Playing Hard to Get (The Players)

“IS IT TOO OVER THE TOP?” I turn to face Natalie, bracing myself for her criticism.

It’s Saturday, just after noon, and we’re getting ready for the game—Natalie, Blair and me. We’re crowded in my bathroom, the face paint all over the counter, all three of us covering our faces in our school colors.

It’s kind of wild how I go from not liking or even understanding football at all to going all in and painting my face before my boyfriend’s game. My life has changed dramatically, and all for the better.

Natalie studies me, her gaze zeroing in on the alternating red, white and gold dots I painted in a swirly pattern around my eyebrows. “Face paint at a football game where your boyfriend is the star? Never too much for that cause,” Natalie says firmly. “Though I do think you need something on your cheek.”

I glance at myself in the mirror, feeling like I have enough already. “What more do I need?”

“His number on your cheek.” Natalie smirks.

“Nice touch,” Blair agrees with a nod, though her enthusiasm isn’t as obvious as usual.

Something is bothering her, and I think it has everything to do with Cam, but I can’t bring it up. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there’s nothing going on between those two, but…

I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between them. I haven’t brought it up to Nat either. I don’t want to start any rumors…

“Come closer. I’ll draw it on for you,” Natalie says.

I stand still, letting her shade in the number eighty-eight on one cheek, and it looks so good, I let her draw it on my other cheek too. Until I look like an overly obsessed fangirl who’s got a thing for Knox Maguire.

Which I do, so it’s an accurate description. Ha.

We drive over to the stadium, Blair tagging along with us.

“Why aren’t you going with your parents?” I ask her. I thought she wanted to hang out with them. She was excited about their arrival and talked about it with us almost nonstop.

A sigh leaves her and she stares out the car window. “I’m kind of mad at them for selling our family house.”

Oh, that’s right. Knox mentioned that to me last night after dinner, when I went to his place after we dropped his parents off at the hotel. We stayed up for a little while cuddling together in bed, talking. He told me how his parents are moving to California, and while he’s sad they’re selling the house, he’s happy for his parents and that they’re doing something for themselves.

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks.

Blair fills her in on what’s going on while I remain quiet.

“I totally get where you’re coming from,” I tell Blair. “But I also can see why they want to move closer to your aunt and uncle.”

“Knox told me I’m being a spoiled brat, but I can’t help it. It makes me emotional, knowing that we won’t be able to go home anymore. We’ll have to visit our parents all the way in California, and that’s not home to me.” Blair exhales loudly. “I have fond memories of spending time with them there during the summer. Over the holidays, especially Thanksgiving, but it won’t be the same.”

“Change is inevitable,” Natalie adds.

“I hate change,” Blair mutters.

“Clearly,” Natalie says drolly, breaking the tension, making me giggle.

Making Blair giggle too. Until we’re all laughing. Natalie turns up the music and we start singing along with every song playing, driving into the stadium with the windows down despite how cold it is outside. Natalie wants to make sure everyone can hear us because she’s a show-off like that.

I don’t mind. I’m too excited for the game to care. Today is going to be a great day. I can feel it in my bones.

It’s halftime and our team is losing by two touchdowns and a field goal.

It’s not looking good, and I’m trying to put on a brave face, but deep down, I’m crushed. I know how important this game is to Knox and he’s probably devastated.

No, not devastated. More like he’s thoroughly pissed off.

“I can’t believe they’re losing.” Natalie sends me a worried look. “You think they can pull it off?”

“I hope so.” I tug at the white knit cap I’m wearing, shivering beneath my coat. I tried to wear just the shirt Knox got me, layering a long-sleeved thermal T-shirt beneath it, but eventually, I couldn’t stand the icy air any longer. I had to slip on the coat, covering up the number completely.

Thank goodness for the numbers painted on my cheek. They’re a nice touch, and I’ve seen more than a few women notice the number and frown in curiosity. We’re as public as we can be as a couple, but I’m thinking most people aren’t paying attention to what we’re doing, and I get it. Knox is the superstar.

Not me.

And now my superstar is having a bad day and I feel terrible for him. There’s nothing I can do to fix it either, which leaves me feeling helpless.

