Chapter 14
fourteen
Ainsley
W hen we get to the field, groups of college teams are spread out all over with their little pop-up tents.
I follow Lachlan, taking photos as we go to help with remembering all of this, because it’s a lot to take in.
Off to the left, Everett and Miles call us over.
“Hey there, Ainsley.”
I smile at Everett. “Hello there, boys. Are you all ready for your big day?”
Miles nods. “We are in our winning era.”
Lachlan sighs heavily. “I’m not wearing a shirt.”
“I think he should be the Lover era. He’s totally in his happy mood.”
He side-eyes me. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“So many ways to make that happen,” Lachlan says with a laugh.
I know which way I’d like to choose, but that’s neither here nor there. I turn to Miles. “I hear that you’re responsible for this brilliant plan to psych out the other team?”
“Is it psychological warfare, or did I just want a way to embarrass Lachlan? ”
“Either one, I’m on board,” I tell him. “Do you have a shirt for me?”
“Of course. Take your pick.”
I look through the pile and opt for Reputation because ... I love me some angry girl power music.
Just then Killian comes over with a bunch of the other guys who are attending community college to play in this league.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the old-man team.” A young kid comes up behind us, crossing his arms and fighting a grin.
Oh, this is so going to be fun to watch. Immediately the four men in question posture a little. Lachlan’s chest puffs out, and Killian seems to grow taller.
“Come to see who is going to defeat you, Grant?” Miles asks.
“Defeat us? Please. We’re going to wipe the floors with you.”
“Sure, kid.”
“Whatever, pops. You’re so old you won’t even be able to see the disc.”
Oh, for shit talk, this is sad.
I turn my head to see what the guys are going to come back with. I really hope it’s better than his volley at them.
Lachlan faces Everett. “Didn’t he say that last month? I swear he did. He came over here, talking shit, and then we annihilated them. Do you remember that? I know I’m old, so maybe my memory is off.”
Everett purses his lips and pinches his chin. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re right. Miles, do you remember it?”
“You know, we beat so many people, I can’t remember if Total Discbags was below us, but ...”
Killian jumps in. “Wait, wait, wait, they had to be because we won! That’s right. Grant, were you there?”
Grant seems to fume a little, and I almost feel bad for the kids since ... you know, these are grown men and all. “Not this time.”
My face falls, and I almost want to hug him because he really needs to work on his game if he’s going to come over here. “Grant, is it?” I ask. “Honey, these guys have decades on you in the shit-talking game. Next time talk about the fact that one has a knee brace or threaten to kick him.”
“Ainsley,” Lachlan says with a warning in his tone.
I ignore that because ... what’s he going to do? Pin me down and kiss me? I’m all for that. I keep talking to Grant. “Maybe watch some videos for tips or something. Better yet, leave it on the pitch and just kick their ass that way.”
Grant looks slightly offended, but I’m just trying to help him out. He leaves without another word, and I hope he takes my advice. Sparring with these guys is a sport in itself.
“It’s a field not a pitch. We’re not playing soccer,” Lachlan says after a minute.
“Is there a difference?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m really confused why you were chosen for a sports piece.”
“Well, my decrepit friend, I’m not writing about sports. It’s more like sports with a twist of human interest and a splash of money for colleges.”
“Money for colleges? I thought we already talked about why athletes get scholarships.”
“You can’t tell me there’s not some backdoor dealings with this stuff. Everett and I talked at length about his offers. I think there’s a story there,” I tell him. “I’ll learn more after my meeting with the others.”
Since he’s no help.
Lachlan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Some days, I wonder about you.”
“What I’m hearing is that you think about me often.”
“I don’t.”
I shrug. “That’s what you just said.”
“I said I wonder about you, meaning I wonder how you get through life without walking into walls.”
“Easy, I just keep my eyes open,” I explain.
He sighs. “Let’s get set up.”
When he said “set up,” I really thought it would be like the others. A tent, a blanket, maybe a chair or two, but oh, no. It’s nothing like that.
These are grown men who know how to do a tournament setup.
There are four tents tied together, each having a quadrant where there are specific uses—one with chairs and a table, one where the food will be handled, one for stretching and an array of things I have no idea about, and another for overflow.
The food side is especially amazing, with a grill, chips, soda, waters, and all kinds of fruits and veggies.
“Are we tailgating?” I ask.
Miles laughs. “That’s after. The beer has to stay in the truck since this is a college event.”
“Yes, and you’re all such doe-eyed college kids.”
He opens his eyes wide. “Aren’t we?”
