Not My Romeo (The Game Changers #1)(70)

“Stings! Oh my God!” She inhales a sharp breath and clenches the side of the chair. “Jack, Jack, talk to me; tell me something good or funny or something, please!”

I huff out a laugh. “I love Justin Bieber’s music. Listen to it when I run.” I give her a fake hard look. “You are sworn to secrecy. If Devon knew, he’d never let me forget it.”

She gives me a wide-eyed look. “No way.”

“Yes way. ‘Love Yourself’ is my favorite.”

“Sing it.”

I hum the first few lines.

“Don’t stop,” she murmurs, eyes on my face.

“Kinda hard to concentrate and work on your knees.”

“Pretty pleeeeaasse.”

I scoff but start the song again, singing the words, getting all the way to the chorus. I feel my own blush rising. I can’t sing worth shit.

I look up at her. “How you feeling?”

She’s watching me intently. She licks her lips. Swallows. “You know any Taylor Swift? I mean, if you like the Biebs . . .”

I laugh. “Right. That’s me, football player who digs pop music. Sorry, don’t know all the words to hers.”

She arches a brow. “How about Meghan Trainor’s ‘All about That Bass’? That’s my theme song, and if you sing it, maybe I’ll leave you the pie.”

“Hmm. Your theme song should be something by Lizzo, maybe ‘Good as Hell.’ I see you like that—a hair toss, checking your nails, and walking your fine ass out the door.”

“But if you know Meghan Trainor . . .” She winks. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Another blush. “Pie, I mean. Food.”

“Hmm. How about one of those make-out kisses?” I keep my head down, carefully tearing open one of the wide Band-Aids so she can’t see my face. I want her. And it’s not going away like I need it to.

“Okay, it’s a deal—because I don’t think you know it.”

“Mmm, ‘All about That Bass.’ Let’s see, I seem to recall that song . . .”

“You don’t know it!”

“Oh, Elena, I so know it, every fucking word.” My eyes find hers.

“Sing it.” She bites her lip, anticipation evident by the gleam in her eyes.

I burst out laughing, putting the last Band-Aid on her knee. “Again, our secret.”

“Right.”

I don’t know who I am when I stand up, grab the remote to use as a microphone, and belt out the song. I stumble over the words a little, making up words that fit, but the song is mostly the chorus, and I give it all I’ve got.

“Can you dance a little? Do one of those body rolls?”

I roll my chest. I’m not a terrible dancer, yet she’s crying/laughing, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Damn, girl. You make me do crazy shit.”

“If football doesn’t work out, I’m sure you can sing backup for some pop star.”

I plop down on the couch. “I sing all that shit in my head on the field when I’m pissed off and need to calm down. When I’m nervous too. That first practice for Romeo and Juliet, I was humming ‘Dark Horse’ by Katy Perry under my breath.”

“Shut up.”

“True story.” I spread my hands. “I’m basically a teenage girl.”

She shakes her head at me, her eyes shining.

I pat the seat next to me. “Come on. Let’s watch my K-drama. There’s a new episode this week, and I haven’t seen it.”

“Thank you for fixing my injury,” she murmurs as she stands.

I jump and take her hand and help her as she walks over to me, my baggy navy shorts swishing. She’s rolled them under a few times, and they hit around her upper knees.

I click on the remote, my arm going around her shoulders and pulling her against me. She doesn’t protest, sighing as she leans into me.

“So what’s up with Lee and Dan-i? Have they kissed yet?”

“No. Dammit. I mean, what’s wrong with them?”

“Guess they still have things to work through?”

I watch the characters on the show. Lee is running after Dan-i after he saw her on a date with another guy. “He has trouble talking about his feelings. He’s holding back.”

“Why?”

“He’s never been this crazy about a girl, I guess. Doesn’t know how to handle it.”

Her head fits snugly on my shoulder. “Hmm. What about her?”

“She likes him, but she’s scared. Past issues. Terrible boyfriend from before.”

“Silly people. Why don’t they just talk?”

“Right.”

We get quiet, and I inhale, feeling like . . . like maybe we aren’t discussing Lee and Dan-i anymore, but us.

“Elena?”

“Hmm.”

I glance down at her. She wears a blank expression, fighting drowsiness. “You know that feeling of déjà vu? Where it seems as if something is familiar and has happened before?”

Her eyes close, flutter open, then shut again.

I smile. “Sleepy?”

“Tired. Hard week with Romeo. He drives me crazy at rehearsals. Always looking at me and . . .” Her voice trails off. “Yeah, I get déjà vu. We’ve watched this show before; maybe that’s it?”