Playing to Win (The Players)

We don’t go back onto the football field for the rest of the week, much to my secret disappointment. Part of the reason is because the coaches asked us to stay away because they didn’t want the team distracted. Their first game was away, and it was important, so totally understandable.

We were supposed to attend that game but were unable to go because Eric forgot to get permission from administration and it turned into this big mess, Gwen and Eric arguing over it for a solid thirty minutes. They were so snippy with each other, I’ve never been more grateful for the weekend to come because I needed to get out of there. Couldn’t take the tension.

Those two? I think they got a little thrill over being mad at one another. Like their arguing was foreplay.

Hmm.

Over the weekend when I was sick of homework, I’d scroll through the hours of content Eric shared with us via Google Drive, trying to put something together that felt fresher.

It was a struggle, but I managed something and ran it by Gwen. I posted the video Saturday right before the scheduled kickoff, and while it was decent, and we got about two hundred likes, it was nothing like our arm candy post.

That one now has over ten thousand likes, which means it’s gone semi-viral. And it has almost five hundred comments, pretty much all of them from women trying to guess the players by the guys’ arms. Or they’re demanding to know who they are. Some of the guesses are right, which is kind of impressive.

When Monday rolls around, Gwen sweeps into the office, the last one to arrive, a smug expression on her face as she deposits her book bag on her desk.

“Eleven-point-five-k likes, Eric.” She shoves her phone in his face for emphasis and he averts his gaze, annoyed. “I told you that type of content would work.”

“You had one lucky post, okay?” He shakes his head, crossing his arms in front of him. “Let’s see if you can do it again.”

“We can,” Gwyneth says smugly, and I wince.

“Saturday’s post didn’t do so well.”

“It wasn’t new content we filmed,” Gwen says. “It was Eric’s.”

“Hey,” he protests. “You’re making it seem like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t,” Gwen says, not mincing words. Her gaze shifts to mine. “Ready to go film?”

“Oh, thank God.” I leap to my feet. “I can’t take it hanging out in here with you two fighting all day.”

“We don’t fight,” they say at the same time, which is weird and proof that they’re secretly in sync with each other.

“Afraid to break it to you, but you guys do. And I’m over it.” I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder, heading for the door. “Let’s go.”

When I realize no one is following me, I turn and lean against the door, contemplating them both. Their matching sour expressions. Their narrowed eyes. Ugh, these two. I can’t with them anymore.

“Are we really going to waste away in this office today because you’re mad at each other?” I snap, feeling as if I’m going to actually snap.

Eric and Gwen share a look, Gwen speaking first.

“Maybe we should still go over the video content first—”

“Give me a break,” I interrupt. “You don’t want to go over Eric’s content, and Eric doesn’t want you touching it either.” Eric opens his mouth to speak but I shoot him a look that has his lips pressing closed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel like you’re in some sort of weird standoff that feels more like foreplay than actual anger, and I can’t take it anymore. The tension between you guys is thick enough to slice through, and I’m sorry, but you’re both being stupid.”

Gwen’s eyebrows shoot up and Eric grimaces.

“Foreplay?” he croaks, sounding uncomfortable.

I nod, not backing down from my assessment. “Definitely.”

Gwen snorts. “Not even.”

Fine, we won’t go there, but my frustration is bubbling close to the surface and I don’t care if I’ve been on this team for like, a week. They’re both being so stubborn it’s like they want to sabotage the team on purpose.

“Seriously, you two. Just…Eric, it’s okay to admit our post has done better than all of the football team posts you’ve made combined.”

Eric’s mouth drops open. “That’s not quite true—”

“And Gwen, stop gloating and trying to tell Eric what to do. I think we can all co-exist and post a variety of content to appeal to all of our fans. The dudes and the dads and the women. Wouldn’t you agree?” I cross my arms, feeling like I’ve somehow become their mom.

I don’t even know them, yet here I am, bossing them around.

