Page 66 of Game On

“That’s excellent, Mrs. Dale. Thank you. I know the team will appreciate it.”

My mom’s cheeks pink. Even I look at Ryan Linc like an alien has just taken over his body. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him be that polite before. Ever. “If you guys would set up our extra folding tables in the sunroom, that would be great.”

“We’re on it,” I tell her. Ryan follows me into the garage. We have enough for three cars, yet I hardly park in here and my dad hasn’t parked here in a long time. My mother’s car is the only one that hasn’t moved much. On the opposite side of the garage, I pull out two folding tables my mom always brings out for parties.

Ryan and I both grab one. He’s working on how to get his best grip when he looks up at me, his voice and face hard. “Why is your mom being so nice?”

His voice is so laced in anger it sounds like he’s mad at my mom for accepting him. Maybe he’s not used to it, I don’t know, but it makes my heart clench. “What’s happening isn’t your fault. In fact, when I told her what happened, she said she felt bad for you. She’s not working some angle, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not everyone does that.”

He looks away, jaw working. “You’re nice, too,” he says, swallowing hard. “How can you even stand to be in the same room with me? I humiliated you several times. I beat up your boyfriend. I—”

“Chase isn’t my boyfriend.”

“You know what I mean,” he snaps. “Why?”

That question is hard to answer. I push hair away from my face and breathe out. “I honestly don’t know. If you want, I’ll try to hate you.”

I turn away, table in tow. His voice is low, but I hear him say, “I don’t know what I want.”

We’ve just set the tables up when Ryan’s phone goes off. He answers it, then rattles off directions to my house. When he puts it down, he tells me that one of the guys needed directions.

He really is like the basketball team’s ringleader. They’re the kings of RHS, and that’s true that they all are, but Ryan is the ultimate. It makes sense based on his point guard position. He’s also the captain and a natural-born leader. It must be a lot to take so much on himself. Though, when he’s not in charge, that’s when he gets antsy, frustrated, and acts without thinking.

“Stop studying me.”

I turn away. I hadn’t realized I had been.

After a beat, Ryan takes a step closer to me. We’re not even touching, but my body feels his presence. Warning signals fire off, but there’s a lot more to it than that. He lifts his hand and gently brushes against my shoulder. “Do you remember when you and I were in the stairwell at school?” I don’t bother nodding. He knows I wouldn’t forget. “I wonder,” he muses. “If you would still respond to me like that.”

My heart jumps in my chest, then it constricts. I can hear my mother humming in the kitchen. I even think I can hear laughter coming from outside like people are starting to arrive, but all I can focus on is Ryan being so close to me. “Yes,” I say, breathless.

He stops his movements. I caught him off guard. I don’t think he expected me to say anything or even admit that I would.

The doorbell rings. The tension breaks immediately. I glance at him then push around him to run toward the front of the house, yelling to my mom that I got it. When I open the door, the rest of the Ballers are there, and the food delivery is just pulling up. That’s a relief.

Alec gives me a smile, Sloan touches my chin, Hayes just barely looks at me, and Lake, well, typical Lake just walks in like he owns the place. Ryan is there to greet them at the end of the foyer. “Mom, pizza’s here,” I yell back.

Mom comes around from the kitchen, nearly startling herself when she sees the other Ballers. She gives a short laugh, welcoming them, and then gets to the door just as the pizza guy walks up. He hands off the pizzas to me three at a time as I then turn and hand them off first to Alec and then to Hayes. Mom stays and settles the bill while I take the last two pizzas and lead the other guys into the sunroom. We put the pizzas down on the tables Ryan and I set up, and then I quickly point out the pool and the basketball court to the guys telling them where they can get towels, extra shorts, and basketballs from if they want to do that.

Sloan drags a hand down my back before he settles his touch just above my ass. “I, for one, can’t wait to see what you look like in a bikini.”

My body heats. I hadn’t thought about having to wear a suit in front of all these guys.

“It’s hot,” Alec says. The rest of the guys glare at him. Lake for a far different reason than the others, so Alec just laughs. “My sister’s upset, by the way. She doesn’t understand why she can’t come to the pool party.”

I smile at him. “Tell your sister I’ll have her over sometime.”

The doorbell rings again. I move to get it, but Ryan says, “Why don’t you help your mom, and the guys and I will get the door?”

I look up at him. “Oh, okay.”

“And get dressed,” Sloan says, his hot breath on my ear.

Nerves tighten my belly. While Ryan gets the door, the rest of them walk back out into the main room, but I go to the kitchen where my mom is getting out paper plates and cups from the pantry. There’s about a dozen liters of soda on the counter, so I help take them to the table. After that, my mother says she has everything taken care of. Most of the team is there now, even my dad, so I head to my room to change.

When I get there, I sit at the edge of my bed, blowing out a breath. This morning when I sat here, I hoped it would end this way. I had no idea I’d have the entire team in my house, but I hoped I’d have a spot on the team. The party is a little much, but not unwelcome. I’m sure my dad wants them to accept me as part of their team, and this is a way to get them to do so. It was actually pretty smart.

The door opens. I look up, expecting my mother, but Lake walks in instead. His cocky smirk is on full throttle as he lets himself peruse my room, shutting the door behind him with a resounding thud. His presence makes me think about the time he held me down with his brother, but I try not to let it show that he’s bothering me. “What do you want, O’Brien?”

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