Page 24 of Play For Me

“Thanks for the reminder,” I snap, temper rising.

His jaw clenches. “I’m just saying?—”

“Look,” I interrupt. “I get that you have a job to do. I’m not going to try to make it difficult on you, okay? You can draw up your training plans and I’ll do the exercises. But I’m not going to need any extra one-on-one work, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“But—”

I press on. “And I really don’t see why any of that means we need to get to know each other better.”

“Cecelia.”

He’s not looking away anymore, and the discomfort has left his face. Instead, his eyes are searching mine, intent and serious, like he’s trying to figure me out. Like there’s something he finds fascinating in my expression and he can’t look away. I don’t like it at all.

“I have class,” I say, taking a step back. “Unless there’s anything pressing, I’m taking off.”

His gaze is sharp now and, if anything, he’s starting to look distinctly pissed off. Is he gonna snap at me, like he did to Vega? Instead, he blows out a breath. “Fine.”

“Fine,” I shoot back. Then I give him my most agreeable smile—the one that usually means I’m getting ready to make your life miserable—and turn to go.

“Don’t forget your evaluation,” he calls back, a clear challenge in his voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I grimace to myself as I stomp to the locker room. This semester just got majorly annoying.

EIGHT

CECELIA

“Food’s here!” Violet calls, banging through the front door of our off-campus house.

“Thank God,” Cade moans, jumping up from where he was sprawled on the couch. “I’m starving.”

“Where’s Ash and Vega?” Vi asks as Cade and I crowd around her in the kitchen, grabbing for the white cardboard boxes of Chinese food as she unloads them.

“Who cares?” Cade asks, opening a container of fried rice. “More for us.”

Violet gives him a disapproving look and he sighs. “Fine.” Then he moves two feet to the kitchen doorway and bellows. “Ash! Vega! Food’s here.”

“So helpful,” Vi mutters, shaking her head. “Like I couldn’t have done that myself.

Cade’s shouting works, though, because our other two cousins join us a moment later. “I’m already so full,” Vega moans, even as she grabs a plate.

“Testing recipes today?” I ask, nudging Cade away from the fried rice before he eats it all.

“Cupcakes,” she says happily. “I think I finally figured out what was wrong with the lemon and ricotta recipe. But I had to go through like, seven batches to get there.”

Vega is a seriously amazing pastry chef. She’s had a YouTube baking channel since we were children. She even competed in a baking reality show for kids years ago, but we’re not allowed to mention that. Or the asshole who screwed her over to win the competition.

Now she’s looking down at the few pieces of Kung Pao chicken on her plate. “Ah, screw it,” she says, reaching for another carton. “My stomach will make room.”

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Ash warns as she heaps noodles on her plate. Vega just shrugs.

“Worth it. You know how I feel about Chinese food.”

We bring our plates out to the living room and gather around the coffee table, taking seats on the couch and floor. Cade runs back to the kitchen and returns with an armful of sparkling waters and sodas.

“Okay,” Violet says, once we’ve all gotten a few bites of food into us. “I want to know what had Ceece stomping around her bedroom all afternoon.”

I make a face at her. “I wasn’t stomping.”