Game On(9)

Taking a deep breath, I put on my “I’m charming and so, so sorry for whatever I might have done, can I please make it up to you” smile, squared my shoulders, and headed towards my leading story.





Chapter Four


I was halfway across the field when the girl Nathan was talking to looked up and noticed me. She raised a hand in a wave and I saw that she had a camera looped around her neck. A photographer? I knew the Register hadn’t planned on doing any candid shots—they wanted to do a more formal photo shoot after the article had been approved—was she from another paper? Obviously they knew each other.

I waved back just as Nathan glanced over his shoulder. His smile faded. I kept mine firmly fastened even though my stomach dropped a little. Great. He was still upset. I gritted my teeth, smiled even wider and hoped I didn’t look like a sweaty, disgusting mess. As I got closer, I added a swing, but just a little, to my hips and powerwalked my own shapely ass over to him, prepared to apologize and ease his anxiety a little. For a moment, I thought about whistling the theme from “The Bodyguard,” but I had a feeling he wouldn’t think it was funny this morning, so I just gritted my teeth and smiled as I walked up to them.

But before I could say anything, he jerked his head towards the girl.

“This is Mandy,” he said. “She’ll be showing you around.”

Mandy was cute—curly blonde hair and freckles, wearing a flowery sundress that somehow looked charming instead of childlike on her petite frame. It was the way she held herself—she might have been little, but there was no doubt in my mind that Mandy was fierce. I made a mental note to befriend her, rather than upset her.

I reached out my hand, keeping my smile open and happy. I wasn’t going to reward Nathan’s brush-off with any kind of response. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. I’m—”

“Sophie Hall.” Mandy gave me a smile of her own. “Nathan has told me about you.”

“Great things, I’m sure,” I said, careful to hide my sarcasm in the cheery tone.

Because the stormy look on his face and the apprehensive one on hers told me that I probably didn’t want to know exactly what he had told her. I was close enough now that I could smell the same wonderful scent that he had been wearing last night. It didn’t have that chemical smell that aftershave usually did—was it possible Nathan just smelled that good all the time? I realized I was smelling him again and that my smile had gone slack.

I wasn’t the only one. Nathan was looking down at me, a slightly dumbstruck look on his face. The stormy look was gone and his attention was focused on my mouth, which I had always been told was one of my better features. Full and naturally red. Lush, an ex-boyfriend had called it. I remembered how he had looked at my mouth last night. How I had licked my lips and he had groaned. And even though I knew I shouldn’t, I slowly, carefully, bit my lip. I couldn’t help it.

His eyes went hot, just as they had done last night. And my knees went weak, just as they had done last night. I thought about kissing him, and I could tell from his expression that he was thinking the same.

Last night it had been the dress and my uninterested attitude. What was his excuse now? Today he knew the truth, knew who I was. I was standing in front of him, heart racing and mouthwatering, with the evidence of my drunken night written all over my puffy face, and he still was looking at me like he wanted to rip off all my clothes. And I was thinking I would be more than happy to let him.

Finally Mandy cleared her throat and we broke eye contact. I felt my face go red when I realized I had basically eye-f*cked this guy in front of a near stranger, but Mandy didn’t look embarrassed, just amused. I liked her. Nathan, on the other hand, was now staunchly refusing to look at me.

“I’ll see you after practice,” he said to Mandy, those beautiful green eyes focused downward, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that when we’ll get a chance to talk?” I asked, trying my smile again. But he didn’t look up, instead pulling his cap down low and turning away. He stalked back across the field towards the rest of the players and I watched him go, enjoying the view.

“Don’t take it personally,” Mandy said. “He just doesn’t like journalists.”

“So I’ve heard,” I said, climbing into the bleachers and settling into the seat next to her. Glancing around, I noticed there were several people sprinkled throughout the stands, all watching the practice. Most of them were young women. I couldn’t blame them. Who in their right mind would say no to a show like this? Cute guys in tight pants? For free? God bless America, I thought. We totally picked the right pastime.

I looked over at Mandy and lowered my voice. Especially since a few of the girls were already looking in my direction and exchanging whispers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been present at the bar last night. No doubt they wouldn’t think too fondly of someone who had turned down their beloved star pitcher. And I couldn’t blame them.

“Would it help if I said I’m not a very good journalist?”

“Would that be the truth?” Mandy asked, raising an eyebrow. I liked her even more. Most of the girls that had hung around Nick had been idiots, or chosen to act that way. Smart girls were my cup of tea, and Mandy looked like she was better than your average smart girl. A cup of tea spiked with something good. Like tequila.