Page 30 of Wildcat
I meet her gaze from across the room and she looks away. She stands beside Morris as he denotes his choices on the forms she’s shuttling around for us to fill out. Scarlett brings her thumb to her lips staring anywhere but at me. If she’s trying to appear cool and collected, she’s failing.
A chuckle escapes. I can’t help it. Damn. I’ve never met anyone like her. It’s cliché to say, I know, but it’s just a fact.
It isn’t like girls are throwing themselves in front of me at every turn, but I’ve never had one try so hard to avoid me either.
I look back to Ash and take in his lifted brows and concerned gaze.
“Dude, she’s Coach’s daughter.”
“I know.” Fuck, he’s right. “I know.”
“Be careful. All I’m saying.”
When she makes her way to me and Ash, I pass him the form first and focus on Scarlett. “How’s your day going?”
“Good. Thanks.”
Ash chuckles next to me. “Oh boy. This is going to be a disaster.”
I elbow him and lean forward to block him out of the conversation.
“Did you get some food?” I tip my head to the spread up front.
“That’s for the players.”
“Do you want me to grab you a plate? The chicken wraps are delicious.”
“I’m good. Once I get done here, I’m going to lunch.”
She refuses to look at me, but it’s fine. I’m too happy that she’s working here to be annoyed about how she keeps insisting our night together “was nothing” and treating me like the worst one-night stand in the history of casual sex. Maybe it should sting, her ability to so easily dismiss me, but it doesn’t for one simple fact: I know she’s bluffing. If she truly felt nothing, she wouldn’t need to put up a front.
Maybe it’s because of her dad or because she’s working here, maybe it’s because of the prick in London that broke her heart, maybe she really is pissed I didn’t call sooner—but if it’s the latter, then that just sort of proves my point.
Ash nudges me with the clipboard. I scan the questions on the form, then tip my head up to look at her. “This is all you need from me?”
“Yeah. I think Anna got everything else before she left. Dad promised I wouldn’t need to interact with the players much. Thank goodness.” She looks at Ash. “No offense.”
“Lots taken. We’re awesome.”
I tap the pen on the clipboard. “So after this, you won’t have any reason to speak to me?”
“That is the hope,” she says, voice climbing to a playful sing-song.
I skim over the form again. It’s basic information we provide every year. I hand it back without filling it out. “I need to check a few things first.”
She balks. I bite back a smile at the look on her face—the one that says she knows exactly what I’m doing.”
“I’ll come back to you,” she says in a sugary-sweet tone that hardens when she adds,“Figure it out.”
“If you’re trying to make her like you, you might try making her life easier instead of harder,” Ash says out of one side of his mouth.
She’s back a few minutes later, but doesn’t jab the clipboard toward me like I’m expecting.
“I ran out of forms,” she says. “Can you stop by the office later?”
“Oooh. I’m not sure.” I look at Ash. “Do I have time for that?”
“He’s a pretty busy guy,” Ash says. “But I think he can squeeze you in around three after strength training.”
