Page 47 of Tempting the Player
Hendrick
Meet me in front of the library.
He’s sitting on a bench off to the side with his backpack on the ground in front of him and his cell in his hands. He doesn’t look up as I take a seat beside him.
I glance down at his phone to see some sports news on the screen. “So that’s what you do all day?”
“Sometimes.” He locks the screen and puts it in his pocket. Today he’s wearing another sweatshirt, a faded Valley U football one with a tear along the cuff at his wrist. He looks so messy and so not like anything I’ve seen him wear when he isn’t pretending to be a college student. I cock a brow at it, and he grins. “Today I did have to borrow some of Archer’s clothes.”
His arm comes up around the bench behind me and he fingers the end of my hair where the blonde has been dyed green. It’s faded and needs a touch-up. I haven’t felt like messing with it, and kind of wish I’d just left it blond if I’m honest. One less thing linking me to my past life—the one that keeps messing with my current one.
His voice drops lower. “If I keep staring at my phone to read your texts all day, I might not see something I should.”
I feel a bit like a kid being scolded by the principal until his fingers at my hair brush higher, sweeping along my neck and then to the side of my face. His light touch catches me by surprise, and I tense remembering how good it felt to have his hands other places.
His rough fingers stroke my face once more and then he pushes something into my ear. It startles me at first until he points with his free hand to the small device in his right ear. “This way we can talk while I keep my eyes off my phone.”
Of course, I should have known his touch was all business. Regardless, I can’t help but smile. It’s such a practical thing but the idea of this intimate connection to him makes me really excited. I reach up and touch it. It’s small and fits snugly in my ear. “What if I have to pee?”
His fingers drop to my shoulder. “Press the side once to turn it on and off. If yours is off, I can’t hear you, but you can still hear me if mine is on.”
“I feel very CIA, very covert.”
He chuckles. “You’re about as discreet as a neon sign.”
Don’t I know it. I let my hand fall down onto my lap. “Now what?”
“Now, you go to class.” Hendrick stands and picks up his backpack. “Have a good day.”
I wait until he’s a few feet away and test out my new earpiece. “Can you hear me?”
“Yep,” he replies as I watch him disappear into a crowd of students.
After I press the button, I ask, “What about now?” I press it again. “And now?”
“Still here. The range is good, so you don’t need to worry about me losing you. I won’t be that far away.”
“I’m not worried,” I say honestly as I get up and walk in the direction of my first class. “This is fun. Will you sing me a song or read me a book?”
“I’m not your personal Spotify.”
“Okay, fine. Then answer some questions for me.”
I take his silence as approval.
“What’s your favorite song?”
“I don’t have one.”
“What? Everyone has a favorite song.”
“I don’t.”
I walk into my French class and take a seat. “Favorite movie?”
The guy that sits in front of me turns around. “What’s that?”
“Sorry,” I say and smile. “Just talking to myself.”
