Not My Romeo (The Game Changers 1)

Devon laughs. “I’d love to see you in tights, Jack.”

Jack doesn’t smile. “Yeah. Cool. Love that movie. How many people come to this thing?”

“About two hundred. Not a big crowd, but interest is growing. With you here, I imagine it will be covered up with people. Thanks for volunteering.” Topher grins. “Although if I know Timmy, he probably weaseled you into it.”

Jack nods, frowning. Something about him is off.

What part of Topher’s words bothered him?

It isn’t Timmy, because I saw how Jack treats him, with kid gloves and a genuine, if rather bemused, smile on his face.

Is it the idea of a huge crowd of people from Daisy being here to watch him?

But that doesn’t make sense. According to Birdie Wheeler, half the town is already in love with him.

Also, he plays football in front of thousands of people.

Millions watch on TV.

Oh . . . maybe it’s—

“Do you like Shakespeare?” I blurt.

He swivels his head back to me, eyes cool. “English major. Got my degree, even though I could have gone to the draft early. My mom always wanted me to get a degree because she never did.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but I sense deep emotion in that movement. “I did it for her.”

English major. And he graduated for his mom.

“Well, how interesting,” Topher says with a smirk. “Elena is also an English major. She got the library job without a library science degree.”

“I did apply at the high school for a teaching position, but there wasn’t one available. I love the library. It worked out for the best.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “What was your specialty? British lit for me.”

I chew on my lips, and his eyes follow my movement. “Um, American is my favorite.”

“Right, how could I forget? Mark Twain. ‘Go to heaven for the climate, hell for the company.’”

My lit-loving heart pounds. “‘They did not know it was impossible, so they did it.’”

“Nice. How about, ‘If a man could be crossed with a cat, it would improve the man, but deteriorate the cat.’”

I smirk. “Speaking of, I still have a cat if you want him, but he’s more of an outside tom now. He runs around the whole neighborhood.” I rack my brain for another quote. “I got one: ‘The two most important days in your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why.’”

He mulls, rubbing his jaw. “How about ‘Don’t wait. The time will never be just right.’”

“Or ‘Any emotion, if sincere, is involuntary.’ I love that one.” I grin, then remember I’m mad at him.

He huffs out a laugh. “Is this some kind of face-off where we see who knows the most Mark Twain quotes?”

“I can go all night,” I say.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, his lip curling. “Mark Twain battle. I sense a contest.”

“We should do it,” I say.

“I dare you to try.”

“Is that a challenge?” I tuck my hands inside my pockets. They tremble. It’s him. I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind since the penthouse, wondering how he is.

If he’s as lonely as I am.

“Name the time and place, Elena.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the way he’s looking at me, those eyes warming.

And shit, he has no right to say my name like that, as if he’s savoring it.

My eyes stare at his lips, the fullness, the softness mixed with strength—

I look around and realize Topher and Devon are looking at us strangely.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing,” Devon murmurs.

“Just awed by y’all’s memorization abilities,” Topher says. He looks at Jack. “Are you familiar with Romeo and Juliet?”

Jack clears his throat. “Yeah, I’ve been refreshing myself all week.”

I picture him laid up in his bed, sans shirt, turning the pages of the play. Maybe reading glasses on his face. My face feels hot.

This is really going to be a long month.

“Hey, guys,” comes a familiar voice behind me, and I start and turn, my eyes widening at the sight of my sister.

“Giselle? Are you doing the play?”

She dips her head and nods. I haven’t seen her since the library. Mama cooked lunch on Sunday, but she said she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t come.

Wearing a tweed jacket, dressy slacks, and heels, she walks over to us. I guess she came straight from her classes at Vandy. “Mama said Laura mentioned no one signed up to play the role of nurse, and well, I thought I might give it a go. You don’t mind, do you?”

I want to frown but put a smile on. “Of course not.”

But . . .

She’s never shown one iota of interest in the fine arts.

I flick my gaze behind her. “Preston here?”

“No.” She grimaces. “He hates this stuff.”

Right. He never came to any of my plays.

“Well, welcome to the crazy.” I do what any good sister would. I motion her to join our circle, introducing her to Devon and Jack.