Football and Ballet - Jason Collins Page 0,6

it was the worst thing in the world to be. The kind of guy who’d trip me in the cafeteria, just because he could, just because it made one of his shitty friends laugh.” I decided to put what I thought was going to be the final nail in the coffin as I said, “So, you know what, Hunter? You’re right. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t laugh at Brandon’s joke, because you’ve probably laughed at a million jokes just like it before. The only difference this time was that you finally got caught.”

“You’re right.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to stand in front of you and pretend like I haven’t laughed at some pretty shitty jokes,” Hunter replied. “And yeah, I should’ve said something as soon as that shit came out of Brandon’s mouth. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hunter.”

“Yeah, I do,” Hunter said. “Because I don’t think any of the other guys like me have ever done it before. And you deserved better than however those assholes were treating you back then. I know I just met you, and you’ve been a total hard-ass since I walked through the door, but I can tell there’s something... nice inside you.”

“What makes you think I’m nice?”

“Because Elana told me how busy you are,” Hunter answered. “But you’re still taking time out of your schedule to help me with this, even when you don’t have to.”

“Yeah, well, it sounds like Elana neglected to mention that I’m getting paid for this.”

“Sure, but we both know it’s not about the money.” Hunter smiled. “It’s because you wanted to help my sister.”

“Okay, less psychoanalyzing me, and more dancing.” I clapped my hands a few times and motioned for Hunter to start spinning again. “One and two and go—”

Hunter complied with the motion, getting into position before he went into his next spin. However, as soon as his foot touched the floor, he wobbled for a few seconds before toppling toward the ground.

And without thinking, I dove down to catch him, keeping him from falling flat on his face against the dance floor.

Hunter landed with his back pressed against my chest, my arms shooting up to catch his sides. Hunter then looked over his shoulder, with that gorgeous smile already on his expression.

“You caught me.”

“Of course, I caught you. I couldn’t let you fall. You could sue the youth center.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“You said it yourself, Hunter. We just met. We do not know each other. Who knows what you’re capable of?”

“You’re just going to keep playing the hard-ass, huh?” Hunter grinned. “I wonder how long you can keep that up until you get tired.”

“Probably longer than you’re able to spin without getting dizzy.”

“Asshole.” Hunter chuckled, his gaze fixed on mine. His laughter then came to a stop as he eyed me up and down, seeming to take in every square inch of my face, my neck, my chest.

And I felt a delighted shiver go down my spine in response.

What the hell?

Was Hunter Perry checking me out?

Wasn’t he as straight as an arrow?

I remembered all the women Hunter had been pictured with as I’d scrolled through those headlines about him, falling out of limos with him, checking into hotels late at night, giving Hunter open-mouthed kisses after his big games. If anything, it seemed like Hunter had earned a reputation as a playboy in the NFL, with casual relationship after casual relationship covered by the entertainment journalists’ pen.

So, no.

There was no way in hell that Hunter was anything but straight.

I must’ve just been imagining things. Between my being flustered about my dance company’s latest choice of ballet and suddenly being responsible for Hunter Perry’s two left feet, I just had too much on my plate, and maybe I was starting to crack.

“It’s getting late,” I said. “We should pick this up next lesson.”

“The spinning?”

“No, the part where you try to master not falling on your ass.”

“Got it.” Hunter chuckled again as he moved away from me, soon rising from the floor. “Baby steps.”

3

Hunter

Patrick McEntire was magnetic.

I hadn’t been talked to like that by someone in years, like I was just a normal person, fully responsible for my own actions and flaws. Patrick wasn’t interested in making excuses for me, and even though he was bossy, it didn’t seem like he was interested in controlling my life.

In fact, it seemed like Patrick wasn’t really interested in my life at all, as he kept our first dance class together mostly professional,