Page 84 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
“About what?”
He looks at me, then to the box where the girls are sitting, then back to me. “Your smile.”
Okay, what the fuck is he talking about? “My smile?”
He nods and puts his hand on my shoulder as the game clock expires and the crowd roars to life once more. “That smile doesn’t happen for a guy who’s faking it. That’s not even the one you’d have if you knew cameras are around. No, that’s the smile of a guy who’s in love. And I know how you feel about that subject.”
I scoff at him. “I’m not in love. Believe me, nothing has changed. We’re just having fun.”
He just laughs as we jog onto the field to shake hands. “You keep telling yourself that.”
I’ve never showered so fast in my entire life.
Sure, it helped that I had to do a formal post-game press conference, and our media team likes us put together and not still in uniform. But even if I didn’t, I would’ve still broken the team record for fastest to leave the locker room.
Because I have plans. And they involve Ainsley. In my jersey. And that’s it.
“See you tomorrow,” I say to Wyatt as I grab my duffel bag. “Have fun tonight.”
“I’d say you, too, but I already have a feeling you’re going to.”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face if I tried. “Oh, I will.”
I wave goodbye to a few guys as I walk out of the locker room. I’m just about out when I hear my name.
“Good game, Kincaid. Too bad?—”
“Nope! Not fucking today Rockwell,” I say without even giving him a second glance. “Not fucking today.”
I push through the doors, leaving a likely pissed Rockwell behind me. I don’t give a shit. I don’t care about him or his empty words and taunts. That’s all they are—him trying to get inmy head because he’s scared shitless that he’s about to become second string. Or worse, traded. The rumors are starting to circulate, but that’s all they are. Rumors. I’m not going to let myself buy too much into them until I see it for myself.
But no matter what, at some point he’s going to be cleared, and I have to go under the assumption he’s still a member of the Fury. And if he is, I just have to keep showing the coaches what I’ve been doing since last season. I’m making plays. Being a good teammate. Arriving early and staying late. My production is top of the team through the first two games.
I know me contributing at all to a team is still something new, but I can safely say I’ve never felt like this before. And I have a feeling the woman I’m walking to, the one wearing my jersey with a smile on her face that could light up this whole stadium, is a big reason why.
“Hey you,” I say, dropping my duffel bag to properly hug her. “Come here.”
She takes a step toward me, letting me easily lift her off the ground as I hug her close. I want to kiss her—you know, for the bit and no other reason—but I’m not sure how sober Ainsley feels about PDA. Especially in front of fans, my teammates, and her sister.
“Oh, you two are just the best,” Quinn says as I put her down. “You’re my favorite of Ainsley’s boyfriends.”
“You’re just saying that because you sat in a suite today,” Ainsley teases.
“Possibly. I also really hated Dr. Dweeb.”
“Oh, I like that one. I usually call him Dipshit,” I say as I give Quinn a quick hug. “Rolls off the tongue.”
“Oh, I like that too,” Quinn says. “Also, I need to thank you. Two touchdowns? My fantasy team, My TDs are Real, appreciates it.”
I choke on my own spit. “That’s your fantasy name?”
“Of course it is. And of course they are. I love a good double entendre.”
“Quinn...” Ainsley groans, but I just laugh and kiss her temple. “Please, Quinn…I beg of you…”
I don’t know what Ainsley was going to say, or what Quinn’s likely hilarious comeback would’ve been, because we can’t help but hear someone coughing. Loudly. Like they just swallowed twenty bugs in a dramatic fashion.
“Katie?”
