Page 54 of Scoring the Player
Right now, everything about me is hard. Thankfully, this time, I stop the words before they leave my lips.
She starts to get up, but I curl an arm around her waist and shift, so she’s sitting on my leg while I set the bag on the other. There are three tacos inside, which makes me wonder how many she ordered in total.
“How was practice?” I ask, right before I take a bite out of the first one.
The guys have noticed my food and I have to kick several of them away when they try to steal one of my precious tacos.
“It was good. I shot thirty-six on nine holes.”
“That’s awesome.” I lift one hand in a fist, and she bumps her wrist against mine.
“Thanks. How was yours? Don’t you have a game coming up soon?”
“First one is next weekend,” I reply. “Are you coming to cheer me on?”
“Maybe. I have a tournament Friday and Saturday at Gold Canyon. What time is your game?”
“I couldn’t tell you, but it’s probably online.”
“It’sprobablyonline?” She arches a brow and digs out her phone. A few taps later, she says, “Eight o’clock. I should be back by then.”
“Sweet.” I lift up my wrist again, and she taps it with a laugh.
It’s easy to be with Dahlia. Even easier to flirt and play. Sometimes, like last night when I walked her home, I have to rein myself in and be careful about how far I take things so I don’t lead her on. And sometimes, like right now, I just want to say fuck it. I like chilling with her. Why does it have to be more complicated than that?
I crumple up the last taco wrapper and toss it in the bag, then sit back with a satisfied moan. “Thank you. Best second dinner I’ve ever had.”
I get another laugh out of her, but I can barely hear it over the guys screaming at the PlayStation.
“Wanna see my room so you can knock another thing off that list of yours?” I already told her what it looked like, but it’s hard to talk to her out here.
“Oh.” She sounds surprised by my offer. “Yeah.”
Stella looks over as we stand and start for my room. “Hey, no stealing her away. I need to talk to Dahlia.”
“You do?” Dahlia asks, a faint smile pulling at her lips.
“Yeah. Holly and I wanted to see if you and your friends wanted to sit with us at the game next weekend?” She holds up both hands. One pretends to block Holly from view and the other points in her direction. “This one is making us go super early, so we get the best seats.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Dahlia says, glancing at me like she isn’t sure if it was the right thing to say.
“All settled?” I ask my sister.
She aims a pleased smile back at me. “If I say no, are you going to let her hang out with us instead of dragging her to your room?”
“Drag?” I cock a brow. “As if.”
I take a couple steps away, and when Dahlia doesn’t follow, I lean forward, taking her arm and dragging her with me toward my room to the sound of laughter from my sisters and teammates. Fuckers.
I shut us inside and then shake my head at her. “Thanks a lot, fake girlfriend. They think I’ve got you in here against your will.”
Her soft giggles fade as her eyes leave mine to scan the room. “No one would ever look at the two of us and think that.”
I don’t like that assessment of us, but before I can find the right words to voice it, she’s walking up to the infamous poster of my face. It’s large and hangs on the wall above my desk. And since there isn’t much else to look at it in here, there’s really no missing it.
Her delicate fingers rest on the white wall next to the poster. She glances back over her shoulder at me. “It really is a great photo of you.”
“Thanks.” I plop down on my bed. Dahlia continues to walk around the room, taking in every detail like she’s analyzing it for hidden clues. She holds up an unopened bag of black licorice. “And I was just starting to like you. Black licorice, really?”
