Page 8 of Hidden Plays
I pulled a chair from the table and sat across from him, glancing out the window at the ever-present traffic along the boulevard and students strolling between classes. After setting my backpack on the floor, I sighed. I’d been wracking my brain to figure out how to start this conversation and?—
“What have the last four years been like for you?” He bit into his burger, and juice dribbled down his chin. Swiping it with his tongue, he picked up his drink.
My gaze chased the trail of his tongue, the line of wetness following it. He did shit to men with that tongue. What the hell? Stay on track here. “Uh, fine. I obviously never went to Penn State.” A familiar ache wormed through my chest. This wasn’t how I wanted to start the conversation. Talking about the injury that destroyed my life might give him an edge.
“That sucks. Was it because of the injury?” He pulled fries out of his bag and squirted ketchup over them.
“Yeah. The docs tried to fix everything, but in the end, it just didn’t heal right.” I winced. How could I change the subject? “Anyway, we need to get along.” What a stupid thing to say. I was no good at this.
“We can get along on the field and in the gym. It seems we faked it pretty well back in high school.” He flashed a glare atme and swiped a fry through the ketchup. “Even though it was clear as hell you held back passes to me.”
“No, I didn’t. You were hardly ever open.” I bit into my burger, the salty juice filling my mouth. Damn, I hadn’t eaten here in a while. I’d forgotten how good it was. A soft moan floated from my throat.
JJ’s jaw dropped, and he stared at me. Shaking his head, he adjusted his shorts. “I was open, and the plays called for a pass. Still, you handed it off to our fucking running back.”
“I was being careful. You know it’s up to the QB to change the play when it’s called for.” I stared at my burger. “Besides, he was a sure bet when we only needed a few yards.” I hated defending myself. I knew my shit.
“You cost me the MVP.” His gaze bore into me. “You didn’t pass to me, so my stats suffered, and then what the hell did you tell the other guys? You excluded me from your little clique.”
“I didn’t tell them anything.” I breathed in deeply. There was so much to unpack. I should be truthful with him. “You were such a cocky bastard, waving your football prowess around like you were the only guy on the team that mattered. It alienated a lot of guys.”
“Including you?” He locked his hard gaze on mine.
“Yeah, including me.” I stood my ground, fixated on him. “Maybe giving the other guys the ball was better for the team.” Shit. My pulse picked up speed.
As a sly grin played over his mouth, he said, “So you admit it. You gave away my passes even when I was open.”
Fuck. I fell for that one. “No, only when it was the right thing to do.” I didn’t purposely fuck with him…did I? How did he have me questioning myself?
With a snicker, he shook his head and then took a bite of his burger. “Why the fuck should I trust you with my college career when you tried to sabotage it in high school? Do you think I’m stupid?” He drank his drink through a straw.
“JJ, we’re both different people now. I don’t want to sabotage you. I only want to do my job and make sure you’re playing in peak performance.” He had a point, though. Would I trust him, given the same situation? Probably not. I pulled my fries out and ate a few.
His eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”
“Prove what? That I have good intentions?” I raised my brows. Whatever was about to come from his mouth, I wouldn’t like. I braced myself.
“Yes. Prove you’re not homophobic, for one.” His smirk widened. “Go to the gay bar with me as my boyfriend.” He snorted. “I hate those fucking places, but it might be tolerable if the guys there think I’m taken.”
“Fuck no. How does that prove anything?” He was out of his mind. I set my half-eaten burger down and stared at him. Shit, he wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He’d attract considerable attention in a place like that. But what did I care? Not my problem. “I’m not homophobic anyway, and I’d prefer you quit accusing me of it.”
He leaned in, focusing on my lips. “Then tell me what really happened in high school. Your crowd didn’t want to be seen with the homo football player, right?”
My gut twisted. “N-no.” But it was true, wasn’t it? No one ever said it, but…“Some guys were uncomfortable with it, okay? But not me.” Furrowing my brows, I studied him. Was he hurt?
His gaze fell to his burger, resting on the bag, and his grin waned. His hands fisted and opened on the table. In a soft voice, he said, “I knew it.”
My heart ached for him. There was so much I didn’t know about him. Shit, Coach was right about this. How could I train him properly without knowing what made him tick? “Look, nobody wanted to hurt you. In fact, no one said anything derogatory about you. You were just different. And it made?—”
“Them uncomfortable. I get it.” He lifted his gaze to mine. “Because you think all gay guys want is to get in your fuckingpants.” He sneered. “I got news for you. I don’t want in your pants. You’re not my type.”
“I’m not, huh?” Deep inside, something stung. What the hell was this feeling? Did I want him to be attracted to me? Why, ego? It must be. My share of gay men had hit on me at the gym. I always felt flattered, never bothered. Having him reject me didn’t feel good.
“So, back to my challenge. My friends all give me shit about never going to the gay bar. I don’t like it because I dislike men groping and grinding on me all night.” He tensed his lips. “Go there with me and prove you’re not homophobic.”
“And what, keep the guys off you?” Like a fucking bodyguard? I stared at him, his high cheekbones and floppy dark hair. He had the most striking blue eyes. Almost mesmerizing. Yeah, I could see why he’d be a hot commodity in a gay bar. Though I’d never been to one.
“Yes, keep the guys off me.” He ate more of his fries. “I’ll tell my buddies I have a date and take a few pics in there for Insta and then we can leave.”
