Play With Me (2 page)

I downed the
drink in three seconds, already standing. “Nope, I’m ready.”

He shook his
head, but smiled, and let me walk in front of him.

“See you
tomorrow, Anthony,” Barbie cooed.

I ignored the
rising heat of jealousy and resisted the urge to glare at her over my shoulder.
Instead, I counted the tiles on the floor to the exit. One, two, three…

“How about it,
Matthews?” Ryan Hunter said as I passed him. “Will you opt for the team or
not?”

I stopped,
stunned that he was serious about it. My eyes fastened on the easy smile he
cast me. “I—”

Tony’s hands on
my shoulders gently pushed me forward. “You shouldn’t tease her. She’s just not
made for soccer.”

My heels dug into
the ground. Not because he tried to save me from answering, but because of
her
snortling laugh behind me. “Know what?” I turned to face Tony with a determined
glare. “I think I’ll just give it a shot.”

“You’re shitting
me.”

That didn’t
require a reply, but I raised my brows at him anyway.

“Cool, so you’re
on the list. We meet at ten on the field.”

I turned to
Hunter’s amused tone and gave him a polite smile. “I’ll be there.”

A ball cap
shadowed his face as he lowered his chin, but I could feel his gaze skim down
to where my cut off jeans ended then travel slowly farther down my naked legs
and back up. “Bring shoes.” He smirked and winked at me.

This sent a
shiver skating down my neck. Tony shoved me out of the café before I could
figure out why.

We walked most
of the way in silence, until we were close to home and I exploded right in his
face. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“What?” He
looked at me baffled like a toddler who was robbed of his sucker.

“You let that girl
insult me and didn’t say anything.”

“You had
everything under control. And she didn’t really insult you.”

“Oh, right.
You
did! You called me an elephant.”

Tony took my
hand and pulled me with him. “You know it wasn’t meant like that. I don’t see
why you’re throwing a fit now. You never liked soccer. When did that change?”

“Today. Now I
love
it.”

“Yeah, I can see
that. So badly that you want to be a player.” He rolled his eyes. “Please, tell
me you’re not doing this because of Cloey.”

I’m doing it
for you, idiot.
But it would have taken more than a
crazy afternoon to tell him that. I gritted my teeth. “The girl can get lost in
her closet full of Barbie dresses.”

Suddenly, his
arm was wrapped around my shoulders, and he pulled me close to his side as we
walked on. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of her.”

“We have been best
friends since we grew out of our diapers,” I moaned, being slightly comforted
by his embrace.

“And I promise
we’ll still be when we need them again.” His laugh rocked me with him. “Cloey is
just a girl who likes to play soccer. But you’re the only girl I know who can
watch E.T. without bursting in tears.”

Even though
there was this obvious note of admiration, I couldn’t help but feel a chill
sneaking around my heart the way he said it. Like I was one of the guys and not
a
delicate girl like Cloey.
I wiggled out of his embrace, and a snort
escaped me.

Tony quirked his
brows. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you mad at
me?”

“No,” I
grumbled.

He waited a
second, eying me with skepticism. “O
kay
. Is this one of those moments
where you say
no
but actually mean
yes?”

“No.”

He slapped his
hands to his face then slowly dragged them down, glancing helplessly at the sky.
“You know I don’t speak this language. Just tell me your problem.”

“There is no
problem!” I ran up the path to my house, slamming the door behind me.

CHAPTER

2

AT NINE THIRTY
the following morning, I answered the door and found Tony outside. Hands braced
on the doorframe and head hanging, he cast me a sheepish grin as he looked at
me from under those incredibly gorgeous lashes.

“Still mad?”

I swallowed. The
endless speech I had prepared for him the previous evening—including words like
ignorant, idiot, and dumbass—had slipped from my mind. “Never again call me an
elephant,” was all that came out in a low grumble.

“Promise.” The
silly boy pouted and even crossed his heart.

I smiled. “We’re
good then.”

Tony’s metallic
green mountain bike leaned against our low picket fence. I grabbed mine from
the shed, and we cycled to the high school soccer field together. Close to
fifty girls and boys from tenth to twelfth grade had gathered in front of one
of the goal posts. Someone was handing out numbers as we joined them. Already a
member of the team, Tony didn’t have to participate in the tryouts. But I lined
up to get mine.

“Forty-seven…Matthews,”
Ryan Hunter shouted to Susan Miller, who wrote down names on a list. He gave me
the sticker which I was supposed to pop on my chest and smiled. So far, I hadn’t
seen Ryan without his ball cap, except on rare occasions, and then from far
away, too. But today, the sun played in his dark hair that fell devilishly over
his forehead, giving him a whole new appearance. His unexpected good looks took
me unaware, and he caught me staring. His matter of fact tone changed to a sly
rumble. “Good luck, Matthews.”

When everyone
got their numbers, he raised his voice over the chatting crowd. “Okay, everybody.
For a little warm-up, I want you to run three laps around the field then come
back here.”

Panic kicked me
in the gut. “Is he kidding? Three laps?”

“Don’t say you
already regret opting for the team.”

I hated Tony’s
I-told-you-so
chuckle as he dragged me from the trimmed lawn and started jogging next to me. Swallowing
my retort, I tried to match his pace. Impossible of course, when one of his
strides measured two of mine.

Shit, one lap
seemed like ten miles. Screw Hunter and his warm-up. By the time I was done, I
collapsed on the grass, hearing nothing but my own erratic breathing. Thank the
Lord, I had a chance to catch my breath as forty-six candidates attempted to
score goals before it was my turn.

Tony got me a drink
from the water cooler while I mimed a dead frog for several minutes. My mouth
and throat felt like the desert. As he stepped over me, his shadow was a
welcome respite from the sun. I sat up, longing for the cup of water he held out
to me.

