Page 61 of The Draft

“Yup. It’s same stuff that could quench your thirst.”

Did I just wet my panties?

“Uhh.” Shit. I wasn't used to this. Yes, I was asking for it with all the flirting, but I had no idea what to do once Dash started flirting back, and in front of my brother, no less. It was so un-Dash-like.

“Are you propositioning me?” The thoughts going through my mind were obscene and I was finding it hard keeping it cool when all I wanted to do was jump his bones.

“No,” he said plainly. “I'm merely suggesting that you get a Wildcat juice drink. It's purple, so will do the same thing that slushie thing does. Change the color of your tongue.”

My shoulders slumped. Was I really this much of a horn dog that Dash could say anything, and I'd take it as a sexual innuendo?

His gaze swept over me, stopping at my crossed arms just below my chest. “You cold? Do you need my jacket?”

My nipples were no doubt poking out because I was freezing, but I was also stubborn and refused to get any help from a guy who was teasing me.

“I'm good,” I quipped, and turned my attention back to the field. I hadn't been watching the game, but even if I had, it wouldn't have mattered. It wasn't like I knew anything about football.

“Great. So, Wildcat juice for you. Does anyone want anything from the snack bar?” Dash asked, getting Scotty and Cade's attention. I glared at the floor, too embarrassed at how riled Dash got me to look at my brother.

“I want something, but I don’t know what. Let me come with you,” Cade said before taking Scotty’s drink order.

When they left, it was just me and Scotty. Scotty and me. I'd never been alone with him like this before, and it wasn't a bad thing. He was a nice guy, after all. It was just kind of weird. Something about being around him made me feel unsettled. It was probably because he was perceptive, and I had a feeling he knew there was something going on with me.

As we sat there, the quiet began to eat away at me. I was a nervous kind of girl. I didn't like sitting silently with someone I knew well, let alone a guy that was considered the star of Covey U. Why did he even come to this tonight?

Blowing out a breath, I leaned into Scotty, brushing his arm, and asked, “Got any idea what’s happening down there?”

He turned to me, the first time since we got here, and looked confused. “With what?”

My smile was still forced, and I tilted my head toward the game below me. Was I supposed to be able to read names from here because it felt like I was watching an army of purple ants take on some red ones.

“You can't be serious.”

“Yes, I can. I've been hanging around ice rinks my entire life. I've neverhad time to stand by a field and watch people in spandex grunting while throwing balls.” I crinkled my nose, knowing full well that this answered the eternal question in my mind.Hockey or Football.I definitely wasn't a football girl. That much was clear. There was just too much stopping.

“Why are you trying to date a football player if you know nothing about the sport?”

“Do I need to know how to sing to enjoy music?”

“What does that even mean?”

I shrugged, acting casually. “Just making an observation.”

“That makes no—”

“Um, excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you, but are you Scotty Hendricks?”

As if on cue, Scotty's smile widened, and he was ready to talk to this fan as if it didn't bother him that he couldn’t leave his dorm without being recognized.

“Yes, I am.”

The girl's face lit up and she elbowed the friend next to her. “I told you it was him. Can we get a picture with you?”

“Sure,” he said, and I could almost hear the frustration in his voice, but they didn't notice. They didn't know him well enough.

“I’m happy to take it for you,” I offered, and for the slightest of seconds, Scotty’s smile dropped. He quickly pulled it back into a smile.

“You sure?”