Excerpt 1 – Breslin POV

I threw my glove in my locker and grabbed my backpack from the hook. I imagined myself bounding out of the room, but my legs barely managed more than a shuffle.

Still, I must have gotten going a bit too fast because, the next thing I knew, Rally Girl was on the ground, phone skittering across the tile.

And I was the asshole. Shit.

She sat on her rear in the center of the hallway, rubbed her hip and winced. Fuck, is she going to claim I injured her—to get back at me for earlier? I glanced behind me at the locker room door. She can follow me. I looked at the exit door. I’d have to step over her. That would be ridiculous. I had more integrity than that.

Still . . . 

She hissed through clenched teeth.

“You . . .” Dammit, what was her name? I had not been paying attention to anything other than, well, my shirt. On her body. Idiot.

“Well, what’s left of me. Geez, do you eat bricks for breakfast or what?”

Her legs, long and tan and open—they bent at the knee as she rested her elbows on them. And apparently, my body was not too tired to enjoy the view. 

“I’m not hurt and I’m not upset. But maybe you could help me up?” She spoke in a soft voice. Dark eyelashes framed bright blue-green eyes.

I extended a hand and tugged her to her feet. She stood for a breath, two. So close. Connected. Something about the feel of her skin against mine . . . A small, but soothing warmth tingled through the nerves in my hand, sparking a heated rush from my palm to my neck.

A sharp breath, and then her fingers slid from my grasp. I missed the warmth of her.

“. . . maybe offer an apology?” She moved her hand up and down in a phantom handshake. “Sure, Coop. No hard feelings.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. Can this be over? I panted for air and shifted back a step. Her being the hot chick in the water fountain had been one thing. I could have tried to find her, always wondered, haunted the student center in the hopes I’d run into her again.

Her being a reporter meant all of those things went on the “no fucking way, ever” list.

“I don’t know what you’re over there thinking, but, I wouldn’t hurt you. You mean too much to the team.” She frowned. “This was an accident. Not that it didn’t jar me to the bone. You missed your calling as a linebacker.”

I blinked. Opened my mouth. Re-ran the words through my brain. She just said a shit ton of stuff, and what the fuck was any of it about?

“I’m fine, really. You need to stop gushing over me. All the upset is really beneath you.” One eyebrow rose and she crossed her arms. How did she breathe while saying all those words?

“Um, are you OK?” She leaned closer.

I stared at her mouth. “You talk a lot.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “That’s what you have to say? Not a ‘You OK?’ or ‘So sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you with your things?’”

I didn’t catch all of it, but, maybe, if I did the last thing, she’d move out of my way? And I could get food, drink a gallon of water, take a shower? I stunk to hell and back.

Help her with her stuff. I set my backpack down and knelt at her feet. I tried not to think about those short running shorts or how good it’d feel to slide my fingers over the curve of her calf, up to her hip. I shoved her shit into her bag and tossed it to her. I retrieved her phone from the tile floor.

“That’s, um. Yeah. Thanks.” She pulled the device from my grip.

I pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. “You’re OK?”

“Yeah.” She pulled the bag over her shoulder. “Got bowled over by a human freight train, but lived to tell the tale. I pity any catcher that tries to get in your way.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile.

So many words. No wonder she had to write them all down. “But you’re fine?”

“What, do you need me to sign a waiver?” 

Red hazed into my vision. “I’d say yes, but reporters are lying snakes in the grass. Wouldn’t matter.”

“I . . .” Her jaw worked, but no sound came out.

An errant thought about her mouth working flit through my brain.

“But, I–We’re on the same team, Coop.” She pointed at her jersey as if that was “proof”. It sure as hell wasn’t.

“We’re not.” I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder. “But you were right about one thing.”

“What do you mean?”

I leaned down and stared at her head on. She turned a deep dark pink.

“To pity the person who tries to get in my way.”

 

*****

Excerpt 2 – Liv POV

I didn’t want to be there. Or found there. Or have to—ugh, I darted across the hall and pressed my back against the wall. Waited a couple of breaths. I peeked around the corner just in time to see him lean down and—nope. Time to go. I shoved open the exit door, ready to leap through it, intent on my escape. It came to a jarring stop.

“Ow! Fuck.”

I collided with the door and almost fell into Breslin, er, Coop. Oh hell, Coop. I cringed. “Did I hit you?”

“Milline.” He flipped up his sunglasses. I found myself caught in blue eyes with those long, dark lashes. They looked brighter. He was freshly shaved; a small sprinkle of very light freckles dotted one side of his nose. My insides warmed, and still he stared—at me, through me, good God he was beautiful. I swallowed and stepped back.

“Why are you here? You can’t practice. You’re supposed to be on rest, remember? Three days and I know you were counting Sunday but I don’t think you should.”

“Gotta report in. Trainer.”

I blinked. Pinched my arm, nope not asleep. “Wait, you said words to me other than ‘no comment.’ Do we need to go back to the ER? Did you forget who I am, again?”

He grinned that smirky, confident half smile. “Can’t forget my girlfriend. Did you come to cheer me up?”

Wait, what? “You can’t be serious.”

“Never was that good at lying.” He moved through the doorway. I stepped back as he approached. 

