Page 54 of Make the Play

“I am.”

Jake eyes narrow suspiciously. “ZoeCarlson. Charlie’s ride-or-die, will-smite-you-with-a-glare Zoe.ThatZoe?”

“Yeah.”

Logan whistles low. “Bold strategy, Walton.”

“Shehatesyou,” Jake says.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She called you a walking hormone last week,” Reid reminds me.

“Affectionately.”

Eli crosses his arms and studies me as if he’s watching game footage he intends to break down later. “Why would she do this to herself?”

I flash him a grin. “I’m very charming.”

They’re all still staring, trying to find the lie on my face. I give them a practiced smirk, the kind I save for reporters and cameras, and hope it’s enough to sell it. But under the surface, my pulse is doing ridiculous shit for every half-truth I’m about to tell.

Zoe and I agreed on this. If anyone asked, we’d say it started at the wedding. That it just happened. Technically not a lie, but somehow that makes it worse.

“Wait, when did this happen?” Logan asks, squinting at me.

“Eli’s wedding,” I say smoothly. “It kind of… just clicked into place.”

Another beat of silence, and then Jake reacts. He throws his hands up and spins on his skates. “Holyshit. That’s why you were both late for brunch.”

I keep the smile on, let the lie settle over me. “We were at the bar, talking. One thing led to another…”

It sounds almost easy when I say it like that, but it wasn’t. The way she looked at me when I touched her like I couldn’t stop, the way I didn’t want to. It wasn’t supposed to matter. But fuck, I remember every second.

“You’re serious,” Logan says, disbelief still coloring his voice. “Like you guys… hooked up?”

“We talked,” I say. “We danced.”

“And then?” Jake asks, suspicion sharpening his voice.

I smile slowly. “We vibed.”

Ryan groans, and Reid rolls his eyes.

Eli’s still staring at me, trying to decide if I’ve finally lost it. “She’s not your type.”

“She is now.”

Logan frowns. “Was it a moment? Or like… a slow burn?”

I almost laugh. It was definitely a moment, alright.

Zoe, looking like every bad decision I’ve ever made, standing at the bar in that goddamn perfect satin dress with the ribbons. Giving me hell before I could even say hi. Making my brain melt every time she laughed, or when she agreed to dance with me. Or when she randomly kissed me in that photo booth like she could do it without it meaning a damn thing.

And then later.

Her, against the wall of my hotel room. Me, between her thighs. Us, tangled in the sheets, unable to separate right after we came because we were so fucking gone.

The way she looked at me, the way I just knew.

---