Page 25 of The Game
Her smile falters, lower lip falling open, shining eyes lifting to meet mine, and she leans in a fraction of an inch. Just enough to give me the encouragement I need to follow suit. I’m drawn to her. The curves of her cheeks, the full lips, long lashes dropped half closed over her beautiful eyes. This wasn’t part of the plan. This attraction tugging me closer to her. I’m mesmerized by her molten chocolate eyes, and her easy camaraderie with the team. Even her awkwardness and unexpected bowling skills are adorable.
Our lips are so close I can feel the heat of her breath brushing mine when a gust of wind sends a shiver up my back. Jazz’s keys hit the floor with a clatter that breaks the spell. That was close. What just happened? This is not how this is supposed to go.
My head bumps hers as we both bend down topick up her keys.
“Sorry.” Our words ring out at the same time.
I shoot a dirty look at the back of the man that’s opening the inner doors to the building. It felt like a chance we might not get again. Probably for the best, though. This whole thing between us is fake. I don’t want to get wrapped up in a real relationship with real feelings. That’s what I’ve been trying to avoid here. When we agreed to this, I thought it would be fine. But maybe I’ve been celibate for too long. An innocent conversation is getting me all worked up. It’s just lust though. I’m not some horny sixteen-year-old. I can keep that shit under wraps.
Chapter 11
Practice Run
Jazz
My eyes scan theroom when I get to entrepreneurial business class, seeking a familiar face. When they land on Amira, I make a beeline to grab the seat next to her. I’ve got some damage to repair. Might as well start now. It’s only September. The perfect time to make up for the mistakes I made last year. Otherwise, it’s going to be a really lonely one with a fake boyfriend and only occasional time with Jordan.
“Hey. Can I sit here?” I don’t want to make any presumptions. This girl used to be my friend, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with me anymore.
Her deep blue eyes flick up from the sparkly silver notebook in front of her. She’s always got the best accessories. “Jazz?” Guilt twists my guts at the surprise in her eyes. We used to be close.
“Yeah. Look. I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine, Jazz. How are you doing?” She glances over my shoulder as if she’s expecting the shadow of my ex to be lurking there. And I guess I’ve been feeling like that too.
“Yes. I’m good.”
Other students are hustling in, filling up the seats in the smaller classroom. If she says no, I’m going to have to traipse around looking for an empty spot.
She seems to realize my dilemma. “Sit. Yes, please. I’d love for you to sit with me.”
Relief rushes over me. My hand is a little shaky as I drop my bag onto the desk, pulling out all of my supplies. Pencil case, notebook, textbook.
By the time I’ve finished shuffling everything around on my desk, I can feel eyes on the side of my head. I swivel around to see Amira staring at me, curiously. Her hand falls on top of mine, stilling the constant motion.
“How are you really doing?” There’s a soft unspoken question behind her words. One that I can identify but makes me a little uncomfortable. It’s hard to face people I care about knowing let myself get into a such a bad situation. Let a guy control me.
“I’m doing well. I had a good summer, worked at this new cafe near my house. It was good. Just what I needed.”
“And…” She nibbles on her lower lip as if she’s debating her next words. “Darryl? Are you still with him?”
“Nope. I broke up with him before I went home for the summer.” My hands are busy again, shifting things around the smooth surface of the desktop. I may have dreaded talkingabout him, but my shoulders feel just a little lighter saying them out loud.
Her smile widens. “Good to hear.”
Chapman rushes down the aisle at that moment. His cell phone is pressed to his ear as he makes rapid progress to the front of the room. As he steps behind the podium, he slides the phone into his pocket and swipes a hand through his close-cropped dark hair.
“My apologies. Just a minor emergency.” He’s flipping his laptop open and clicking some buttons to share his screen on the board as he’s talking. “The calls never stop when you’re running your own business. Sure you all still want to be here?”
Polite laughter ripples through the student body and I turn to Amira one more time. She’s focused on the board, listening to the professor as he launches into his lesson.
My next class is at the other end of campus, so I don’t get another chance to connect with my former, hopefully current, friend again. Gotta hustle to make it to Redman Hall, but as I’m rushing through the heavy wooden doors, a text notification pops up.
Having a little informal get together with the gang next week before we dive into our game plans for the year. Wanna come?
I’m almost floating after reading the message from Amira. Maybe this year is salvageable after all. I’m so preoccupied staring at my phone my shoulder is colliding with a person before I spot them. I glance up.
“Sor…” The apology dies on my tongue and my limbs feel like they’ve been filled with lead weights.