They both reluctantly nod, keeping their gazes averted.

“They’re getting restless online, by the way. They all want to know whose arms we featured, which means we need to go film more content with the guys and reveal who they are.”

Ugh, meaning I’ll have to interact with Ace. Maybe I should leave that up to Gwen and I can go do…something else.

Anything else.

“It’s a home game this weekend,” Eric murmurs, staring off into the distance. “We should start pushing it.”

“Of course, we should, and it’s Monday, so we have plenty of time to push.”

“We should post multiple times a day,” Gwen suggests, keeping her focus on me, not once looking in Eric’s direction.

“You know I think that’s a bad idea—” Eric starts, but I hold my hand out, stopping him from talking.

“Have we ever done that before?” I ask them.

Gwen and Eric shake their heads.

“Then maybe we should try it.” I take a deep breath, hating how I’m taking over this situation and turning it into some sort of meeting-lecture, but nothing was going to get accomplished until I said something. “Think we can get out there and film?”

“I should ask Mattson,” Eric says. “Sometimes they don’t like the distraction. He kept us away Friday, remember?”

Gwen snort-laughs, like she doesn’t believe him, and I send her a look, silently asking her to explain.

“They usually love it when we’re out there filming them. I think they actually play better when we’re there because they’re all a bunch of show-offs.” Gwen rolls her eyes.

I smile. “I think you’re onto something.” I glance over at Eric. “Do you want to reach out to Mattson or should we live on the edge and just show up?”

“I can text him.” Eric pulls out his phone and sends a quick message, his expression uncertain. “He might not answer me though. They’re already out on the field.”

Love how Eric keeps tabs on their schedule. He knows it by heart.

We wait for a few more minutes, Eric gathering his camera equipment, while Gwen remains at the desk, stewing in her feelings. I approach her carefully, sending a quick look in Eric’s direction before I settle into the chair next to hers, knocking my shoulder into hers gently.

“You okay?”

“I’m annoyed,” she tells the table, where her gaze is currently fixed.

“At Eric?”

She nods.

“Why?”

Gwen turns to me, her voice lowering, her gaze shifting from me to Eric and back to me as she talks. “He’s being stubborn. And rude. I think he’s mad that our post did so well and he doesn’t want to admit his content is stale.”

“Yeah, well you’re both being really stubborn,” I say, keeping my voice purposefully gentle. “I agree he’s struggling to admit that our post did great, but you two sitting in this office constantly arguing or not speaking to each other at all isn’t working. We need to get out there and get more content. We have a game to push. An entire team to feature.”

This office is tiny. I’m over being locked away in here. And besides…

I hate to admit this, but I want to get outside and watch Ace in action. I haven’t seen him since he stopped to talk to me when I was sitting at the picnic table struggling to take notes on the most boring chapter I’ve ever read for my ancient history class, and I…

Miss him.

No. I don’t miss him. That’s just weird. How can I miss someone who irritates me every time I talk to him? Hell, I look at him and I’m irritated.

I definitely don’t miss him, but I do miss his…smart mouth and charming smile.

God, if he ever knew I thought that, he would be so smug.

“Have you heard from Mattson yet?” Gwen asks Eric, her tone even. Not hostile like it has been.

He shakes his head, remaining silent.

“We should go out there anyway.” She pushes back her chair and stands. “You ready, Ruby?”

I nod, leaping to my feet with a smile. “Let’s get out there.”

We hear them before we can actually see them, their angry shouts filling the air. A whistle constantly being blown. Lots of curse words, including a blasted “Fuck!” that seems to vibrate in the air.

Sounds like the football team is in crisis, much like their social media team.

“Throw the fucking ball, Townsend! Get rid of the damn ball!”

They finally come into focus, just in time for us to witness Ace scrambling, launching the ball at the same time he’s sacked from the side, the lineman taking him down hard.

