I swallowed. “Right. Which is… what again?”
“We’ll make our big reveal on Chart Day. We’ll start by walking into the stadium holding hands before practice, get the rumor mill going. The team will be buzzing with high energy since everyone finds out who makes the team and at what rank.”
“And then, in the cafeteria after practice, we… make a scene.”
He nodded. “We make a scene.”
“Because I run over to you and… kiss you.”
Clay’s smirk was incorrigible, and I swatted his arm.
“I’m so glad this amuses you,” I said with a glare.
“I just find humor in how you can barely say the word kiss.”
I cracked my neck, holding my shoulders back and refusing to admit to him that I’d only had a couple of kisses in my life — none of which rocked my world — and that this entire thing made me want to crawl into a hole and hide.
I could do that. It was an option. I could call this whole thing off right now and save myself the embarrassment.
But something strange happened after I left Clay that night at the coffee shop.
I realized something I hated to admit.
I wanted this.
It was outrageous, and would likely fail, but even the possibility of it working in a way that got Shawn to not only notice me, but take an interest in me?
It was too intoxicating of a fantasy to pass up.
So, if my role in all this was to make a scene so Maliyah would notice Clay was moving on?
I’d play my part.
Although, the fact that he thought I could make a girl like her jealous was a little ridiculous in its own right.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, ignoring that bit of insecurity niggling at my chest. I’d have plenty of time to let it keep me awake later. “So, you stand over there, pretend like you’re in line or whatever.”
I pointed by my desk, and Clay took his position, watching me with curious eyes.
“Alright,” I said, wringing my hands. “Here it goes.”
“Okay.”
Clay waited, and I just stood there, rolling my lips together and willing my feet to move.
“Here I come.”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
After another long hesitation, he opened his mouth to question me, and I launched before he had the chance.
It was a quick five strides before I leapt, and I squeezed my eyes shut tight at the prospect of him dropping me or being knocked off center by my clumsiness. But Clay caught me with ease, his arms coming around my waist as my legs locked around his. My breath caught with the force, hair falling into my face a bit and glasses sliding down the bridge of my nose.
I pushed them back up slowly, breathing heavily as I catalogued every place my body touched his — my arms around his neck, my chest pressed against his, my thighs squeezing at his hips.
And between my legs, something foreign tingled where his stomach rubbed against me.
Panic zipped through me as I scrambled out of his arms. “Okay. Got it.”
“Don’t you want to try the kiss?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be a brat.”
“What?” He feigned innocence, throwing his hands up. “I think you’d feel more comfortable if you tried it now, when no one is around.”
“I’ll give you a nice long peck and then scream you made it! to seal the proud girlfriend thing.”
Clay held up a finger and waved it side to side. “Not just a peck. No one is going to be convinced by that. They’d be more apt to think we’re brother and sister than a couple.”
“Fine,” I ground out. “A little tongue. But just a quick sweep, capisce?”
He cocked a brow. “What are you, an Italian mobster now?”
I waved him off. “I need to get back to work. And you need to get back to practice. I think we’re fine here.”
Clay smiled, conceding and heading for the door, but he paused at the frame, something slumping his shoulders before he turned back to me.
“Thank you,” he said, something thick in his throat with the words. “For doing this.”
The moment of softness from him caught me off guard, but I laughed it off, shrugging. “Hey, it’ll be me thanking you when you land me my first real boyfriend.”
The second the words left my lips, I balked — the shocked expression on my face mirroring Clay’s.
“First boyfriend?” he echoed.
I didn’t have the chance to answer before Charlotte swung through the door of her office, which was connected to mine, and started rambling off about twenty things she needed from me.
I shoved Clay the rest of the way out the door without acknowledging his question, and once the door was shut behind me, Charlotte swept in.
“Are you listening?”
I snapped up straight, grabbing my notebook off my desk. “Following. And I have an update on the auction, too.”
She eyed me cautiously, lifting a brow at the door I had just been guarding before she shrugged like it wasn’t worth her time to ask any questions. Then, she turned and slipped back into her office, me on her heels as she continued on with our list.
And I somehow managed to pay attention despite how my heart raced in my chest.
Clay
“You ready for this?”
Giana was wringing her hands together in front of the stadium, doe eyes shifty as they looked around us like she was worried someone would overhear. The morning sun illuminated all the different colors in those eyes, ones I’d never noticed before — a strange blend of turquoise and gold and green.
Her fear of being seen was unwarranted. Most everyone was already inside, getting warm and trying to work out the anxiety from what this day held for all of us.
Depth Chart Day.
“You can back out,” I said.
“No.” Giana answered as quickly as I’d suggested, shaking her head and steadying her shoulders. “I’m fine, I just…” She bit her lip. “Look, I believe you when you say you’re going to help me. That makes sense. I don’t know how to flirt, let alone date, or get a guy who doesn’t even know I’m alive to want me.”
She was all nerves, her hands trembling a bit as she stared down at the chipping polish on her nails.
“But me, helping you,” she said, shaking her head. “Making someone like Maliyah jealous?”
She didn’t finish the thought, just bit the inside of her cheek and looked up at me like it was obvious, like she couldn’t possibly arouse jealousy in anyone.
I didn’t bother to tame the smile that curved on my lips as I let my eyes run the length of her. She’d left her hair down, the tight curls still a little damp from her shower that morning, and whatever makeup she’d done was light enough that all the freckles speckling her cheeks shone through the foundation. Her glasses were red-framed, matching the plaid skirt she wore and the knee-high stockings she’d paired with it. She was completely oblivious to how sexy her legs were, to how seeing that little skirt contrasted with the modest button up fastened all the way to her neck would make any straight man long to undo her, make any woman long to be as effortlessly alluring.
“Trust me,” I said, taking my time as my gaze crawled back up to meet hers. “Maliyah will lose her fucking mind when she sees us.”