“Wouldn’t make sense that I’d lie to my coach.”

My insides went from toasty-melty warm to unbearably hot. “No.”

“And you can’t break up with me so soon after we went the distance in the bedroom . . . all weekend long.” My back hit the wall. He leaned close to my ear. “No one would believe you.”

“Nooo.” Stars sparked in front of my eyes and I had to remember to breathe. “Oh my God . . .” I grabbed his arm. “How long are we going to have to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Ugh, seriously, how long do we have to pretend to like each other?”

He tipped his head to one side and shot me a dark look. “You mean ‘date.’”

“Yes, fine, whatever. How long does it have to be . . . before we can break up?”

His lips pursed together, and then twitched. He covered his mouth with one hand.

“What?”

Heavy-lidded eyes met mine. He put his hand on my waist and leaned closer. My whole body tingled and trembled. 

“You’re on the clock, Coop. Say bye to your girlfriend. She’ll still be here when you’re done.” Eberhardt crunched into an apple as he walked by. 

Coop bent at the knee and met my gaze. I was no doubt turning strawberry-pink. My stomach wobbled as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Two minutes, Cooper!” Coach shouted an instant before the locker room door clattered shut.

“Seriously, how long?” I said with a gasp.

“So, you’re asking me how long before a couple can break up after having sex?”

And I was a tomato. “Yeah.” 

“So you’ve never broken up with someone after having sex?”

 

*****

Alt Excerpt – Liv POV

Coop frowned and pushed the license back at me. “Fine. Go find your interview.” He fixed me with a razor-sharp look. “Try being human.”

I seethed. “Look who’s talking, ass.” 

“Bite me.”

“No, thanks.” I snagged my license. “I hear you’re poisonous.” I called out over my shoulder as I walked away.

Ugh! How could one person be so aggravatingly obnoxious and-and! Irritating, smug, a total jerkwad? I got to the door, yanked on the handle with a huff, but it wouldn’t open. I tried again, but it didn’t budge. I took my temper out on the door for a half second, pulling and jiggling and mentally willing the blasted thing to magically open. 

I turned and puffed hair out of my face. “Do you need to unlock the door or something?”

“I’m on my lunch break.” He gestured at an apple perched on the edge of the counter, then picked it up, studying it. “You’ll have to wait. Or you could leave.” He took a bite. 

Another time I might have admired those thick, juicy lips practically kissing the flesh of that fruit. His tongue darting out of his mouth as he bit into juicy, crispy appleness. My stomach growled. When did I last eat? 

He dropped his head toward his shoulder as he chewed. His eyes had the nerve to twinkle as he stared, and my traitorous skin flushed hot all over. 

I wanted to wring his neck, take his apple and kiss him—into next week. 

Or just wring his neck. Argh!

Instead, I smiled through pressed lips and batted my eyelashes. “I can wait. It’ll give us a chance to spend time together.” I shrugged and took a few steps toward him. “I’ll just pull up a chair and keep you company while you eat.” I grabbed my phone from my purse. “Or, since I can’t meet with Mrs. Schreiber, I could just, you know, interview you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “No comment.”

“Stop being a child and let me in.”

He took another bite of apple and chewed.

God, I hated him. He left me no choice but to do exactly what I’d threatened. I grabbed a chair from against the wall. As soon as I picked it up, a buzzing sound rung out. The click of a lock. Ah-ha! I turned and shuffled toward the door. I grasped the handle, and—

Ca-clack. I pulled. Locked. 

“It only stays unlocked for a few seconds.” He made a “tsk” sound. 

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath. “Would you please open the door?”

“You had your chance.”

Fine. If that was the way he was going to play it. I’d lettered in track in high school as a sprinter. The door was likely on at least a fifteen second delay. I could still win this. 

I dropped my bag on the ground by the door—then unbuttoned the two top buttons on my blouse and adjusted…things. I pulled the scrunchy from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. I spun around, hiked up my skirt to mid-thigh and did my best Dublin Serra, runway model, impression—toward him. “You know, I never properly thanked you.” I lowered my lashes and swung my hips as I walked.

Cooper sat up in his chair. I glanced at the counter and found the button for the door, then met his eyes. “Your shirt, I love to wear it when I’m alone.” Did that sound sexy? I felt rather idiotic, but his gaze traveled lower as I continued my saunter. Maybe this was working? I needed to distract him, just for a fraction of a second. 

He spun his chair to face me. Those powerful thighs in scrub pants curved over the edge of the seat. His legs shifted as I grew closer, moving further apart. His shoes perched on top of the casters. Perfect. 

He met my gaze as I leaned over him, placing one hand on the back of his chair. His pupils dilated. I dipped closer—into his very personal space. “I sleep in it at night.” I breathed against his ear. “Your shirt, Breslin.”

His breath hitched. Something thudded onto the floor. His mouth opened and his tongue licked at his bottom lip. 

“And only . . .” Something magnetic pulled at me, urging me closer. 

My heart thudded wildly. The heat from his skin, his woodsy, masculine scent, the faint sweetness of the apple I could likely taste on his tongue. If I just . . . moved a bit . . .closer. 

So tempting . . .