Page 32 of Blindside Sinner

Normally, I’d be all for Colin’s assistance, especially with someone as stubborn as Sloan. He’s a mean asshole and if anyone can help shove her out of my world, it’ll be him.

But when I think of Sloan’s stomach under my palm this morning, her muscles quivering as she tried to decide whether or not to touch me back, I suddenlydespisethe idea of Colin going after her.

Sloan Reeves is mine. At least, until she quits.

He must see something in my face because Colin’s eyes widen and then he’s roaring with laughter. “Oh, isthathow it is?”

Motherfucker.“I won’t repeat myself, dickbrain,” I growl.

“Right, right. I’ll leave your pretty bird alone, Beck, have no fear. But I have to say… I’m even more interested in whatyou’regoing to do with her.”

Thankfully, Coach whistles for our attention before I have to think about just what exactly I’m doing with my new assistant.

“Listen up. We’ve got another away game next week, so I want you all on your best behavior. You know the drill: no getting into trouble while we’re gone.” Coach’s eyes are glued to me. I smother the urge to flip him off and give a respectful nod instead.

Then it hits me.

I know for a fact that Sloan’s coming with us to the away game. I read the travel requirements in her contract.

Which means our little war is about to have a brand new backdrop.

Game on, baby.

17

SLOAN

Beck and I are standing in front of two massive travel buses the day before our first away game.

“How does it feel to be living the high life?”

He’s mocking me, but there’s some truth to it. The coach buses are the fanciest I’ve ever seen, let alone been on. My life has mostly been a back-and-forth between barely making rent and digging up quarters from the couch to buy an ice cream cone every once in a while. It definitely has not involved luxury vehicles with people whose yearly salaries make my lifetime earnings look like a rounding error.

“That’s the bus for the team.” He points to the first one like I’m a moron who can’t see the players climbing on, then waves me toward the one at the back like an afterthought. “That’s the staff bus. Where you’ll be.”

Thank God. A Beck-free ride.

“Oh, no. However will I handle hours upon end without you?” I drawl, my tone as sarcastic and deadpan as possible.

Beck just grins like an asshole. “I knew you loved me.”

My brain rejects the idea of loving Beck so fiercely that it actually hurts. It’s just not fathomable that I’d fall for someone like him—someone so desperate to get his own way that he’ll ruin my life without losing a second of sleep.

“Yeah, that’s gonna be a hard pass.”

If I thought that would fix Beck’s unusually chipper mood, I was wrong.

He’s acting like I haven’t woken him up early with my blender alarm clock almost every day for the last two weeks. Like he didn’t stroke himself off in the shower under my gaze. Like we haven’t been in the middle of a heated war involving each of us wearing as little clothing as possible in the house.

It’s like none of that happened, and I don’t like it. Because that means he’s got something planned. I may not know him that well yet, but I know that a quiet, happy, smirking Beck is bad news.

Mostly for me.

He snatches my bag and hoists it onto his shoulder. “I’ll take this.”

I narrow my eyes, my mind screamingMayday, mayday!Anything nice he does is a trap. Anything kind is the setup to a downfall. Nope, I’m not dumb enough to fall for that.

“No thanks. I’ve got it.”

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