Page 6 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

The pennant is to be hidden by the captain of each team on the last day before winter break.

It must be hidden in a building somewhere on campus, cannot be behind a locked door—like a professor’s private office—and it must remain in that location until our rivalry game before the playoffs.

Other than the standard “no destruction of property” and “no breaking and entering” bits, it’s pretty much free rein.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to end our last year at Leighton on a high note by bringing home that damn thing,” Wyatt muses, his face taking on a wistful expression. “Blackmore has captured our pennant every year we’ve been here. It would be a nice change of pace.”

My teammate makes a good point, but there’s just one, itty bitty problem.

“Okay, but if he holds this duty as captain even half as sacred as you do, then what makes you think he’s just gonna hand over this kind of info?” I ask, arching a brow.

Phoenix hums, looking at Wyatt. “He’s got a point.”

“And there’s also the whole we don’t fucking like each other bit.”

“So play dirty.”

I shoot Wyatt a pointed look. “We tried that last year, and look how well it turned out.”

Our right fielder, God love him, thought the best way we could get some intel on the Blackmore pennant was to sleep with the previous captain’s younger sister.

Let the record state, it did not work in the slightest, and when that information got back to Blackmore’s captain, it also landed him a pretty set of black eyes to go with his broken nose.

“That was the dumbest thing we ever tried. You’d definitely have to do something a little more covert,” Wyatt reasons, and I scoff.

“What? Like rifling through his suitcase, hoping he decided to bring it on vacation with us?”

Phoenix makes a buzzing sound. “Against the rules. The pennant has to be hidden in a public building on campus, and it has to stay in the same place once it’s hidden.”

“You could search his phone?” comes from Wyatt.

Phoenix hums. “It’s probably locked.”

“Facial recognition when he’s asleep?”

I frown. “As if he wrote down the coordinates in his notes app?”

Wyatt leans back and sighs, the picture of defeat, before tossing his hand in my direction. “Well, then I guess your only other option is to try seducing the information out of him, T.”

A little zing runs through my stomach at the suggestion, and I swallow. “Did we not just rule that out as the dumbest idea we’ve ever had?”

“Not quite. You’d be going directly to the source, not using someone else as an in-between,” Phoenix reasons, and from the way his brows have lifted, he might actually be considering this as an option.

“One, apart from my drunken lapse of judgment with Cam, still not into guys. And two, just because Madden is, doesn’t mean he’d be into me ,” I point out while ticking off each with a finger.

Rolling my eyes, I continue, “Even if I did go with this idiotic plan, which I’m not, he’d probably laugh in my face. ”

“Well, I can’t speak on how he’d react to you coming onto him,” Wyatt starts, only to shake his head and blow out a dramatic breath. “But from the tension between you two during last year’s rivalry game, I sincerely doubt he’s not into you.”

I scoff, waving him off, but Phoenix is quick to back Wyatt up on it.

“Yeah, I’m definitely with Wyatt on this one. You’re a good-looking guy, T. There’s not a chance in hell he hasn’t noticed.” His eyes take on a weird, daydreamy haze. “I bet the hate sex would be great too.”

Oh, Christ.

My pulse thrums beneath my skin as I bounce my leg and mutter an indignant, “Why are we still talking about this?”

Besides, there’s no chance in hell I’m getting any information out of him when it comes to the Penny Play, regardless of the methods I use.

I’d be lucky to learn his middle name or favorite color by the end of the trip—both of which are wholly less significant than a clue on where he hid their pennant.

Phoenix lets out a long, dramatic sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Always ruining the fun, T. Guess you’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.” He pauses for dramatic effect, shoots me a wink, and whispers, “Make nice with your brother, and maybe he’ll accidentally slip up.”

“Please don’t suggest I use sex as a means for extortion and then immediately call him my brother.” My lips pull back in a grimace, and I shake my head. “That’s just wrong on too many levels.”

“Well, you can always call Cam up and ask him for another go-round instead,” Phoenix teases with a laugh. “Pretty sure he said he’s heading back up to New England to see his family over break.”

“Forget Cam,” Wyatt starts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I still think the better option is to live out your own ‘What are you doing, stepbro?’ fantasy.”

The three of us all burst out laughing; the gut-aching, breathless kind of laughter that makes me wonder if it counts as an ab workout.

“Too much CoD and too much porn, Wy,” I say between chuckles.

But I feel lighter than I did an hour ago, and for that, I’m grateful. Even with their questionable methods to make it happen.

The least I can do is keep my eyes and ears open over break in return.