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“Cole, are you planning to get your ass to the field so we can finish this game, or do we have to do all the work?”
Tingles go down my spine at the sound of his voice. I bite the inside of my cheek, my gaze moving to the man jogging toward us. He pulls the helmet off, and damn, he shouldn’t look this good all sweaty like that, but somehow, he does.
I watch as he lifts his free hand and runs it through his hair, messing the blond strands. Seriously, it’s annoying how good he looks.
“Dude, I didallthe work. Who do you think makes you look good out on the field?”
“I don’t remember it that way.” Prescott lifts his shirt and wipes away the sweat from his forehead, his defined abs glistening under the late afternoon sun. One, two, three,fourpairs of squares appear from beneath the dark cotton.
“Of course you don’t.” Nixon rolls his eyes and points his finger at him. “He’d be the one.”
You hate sweat.I remind myself. He lets the jersey drop back in place, but it clings to his body, leaving a patch of skin out in the open.
Doesn’t mean I would mind licking it off his skin.
“Jade?”
I blink, looking up to find two pairs of eyes, one dark, one light, watching me. “What?”
“The one you need to shoot?” Nixon reminds me. “They’re doing a comeback piece on Prescott. There’s also the fact that he’s just been named co-captain,” Nixon snorts. “As if he needed more reason to be full of himself.”
“Shut up, Cole.”
“Of course they are,” I mutter, glancing at the man in question because that’s just my luck.
Surprise flashes on his face. “You work for the newspaper?”
“No, one of my classmates does, but she had an emergency and asked me to cover for her. Trust me. If I knew it was you, I would have told her to ask somebody else.”
“Cole! Wentworth!”
At the sound of their names, both guys turn around almost instantly, standing at attention. Coach has his hands crossed over his chest as he glares in our direction, the rest of the team standing behind him and giving us curious looks.
“Are you here to play football or chat up the ladies?” Coach yells from his spot on the field.
“Play football, Coach,” they both say in unison.
“Then why the fuck are my two star players standing on the sidelines? Get your asses out here.”
They run toward the field, joining their team. I snap a few more photos of the team as I watch them work until Coach blows the whistle and calls off practice.
The guys chat as they get off the field, grabbing their stuff from the sidelines. I scroll through the photos, making sure Vicky will have something to use when Nixon and Prescott join me once again.
“All done?”
“I just have to get a few of Prescott on his own, and I think it should be good.”
Prescott groans, “Seriously?”
Nixon slaps him over the shoulders. “Good luck, mate.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yup.” Nixon turns around but doesn’t slow down. “Yas is having a special surprise for me when I get home. Can’t disappoint the missus.”
“Of course not.”
Nixon laughs, “Don’t be a sore loser, Wentworth.” He turns to me. “Go easy on him, Smalls.”
