Page 79 of The Game Plan

Sam shoves her phone into her pocket. “O’Rourke.”

“Hey, baby,” I tell her with forced lightness in my voice. “I didn’t realize it was already two o’clock. You ready?”

Her smile is tight as her eyes dart between us. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all.” His voice is silky smooth. He has what other people might describe as a charming smile plastered on his face. To me it just looks sleazy.

She grimaces and turns to me. “You ready to go?”

Shoving my books into my bag, I throw all of my things together. She offers her hand, and I take it, threading our fingers together.

She leans in, and I meet her halfway for a chaste kiss. She melts into me, deepening the kiss. She doesn’t care that we’re in public, that we’re in the middle of the library. She doesn’t care that O’Rourke is watching.

“I missed you,” she says, leaning into me.

I can’t shake off O’Rourke’s eyes on us. “Missed you, too,” I mumble, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. I nudge her forward, and we make our way through the library.

She waits until we’re out of the building before she turns to me.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

“Just O’Rourke being O’Rourke.”

Her eyes narrow. “Really? Because it sounded to me like he was bullying you. He was trying to threaten you.”

There’s a lump in my throat the size of Rhode Island. “It’s fine. I’m handling it.”

“It doesn’t seem like you are. It seems like you’re avoiding it.”

How does she see through me so easily?

“I got him,” she says.

“Got what?” My heart is in my throat.

“I filmed it, him threatening you. We can use that in the hearing tomorrow.”

What we? There is no we. There’s just me, alone, facing down the giant threat of being kicked off the football team for something I don’t regret in the slightest.

“Delete it,” I tell her.

Her forehead wrinkles. “But it will help you win.”

“I don’t care about winning. I just want football back.”

“And winning is what gets you football again,” she says slowly. “He’s targeting you. He’s threatening you.”

“I’m not scared of him.”

Even if maybe I should be.

O’Rourke may be a mean-spirited bully, but I’m not a victim. I won’t let him relegate me to some weak peon. I’m not a favorable choice in this fight. I’m taller than him and outweigh him by a considerable amount. Nobody will believe it. They’re going to take one look at me and presume that I’m the one wreaking havoc and threatening people left, right, and center.

“He has a thing for me,” Sam blurts, and my world crashes to a stop. I turn to face her. “Josh Sinclair told me the other day. That’s why he’s ramping up his attacks on you. He’s trying to get to me.”

“Do you…” I clear my throat. “Are you interested in—”

“No,” she says immediately, reaching for my hand. “No, no, not at all. He’s an asshole. Just because he has a thing for me doesn’t mean I want anything to do with him.”

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