Playing Hard to Get(50)

“Fake it till you make it?” I finally ask.

He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Yeah. I do that a lot.”

“In all aspects of your life?”

“Not really. Definitely not with my friends or with football. My family.” He smiles faintly. “I like my family.”

“Your sister is really nice. She came over to our place Sunday night.”

“She did?” Knox angles himself toward me. “How did you guys meet anyway? At the bar that night?”

“She was sitting next to us at the game.”

“Oh, that’s right. You had tickets in the same section.”

“She’s very friendly. I like her.” I hope he doesn’t think I’m talking to her because she’s his sister.

“I’m glad you’re becoming friends with her. I know she was worried about finding friends here.” He smiles faintly. “Thank you for that.”

“I’m glad we’re becoming friends too,” I admit.

He stares off into the distance, the breeze ruffling his hair and causing it to fall across his forehead. I’m filled with the sudden urge to push it out of his eyes, but he does it before I can even make the attempt. “My mom would probably love you.”

Okay, this is a conversation we don’t need to have. I’m never going home to meet Mama Maguire, so it’s pointless. “You have another sister, right?”

I already know the answer. Blair confessed all, but I need to change the subject.

“Yeah, Ruby. She’s the youngest. She’s a freshman in college, and from what I hear, she’s tearing it up. Partying all the time.”

That’s exactly what Blair said.

“Kind of like you?”

“I’m partying less these days,” he says. “Trying to focus on football more. The last couple of seasons, we’ve been cleaning up our act. When you’re tired and hungover all the time, you don’t play as good.”

“That makes sense.” I nod, taking another sip of my vanilla latte, which is delicious. I noticed how he hasn’t really drunk much of his coffee, which makes me think he doesn’t like it. “You have practice today?”

He nods. “Every day except Sunday.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Pretty sure you’re just as busy.” He smiles at me.

I smile at him in return.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks, his voice deceptively casual.

“Um…nothing. I have class at three-thirty. Then I’ll head home.”

“Want to get together?”

I’m gaping at him, surprised he wants to spend more time with me. “Like a date?”

“If you want to call it that, okay.” He shrugs.

“I thought you were celibate.”

“I can hang out with you and not fuck you, Jo Jo.” His smile is slow.

Naughty.

“I don’t know about that.” My tone is sarcastic.

My observation accurate.

He chuckles. “Okay, you’ve got me there. I just don’t have plans tonight, and I definitely don’t want to go to a bar or anything like that. So I wondered if you wanted to get together. We can do something casual at your place. Just hang out or whatever.”

Sounds like a booty call. Like a Netflix and chill moment. Hanging out in my room, his hands wandering until they slip under my shirt or into my pants.

I’m tempted, but is this a good idea? Or am I setting myself up to get burned?

“Okay,” I say.

Knox appears shocked. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Come over around eight?”

“You have your roommate, right? Natalie?” When I nod, he continues, “Is she still seeing Derek?”

“I have no idea if anything is going on with her and Derek.” I don’t think they’ve spoken since Saturday night.

“Well, make sure his ass doesn’t show up when I’m over there because then my cover is blown and I’ll owe him a thousand dollars.” Knox unfolds his large frame from the bench and heads over to a nearby trash can, tossing his mostly full coffee cup in it. “You have class in twenty minutes?”

I check my phone to see that he’s right.

“I need to go. I have practice in twenty minutes too.” He holds his hand up in a semi-wave. “Text me your address?”

“But I don’t have your number.”

He frowns, heading back toward the bench where I’m still sitting. “Shit. Give me your phone.”

I hand it to him and he adds his name and number to my contacts before he sends himself a text from me. “Now you’ve got my number, and I’ve got yours.”

“Thanks.” I take my phone from him, glancing down at the screen, smiling at the name he gave himself.

Your favorite student.

I don’t know if I needed the reminder that what we’re doing is probably unethical, but it’s still kind of cute.

“If you don’t mind, maybe you shouldn’t tell Natalie I’m coming over,” he suggests. “I don’t want it to get out to Derek if she’s still talking to him. And she might slip up, if she knows I’m there.”

What this guy is asking for is impossible. I don’t particularly like how he’s treating this situation either. Like we’re sneaking around and seeing each other on the side.