A gasp escapes me when Ace hits the ground and I clamp my lips together, hoping no one noticed. Gwen and Eric are too wrapped up in their own bullshit to notice me anyway and I try to play it cool, though my heart is thumping twice as hard as I watch Ace lie prone on the field.

He pops up seconds later, as if a current of electricity ran through him, bringing him back to life, and I breathe a sigh of relief, my gaze tracking his every movement as he claps hands with the lineman who just took him down, performing some sort of complicated hand shaking ritual that eventually has me shaking my head.

Boys. They’re kind of ridiculous.

We launch right into capturing content, Eric protesting at first that we should ask Mattson if it’s okay, but Gwen ignores him, holding up her phone and filming Ace as he gets back into position.

I stand behind her, my gaze stuck on Ace. He’s wearing a practice uniform with pads and everything and he looks positively delicious. He’s also got a sweatband around his head, though he’s wearing it more like a head band so it keeps his hair out of his eyes.

Most any other guy wearing that, I’d think he looks dumb, but not Ace.

Nope, he’s hot as hell in just about anything.

When he finally notices us, he does a double take, a slow smile sweeping across his face when our gazes lock, his dropping to my black T-shirt, lingering there. For a minute I think he’s just checking me out but then when his smile shifts into a shit-eating grin, I remember what my shirt says.

Future MILF.

I can’t help that I love a good silly T-shirt, but I’m particular too. I won’t just wear some dumb shirt for the sake of amusing myself or others. I have to really like it—I might even need to believe in it. I also need to feel a little cool when I wear it.

Natalie bought me this shirt when we first moved in together and I immediately loved it, because of course I did. Future MILF—definitely goals.

Gwen catches some footage while they continue to practice until Mattson blows his whistle, calling a water break.

“We’ll let them rest for a bit and then maybe you could go over there and grab all the guys we used in the video from last week?” Gwen’s brows shoot up, her expression hopeful.

“I can gather them up,” I tell her.

Gwen acts like a boss most of the time, so it’s funny how she gets nervous around the football players. Though I guess they’re pretty intimidating. Tall and broad and boisterous and confident. It’s a lot.

After giving them a few minutes, I walk across the field, stopping just in front of them and pasting on my brightest smile. “Hey, guys! How are you?”

They all offer me a halfhearted greeting and I realize these guys are still in a funk, which sucks. I don’t get it either. They should feel pretty good after pulling out a win Saturday. The game was close but they ended up on top.

Right now, though? I need them in a better mood to make this video.

“Can we get the guys who appeared in the video last week to film with us for a few minutes?” I glance over at Mattson, who’s observing all of us, his gaze narrowed. “If that’s okay with you, Coach?”

“Go ahead. Don’t take too long though. These boys need some serious work.” His voice is tinged with irritation.

Okay then.

There are a few groans from the group, but all six of the guys who filmed with us last week approach me with friendly smiles, including Ace.

“What’s up, future MILF?” His light blue eyes are twinkling as he stands directly in front of me but I choose to ignore him.

“Follow me, boys.” I wave a hand and they all fall into step behind me as I lead them to where Gwen is waiting. She has them stand in front of her and smile, even flex their arm muscles if they want and most of them do. With the exception of Ace.

“Trying to stay modest,” he tells Gwen with the utmost sincerity before she starts recording and I roll my eyes.

This man. He’s full of it.

Once Gwen is done, Mattson looks ready to get them back on the field, his fingers curled around his whistle like he’s gonna blow at any second. Ace stops right next to me before he rejoins the team, his head tilting toward mine.

“You should go to Logan’s tonight.” His voice is deep and sincere and I’m baffled.

Where did this come from?

“Why?” I fight the giddiness that rises at his request. I could assume he was asking me on a date, but requesting I meet him at a bar doesn’t qualify as a date.

“It’s Monday night. Half-price night.”

“So?” I mean, I love a deal like anyone else but come on.