Blair seems to be suffering as well, and I know it has nothing to do with her being worried about her brother. I noticed the way her gaze tracked Cam every time he was on the field. Every throw, every sack, and the way she leapt to her feet with a gasp when the ball he threw was intercepted…

Yeah. Knox’s sister has a thing for his best friend and that makes me apprehensive, not going to lie. How is Knox going to feel about this potential relationship? He’s so overprotective of Blair, and he trusts that Cam would never overstep any boundaries.

It’s a little scary to think of the fallout potential from this. I don’t want to keep secrets, but if it’s obvious to me, could it be evident to Knox as well? Or are they really good at hiding it from him?

“We should go get hot chocolate,” Blair suggests as she stands, tucking her coat around her tightly. “I can’t sit here anymore. My butt is frozen and I’m too worried about this game.”

“Let’s go.” Natalie stands and I do too, following them down the steps and toward one of the concessions stands that are all over the stadium. The line at this one isn’t too terribly long and we make our way to the front quickly, ordering our drinks and Natalie ordering a hot dog with everything on it.

“Gross,” I tell her after she pays.

“Don’t judge my love for stadium hot dogs.” She sends me a look and I clamp my lips shut.

“No judgment.” She loves junk food more than the average person. She already ate nachos during the first quarter and I don’t doubt she’ll buy cotton candy during the last few minutes of the fourth.

“You’re not getting anything to eat?” Natalie asks Blair.

Blair shakes her head. “I’m too nervous to eat.”

“Me too,” I add.

“You’re that worried over your brother’s game?” Natalie lifts a single brow and I recognize that look.

She’s suspicious.

“Yeah.” Blair glances around as if she doesn’t want to meet Nat’s gaze. “It’s stressful.”

The guy behind the counter calls out Natalie’s name and we go pick up our hot chocolates while Natalie grabs her hot dog and a bunch of napkins.

“I’m going to go find my parents,” Blair tells us before she takes off, speed-walking away from us.

Natalie peeks inside the foil bag they packaged her hot dog in, a tiny smile playing upon her lips. “Ah, perfect.” Her head lifts, her shrewd gaze meeting mine. “That girl isn’t worried about her brother.”

I pop the lid off my drink, hot steam rising from the chocolate. That’s going to burn my tongue off, I just know it. “Right? Something is up.”

“Between her and someone whose name starts with C?” When I nod, she goes on, “Every game we go to, she watches him so closely, I’m afraid she’s going to start drooling.”

I snap the lid back on and clutch the hot cup between my hands, warming myself up. “I think I caught them doing—something.”

Natalie’s jaw drops. “What do you mean? Tell me now. You’ve been holding out.”

Laughing, I start walking, and she falls into step beside me, our heads bent close together as I explain to her what I witnessed at Knox’s apartment when I walked into the living room and they were both so frazzled.

“She even called him a prick,” I finish. “She was upset. And he wasn’t happy either.”

“Hmm, suspicious.”

We pause near the top of the stairwell that leads back down to our seats. “I agree. Something is going on, but I don’t know what. Should I mention it to Knox?”

“Probably. Or maybe not?” Natalie shrugs. “We don’t have concrete evidence, and it’s not really our place to tell.”

“It’s not yours, but it’s definitely mine.” I don’t want Knox mad at me for keeping this from him, but I also don’t want him pissed off when something comes out.

“This is on Blair, Jo. And Cam. If they’re fooling around in secret, it’s eventually going to come out.”

“True.”

We go back to our seats, and a few minutes later, Blair rejoins us. We’re still sipping on our hot chocolate, the three of us talking about nothing special, and eventually, the game starts back up. Thankfully, the team on the field now seems like a completely different group compared to how they were during the first half of the game. I can hear them yelling at each other in encouragement on the field, their breath sending steamy tendrils into the air. I can even make out the fierceness on their faces, despite the helmets, their determination to change this game obvious.

Within the first minute of the third quarter, Knox catches the ball and no one from the other team is around him. He takes advantage and starts running.

I’m on my feet in an instant, hopping up and down, screaming, Go Maguire, go! over and over again, Natalie and Blair joining me. He ends up running it all the way down the field and into the end zone, scoring their first touchdown of the game, and I’m beside myself with happiness.

