Rejected By The Alpha Quarterback

8

HAZEL

The rugby players are still running around the field, fighting to score against the North Carolina coven. It’s quite a heated match. More of a brawl. And it’s so easy to spot Asher James tearing across the field.

His thighs are a work of art in his shorts. They hug his hips nicely, accentuating the delicious curve of his ass. I can’t believe I had that pair of ass in my hands last night.

He jumps high above the players surrounding him and I watch in awe as he snags the ball mid air. He sidesteps one of the coven witches, and races towards the enemy’s side of the field.

With the ball in our team’s clutches, the crowd is going wild with cheers. Rather than making my way back up the bleachers, I infiltrate the herald of cheerleaders.

In Asher’s sweatshirt, I bounce on my feet and yell at the top of my lungs.

“Keep going Asher! Score for us, baby.”

I don’t think he hears me. The same can’t be said about the cheerleading squad though. They are all gaping at me with similar looks of shock on their faces.

“What the hell?” Nancy is the first one to lose her cool. She breaks formation and marches over to where I’m standing, watching the field. “What the f**k do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” I challenge, facing off against her. “I’m cheering on my boyfriend.”

“Y-Your,” she splutters and she isn’t the only one. “Don’t tell me you’re… it’s not possible… there’s no way…”

She finally takes a good look at the sweatshirt I’m wearing. Sees the number splayed on the back. Her face drains of color.

“You’re dating Asher James?!” She screeches, and it’s at that exact moment that Asher scores. I ignore the head cheerleader’s outburst and cheer at the top of my lungs.

“Yes Asher! Way to go baby.”

He must have heard me this time because his eyes zero in on the squad. He’s staring right at me, eye brows raised in amusement. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can say to him right now. I can only hope he doesn’t blow my cover. That’ll just be bad for me, as well as my reputation.

The game resumes.

“You can’t remain on this side of the field,” Nancy fumes, her way of letting me know she’s not done with me yet. “This spot is reserved for cheerleaders and the last time I checked, you aren’t one.”

“Well, it’s not like my presence is disrupting your routine,” I smile sweetly, reveling the way her lips curl down into a frown. “I’m merely trying to cheer on my boyfriend. How about you pretend I’m not here?”

“What do you think you’re playing at Hazel?” she demands. “There’s no way I believe you’re dating one of our star players.”

“Nancy…” one of the cheerleaders calls for her, interrupting her little tirade. “We need you. Our next routine is about to start.”

Nancy glowers at her. To me, she huffs. “This isn’t over. There’s no way the great Asher James is bringing a loser freak like you to the after game party tonight.”

“We’ll see,” I bite back. A moment later, she leaves me to deal with her squad.

The rest of the game progresses seamlessly. The cheerleaders keep shooting nasty looks my way; looks I pretend not to see.

My eyes are fixed solely on Asher and everything I plan to say to him once the game is over.

It’s going to be fine. He’s not going to blow my cover. I’ll just have to keep a leveled head and speak calmly.

The coven has been in the lead for most of the game and it isn’t until the last five minutes that our team equalizes the field. In the end, it’s Nick Warren that scores the winning goal but I couldn’t care less about that.

All I care about is Asher— and the cunning ways in which I intend to use him.

The field is a chaotic mess. Cheerleaders are racing into the field, hugging and kissing their boyfriends. Even Nancy makes a beeline for Nick. I turn away from them, not needing to witness the very public announcement of their new relationship.

I’ve got my sights set on Asher and as anticipated, he lives up to my expectations for him, appearing in front of me with that s**t eating grin on his face.

He looks like a god, carved in marble and precious stones and if he wasn’t so annoying, I would tell him as much. But all I can manage is a coy smile.

At least, I hope it’s a coy smile.

“Freckles.” He’s dripping sweat. But he still smells so good. “You know, when I said bring my sweatshirt to the game, I didn’t mean for you to wear it.”

“You hate it?” I arch a brow, daring him to say yes. But he doesn’t. If anything, his grin grows wider. He needs a haircut. My fingers tingle with the urge to brush some of it away from his eyes.

“I don’t,” he drawls, smoldering eyes dragging along my tiny form, lingering on my chest. “It actually looks way better on you.”

Any other day, I would cross my arms, shielding my bosom from his wandering eyes. But today isn’t any other day.

Today is the day I make s**t happen.

“You know, I heard you earlier…” his eyes gleam with the start of something bad. I don’t need to look to know that people are staring at us. Wondering since when loser Bell had gotten so close to the resident bad boy. “Baby?” He laughs and it sends a shiver down my spine. “Forgive me freckles. I must have lost the memo somewhere between our last interaction and the game; but since when are you so into me?”

I can feel it. The wary dent in his eyes. His way of saying he’s about to let me down easy.

Not a chance.

“Go with it,” I seethe, closing the gap between us. I stand on my toes, bringing my face within inches of his. “And for the record, I’m not into you.”

I’m grasping the collar of his shirt, and he’s holding my hips, as if to steady me. And then, I throw caution to the wind and kiss him.