Fools. They all are, but I really like these guys and see why they all get along so well.
“All right, explain how today works. Let’s say you beat the Swift-bees, then what?”
“It’s pretty easy. We play them, win, and go on. We have three games total, and if you lose two games, you’re out completely. We’ve never experienced that, so ...”
“I forgot, you guys are, like, a huge deal in the Frisbee world.”
Miles grins. “We sure are, sweetheart.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You’re trouble.”
“You have no idea.”
Lachlan comes beside me. “Don’t you need to warm up?”
Miles salutes his friend. “Sure thing, coach.”
He heads over to the stretching section, and they all start to warm up.
“Shouldn’t you be joining your team?” I ask.
Lachlan clears his throat. “Someone has to make sure you’re not accosted.”
“By the feral Frisbee players?”
“The ones on my team, apparently.”
“What does it matter to you? ”
He jerks his head. “What does that mean?”
Exactly what I said. Why is he worried about anyone talking to me? He and I aren’t together—we’ve never been. I’m at worst his best friend’s sister—at best, his friend. Neither of those titles gives him the rights to anything. Still, I’m pretty sure I know why, and while I’d love to push him and force him to say he wants me, I know Lachlan.
He won’t.
His deep issues regarding people choosing to leave him will never go away, and I’m not meant to stay.
“It means it really isn’t your business if someone does flirt with me. You had your chance to marry me after you kissed me, and you passed on it.”
“It’s a wonder why.”
“See! Even you get it. I’m happy to call the Admiral and let him know your hands touched my person.”
He rolls his eyes. “Heaven help me.”
“Yo, Lach! Let’s go. It’s time to show these Swift-bees it’s about to be a cruel summer.”
“That was just bad, Miles!” I call back.
“Really? I’ve been working on it for our trash-talking during the game. I thought it was a good one.”
I giggle. “Maybe start with asking if they’re ready for it!”
“Oh! Good one.” He puffs out his chest, showing off his black shirt with a snake on it.
Miles runs off and Lachlan lets out a deep sigh. “I regret this more than ever.”
“Is it because now there are witnesses?”
“Yes.”
I bump his shoulder. “Don’t worry, no one really reads my articles anyway. Let’s just hope it doesn’t go viral.”
“Knowing my luck—it will.”
Knowing my luck—it won’t.
“Well, either way, you better get out there and show those little girls what you’re made of, big guy. ”
Lachlan grunts and then rushes onto the field, and I grab my chair to watch the shit show.
The thing is, it’s not a shit show. It could be, but I’m not watching the game. I’m watching him. About ten minutes into the game, he ripped his shirt off, tossing it at me as he ran past. Now he’s shirtless, and every glorious muscle is on display. His arms are huge, and he moves with such grace it’s making me hotter than I’d care to admit.
After about an hour of them running back and forth, yelling at each other, and yelling when they get a point— Touchdown? What the hell do they call it? I really need to learn these freaking terms before the article —they form a huddle.
His back is to me, that perfect ass pushed out, and I want to bite it.
Where the hell did that come from?
I shake that thought away and have to get control when he comes to the sideline.
“Hey, I need my shirt back.”
The one I’m clutching to my chest like a two-year-old with her blanket. Yeah, that shirt.
“Oh, here.” I hand it over and he winks at me.
I melt. Because I’m a dork.
Or because it’s a thousand degrees out, but I’m pretty sure it’s the dork part of me.
“If we score in the next five minutes, it’s over. It’ll be a mercy rule,” Lachlan explains, but I’m too busy staring at his chest before he covers it with the shirt again.
“Cool,” I manage to get out.
Cool? Seriously? I have no game at all. Not that I think I need game, because since our kiss nothing has happened.
He winks. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss the good stuff.”
“So you’ve been holding back?”
“Just watch.”
Sure enough, about two minutes later, they come running off with huge smiles. The sad part is that I did, in fact, miss the scoring.
“That was great. You guys did amazing,” I say, hoping it sounds sincere, because honestly, I wouldn’t have known who won if it weren’t for their singing “We Are the Champions” at the end.
None of them look like they’re about to keel over, so that’s promising. When they get close, Lachlan pulls me in for a hug, plastering me to his nasty, sweaty chest as he walks.
“Lach! Eww! You’re so gross!”
They all laugh, and he keeps walking, forcing me to go backward as I try to pry myself out of his grasp. “Hey now, if you’re going to be a part of the team, you need to suffer too.”
After another second of struggling, he releases me, and I glare at him. “Ick. I need a shower now.”
“Me too.”
Maybe we can take one together ...
