was wider than his brother’s, broader at the tip. But Luka’s smile was easier than Kona’s and his lips were fuller—the bottom plumper than the top. He wore a short beard over his striking face and his body was lither than the other defensive linemen, though he was still large, his shoulders wide, his thighs heavy with muscle.
It was only someone clearing their throat behind her that had gotten her to step back from Luka that day on the practice field, something he seemed to only half notice. Luka had glanced over her head, then grinned down at Gia, nodding once before he walked onto the field.
“Forget about it, darling,” Kona had warned Gia as he took the water bottle from her hand while she blinked her focus away from Luka and up at his twin. “He’s alright, I guess, not as pretty as me, but he’s a pain in the ass.” Kona offered her the bottle and smiled. “Besides, your uncle threatened our lives if we so much as look at you.”
Gia had rolled her eyes, then glanced at Kona, eyebrows pushed together. “You’re talking to me.”
“I’m hella braver than these punks.”
Gia shared Kona’s laugh then watched the man run out on the field, joining his twin and their teammates as they ran drills. She hadn’t heeded Kona’s warning and as she stood on the sidelines, shifting glances over to where Luka stood next to his brother, then over the sweaty, tired faces of the CPU players, Gia couldn’t help but return her attention back to Luka.
“Get over it,” she told herself, blushing furiously when two defensive linemen turned toward her, both looking confused, as though they’d heard her but hadn’t caught her meaning. She recovered by offering them water which they both turned down.
One more glance at Luka as he ran out onto the field and Gia got back to her job, hustling over to Mitchell and the other offensive linemen when they ran off the field.
Luka and Kona worked side by side, blocking, shifting Auburn’s offense away from the goal and by the end of the game thoughts of Luka, and Kona’s teasing warning got lost in the hustle of the last whistle and the clean-up Gia and the other staff had to manage as the teams and fans cleared away from the stadium.
She got lost in her job, brushing back the half smirk on Luka’s face when he and Kona left the field, telling herself he hadn’t nodded at her, hadn’t looked her way at all. She knew for certain her name hadn’t left Kona’s mouth like a tease the same second Luka glanced toward her as she worked her way through the monotony of collecting the bottles and returning them to the equipment manager. It was all her imagination; she was sure of it. Gia had repeated that to herself with every step she made before she met her dormmate Claire and friend Mimi back at their room.
“Bout time,” Claire announced, hustling Gia into the bathroom. “If it weren’t for me, you’d keep that stupid hat on all the time.” She jerked the Blue Devils ball cap off Gia’s head and proceeded to fix the disaster Gia’s hair had become after her quick retreat from the stadium.
“I should just go to bed,” she told Claire, shaking her head when Mimi presented a thin, quarter sleeve crop top sweater and low-rise jeans, an outfit Gia guessed Mimi wanted her to wear. “No,” she tried, but was utterly ignored as they fluttered around her, managing to get her as far away from her water girl aesthetic as possible.
“There,” Claire announced a half an hour later when she and Mimi had managed to make Gia looked like a low-rent version of J-Lo aka her Jenny from the Block cover, hair back in a messy ponytail, makeup subtle but nice. “You’ll do.”
Forty-five minutes later, the girls were at the football team house, beers in hand as they circulated in the large backyard with the rest, it seemed, of the student population.
The weather was warm for November, particularly so close to Thanksgiving, but there was still enough of a breeze that the light jacket Gia insisted on wearing didn’t make her look half as silly as the crop top she’d been forced into. Still, she felt awkward, and a little on display with part of her flat stomach exposed and the tight fit of Mimi’s top stretching across her chest.
“I look stupid,” she whined to her friends, making Claire stop