Page 53 of Foul & Fake
And I bet the sex after will be even better.
Grinning, I nudge Josh. “You like it when they fight, don’t you?”
“It’s my favorite,” he says a little too excitedly. “They don’t fight enough in this sport if you ask me, but they sure do whine enough.”
Juliana laughs as yet another player dives onto the ground and begs for a penalty the referee doesn’t give. “There’s no way he risks getting removed from the last game, but he might instigate enough to get someone else thrown out. He’s a little too good at getting under people’s skin.”
Yeah, you could say that. I’m supposed to turn that stupid article in tomorrow, and I’m so twisted up about it I couldn’t keep my breakfast down. He’s under my skin alright, and I hate it. “I wonder where he learned it.”
His sister’s gaze turns toward me, almost as if she’s trying to read my thoughts and see through the mask I’m trying to wear. “How have you two been?”
The other team scores before I get roped into responding, and when that same player bumps into Eli with a cocky grin, I see how hard it is for him to hold himself back. The cords in his arms are visible from here as he clenches his fists, and whatever he says in response has the guy rounding on him in anger, but he jogs off to get into position with an expression that says he thinks he won.
He always thinks he won.
“We’re great,” I say quickly, then realize we’re supposed to break up in a couple of weeks. Maybe it isn’t the worst thing to start sowing the seeds now. “Well… good. We’re good.”
She frowns, but to my surprise she doesn’t push the issue any further. Instead she reaches out to squeeze my hand in solidarity with her gaze on the field like it didn’t happen at all, and I take the out. I’ve lied so much lately I think I’m starting to get pretty good at it, but that doesn’t mean I like it.
Instead, I focus on the way Elias moves. The grace, the coordination… he’s impressive.
Whoever has the ball consistently tries to avoid wherever he is, because getting past him is harder than finding another route, and when someone does try to take him on he seems to always manage to kick the ball out from under them.
This time he clears it halfway down the field, his gaze swiveling to meet mine like he’s proud of himself, and when he blows me a kiss I feel multiple people’s eyes turn toward me curiously.
Yeah, I’m curious too, friends. Specifically about why butterflies suddenly spawned in my chest.
Yikes. This isn’t the time for this.
I cheer a little louder than everyone else and then sink down, hoping no one sees the blush in my cheeks.
It’s hard to keep myself from looking at the girl next to me when I know she’s staring, and even harder to ignore Josh’s stupid laugh, but I manage to keep track of the game as the Vipers drive down the field and finally score in response.
Thank god.
Wait, when did I start caring about this? Took the whole season, I guess, but here I am. I’m on my feet with the rest of the fans screaming my frozen little head off, and when the first half comes to an end, the whole stadium is on edge right alongside me.
To pass the time we take a short walk near the field and talk about school and current political issues that only piss us all off, but when the teams jog back out we let all the bullshit go and allow ourselves to get excited again.
As we make our way back, I spot Eli walking over with his dimples on display, bringing that blush right back to my cheeks as I once again forget how fake this truly is. I really need to stop forgetting.
Josh gently pushes me toward the fence before I can pretend I don’t see him, and I feel a hundred pairs of eyes on my back as I meet him there.
“Hey, cupcake. Having fun?”
“I’m just impressed you guys haven’t frozen solid down there,” I laugh nervously. “You’re doing really well.”
“Thank you. Well enough that you want to kiss me? You look like you really want to kiss me.”
Do I? Fuck it.
“Maybe.” I barely have time to smirk before he’s gripping his jersey in his fist and tugging me impossibly closer, his lips crashing to mine as though we’re the only ones around, but the whistles and cheers that erupt behind me remind us that we are not.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care who is watching or the fact that I said I hate PDA. I did hate it, but for some strange reason I don’t hate it right now. Not when it’s his tongue dancing with mine.
Even after the kiss ends, he keeps his lips a mere inch from mine as he flashes me those infuriating dimples. “Knew it.” His thumb slides along my cheek as he places one more kiss on my forehead, but it’s the whispered, “mi cielo” that truly takes my breath away.
He’s gone before I even find it in me to blink, and I stand there like an idiot until Josh screams my name and snaps me out of it.
