football?”
She smirks darkly. “I like you in those tight pants.”
My blood heats. “So you do like me?”
“I like to look at you.” She flirts. I love when Laney toys with me. It electrifies my insides.
“Lemon—” I lean in close to her ear, getting an injection of her intoxicating scent. “If you hang out with me after the game, I’ll let you do so much more than just look.”
She burns me with those scorching blue eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested in being just another touchdown in your end zone.”
I can’t stop the ridiculous smile from spreading across my face. “I love when you talk dirty to me.”
Actually, I love everything about Laney, from the way she looks with those red streaks running through her hair, to her casual Converse, and smart mouth. She’s the anti-southern bell. And exactly what I need.
“You better be careful, Laney Summers, or else you might get caught from behind.”
“Is that a threat, Kamdyn Ellis?”
I glare at her like I want to devour her. “It’s a threat, and a promise, and a pledge.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“Oh no? Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
“And what did you have in mind?”
“A bet of sorts.”
“We’re eighteen. We’re not old enough to gamble.”
“Then let’s just keep it between us.” I lower my voice provocatively.
“I’m listening.”
“If we win tonight, I get you.”
“Excuse me?”
“If we win the state championship, I get to have you, in the bed of my pickup, to do with what I want.”
“You want me to bet my body?” She raises her eyebrows.
Maybe your heart, too?
“It seems to be the only way you’ll give me the time of day,” I say vulnerably, hoping my humble tone and baby blues will persuade her. It works on all the other girls, but Laney is different. She doesn’t topple that easily. She needs persuading and a challenge.
She sighs, as if considering. “What’s the spread?”
“Spread?”
“Yeah, you know, how much do you have to win by?”
“For a girl who claims she doesn’t like football, you can talk a good game.”
She shrugs. “It’s discussed nonstop in my house. I listen with one ear open.”
She is always surprising me. Since day one.
“Okay.” I mull it over carefully; the last time we played North we won by seventeen and that was with all their starters healthy. Since then, they’ve lost two of their best players to injury: their quarterback and a tight end. “Twenty-point spread.”
Laney’s eyes widen. “That’s a huge number. Are you that confident?”
“Baby.” I put my hand on her leg and run it up her thigh. “Football is what I know. So yes, you’ll be mine tonight.”
T he roar of the crowd is deafening. The smell of fresh cut grass intoxicating. The feel of the ball in my hands exhilarating.
I thrive on all of it. It’s what causes my heart to beat and blood to flow through my veins. It’s my vitality. I have lived football for as long I can remember. My mother says I was born to play. She knew the instant I threw my binky across the room at three months old. She’s always said I was special, and I have always believed her. When I was a freshman, Sports Illustrated did a top ten article on football prodigies in the US, and I was number one. My whole life I have been compared to the likes of Tiger Woods and LeBron James. Descriptions like speed, power, and pinpoint accuracy have followed me everywhere. I have trained at the best football camps in the US with the most well-known names in the NFL. I broke the record for most passing attempts, most completions, and most passing yards my sophomore year. And have continued to crush those numbers into the ground. I was recruited by over fifty colleges and given full rides to all of them. Football is not only my future, it’s my life. I dominate in the arena; no one can touch me.
The cheerleaders are shouting on the sidelines and the announcer’s voice is echoing
She smirks darkly. “I like you in those tight pants.”
My blood heats. “So you do like me?”
“I like to look at you.” She flirts. I love when Laney toys with me. It electrifies my insides.
“Lemon—” I lean in close to her ear, getting an injection of her intoxicating scent. “If you hang out with me after the game, I’ll let you do so much more than just look.”
She burns me with those scorching blue eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested in being just another touchdown in your end zone.”
I can’t stop the ridiculous smile from spreading across my face. “I love when you talk dirty to me.”
Actually, I love everything about Laney, from the way she looks with those red streaks running through her hair, to her casual Converse, and smart mouth. She’s the anti-southern bell. And exactly what I need.
“You better be careful, Laney Summers, or else you might get caught from behind.”
“Is that a threat, Kamdyn Ellis?”
I glare at her like I want to devour her. “It’s a threat, and a promise, and a pledge.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“Oh no? Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
“And what did you have in mind?”
“A bet of sorts.”
“We’re eighteen. We’re not old enough to gamble.”
“Then let’s just keep it between us.” I lower my voice provocatively.
“I’m listening.”
“If we win tonight, I get you.”
“Excuse me?”
“If we win the state championship, I get to have you, in the bed of my pickup, to do with what I want.”
“You want me to bet my body?” She raises her eyebrows.
Maybe your heart, too?
“It seems to be the only way you’ll give me the time of day,” I say vulnerably, hoping my humble tone and baby blues will persuade her. It works on all the other girls, but Laney is different. She doesn’t topple that easily. She needs persuading and a challenge.
She sighs, as if considering. “What’s the spread?”
“Spread?”
“Yeah, you know, how much do you have to win by?”
“For a girl who claims she doesn’t like football, you can talk a good game.”
She shrugs. “It’s discussed nonstop in my house. I listen with one ear open.”
She is always surprising me. Since day one.
“Okay.” I mull it over carefully; the last time we played North we won by seventeen and that was with all their starters healthy. Since then, they’ve lost two of their best players to injury: their quarterback and a tight end. “Twenty-point spread.”
Laney’s eyes widen. “That’s a huge number. Are you that confident?”
“Baby.” I put my hand on her leg and run it up her thigh. “Football is what I know. So yes, you’ll be mine tonight.”
T he roar of the crowd is deafening. The smell of fresh cut grass intoxicating. The feel of the ball in my hands exhilarating.
I thrive on all of it. It’s what causes my heart to beat and blood to flow through my veins. It’s my vitality. I have lived football for as long I can remember. My mother says I was born to play. She knew the instant I threw my binky across the room at three months old. She’s always said I was special, and I have always believed her. When I was a freshman, Sports Illustrated did a top ten article on football prodigies in the US, and I was number one. My whole life I have been compared to the likes of Tiger Woods and LeBron James. Descriptions like speed, power, and pinpoint accuracy have followed me everywhere. I have trained at the best football camps in the US with the most well-known names in the NFL. I broke the record for most passing attempts, most completions, and most passing yards my sophomore year. And have continued to crush those numbers into the ground. I was recruited by over fifty colleges and given full rides to all of them. Football is not only my future, it’s my life. I dominate in the arena; no one can touch me.
The cheerleaders are shouting on the sidelines and the announcer’s voice is echoing
Similar Books