It’s like this for the rest of the game. I forget that it’s freezing cold and that I was miserable the entire first half. Our team is electric on that field, their defensive line on fire, holding the other team back. We score two more touchdowns and a field goal, never letting them add to the scoreboard, and we win, 24-17. By the time the game is over, my throat is raw and my voice hoarse from all the yelling. I’m sweating, having ditched the coat a while ago, and I can’t stop stealing bites of the pink cotton candy Natalie bought midway through the fourth quarter.

She’s so predictable, my Nat.

“Thank God they won,” Blair says, her voice dripping with relief. “It would’ve been a miserable night hanging out with the fam and an angry Knox.”

“What are you guys doing after the game? Going out with your parents?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving the game with my parents and we’re having dinner at the hotel. There’s a nice restaurant there and it’ll be very low-key. You’re going right?” Blair asks.

“Knox didn’t mention it.” I’m not offended though. Like I told him before, they should have family time together, and I don’t always need to be there.

“Ah, I figured you’d go.”

“It’s okay. I’ll go talk to Knox after the game and then head home with Nat.”

We file down to the bottom of the stands and go out onto the field, once they open it to the public, which is a tradition our college still maintains. I go in search of Knox, losing Blair and Nat in the process, but I’m not too worried. Natalie will find me.

She always does.

“There you are,” Knox says when he spots me, jogging over to where I’m standing. He is a mess. His white home uniform is covered with dirt and grass stains and I’m pretty sure that’s blood on the front of his jersey. “You’ve got my number on your face.”

“You like it? That was Natalie’s idea.”

His gaze goes soft and he cups my face, his thumb streaking across my cheek. “I love it. I like seeing you wear my number.”

The possessive kiss he delivers to my lips has me swaying toward him. So much so that he has to brace me with his hands on my shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I like it.” He chuckles. “Holy shit, that was some game.”

“You were great.” I give him a hug, not caring how awkward it is when he’s decked out in his full equipment.

“Only during the second half. I don’t know what was up those first two quarters.” He releases me and takes a step back, shaking his head. “Man, that was rough.”

“You did it though. You won.”

He grins, resting his hands on his hips. “You’re right. We did do it, didn’t we?”

Knox looks so pleased with himself, I pull my phone out of my pocket and take a quick photo of him.

“Hey.” He only sounds mildly irritated. And from the smile I see on his face, I know he’s really not irritated with me at all. “Let’s take a photo together.”

We snap a few selfies together and I immediately post them on social media at his request. My favorite is the one of us smiling into the camera cheek to cheek, his number on full display on my other cheek. I caption it, 88 is my favorite number.

“That’s good,” he says, his gaze stuck on his phone screen as he checks out my post. “We look really happy.”

“I am really happy,” I admit, my voice soft.

Despite the chaos on the field surrounding us, I feel like we’re all alone. That he’s mine and I’m his and no one else matters. Knox makes me feel special. Like I’m loved and cherished. And I don’t ever want this feeling to end.

Clearing my throat, I part my lips, my declaration of love right on the tip of my tongue, when his parents magically appear, ruining the moment.

“What a game!” his mother yells before she wraps him up in an embrace.

I stand off to the side and let them gush over their son. The pride on their faces is nice to see and I’m proud of him too. He’s definitely going places. After his senior year, he’ll most likely end up playing for an NFL team.

My smile fades. What happens then? Where do I fit into his life once he graduates and moves on?

I’m frozen, immovable as he talks with his parents. His mom eventually asks me to take photos of them and I launch into action, moving like a robot, taking the photos for them as requested while they run through various poses. They ask me to pose with them as well and I do so, standing next to Knox like a dutiful girlfriend does, the entire time wondering what I should do. Where should I go.

“You’re coming to dinner with us, right?” Knox asks me at one point and I slowly shake my head, the refusal automatic.

“You guys go ahead without me. Spend time with your family before they leave.”

He frowns. “I thought you’d want to go.”

“It’s okay.” I smile at him. “Call me later and maybe we can get together if you’re not too tired.”

“I’m never too tired for you.” He kisses me, his dad calling his name at the same moment. Knox goes to him and I watch them talk, his dad beaming with pride, his mother watching them both with fondness shining in her eyes.

Before, when Knox would talk about the NFL—never that much though, he always said he didn’t want to jinx himself—I didn’t think that much of it. But now that my heart is on the line, it’s different.

He’s going to leave me eventually.

And it’s going to hurt.