No, no, we are not thinking these things. But ... you know, I am.
I clear my throat. “Well, now what?”
“Now we wait. We have an hour to eat, hang out, and rest before the next game.”
“And just how bad did you beat those girls?”
He grins. “We destroyed them.”
“Feel good about that, huh?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
Not that my competitive edge doesn’t love a good spanking, but still. They’re a bunch of middle-aged guys beating up on college girls. I’m not sure this is where I’d want that part of my personality to shine through.
“You know, in fact, I do. You make me out to be this ancient old dude, and look at what we did.”
I nod slowly. I can see his point. “Fair enough. You guys were really good—I think. It was much better than the practices.”
“We did that for your benefit,” he lies.
I know he’s lying because Everett told me how bad that was, and they were really pissed that they couldn’t get it together.
“Oh.” I say the word as a sigh as I place my hand over my head. “Thank God you did. I was really worried for today, but ... due to your absolute suckage the other days, I’m just ... impressed.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me back against his sweaty side. “Good. I’m rather impressive.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.”
We make it to the tent. Everyone is sitting, eating, and talking about the game. I grab a plate, loading up with veggies, dip, and some chips. Because I eat like a twelve-year-old. The area is packed and there’s nowhere to sit, so I stand over to the side.
“Here,” Lachlan says, getting to his feet. “Sit here.”
“No, I didn’t play. You need to sit.”
“Or just let her sit on your lap,” Killian suggests.
“Right, let her just sit with you,” Miles piles on.
Not wanting to let on that this is even a little uncomfortable, I say, “I’ll just stand. It’s fine.”
Lachlan shakes his head. “Stop, come sit. It’s not a big deal.”
Yeah. No. Not a big deal at all. In fact, it’s such a small deal, it’s not even a deal. Nothing to see. Nothing to think about.
I walk over, because if I do protest, they’ll all think it matters. So I smile and sigh as I sit on his leg.
His very strong leg.
I turn to look at him with a stern face. “I swear, if you do anything stupid like bounce your knee and make me drop food, I’ll cut your balls off in your sleep.”
The guys burst out laughing, and then the conversation turns to the game. We sit here, and they explain more of the rules. Really, the rules are crazy. The disc must always be moving forward. They can’t pass it backward, and the referee on the field is really just for show, because they call the penalties. The other team can argue it or accept it, and most times they just accept, unless it’s blatant they’re trying to screw each other.
The referee is there to sort of mediate, I guess. Regardless, dude is getting an awesome cardio workout.
As we sit here, the awkward feeling of being on his knee stops being awkward. I move so that I can see the guys better, which means my legs are draped over the side of the chair and I’m leaning into the crook of his arm.
Lachlan moves a little, and his hand rests on the top of my thigh.
I do my best to not think about it until it moves just a little higher.
My eyes find his for a heartbeat, and there are a million questions there. I pull my lower lip between my teeth, and he moves his hand higher again.
Without a word, I ask him what he’s doing. Not that he can read my mind, but he smirks a little after I say it in my head.
It’s like he’s daring me to tell him to stop.
Lachlan West knows there is not a dare in the world I’ll ever back down from.
I nod my head a little, telling him to go ahead.
His thumb brushes the sensitive skin there, stroking ever so slightly.
My breathing gets just a little shallower, and then Lachlan juts his chin toward the guys. “Are you going to answer him?”
Answer who?
People are here?
Shit. Yeah, they’re all getting up, cleaning their mess, and starting to get ready for the next game.
I turn to face Miles, praying to God it was his voice I heard. “Sorry, I missed what you said.”
His brows furrow and Everett laughs. “I asked if you needed me to throw away your plate, but I see your mind is elsewhere.”
I force a smile and push off his lap. He grunts when I push off, and he grabs my hips, pulling me back down, and that is when I feel his erection.
“I’ll throw her stuff out. I need to talk to her.”
Everett laughs. “I bet you need to do something to her.”
“Fuck off.”
“Well, that first word was what I was going to tell you ...”
“Go.” Lachlan’s voice is low and commanding.
I really hate that it turns me on .
They all file out of the tent area, and I sit here, waiting until the last person leaves. “We have to talk?”
Lachlan brushes something off my lips. “Yeah, after the game, we’re going to come up with a way to deal with this.”
“We are?”
“Yes.”
“Lachlan, let’s go!” Killian yells, and Lachlan pushes me so that I stand.
I face him and stare up into his brown eyes. “And how exactly do we deal with it?”
He adjusts himself. “I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
Well, now I’m excited to hear this, because I know what I’d like.