Chapter 11
Oscar
“That sounds fucking terrible,” Jax and I say in unison as we approach the door.
“It’s the sign of a great night. We could…”
Rikki keeps talking, but I can’t hear him. I can barely breathe. This room is suffocating. “I really hope the new girl does something different with this place. I hate it here,” I finally say, not sure if I interrupted Rikki’s rant or not.
Jax pats me on the shoulder, I think as an attempt to comfort me, but nothing can help.
I still see remnants of Tatum. Her gold hair clip is still propped up on the window sill next to her water bottle.
“Someone should empty that,” I say feeling nauseous as I walk towards the water bottle in question.
Jax, the best motherfucking friend he is, reaches around me and takes it.
“I got it. Go make nice with the new girl, the coffee might not have been enough to get in her good graces. But it was a great idea you had.” He points at me, “Plus, I need her to come tonight to keep Sloan company or she won’t come. ”
“Don’t be gross and flirt with her to get another chick,” I snap.
“Geez man.” He snorts. “ One— I wasn’t flirting with her to get another chick. Maren is hot and all, but I’ve had my sights on Sloan for two years. Two— Why the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t,” I lie, walking away from him and that motherfucking water bottle in his hand.
I barely take two steps before Maren’s voice carries through the room.
“Alright guys, we’re going to get started. We have a lot to do, and there isn’t a lot of time.” Her voice echoes through the room, filling the space around me, and it’s more comforting than I anticipated.
She points to Jax, Rikki and a few of the other players. “I need you guys to go over there and stretch. We are going to start with a few counts for the end of the parade, because that will be the most complex.”
“You don’t need me to stretch?” I raise one brow at her.
“I do. But I wanted to take a second to make sure you understand that you already cost me this job once, whether you meant to or not. I know you’re going through some shit, but it won’t happen again.
If there is anything that I do that irks you, please save it for after the session.
We can discuss it at a later time so I can make any necessary adjustments, but don’t question me on how I do my job in front of everyone.
Ok?” Her voice is low and soft, but her words and gaze are intentional as she sizes me up.
Fuuuckkk… something primal stirs inside me.
She doesn’t wait for my response, instead she walks towards the rest of the team, and I swear the sway in her hips as she walks in their direction is purposeful.
Every parade ends with the team on the stage dancing to “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars, and the last 15-20 seconds are new choreography for each game.
Once we start traveling and have a few dances in the mix we will rotate them from town to town.
She moves quickly through the moves as she teaches it, and I can’t keep up.
“This shit shouldn’t be this hard,” I whisper to Rikki.
“It’s not that hard,” he says, moving his hips forward and backward like he’s humping the air.
“She doesn’t look like she’s humping her hand,” I deadpan, watching him struggle.
He busts out laughing.
“Rikki, your hands are not in the mix. They should be by your side. You move your hips back and use the momentum to hop and turn to the side. When you land, your hips should come forward,” she says, seemingly out of nowhere.
Then she bends down in front of him pushing her ass in my direction as she places her hands on both sides of his hips and guides him through the motions.
When she walks away, he smiles at me.
“You are such a dirty little fucker,” I whisper. “Is that the only way you convince girls to touch you?”
I really don’t like her touching him.
After we learn the dance for the parade and Rikki’s walk up, we start working on the field dance. This one is for the entire team, so we moved to the field.
I take my first deep breath today.
This one is to “Pink Pony Club” and Jax is the center of the routine, along with Maren.
Horner wants to introduce her to fans by having her join us on the field, and watching him lift her onto his shoulders and spin her around with his left hand on her ass is pissing me off.
As he spins, his other hand slowly slides up and down her leg trying to balance her and every time his hand skims the skin just below her shorts, goosebumps pepper her porcelain skin.
We all move in closer and everyone starts jumping up and down like we’re dancing in a club, but my eyes never leave her.
When Jax trails his hand over the curve of her hip, just like she told him to do, I clench my teeth.
I know it’s so she doesn’t fall when she rotates to his front and ends up straddling his waist before he sets her down, but fuck.
My breath quickens and my nostrils flare.
And when I look up, she’s staring right at me.
She holds my gaze for longer than she should, both of our chests heaving—hers from exertion, mine from rage.
Even with a party buzzing around me, I can’t forget her. All I can think about is how much she grates my nerves.
What is it about Maren McCrae that makes my blood boil? She’s kind of a brat.
The thought of her ass as Jax held her during rehearsal, with each swell and curve inviting his touch, is on repeat, nagging at my nerves. It’s like a dripping faucet in the dead of night—small, persistent, and impossible to ignore. That is Maren McCrae.
I can’t pull myself out. I’ve been trapped in this perpetual state of pissed off since rehearsal. I played like shit tonight, struck out every time I got up to the plate, and when we performed the field routine, and I had to bear witness to his hands all over her skin again, it pissed me off.
As if summoned by my thoughts, I hear, “Hey.” Mare’s voice is soft when she sits down next to me on the sofa.
“Hey.” My tone is colder than it should be, I have no reason to give her attitude.
“This is my friend, Sadie.” She gestures towards the blonde next to her.
She’s cute, but the best part about her blonde hair is how rich it makes the long chestnut locks dangling over Maren’s shoulders appear.
Her blue eyes dance as she looks around the room.
But I can’t seem to steal my attention back from her nose.
It’s the most perfect nose I’ve ever seen—long and graceful, the kind of feature that gives her face a quiet, unforgettable elegance.
It’s not delicate. It’s striking, like she’s been sculpted with bold lines on purpose.
“Hi Sadie.” I sound bored. When the words leave my lips and I can’t quite register where the reaction is coming from because what I really am is mesmerized. But before I can mask it, Maren starts talking again.
“Right, so um… I guess we should go get a drink,” she says to Sadie, and they stand up and walk to the kitchen.
I watch her walk away, immediately dropping my gaze and following the swell of her ass in her jeans as she turns into the kitchen and my view is then blocked by the counters.
Fuck me. I need a distraction.