Spinning Out - Lexi Ryan Page 0,52

couldn’t get along with the coach at Purdue and mouthed off one too many times during his freshman year. Of course, NCAA rules state that players can’t play the first year they transfer to a new team, so he had to sit this year out. Brogan was worried sick about Sebastian’s move. It wasn’t likely Coach was going to give Sebastian my position, but Brogan’s had always been up for grabs. I told him not to worry about it. I wouldn’t have had half the yards I did last year if Brog wasn’t blocking for me, and anyone who knows what they’re looking at can see that on the film. But now neither of us is playing next year, paving the way for Sebastian to step in and be the hero.

Whatever. Football is the least of my worries. It doesn’t even seem important in the light of everything else. But that doesn’t mean knowing someone can replace me doesn’t gnaw on something in my gut.

There are awkward smiles all around as we find our seats at the dining room table.

Sebastian takes the seat across from me and inclines his chin. “Hey.”

I nod. “Hey.”

His gaze settles on my cast-covered hand resting on the table. “What happened?”

“I got into a fight with a wall. I lost.”

Sebastian grimaces. “It’s your hand, man.”

I set my jaw and return Sebastian’s worried stare with my cold one.

He shifts his attention to Gwen. “Thanks for inviting us to dinner, Mrs. Woodison.”

She beams at him. “We love having company. You’re welcome anytime.”

Dad opens his napkin and positions it on his lap. “We just want to make it clear that the BHU football program has our full support. Even though Arrow’s not playing this year, we still want to be a part of making the season a successful one. That means exactly what it did last year—the boys can watch film in the theater room anytime they want, and of course the team will get my usual monetary support.”

I want to kiss your ass and make sure Arrow still has a spot on the team when he comes back, I mentally translate.

I eye the door to the kitchen, willing Mason to reappear. He’s my ally tonight. Chris is visiting his mom in Texas and couldn’t come, though I don’t think I’d care for watching my QB bond with my replacement.

Gwen follows my gaze and shifts uncomfortably. “The appetizers should be out anytime,” she says. “I apologize for the delay.”

“Can I interest anyone in a drink?” Dad asks, scanning the table.

Sebastian takes a drink of his water. “I’m good, sir.”

“I have a nice Syrah or a single-malt scotch,” Dad offers. “Arrow won’t be drinking tonight, of course. He lost that right.” He laughs awkwardly, and I want to punch him in the face just so I don’t have to hear it anymore. “What do you say, Coach?”

Mason emerges from the kitchen and takes the spot beside me, but I don’t have the chance to be relieved before Mia and Bailey follow behind him, trays of appetizers in their hands.

“There they are,” Gwen says. Her cooing tone is contrary to the sharp disapproval in her eyes.

Mia avoids my gaze as she places the tray in the center of the table. “Escargot wrapped in bacon,” she says, pointing to her tray. Bailey settles her tray next to it, and Mia points to it and says, “And bacon-wrapped dates.”

“Woodison pork all around, of course,” Bailey says with a smile that’s a touch too forced.

“Can I get anyone anything before I serve the entrees?” Mia asks. Her eyes scan the table and freeze when they land on Sebastian. I swear I can see her tense. “Sebastian?”

He grins and shamelessly slides his gaze over her, from her white button-up shirt to her black skirt and down her bare legs. “Hey, Mia.”

My stomach knots. This fucker isn’t just taking over my position on the team; there’s something proprietary about the way he looks at Mia. And she’s looking at him like . . . like she has a secret and he’s holding it for her.

“Do you know each other?” my father asks, directing his question to Sebastian.

“Not really,” Mia says at the same time as Sebastian says, “Sure do.” He hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she walked into the room, and he narrows his gaze now, his lips quirking.

“Mia’s our live-in help,” Gwen says. “She’s made herself quite useful since my Katie was born.”

I don’t trust myself not to glare in Gwen’s general direction,

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