Page 17

“So make it clear,” he says.

I shake my head, signaling my friends to move on. “One drama at a time.”

“Speaking of drama,” Reeve says, sitting back in his chair. “I heard something about Ruby and White?”

I look at him. “Where’d you hear that?”

“White who?” Cash asks.

“Brad,” Reeve answers.

Cash laughs. “No fucking way!”

“Who’s talking about Ruby and White?” I demand.

“You barely let us look at Ruby,” Cash says, “and now you’re letting douchey Brad White sleep with her?”

“They’re not sleeping together,” I snap.

Cash puts his hands up. “Okay.”

There’s a too-long pause before Reeve says, “Brad’s decent. He’d back off if you told him to.”

“Why would I tell him to?”

“Because no one wants their teammate pawing their female friend.” Reeve smirks. “And because look how heated you’re getting.”

“I’m not heated,” I lie, surprised at just how heated I actually am. “I just don’t want to hear him bragging about fucking her.” My head hurts with the effort it takes to push away the mental image that threatens to surface.

Reeve looks skeptical. “So you’re okay with them being together?”

“She can do what she wants. At least he’s got his shit together, right?” White Bread’s next level compared to the dirtbags Ruby’s usually a magnet for. Maybe he can take care of her the way she deserves. “Anyway, who’s talking about them?”

“No one, I just heard someone say they went out. Nothing interesting, man.”

“Good, ’cause if White’s running his mouth about something that didn’t happen, I’m killing him.”

Reeve nods. “Everybody knows that, Lor. Nobody’s talking about her. Relax.”

I force my shoulders back. “I am.”

They’re not sleeping together yet—I’m almost sure—but I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that they will. And I guess if I had to pick someone on my team for her to be with, Brad’s among the least offensive guys, but I’d rather it not be someone from my team at all. I’ve dealt with her dudes showing up to parties or getting drinks with us here and there, but I’ve never played side by side with one of them. And that’s exactly what’s about to happen. Maybe not coming back from this injury wouldn’t be all bad.

And maybe having Ruby to myself all day and night for a few days wouldn’t be bad either. Especially if it means not having to wonder what she and Brad are up to.

Reeve and Cash are both looking past my shoulder and wearing identical half smiles that tell me exactly what they’re staring at. Girls.

I turn to look just as two girls in short red soccer shorts and Shafer soccer shirts walk by the table. I know their names but can’t remember them. Both have those nice, muscular thighs I love on women.

“Ladies,” Cash says appreciatively.

“Hi,” they chorus at the same time. Then the shorter one catches my eye over her shoulder and adds, “Hi, Lorenzo.”

I give her a nod and a smile.

“Okay, stud,” Cash says when the girls are gone, leaning on the table. “You have girls of every size, color, and IQ level rubbing their hands together at the idea of playing nurse for Lorenzo Rossi. Who do you want to spend a week with?”

Put that way, the answer, of course, is obvious.