Sacking The Player

“No, I was down in Florida for the summer, I had no clue,” he tells me. I wonder what he was in Florida for?

Adams sneaks a fry off my plate, and I glare at him. “Did I say you could eat that?”

“Uh,” he mumbles with the fry in his mouth.

I snatch my plates close to me and look at him. “Mine,” I growl.

His hands go up and he sits back against the booth. “Won’t touch it again, promise. So uh, how do you two know each other?” He questions.

“Dance. The Gym,” Tate and I both say at the same time.

He looks at me in a panic. What? He doesn’t want his friends to know he’s in dance?

“I ain’t lying for you, buddy,” I tell Tate. I look back to the guys. “His coach wanted him to take some ballet classes. I’m teaching him, so he’ll be better on the field.” I shrug.

Big Tex burst out laughing. “Oh man, wait until the other guys find out about this.”

Tate grumbles.

“Dude, lay off. I’m in dance. The scrimmage last week? I was amazing all because of dance,” Adams boasts.

“Yeah, and I’m being tutored in dance by some hot chick named Kendra,” Bucky says speaking up, not looking ashamed at all.

“Oh uh.” Big Tex looks ashamed.

“If you need extra help, my schedule is open on Tuesdays, I can help you.” I smile at him.

Tate stiffens beside me. “No, if your schedule is open on Tuesdays, then I want the extra day.”

“Yeah no, I see you enough as it is. Maybe Big Tex here can find time away from his womanizing and hang out with me?” I smile over at him and give him a wink.

“Yeah. I can do that.” Big Tex nods enthusiastically.

“No,” Tate growls.

“What about you, Bucky boy, you’re awfully quiet.”

“Bucky boy?” he asks amused.

I shrug. “No one is just named Bucky, that’s weird. So, it’s Bucky boy from here on out,” I declare, throwing my arms wide, almost smacking Tate in the process.

“I’m not getting involved. I’ll just keep sitting here quietly waiting for my food.”

I give him a glare. “Fine, be a lonely loner,” I grumble. “Can’t believe Bucky boy here doesn’t want to be my friend, I’m awesome.”

Tate chuckles. “Bucky doesn’t really like anyone, but he makes the exception for us.”

“Anyways, let’s ignore Sticks,” I tease pointing at Bucky, I think that name suits him more, that name makes him laugh, and I give him a wink. “Big Tex? Adams? You guys want that extra lesson on Tuesdays?”

“I said no,” Tate protests loudly.

“Listen up, buddy. You can’t tell me what to do. We’re not together, we’re not even friends. You’re someone I’m helping for payment so you are good at football. That’s it.” I suck down my drink.

The guys all chuckle and Tate glares at me. “Listen up, Twinkle Toes. We’re friends, best friends, for now, but soon, you’ll be mine. Under me, letting me taste you, touch you, and you will love every minute of it,” he says it so quietly, but I know every person at the table heard it. “So no to you spending alone time, anytime, unless I’m with you with other guys.”

My face goes red, I know it, because I can feel the heat. The guys cough awkwardly.

“Fine, I’ll just come over later, and you can hang in your room while I hang with Tex,” I snap.