Page 17 of The Fantasy League
“But I like that you show up on time every day. And that you’ve never once complained—to my face at least. I wish I would’ve told you that sooner.“
My breath hitched.
I never knew that he noticed those things about me. Well, aside from the complaining. More often than not, I was complaining about him in my head; I just tried not to let the words slip from my mouth whenever he was around.
“Th-Thank you.” I gulped, trying to rationalize the words that came out of his mouth.
“I’ve gotta go to practice, but take your time with making your decision, got it? I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced into this.” Abel grabbed his keys from the island and rattled them in his hand.
“I don’t feel like I’m being forced. It’s just… it’s a lot to think about.”
And it was.
I was one of the few straight women in the country that refused to drop my panties at his beck and call, so why did it have to be me?
“I know.” He let out a rugged sigh. “And if you decide to say no, I won’t question you about it. I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”
“Okay.” I twisted the ring on my middle finger behind my back. “I’ll give you an answer on Friday.”
I stood in his kitchen, baffled, as I heard the engine of his SUV roar to life from the driveway. Slumping down into a barstool, I placed my elbows on the counter and dropped my head into my hands.
I still wasn’t quite convinced that I hadn’t accidentally slipped him drugs. Abel was never nice to me. He wasn’t ever blatantly mean, but he definitely wasn’t nice either. And now he was being nice to me twice in one day?
Something wasn’t adding up with him.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I also wasn’t going to dig around for something and stop his nice streak either.
Oh well, time would tell.
SIX
ABEL
“Abbott,you made any progress on finding a girlfriend yet?” Coach tipped his head, motioning for me to join as the rest of the guys headed toward the locker room.
Even in the off-season when workouts weren’t required by league officials, Coach made sure players knew practices were mandatory for anyone who stayed in town during the off-season.
My sweat-covered T-shirt clung tightly against my torso which made me want to avoid this conversation more than usual. All I wanted was to feel the hot water from the shower scalding my back. Not have a fucking conversation about my girlfriend problems with Coach Sterling.
“Tons,” I deadpanned. “Last I checked, I had four hundred private messages from girls begging to take the title of ‘Abel Abbott’s girlfriend’ after I announced I was in the market on my Socialgram story yesterday.” My lips fought a smile as the lie spilled from my mouth.
Practice was off for the next two days and if Coach was going to be pissed at me for playing around, so be it. By the time we came back on Monday, he wouldn’t remember this conversation or the punishment drills he planned to give me anyway.
Coach placed a hand on his hip and narrowed his eyes at me begrudgingly. “You better be busting my nut, kid.”
“Fuck, Coach. Please don’t use that phrase again.” I cringed.
He lifted up a brow, clearly not understanding what “busting a nut” meant, which almost made it worse. I tried not to think about how many people he’d unknowingly used that phrase on before me, which made another cringe ripple through my body.
I made a mental note to tell Lea about that one before Coach decided to slip that phrase into one of our press conferences. What a fucking headline that would be.
“Why?” he started to ask before cutting himself off with a shake of his head. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this. Seriously, you made any progress with chef girl?”
“Her name is Scarlett,” I corrected him. “And yeah, I’ve made some progress.”
“What do you mean… some?” he questioned with knotted brows that made the crow’s-feet around his eyes more prominent.
“I asked her to, uhh… be my girlfriend,” I bit out, not giving him the whole truth.
