“Hey,” Drew said, standing next to Gia by the water table, his large hand brushing her arm when she offered him a bottle of water.
“How’s it going?” She wouldn’t flirt back, but there was no need to be rude. Drew was nice enough. He was even cute, in a meathead, football jock sort of way. But he wasn’t Gia’s type.
“Good,” he started, stretching those large arms over his head before he rested his hand on his hip. They both turned toward Uncle Mike when he blew his whistle, shooting a glare from across the field at his linemen, then to Drew who waved the man off, seeming unbothered by the coach’s warning glare. “Man, he’s protective, yeah?”
“A little.” The smile came easy, but then it always did when Uncle Mike shot for warnings with nothing more than his angry scowls. He was imposing, but not scary. Besides, Gia knew he was all bark, no bite. “I think he will always see me as five years old with pigtails and a pink mini football tucked under my arm begging my brothers to let me play with them.”
“Hmm… Pig tails?” Drew asked, his tone dipping low, as though the image in his head was nothing like the innocent memory Gia described. She heard the amusement disappear, replaced by something she recognized as lust. How many times had she heard that from men who assumed because she was a woman hanging around a bunch of players that she was open game to mess with? Not her uncle’s players, never. But their classmates, even players from other teams all made assumptions. But Drew knew better. At least, Gia thought he should.
She threw a glare at him, eyebrow arching, mouth tightening into a line. “Whatever you’re thinking… don’t.”
He straightened, hands going up in surrender the second she stepped away from him. “No, no…I didn’t mean.”
“I know what you meant.” He opened his mouth, looking stupid, looking a little lost but Gia ignored him, ignored everything but the bottles of water and towels she arranged around the table. “I think maybe you should get back on that field, Lavigne.” She set two rows of bottles near the front of the table, not looking at him when she spoke. “Nothing here for you.”
“Gia…look…” he tried, grabbing for her, nearly touching her shoulder before she moved out of his reach. Then, just as quickly as she moved, a spiraling football landed in the center of Drew’s gut, catching him by surprise. He released a muffled wheeze, all breathy gasp and coughing grunt before he doubled over, trying and failing to catch his breath.
She wanted to laugh. In her head, it was damn funny anytime some privileged jock got his ego deflated, but Gia was smoother than that. She could be composed. But, she was damn nosey and moved her attention away from Drew, hunched over, holding himself around the middle and scanned the field, watching the players as they laughed, her uncle as he focused on a group of linebackers set off to the side of the field, oblivious to Drew and his small predicament. Then, Gia spotted him, that big, beautiful smug idiot who rejected her. She’d spent most of the day steadily avoiding him. Hadn’t even glanced his way, but across that field, one look told her all she needed to know about who’d leveled that ball at Lavigne.
Luka gave Gia a mild grin, only one side of his mouth arching up, and his cheek dented deep with a dimple, his gaze moving to Drew as the guy coughed and wheezed. Gia shook her head, a little disbelieving how amused Luka looked. How easy it all seemed to him, to control his movements as he waved to one of his teammates, motioning for another ball which he caught without taking his attention from Drew or Gia who leaned against the table next to him.
Gia cocked an eyebrow, watching Luka as he moved the ball between his hands, that half smile lowering as he looked from Drew, then right at Gia. For a second, she felt nervous again, still a little humiliated. Then Luka frowned, spotting how Lavigne straightened, rubbing his stomach before he reached for Gia, like he expected her to lend him a hand.
Luka’s half grin disappeared and the rush of humiliation left Gia as he gripped the ball, his long fingers digging into the laces before he flung the ball back at Drew, knocking it into the guy’s shoulder.