Page 14 of Chosen Boy

She clears her throat, smiling at the room before looking down at her clipboard.

“So, this wasn’t exactly easy. But my assistant and I tried our best to match each player with a dancer we thought would complement him well.” She snorts. “Which, like I said, wasn’t easy. Because quite frankly, some of y’all are terrible.”

After she has another laugh, she begins rattling off names. I’m only halfway paying attention until I hear her say the names of the guys I’m closest with and who they are partnered with.

“Cade Huff, you’re going to be paired with Lindsey. Watson Gentry, you’ll be with Ryann.”

She says a few more, and I know we’re getting close to the end. Link’s already been chosen to work with Poppy.

Lucky him.That chick is bitchy.

Sutton’s name hasn’t been called yet, and I’m starting to fucking panic.

“Hunter Thompson,” she says, looking up at me, “you struggled. Terribly, to say the least. But lucky for you, I have a secret weapon to make you look better.” She swings her gaze across the room, and my heart sinks. “Sutton, work your magic on Thompson.” Tucking the clipboard under her arm and clapping her hands together, she looks at Coach. “Thanks for lending me your men, Coach. This is going to be one hell of a fundraiser.”

Coach sweeps his gaze to each of us. “Yep. I suppose it will.”

I slowly move my eyes to where Sutton stands, and her face is as red as a tomato. Her eyes drift off into space as she stares straight ahead. It’s bluntly obvious that she’s just as annoyed with this as I am.

But for some reason, that makes it suck less. Knowing I’m under her skin.

When she finally dares to give me a glance, I smirk, narrowing my eyes. Which only causes her to roll her eyes. She pretends to scratch her cheek with her middle finger before looking away again.

That’s right, Little Bird. You’re stuck with me.

“Take the next hour or two to get to know your partner.” She points her finger at us guys. “Don’t even think about getting to know my girlsthatwell. This needs to be about dancing and not sex.”

A bunch of people laugh or shift uncomfortably on their feet. Me? I just continue to stare at the side of Sutton’s head, infuriating her more. Because honestly, I’ve always thought she was kind of hot when she was pissed.

Which is a lot of the time.

Sutton

There’re twenty people in this room—not including Coach LaConte, Jolene, and the assistant dance coach, Chasity. The hockey team selected ten of their most popular players, and Jolene chose ten of Brooks’s best dancers.

And here we are, HunterfuckingThompson and me, forced to work together.

Walking outside, I lean against the brick building and blow out every ounce of breath from my lungs. Even though I know I don’t have a choice but to work with him, I’m hoping Hunter doesn’t find me.

I take a puff from my inhaler and stuff it into my pocket. Squeezing my eyes shut, I lean my head upward toward the sun.

I feel someone next to me, but I don’t even have to open my eyes to know it’s Hunter. After smelling his scent in the library and again today when he came up from behind me, I would know it anywhere. And annoyingly enough, it’s as delicious as he looks.

“Sutton Savage,” he coos. “Just out of curiosity, are you going to wear those sweatpants during our performance? If so, we might get docked some points for looking homeless.”

Popping my eyes open, I look at him. “Are you always this obnoxious? Also, I wouldn’t worry yourself with my apparel when we’re going to get docked points for the fact that—like Jolene said—you suck and can’t dance.”

“Oh, trust me, the judges will eat me up.” He winks. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. How it goes will depend on which one of the dozens of your personalities shows up at each practice.”

“When you’re around, I only have one personality.” I bat my lashes. “I call it bitchy, and it sometimes makes me want to do things like cut your nuts off and serve them to you for dinner.”

He yawns like he’s bored. “Are you done?”

“Hardly,” I scoff.

“Man, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it? Just. Like. Your. Mother,” he says through gritted teeth. “Your heartless, backstabbing bitch of a mother.”

Stepping around him, I walk away from him and toward the sidewalk. I know I can’t get around that he’s my partner. But I sure as hell don’t want to listen to his mouth right now.

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