Page 63 of Play For Me

I hold up one of the electrolyte packs I’m supposed to be counting. “I take our athlete’s hydration very seriously.” She laughs and my stomach does that swooping thing again. I know I should get back to my work, but I can’t seem to stop myself from prolonging the conversation. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Duh.” She holds her arms out. “I love this.”

“You love blazing hot parking lots with no shade?”

She looks exasperated. “No. I love soccer.”

That makes me laugh. “You do? I had no idea. It’s not like you’ve made it your entire personality.”

“Not myentirepersonality.”

“You’re right. You’re also a mediocre poker player.”

She gasps in outrage and I realize I’m probably grinning like a fool—and I definitely am one because I’m openly flirting with one of the players while surrounded by the entire team, as well as the coaching and training staff.

“So, you’re ready for the game tomorrow?” I ask, trying to bolster my faltering professionalism. “Everything feeling good?”

I don’t specifically mention her knee, because that would piss her off, but she knows what I mean.

“I feel great. I’ve been?—”

Before she can finish her sentence, there’s a burst of laughter and some good-natured groaning from a group of girls standing at the other end of the bus. “Ransome!”’ one of them shouts. “Kia has never played poker. You totally have to teach her on the bus so we can play.”

Cecelia gives them a thumbs up before turning back to me. “See?Theyknow I’m not mediocre at cards.”

“They want you toteachsomeone. Haven’t you heard that expression about those who can’t do…”

She scowls, but I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

“Seriously,” she says. “Why do you not look more excited about this trip?”

I hold up my long-neglected clipboard. “Some of us are working on this trip.”

“And you think what I’m going to be doing on the field tomorrow isn’t work?”

“I think what you’re going to be doing on the field is your idea of Christmas morning and a birthday all rolled into one.”

Her grin turns goofy. “I do fucking love soccer.” Then she spreads her arms. “But I’m talking about all of this. The whole vibe!”

“The vibe?”

“Yes.” She scrunches her nose like she’s frustrated that I’m not getting it, but all I can think is how much I want to kiss her again, right there, in that scrunched up spot between her eyes. “The vibe. It’s a road trip! Road trips are fun so everyone is excited. There’s like, a buzz in the air.”

This time my stomach clenches for an entirely different reason, and I feel my shoulders tensing. “I’m not really good at that,” I mumble.

“Good at what.”

I shrug. “I’m just not…intuitive. I’ve never really been able to pick up on what other people are feeling.”

She’s quiet for a moment and when I finally force myself to look up from my clipboard she’s studying me, her head cocked. “I don’t think that’s true,” she says, her voice softer, no longer teasing. “You seem very intuitive when we work together. You knew exactly how I was feeling about my injury.”

That pulls me up short. She has a point, I realize. While I’ve never been good at reading people, I have no problem readingher. It took me less than an hour of playing soccer with her that night to figure out that it was fear of her injury that was keeping her from properly rehabbing her knee. I can always tell when she’s happy, or in a pissy mood, or when she’s teasing me. It took me years to be able to do that with Jay and Emery.

Before I can wrap my mind around that, Devon, the head trainer, calls out to ask me to help him load our equipment crates onto the bus. “Guess it’s back to work for me,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone light even though I’m still reeling a little over that revelation. “You go have fun playing poker.”

She gives me her biggest grin, the one that always has my lips curling up in return. “I’m preparing for our rematch. Just you wait, Barnes.”

It takes a lot of effort, but I manage not to watch her ass as she walks away from me. See? Totally professional.