Kay does show up, it’s with a bang—literally. The swinging door from the hall slams into the wall with her entrance. Her strides are the longest I’ve ever seen her take, and I think if it were physically possible, she would have steam coming out of her ears. I throw an elbow back when Trav leans into my side to whisper a similar sentiment.
Kay flops down on the remaining open cushion beside me with a huff, her movements jerky as she pulls the strap of her book bag from her shoulder, aggressively tugging open the zipper, lifting her laptop free, and slamming it onto her lap.
When she stays silent instead of filling the now expectantly watching room in on what has her so worked up, I place my own MacBook on the low table and turn to face Kay, her body falling back against the couch’s arm as I cage her in with my hands braced on either side of her.
Her torso twists my way, but she still refuses to look at me. “Hey.” I tuck two fingers beneath her chin and push until her gray eyes rise to my greens. “Wanna talk about it?”
Her eyes shift down and to the left. “Talk about what?” She tries to brush me off, but I hear the strain in her voice.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Trav props his chin on my shoulder like I’m a pirate and he’s my parrot, stretching an arm out to circle a finger inches in front of Kay’s nose. “Whatever it is that has you making…that face.”
I can’t see her because she’s behind me, but I know it’s Em who is the one to snort.
“Smooth, bro,” Grayson coughs under his breath, joining in with Em’s laughter.
“Whatever G.” Trav finally remembers a little thing called personal space and backs up. “I’m just saying the look Short Stack is currently sporting is fiercer than Kev’s when he’s staring down a quarterback.”
Kay blinks, the tempting lips I still haven’t gotten a chance to kiss parting as she brings her attention to Trav. “You called him G.” It’s cute that she’s surprised by this.
“You’re my sis, he’s your bro. That’s what he goes by in this family, so why not?”
Trying to bring the conversation back around to what I need to know before I blow a gasket, I cup the side of Kay’s face, running a thumb over the still healing cheekbone. She nuzzles into my hand as if seeking solace in my touch.
“My number has found its way into the hands of the few more…persistent reporters. I’ve been fielding calls from—and by fielding, I mean hanging up on—them for the last two hours.”
“The fuck?” I rear back. A part of me can’t blame the press and Instagram followers for their obsession with my girl; she’s hot, charming—when she wants to be—and her and E’s history makes for one hell of a compelling story. Combine all that with how attractive of a couple we make, and I get it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“Would it…” I trail off, the thought popping into my mind and blindsiding me.
Holy shit! Tell me you aren’t actually considering this, Nova. The evil eye my inner coach is giving me has nothing on what Brantley’s reaction would be.
“Would what, Mase?”
Kay’s soft voice has me snapping back to the present. The instant way her stormy expression eases as she locks eyes with mine is the reason this thought of mine was born. She is the reason.
“Do you think they would lose interest faster if I announced that I’m not going to declare for the draft this year?”
The room freezes like someone pressed the pause button. All activity stops. Fuck!
“WHAT?!” Kay snaps, her earlier fury returning with a vengeance. Shit! This is more the response I expected from Brantley, not her.
My fingers flex around her skull. “I have another year of eligibility left. What if I play it out? I’m less of a story if I’m not a part of this year’s draft class.”
“That’s a naive way to think.” Ouch. In all the times she’s sassed me, I don’t think she has ever blatantly insulted me, but I feel like that’s exactly what she just did. “You’re too good of a football player for that to work.” Her soft smile soothes more than the compliment. “Don’t let this taint all the epic things coming your way. You”—she mirrors my hold, cupping my face—“deserve to live your dream now.”