Shut Out(57)

He looked a little startled, and I worried that I’d been a tad too forward, but he just nodded and gestured toward the hallway that led out of the kitchen. I walked down the narrow hall ahead of him, checking out the pictures that had been hung on the walls. Photo upon photo of Cash and his family.

I stopped and smiled at a particular picture that stood out to me. A little boy, presumably Cash, was standing on a soccer field, clutching a black-and-white soccer ball in his small hands. He couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. On either side of him stood his parents: a pretty blond woman with her hand on her son’s head, pushing long brown bangs from his bright green eyes, and a stocky, kind-faced man with his hand on Cash’s shoulder, looking like the proudest father in the world.

“That was taken after my first game,” Cash said, standing next to me and staring at the picture. “It was a league that played out in Oak Hill. One of the best days of my life.”

“You won the first game?”

He laughed. “Oh, no. We lost pretty badly, but I didn’t care. I was just happy my coach had let me off the bench. I loved the game from the minute I stepped onto the field, even when I was that little…. You can put that in your interview if you want.”

“Yeah… my interview.” I looked at the picture, at little Cash’s big, goofy smile. It reminded me of the smile my dad wore whenever he talked about football, the way he remembered playing as a kid.

“Should we get started on that?” Cash asked, nodding toward the door to what I guessed was his bedroom. “I don’t want to get you home too late or anything.”

“Right,” I said. “Okay. Let’s get started.”

It was time to set to work on The Plan. It wouldn’t be hard, I told myself. All I needed was to get Cash to kiss me again. If I could get him to kiss me, I could make him want more. I could make him want everything, and then rip it away from him. I just had to make him kiss me.

Cash’s bedroom was cramped but, thankfully, neat. A small twin-size bed was shoved into the far right corner, and a chest of drawers stood on the opposite wall. There was a desk with a computer and printer on it. A sports calendar hung on the wall, but other than that, the room was pretty blank. Almost… lifeless.

“I know it isn’t much,” Cash said nervously, watching me look around. “We haven’t lived here long. After Dad got laid off, we had some money trouble and had to sell the house and move in here.”

“Why don’t you decorate?” I asked, dropping my purse onto the floor and sitting down on the bed. I crossed my legs, my heart pounding as I gave Cash a nice view of my upper thigh.

He shrugged and walked over to sit down beside me, his eyes barely turning toward my exposed skin. “I don’t see the point. I’ll be moving out for college in less than a year, and Dad will get another job. They’ll be able to buy another house. This is just temporary…. That’s what they keep saying, at least.” He sighed and looked away for a moment before letting his eyes meet mine again. “Honestly, I’m kind of afraid that if I settle in too much, Dad will think I’ve accepted this place as home. It’s like, by not making myself too comfortable here, I’m showing I believe he’ll find another job, you know?”

I nodded. I did know. I knew what it was like to smile and pretend to make a parent happy, to protect them. Cash was the kind of person who would do anything to keep his family going, even if it cost him. Just like Logan. Just like me.

No, no, no. I had to stop thinking about Cash in such a favorable way. I needed to keep reminding myself what an * he was. How he’d hurt me. Used me to help the boys win. I needed to remember so that my plan could work, so that I could use him right back and feel guiltless.

I edged a little closer to him, my bare knee brushing against his jeans. “What are your college plans?”

“Is this part of the interview?” he asked.

“No, I’m just curious.”

Cash nodded and rubbed his head, making the short strands stand up. It was getting longer every time I saw him. I wondered if he was going to keep it short. I hoped he’d let it grow out a little. I wanted to see how he’d look with long hair, like he’d had as a kid. I wanted to run my fingers through his soft, brown waves and—

“Well, that’s why I have to get a scholarship,” Cash explained, angling his body toward mine. “My parents can’t afford to send me, so I need to keep up my grades and get this soccer scholarship. Coach is worried that my missing practice twice a week for work is going to mess up my chances.”

“Do you think it will?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. I hope not. I’m trying really hard to keep up; I work my ass off at the other practices… but it isn’t like I’m going to quit my job at the library. My family comes first, and they need me right now, you know? Plus”—he smiled at me—“I like working there… with you.”

I loved the way he smiled at me then. Warm and sweet. It made me forget how he’d hurt me. It was hard to be conniving and deceptive when a boy like Cash Sterling was staring at me with his beautiful green eyes.

“You know,” he said, “this whole strike thing aside, I’ve liked working with you. I mean, when you aren’t avoiding me or bossing me around.” He grinned. “You kind of fascinate me. You’re—”