Page 15 of Catch
I don’t believe my own words, but I’m good at faking it. In fact, given how shitty my sex life has been, faking it is becoming all too common for me.
“Glad to see the loss hasn’t dimmed your ego.”
“It’ll take a lot more than losing a soccer game or losing my hair,” I reply and grin at my friend. “I think we deserve a rematch. What do you say?”
Dane shakes his head.
“I think I’m done with soccer.”
“Fair enough.”
We line up and shake hands with the Crew. When it’s my turn to congratulate Jett, I take his hand in a grip that’s a little too forceful. Not that he seems to mind since he’s doing the same to me. We stand there for what seems like an eternity, neither one of us letting go, staring off in a ridiculous stalemate.
“Good game,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
I’m choking on my words. Admitting defeat is like sucking down cheap alcohol; no matter how you drink it, it always burns.
“You’re not going to renege, are you?” Jett asks, his green eyes full of amusement.
He gives me a wicked grin and it sparks something fierce inside me.
“Fuck no,” I hiss. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
I don’t wimp out on bets, and I never go back on my word. Not now, not ever.
“So, why wait? How about we meet up at your frat house in say, two hours?” Jett continues. “We can do the whole team at once.”
“Like an orgy?”
“Hilarious.” Jett pauses and looks down at our joined grip. “Can I have my hand back?”
Finally, I relent and let go of him. My hand tingles. Not only my hand, my entire arm. Maybe I’m having some kind of heart issue, because my head is pounding and my chest is tight. I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin at any moment.
“Let’s do this again. But next time, another sport. Volleyball? Lacrosse?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on, Sugar,” I tease. “I know you want to kick my ass again.”
“Tempting, but no.”
He moves to step away, and I fight the urge to stop him. Clearly I need a drinkanda lie down.
“Are you heading back to the dorm?” I ask.
Jett pauses and turns back to face me.
“Yeah, why?”
“I mean, given how Renner acted earlier?—”
“He was running his mouth,” Jett interrupts. “It’s fine.”
It’s none of my business anyway. Why should I care about his relationship drama? No thanks.
“Right. Of course. See you at the house.”
Instead of looking away, I watch as Jett and his teammates head off the field.
