RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,27
field, then watched as Jagger tried to dribble the ball around Slade, only to get it stolen.
I would not clap.
I would not be impressed with Slade’s feet.
Or his abs.
Or the fact that he was easily the best player out there.
Ignore, ignore, ignore. “Watch out!” a voice called. I blinked to the right and saw the ball sailing toward my face.
I ducked just in time and almost face-planted against the chair in front of me.
“Sorry.” Slade jogged over. “My tiny ball must have slipped.”
I glared. “Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
“I bet you’d love to find out,” he countered.
“Yes. I would love to find out and then somehow chain your body to a bed so I can force you into marriage . . . seriously, it’s on my bucket list right next to tea with Satan.”
He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, alright, catlike reflexes.”
I scowled. “I was paying attention to the game.”
“If you were paying attention you would have seen it coming.”
I sobered. “Sometimes it’s hard to call the shots when you don’t realize you’ve been put in a game, Slade.”
His face went from mocking to something else that I couldn’t pinpoint until he started walking away with his head down.
Shame.
I stayed until the end, then tried to sneak out, but my heels were like loud bombs going off against the concrete once I made it off my plastic seat.
“Mack!” Jagger called. “Wait up.”
I forced a smile and crossed my arms. “Yeah?”
He was still shirtless.
Still shiny with sweat.
Still showing absolutely no body fat.
Jagger ran a towel down his chest in what could only be described as slow motion. His grin was the perfect mix of arrogance and beauty, and when he did an effortless I-just-look-this-way hair flip, my jaw nearly came unhinged from my face.
“I know things with Alton are probably still a bit . . . raw.”
Oh good, my favorite topic of conversation. Being abandoned. My stomach clenched so tight I felt like I was going to hurl all over his cleats. It didn’t work with Alton, and apparently I didn’t even know how to do a one-night stand right without the guy assuming I wanted to marry him.
I clenched my hands into tiny fists and waited for the rest of whatever Jagger was going to say, forcing my eyebrows nearly into my hairline so I looked more surprised than sad.
“So . . .” He grinned wide. “I was thinking—it would be fun to go to dinner, just as friends. Like I said, I know things are still new even though it’s been over six months, but maybe you could use someone to talk to other than Slade’s fucking dog. Besides, the only reason you’d be working for that dick is because you can’t stand to be in the same room as the one who left you at the altar.”
You know when you expect one thing? And life throws you something completely different? Something so unexpected and just . . . kind, that you lose all logical control of your emotions?
It happened.
Rather than lie through my teeth like I had been for months.
I let a tear fall.
And then another.
And then I was in Jagger’s arms while I cried softly against his chest. It wasn’t just Alton; it was Slade too. It was the fact that I’d always seen my world with Alton, even though part of me knew it didn’t quite fit, only to have the best hours of my life with a complete stranger who made me feel free—and then realize it was all a farce.
Jagger embraced me like we were best friends, his arms secured tightly around my body as I slowly got control of myself and then pulled away and wiped under my eyes. “Did I just lose my chance at a nice dinner by crying over your potential friendship?”
His clear blue eyes locked on mine. “No, you just made me wish I had been a better friend to begin with.”
“You were Alton’s friend.”
“Ouch.” He sighed. “I wanted to be yours more than his. You’re prettier, and his name is Alton, so that’s already a scratch against him.”
I laughed, tears still in my eyes. “Dinner it is, then.”
“What’s your number?”
I fired it off and immediately heard a buzz in my purse.
He winked. “Just sent you a text.”
“Great.” I beamed, feeling lighter than I had in weeks, just as Slade walked by and purposely bumped into Jagger.
“He always like this?” I wondered out loud.
Jagger hesitated a bit, then said, “On the field . . . yes .