Trick Me Twice - Becca Steele Page 0,42
the rest of the team. Get it out there, you know?”
I stared at him for a moment, processing his words in my brain. Preston was gay? Then I took in the way he was shifting restlessly, his eyes full of apprehension, and I realised I’d been silent for too long. I leaned forwards and placed my elbows on the table, mimicking his pose. Making sure I met his gaze so he could see that I was serious, I said, “I’ve got your back. You want me to tell the team?”
He shook his head. “I’ll tell them. Do you…” His voice lowered, worry threading through his tone. “Do you think anyone will have a problem?”
My mouth twisted. “If they have a problem, they’ll have to fucking go through me. If anyone gives you a hard time, anyone, you come straight to me, okay? And if you want me to be there when you tell them, I will.”
He shot me a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, man. My ex…he, uh. His teammates didn’t take it well when he came out to them. I’d appreciate it if you were there when I tell the others.”
“Consider it done. Most of the boys are sound, but I won’t lie and say it’ll be an easy ride. I’ll be around to deal with anyone who gives you problems, though. We’re a team.” Getting to my feet, I rounded the table and clapped him on the shoulder. “Whenever you want to tell them, I’ll be there.”
After giving me a quick nod, he climbed to his feet, and we headed back inside. “Thanks for being cool with it,” he told me just before we reached the others, then immediately changed the subject. “Speaking of thanks, I never said thanks for organising the party.”
Kian had come to me with this idea of a mass celebration to mark the eighteenth birthdays of three of the football team members—him, Preston, and Ben. Even though his and Preston’s birthdays had already passed, all of us were up for an excuse to party. This one would be right after a football game, too, so either way, we’d have another excuse to celebrate or commiserate. With me and Kian organising, it was going to be the party of the year. “You’re welcome.” Before I could add anything else, the bell rang to indicate the end of our lunch hour.
Everyone split off to go to their respective classes, and I headed down the hallway to English Lit. I’d had to hand in my essay first thing in the morning, and now I’d see if I got to keep my spot as team captain. My stomach rolled. Fuck.
Instead of sliding into my usual seat at the back of the classroom, I found myself sitting next to the window, with an empty chair next to me.
“Um…excuse me. You’re in my seat.” I looked up to see Pete, the guy whose seat I’d taken. Not like we had assigned seats, but he’d been sitting in this exact spot every class so far.
“There’s a free seat at the back.” I lazily threw up my thumb in the direction of my usual table, and he scurried off to the back of the room.
I felt her enter the room before I saw her. I was aware of everything—her soft intake of breath as she saw who was in the seat next to her, the thump of her books as she slammed them down on the table, and the scent of caramel apples as she reluctantly sat next to me.
“Why are you here?” Her voice was annoyed, and it made me smile.
Turning my head, I finally met her eyes. “What’s with the new look?”
“I don’t…what? I don’t have a new look.”
My gaze raked over her, and her breathing quickened.
Reaching out, I threaded a strand of her silky hair through my fingers. “Okay, not a new look. But there’s something different.” I tugged gently at her hair before releasing it, not missing her shiver.
“Why are you here?” she hissed, all fired up despite her body’s reaction to me. “Last night you told me you didn’t want me, and you were—never mind.”
“I was what?” I leaned closer to her. “Angry? Because you falsely accused me of stealing?”
She sucked in a harsh breath. Turning her head, I saw the anger disappear as her eyes met mine, wide and unsure. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
Before I could say anything else, Prof. Patel was in front of us, handing us our essays.
“Looks like I have