Page 21 of Sidelined By Love

Zoe is here. At exactly 1:59 p.m. Just like I said she should be.

But that was last week. Before yesterday’s game. We won. By a field goal. And I got sacked three times and hit countless more.

I can feel every single one of them today.

And I don’t know if I have the patience for the beaming starlet on my porch.

I can already tell that she doesn’t care about my mood.

“Ready?” Eyes bright and smile wide, she clasps her hands in front of her, swaying back and forth. I’m not sure if she planned it or not, but her purple leggings and gray shirt would have fit in perfectly with the Fourteeners fans yesterday.

Letting out a breath between tight lips, I nod. “Guess so.”

Her squinting survey is getting awfully close to seeing things I’d rather not share, so I spin and lead the way through the house.

“The team with the ball has four tries to move it ten yards,” I mumble, stretching my arm across my body and trying to loosen the stiffness in my throwing shoulder.

“Give me more credit than that.” She laughs. “I don’t watch my dad’s team, but I did grow up around the game.”

Closing one eye, I look over my shoulder. “Then what do you need me for?”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

I stop walking, and she immediately bumps into my back, shooting sparks through me. From the contact or her words, I don’t know. “You’re just now thinking about it? After you stalked and cajoled and basically bribed me?”

“First of all, I did not bribe you—personally.” She stalks past me. “Secondly, I knowhowthe game is played. I just don’t know how toplaythe game.”

“That makes no sense.” I shake my head and cross my arms.

“Yes, it does.”

The stubborn tilt of her head suggests that I may have stepped in it. But after yesterday, I’m not interested in backing down. “It absolutely does not.”

She steps closer—forget personal bubbles—and that sweet coconut smell surrounds us both. “I know the rules and goal of the game. I know how points are scored. I know the mechanics of it. I can learn any of that on the internet. None of it will set me apart at an audition.”

“And what will?” I should not have asked that question.

She licks her smooth pink lips right before a smile breaks across her mouth. “Throwing a perfect fifty-yard spiral.”

“Nope.”

As I turn away from her, she grabs at my bicep, her slender fingers finding a fresh bruise. I try not to flinch, but chicken on a biscuit, I’m sore.

“What does that mean?”

“That means that it takes years to perfect a spiral of that length. It means thousands of hours in the gym. You don’t have time for that.”

The light in her face dims, her lips pursing to the side as her gaze narrows. “What do I have time for?”

“When’s your audition?”

Pink spreads across her cheeks as she nibbles on her lower lip. “We’re still working that out.”

“You do have an audition lined up though, right?” As soon as I ask, I know the truth.

“Like I said, we’re working on it.”

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I scratch at the stubble on my chin. Once. I’m doing this just once. I’ll give her some pointers and send her on her way.

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