But when I
grabbed the plastic cup, my heart sank. “So little?” I held the mouthful of
liquid against the sun, turning it this way and that, seeing if it would miraculously
become more. “There’s something seriously wrong with your head.”

“Not at all.” He
laughed. “But since you can hardly breathe after this short run, more water
would make you sick. In fact, it would be better if you just rinsed your mouth
with this and spit it out.”

I offered him a sneer.
“Can I spit it into your face?” Not waiting for his come back, I downed the
little he granted me. The sip evaporated on my tongue in an instant.

“Matthews! Your
turn!” That was Hunter, and when I turned in his direction, the soccer ball
came flying toward me. Praise my mad reflexes. I caught it before it hit my
churning stomach. Tony pulled me to my feet and gave me quick instructions on
how to hit the ball for best impact.

Yeah, right. As
if I really wanted to know that. I placed the ball on the ground then kicked it
toward Frederickson who stood in the goal. It dropped to the lawn several feet
in front of him then rolled on as if out for a relaxing stroll before it
touched his left shoe.

My beam at Tony
was full of faked enthusiasm. “Hey, what do you know, I got the direction
right.”

“Come on,
Matthews.” Ryan came jogging toward me with the ball under his arm. “I’ve seen you
kick Mitchell’s butt harder than that.”

Beaten and
exhausted, I was ready to capitulate, but when he offered me the soccer ball, his
lips curved to a mocking smile, which prompted me to prove him wrong. I
accepted the challenge.

He planted the ball
in front of me, but then he had me taking several steps back. “Now take a short
run and put a little more power in your thrust.”

“Ah no, don’t
let him make me do that,” I begged Tony and grabbed his shirt in growing
horror. “We both know I will just trip over the damn thing.”

The boys
laughed, and Tony pried my fingers loose from his collar. “No, you won’t. Tell
you what, if you hit Frederickson straight in the chest, I’ll buy you a
chocolate decadence ice cream sundae. Deal?”

Ice cream? If
there was the right incentive… “Deal.” I started forward and kicked hard,
aiming for the redhead guarding the goalie net. The soccer ball dropped neatly
in Frederickson’s arms.

“Well done!”
Ryan yelled. Then he sprinted back to the low desk where Susan took her notes
and called Sebastian Ramirez to try his luck.

Unspeakably
proud, I turned a smiling face at Tony. But my smile got lost the moment I
glimpsed Barbie girl standing with him.

Hands laced
behind her back, she rocked on her heels in front of him. Her boobs pushed out
so far, she could have staked him in the heart. “Will you be at Hunter’s party later?”
she asked him in a sickly sweet voice.

I gulped. Ryan
Hunter’s parties were legend. I could only rely on the gossip in school of
course, but rumor had it his father was friends with Chief Berkley, and so Ryan
could turn up the music to a maximum all night. Beer flowed in endless rivers,
and he even had his own pool table. The closest I had been to his house was when
we drove by to get to the library, but it looked big enough to bear
several
halls. Getting an invitation to one of those parties meant stepping up into the
cool league
.

Not that I cared
about hanging out with jerks like Cloey—yuck. But Tony had been to many of his
parties, and he never told me much about the events behind those doors. That
alone sharpened my curiosity.

He would go
tonight for sure. The fact the Barbie Clone would be there too had my heart slipping
to my pants. I put up a nonchalant face when I actually felt like bawling and
trudged over to the water cooler to get a drink larger than the fly pee Tony
had brought me after the warm-up.

The afternoon
dragged on with more qualifications that involved passing the ball back and
forth, zigzagging over the field with short kicks, and finally a count of how
often one could kick the ball without losing it. I shot amazing two and a half.

This was it. I
was done with soccer. May the ball rot in hell and the players die of thirst. I
didn’t give a damn if I made it onto the team or not. Playing ball in the scorching
sun was for morons anyway.

I wiped the
sweat off my face with the towel Tony had brought, then stuffed it back into
his backpack, and stomped off.

“Hey, where do
you think you’re going?”

“Home.”

Tony caught up
with me. “You can’t. Ryan hasn’t announced the new players yet.”

“Like I care.”

He wrapped his
arm around my shoulders and used my speed to propel me in the opposite
direction. “You don’t want to know if you’re on the team?”

Trying to wiggle
from him, I gave him a hard stare. “Nope.”

“Where’s your
spirit gone?”

“Where has your
eyesight
gone?” I stopped dead. “You saw what a miserable player I make.”

“Ah, I’ve seen
worse. Actually, I’m pretty proud of you. This was the first time you came into
skin-contact with a soccer ball and you almost hit a goal on the second try. All
you need is a little training.”

I found that
hard to believe, but the expression in his eyes told me differently. He meant
it. Confused, I gave him a sideways glance. Unfortunately, Cloey intruded my
view as she came skipping over to us like the tooth fairy. Her perfectly
manicured fingers wrapped around his biceps as she bounced up and down before
him.

“Come, quick. Hunter
will name the players in a minute. He already told me that I was on the team.”

“I’m not
surprised.” Tony let himself being dragged away from me. “You proved in camp
you’re a natural at soccer.”

“Only at
soccer?” She winked at him and skipped away.

My molars
suffered from the hard grinding I did. The thing was I needed to become a
member of this team, badly. How else could I fend off this bimbo?

Ryan Hunter held
a list in his hands as he stepped in front of the expecting crowd. “We need
eleven new players. I’ll call out the names of those who made it onto the team.
If yours is among them, well done. If not, I’m sorry but hope you will try
again next year. You’ve all shown great enthusiasm today.” He cleared his
throat and reeled off the new players. “Stevenson. Jones. Summers—”