Scoring Wilder(32)

"You can't abbreviate the operation to B.C. or I'll just think of Spartacus the whole time."

Becca cracked up and I chanced a glance toward Liam. He was standing off to the side, chatting with Tara and Coach Davis. He hadn't looked in my direction once that morning and I was getting tired of it. One glance from him and I would have forfeited the dumb “operation”, but I was sick of being ignored. Not to mention he looked even sexier than usual with his light grey t-shirt and workout shorts. His legs were toned and I wanted to throw myself at him every time my eyes lingered to where he was standing.

"Ugh, fine. Take your freaking top off," I whispered, tossing down my water bottle and reaching for the bottom of my shirt. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was hotter than usual. No one could blame me for wanting to rid myself of extra layers... right?

I laid my shirt on top of my soccer bag and straightened back up.

Becca giggled wildly and I hissed for her to be quiet. She'd ruin the plan for sure.

"He's watching you and scowling."

"Scowling?" I groaned. What was with him and scowling? It was his default expression whenever he was around me.

"Yeah, full on angry scowl. God, he's so hot. I'm not sure if this plan will work, but at least he's looking at you."

"Cute sports bra, Kinsley," Emily said, coming up to us. I hid my mouth behind my hand, trying to cover up my laugh with a cough.

"Thanks Emily," I finally mustered. Telling Emily about Operation B.C. was completely out of the question. She had a much better moral compass than Becca and I, and I'm sure she wouldn't have agreed with our logic.

Coach Davis blew her whistle, drawing our attention over to where she was standing with Liam and Tara. "Okay, girls! Let's line up on the sidelines and we'll form teams for a short scrimmage."

Liam was still scowling and now Tara was joining him. Oh good, I was pissing everyone off. Yippee.

We hurried to line up and I ended up at the end of the sideline with my hands on my hips, waiting for Coach Davis to call my name for a team.

"Do you really think that's appropriate?" Liam asked behind me, his volume soft enough that the sophomore standing beside me didn't hear.

His tone was veering toward * territory and his question pissed me off, so when I turned toward him, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you talking about? I workout in a sports bra all the time."

Liam scoffed. "There are paparazzi standing over there with their lenses trained on you and your lack of clothing.”

I rolled my eyes, not even glancing to where I knew the paparazzi were stationed. They were there every day and I’d mostly forgotten about them. After all, they were only there for Liam.

"No. They're trained on you. They wouldn't be here if you weren't here."

"It doesn't matter. Put your freaking shirt on, Kinsley."

Yes, he was technically my coach, but in that moment he was talking to me as Liam, not Coach Wilder, so I chose to test my limits.

"You know, I think I'll workout in my sports bra for the rest of the week." I stretched my arms over my head and even he couldn't help his eyes from drifting down to my chest for a fraction of a second. Ha! Wait, did I want to be this girl? Using my body to get his attention? It's not like I had a choice. The only way to get his attention at that point was to piss him off, so that's what I'd do. Very mature, I know.

"You're acting like a child," he hissed, his grey eyes flashing darker than usual.

I leaned in close and narrowed my eyes. "Funny. When you were on top of me on Saturday you didn't think I was a child."

"Kinsley!" Coach Davis called, and I realized she'd been trying to get my attention for the past few minutes. "Listen up! You're on Tara's team. Let's go."

I flashed Liam a sharp smirk before jogging to the center of the field to stand beside Tara, who was still scowling at me. Whatever. I glanced back toward Liam. His hands were clasped together behind his head and he looked like he was about to punch something. I guess that was a good sign?

…



"Are you kidding? That's a GREAT sign!" Becca cheered when we were alone in my room later.

"Remind me why I'm taking advice from you? You could be completely leading me astray."

Becca shook her head. "No, I assure you. I have yet to have a relationship in real life, but I've read lots of Cosmo and I used to take a ton of those quizzes about love."

"Wow... that's really reassuring. NOT."

Becca laughed then stated her case. "Listen, yesterday he didn't even talk to you. Today he sort of yelled at you— tomorrow, THE SKY IS THE LIMIT. You should really be thanking me right now."

She sat there staring at me as I moved around my room, picking up dirty clothes.

"What? What do you want?" I asked.

"A thank you," she said with a giant smile.

I laughed despite myself. "I'll thank you when he's waiting for me in my bed when I return home from practice."

Becca groaned. "Oh my god. I want tickets to that show."

"Ew. You're sick."

"Oh, please. You'd want tickets to that show, too."

She was right. I wanted front row seats.