Stella: I wish, but no.
Me: Aced a test?
Stella: Even better than that.
Me: Took a five-hour nap, woke up and had a cheeseburger.
Me: No, TWO cheeseburgers.
Stella: Well, now I’m hungry, but no.
Me: I’m out of guesses. What amazing thing happened to you?
Me: Wait. You met a guy?
A hint of jealousy pulses through me in beat with the music.
Stella: No. I was named athlete of the month at Valley U! I got a fancy plaque with my name on it and everything.
She sends along a picture of herself holding up the plaque. Damn. She’s even more gorgeous than I remember.
“Do you want to come with me and some friends to Sigma?” Jenny makes her way in front of me and looks up at me with big, blue eyes.
