Page 47 of Game On

He raises his eyebrows.

Shawn cuts in. “I’m down with track training. Tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll text you guys.”

Ryan’s voice calls out. “Let’s head in.” We’re all wearing a variation of blue and gold, our school colors. Sloan holds back on my shoulder, so everyone walks in front of us. “Don’t get too close to the recruits, Dale.”

“What do you mean?”

His hot breath hits my ear. “I mean, the Ballers are kind of possessive.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m training with them, not fucking them.”

Sloan leans into me, his lips barely caressing my cheek as he says, “I do enjoy that mouth of yours.”

A tingle of excitement winds its way up my spine.

His hand moves up the outer seam of my jeans, stopping just shy of my ass. “I also love that you’re dressed like any of us, but you’re still way hotter than the girls who flounce around in their tiny RHS skirts.” He nods toward the girl who’s been hanging around Ryan lately. Her skirt is so short, you can practically see her underwear. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it several times. It’s funny how the same girls come around over and over again, and it seems like the minute one of the Ballers brings one in, she makes the rounds with all of them.

Well, except Hayes. Hayes is still ice cold. He’s currently walking up the bleachers, head down, hands shoved in his pockets. If he weren’t so light on his feet, he’d probably look cumbersome or awkward. He’s not. He’s like a beautiful giant. I wonder how he kisses. Actually, it would be cute to see him bend over and a girl have to raise to her tiptoes just so their lips can meet.

“Hayes is a good guy,” Sloan says, following my gaze.

I tear my eyes away from him as we start our ascent up the bleachers. “I like him,” I say honestly. “Maybe because he doesn’t talk nearly as much as the rest of you.”

“Ouch, Daddy’s girl.”

I roll my eyes at the nickname he’s been calling me. I can’t directly tell him it’s not true because it is. I got a text from Dad just that morning telling me he’ll see me over the weekend. Hopefully, we can get some playing time in together like old times.

When everyone else has taken their spot in the stands, Sloan grabs my hand. Suddenly, my heart is in my throat. I’m worried this will be like the football game all over again where I’m forced to sit next to them, but not actually be a part of them, like the true outcast they always try to make me feel like.

“Sit with me,” Sloan says. He pulls me over until he slides in next to Hayes. I go to sit next to him, but at the last second, he pulls me onto his lap. I yelp a little, startled. “You like that?” he asks, his hazel eyes shining.

I try to get up, but he’s got a lock on my hips. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Sitting you right where I want you.”

“Please,” I say, letting him know I think he’s full of it. A few days ago, they didn’t even want me near them.

“Come on,” Sloan says, his lips pressing into my ear. “You don’t want to be left out again, do you?”

My body goes rigid. I try to get up, but he keeps holding me down. Ryan and Lake are staring at us now. Their girls are, too. Lake, though, look like he’s holding back a laugh. The joke’s on me. I knew it was.

But then Sloan pulls me in tight. “Truth for truth. Ask me if I want you on my lap.”

The girls all start laughing now. I don’t even want to look up at Matt and Shawn to see what they’re thinking. “You’re messing with me. Stop it.”

“Ask me.”

“You’re mental, you know that?”

“God damnit, Tessa. Ask me if I want you on my lap.”

I lock eyes with him. Below us, the baseball players have just run out onto the field, calling everyone’s attention away for the moment. His eyes are pleading with mine, so I ask, “Do you want me on your lap?”

He closes his eyes for a second, takes a deep breath, then nods. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you here.” His hands loosen, allowing me the freedom to move if I want to. Then, his right hand travels down my thigh and up again, stopping just in the center to give me a quick squeeze. “Truth.”

I lick my lips. Even if this is a joke, I’m going to enjoy it. Sloan’s hands settle around me as I turn toward the field. We have a good view of the first base line from here. Beyond all that, though, and however stupidly this might be, I actually feel like I’m one of them. That’s the thing about emotions though, you can’t make yourself stop feeling them even though you know how dumb it is.

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