“I don’t know. I thought it could be—fun.” I chance a look at him, steeling myself from the power of his smile. “We should catch up.”

“Catch up about what?” I ask warily.

“Anything. Everything. I like talking to you, Red.” He reaches out, his fingers curling around my chin, tilting my face up. “I like looking at you too. Whatcha think? Tonight, say around nine?”

What in the world is going on? Am I dreaming?

No. No, I’m not. I stare at Ace’s smiling face, my brain scrambling to come up with a reply. I should say no. I don’t know what he’s about or why he’s asking me to meet him at Logan’s. Is he trying to charm my panties off? It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to do. I try to look tough. Remain resilient.

But the way he’s looking at me right now, the confident smile and easygoing attitude, his warm fingers still curled around my chin, it’s enough to make me say yes and forget all about my earlier concerns in regards to this way too sexy man.

“Did you knock something loose earlier?” I ask, and he frowns. “When you took that hit?”

He chuckles, the warm sound winding its way through my blood, leaving me a quaking mess. I lock my knees together so my legs won’t give way. “Nah. I’m stronger than I look.”

I say nothing. The man definitely looks plenty strong.

“Why are you asking me to meet you at Logan’s?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe there’s the fact that you have an entire fan club at your whim whenever you want them?”

He presses his thumb to the corner of my mouth, his gaze hot as it lingers on my lips. I wish he wouldn’t stare at them.

Fine, I like it when he looks at me. But this is nothing! It means nothing.

“Can I confess something?” he murmurs.

“Okay,” I say, suddenly breathless.

“Can’t stop thinking about you since our last encounter, Red. I missed having you on the sidelines.” He pauses for a second. “You didn’t come to the game.”

“We were supposed to be there. There were—paperwork issues.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, well, you need to come to Saturday’s game.” His voice is firm and he releases his hold on my chin.

“We’ll be there,” I reassure him, wondering if he’s for real.

How much does it really matter that I’m not on the sidelines? I think he’s just saying this.

“And you need to come to Logan’s. It’s half-off night. Everyone comes to Logan’s on half-off night.”

“Really?”

Ace nods, his gaze locked on my mouth. As if he’s thinking of the many things he can stuff in it. Or maybe that’s me having those filthy thoughts. “Definitely.”

“Do you go out and drink every night or what?”

“No.” He frowns. “I’m not a total party animal—not anymore. In fact, I’ve been drinking less this season. Treating my body like a temple.”

Ace waves a hand at his body for emphasis.

I roll my eyes. “My brother used to say the same exact thing.”

“Really?” He actually seems pleased by this. “Love that.”

“You would,” I mutter, glancing around, noting how Gwen is watching us.

I look away from her, not wanting to see the suspicion in her gaze. She’s already mentioned that she thinks Ace likes me, which I firmly believe is a stretch. He might want to fuck me, but like me?

I’m not buying it.

“Say yes that you’ll come to Logan’s tonight.” Mattson blows his whistle and Ace starts backing away from me. “Come on, Red. You know you want to hang out, at least for a little bit. Nine o’clock? I’ll save you a seat.”

“I have homework.” I always have homework, but I can work on it when I get home. There are still hours to go until nine o’clock…

Seriously though? I shouldn’t do it. I absolutely can’t meet up with this guy. I’m not interested in him like that. A casual thing. He’s the type who chews up a woman and immediately spits her out. And besides…

I get caught with him? I’m out of a job.

“Just say yes, Ruby Red. You’ll make my day. Oh, and stick around, will you? Pretty sure I’ll have a better practice today thanks to you.”

I don’t answer him, but we do stick around for the remainder of practice and he was right.

He played like a champ. They all did. I even overheard the pep talk Mattson gave them as practice was winding down.

“Don’t know what got into you boys today, but let’s keep it up.”

The pointed look Ace sent in my direction left me feeling helpless. I had nothing to do with their improved practice.

Did I?