Not My Match (The Game Changers 2)

He gives me a disarming smile. Underneath the country-boy charm, he’s smooth as silk. “Now, don’t be upset. Jack gave the team ‘the talk’ a while back. ‘Keep your meaty paws off Elena’s sister, or I will demolish you’ is pretty much how it went down.”

I put two and two together fast. No doubt Elena told Jack I’m a virgin; then toss in the broken engagement, and Jack’s trying to protect me, and I appreciate the concern . . . but come on, am I that fragile?

Jesus. What if he told the whole team I’m a virgin? No, no, he wouldn’t, right? If he did, I’m going to . . . my chest tightens with tension. Shaking my head, I shove the idea away. I’m jumping to conclusions.

“I’m a big girl, Aiden. Trust your instincts. Isn’t that what big football players do?” I bat my lashes.

Aiden gives me a surprised glance, one that turns heated, and I smile because yes, the geek knows how to flirt.

“Aiden,” Devon warns.

“What?” he replies, gazing at me.

“Stop eye-fucking her.”

“Shut it, Dev. This is my regular look. We’re having a moment here.”

“Are we?” I ask, my tone dry.

Aiden holds my gaze. “Oh, hell yeah.”

Devon lets out a grunt just as his cell buzzes.

I refuse to look at him. Part of me is enjoying pushing his buttons. I get that he’s Jack’s mouthpiece, but the mere idea of a group of men discussing my love life makes me want to throw a table—or a football player.

Aiden grabs my phone, asks for my passcode, and, once he gets it, types in his number. “Those are my digits. Call me. We can recreate the Fourth of July”—he winks—“or we can watch some good horror movies. Lady’s choice.”

“I love horror but prefer sci-fi.”

His blue eyes gleam. “Hmm. Sci-fi and fireworks in a movie. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

It takes me two seconds. “Independence Day with Will Smith?”

“I like you.” He gives me a fist bump. “Love that movie. Let’s do it.”

I let the hammer fall but soften it with a smile. “I see what you’re doing. You think messing with me would screw with Jack and his season as quarterback. You really would do anything for that first-string spot, wouldn’t you?”

A slow blush crawls up his neck to his face as he grimaces. “I want that position, yes, and it will be mine someday—”

“No time soon,” Devon growls. “Jack’s at the top of his game. His shoulder will be fine in a few weeks.”

Aiden flips him off without even glancing at him. “I also think you’re fucking hot.”

I arch my brow. I’m a tall skinny girl with no breasts, and my nose is a hair too long. Maybe I have good cheekbones and nice blue eyes, but I tend to dress like my mother. The sexiest clothing items I own are a pair of frayed denim shorts and a pink thong I bought on impulse. Neither are appropriate for a serious grad student.

“Yeah, me and you,” Aiden says huskily and spears me with what I’m sure is his most intense, mesmerizing, come-to-me-baby-doll eyes.

Devon throws up his hands. “The bullshit in here is deep.”

“Go check on your waitstaff, Dev. You’re down a few servers tonight,” Aiden quips back.

“What about those twins from the wedding? Won’t they get mad?” I ask Aiden. We’re both ignoring Devon.

Aiden grabs my hand. “I barely remember their names.”

I shake my head, laughing as I disentangle our clasp. “I adore you, but tell someone who believes that lie.”

Aiden clutches his chest. “Come on; you’re not taking me seriously. You were engaged when we first met, and this is my chance. Consider this our meet-cute, and go from there.” He pauses, his tone serious. “I have this event at the mall next week. Something my agent set up. I really hate going alone. You wouldn’t believe the women who throw themselves at me.”

“Sounds awful,” I deadpan.

“You wanna go?”

“Fight off your pantie-throwing fans in the middle of some smelly sports store in the mall?” I pause. “I could be persuaded with food and a good cabernet.”

“Enough,” Devon calls and storms over, his eyes flitting between us, seeming to measure the distance between our faces.

Aiden chuckles and leans back in his chair. “You’re a piece of work, man.”

“What does that mean?” Devon grouses.

Aiden narrows his eyes at him, pushing out his lips, and I can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue.

“Spit it out, Alabama,” Devon mutters.

They seem to share a long look, one with meaning I have no clue about, but I imagine it has to do with the fact that even though the three of them are friends, Devon and Jack go way back, and Aiden is the new guy on the team and ambitious as heck. He wants to be the star quarterback, and Jack’s in his way.