Intercepted (Page 17)

I’m starting to think I should’ve stayed home.

But then, I get the most brilliant—or the worst ever—idea.

When Courtney’s voice comes over the speakers as she welcomes everyone to the fashion show, I run to the back of the line where the single players are paired together and find Gavin.

I don’t have to look hard—he’s so gorgeous, I swear a little angel follows him around, shining a light over his head. And also, he’s super tall and easy to spot.

“Gavin!” I poke his arm, startling him out of the conversation he’s having with TK. “Will you walk with me? I was supposed to walk with Chris, but you know what happened there. Then I thought I wouldn’t have to walk at all. But because I’m in the program and there’s music timing or some shit, I do have to walk, and Courtney hates me, and I’m in this.” I motion to the skintight atrocity I got stuck in—literally. I might never be able to get it off. “And she has me alone and—”

“Marlee,” Gavin cuts me off. “I’d love to.”

“Damn, Marlee,” TK says. “How’re you gonna ask this scrub when I’m right here?”

“Sorry, TK, but you’re too pretty to walk down the runway with. You’ll upstage me.” I wink.

“Oh shit, girl. You’re right. This ugly motherfucker was definitely the better choice.” He laughs as he dodges a punch from Gavin.

“Where are you in line?” Gavin asks.

“Where do you think?”

His eyebrows go up and his head shoots back. “She wouldn’t.”

“She would, and she did.” I point down the line to the empty spot behind Chris and Ava.

“Damn. That’s cold.” He reaches for my hand and intertwines our fingers. “Well, let’s show everyone how it’s done.”

When we get back to my spot, Courtney is finishing up talking about all of the work she put into the event and thanking the Lady Mustangs for assisting her. She touches on the charities benefiting from this event for a brief moment and finishes by having all of the designers and donors who made this night possible stand up and take a bow.

Everyone around me is buzzing with anticipation, thrilled with the prospect of having all eyes on them, even if only for a short time. The guys are laughing and having fun while the women are practicing their model walks in the open space. And me? Well, I’m just hoping I don’t throw up.

Oblivious that I’ve found a partner, Chris turns around, his mouth already open, preparing to, at least I assume, say something to get under my skin. He’s known me forever. We might not be dating, but I doubt he forgot about my fear of being in front of large crowds.

But when he sees Gavin next to me, his eyes go wide, and the words die on his lips.

“Make sure you stop and watch us when you get off the stage, Alexander,” Gavin says.

Chris doesn’t respond. Instead, he pulls a play out of Ava’s playbook and gives me a dirty look instead of Gavin.

Ugh. What did I ever see in him?

The curtains open, and Courtney comes flying through, her blonde hair bouncing, eyes wide as she directs people to start walking. The line is creeping forward, and every inch causes my stomach to turn a little more. When I feel the breeze from the curtain as the couple in front of Chris and Ava walk through it, I contemplate running. My fear of crowds is no joke. The first time I had to present in a college lecture room, I ran out of the room to throw up . . . I had to repeat that class. But lucky for me, I have something—or someone—I didn’t have in my freshman public speaking course.

Gavin squeezes my hand and whispers in my ear. “Relax. You look gorgeous.”

I have too many knots in my stomach to respond, but I look up to him and give him the best smile I can manage.

Chris and Ava step through the curtain in front of us, and I try to focus on the feel of my hand in Gavin’s instead of the cheering crowd and flashing lights.

I’m not successful.

“Ready, Marlee?” Courtney asks as she’s peeking through the curtains watching Chris and Ava go.

“We are,” Gavin says.

Thank god, because I still can’t talk.

His deep voice stole her attention, and she spins around.

“Gavin! No! You’re supposed to go at the end, and she’s supposed to be alone!”

I can’t tell if she’s more pissed I’m not facing public humiliation alone or that he’s messing up her order.

But either way, she’s pissed, and it’s just the distraction I need before Gavin shrugs and pulls me onto the runway with him.

Before I know what’s happening, the bright lights hit me. The loud music slightly masks the gasps and growls the women make when they see me with Gavin. We walk side by side until we reach the stairs and Gavin motions for me to go in front of him. Once we reach the bottom, we circle around to the back so we can return the clothes to the designers we borrowed them from. After we’re back in the clothes we came in, we’re guided to the front of the stage where a group of empty seats is waiting for us to watch the fashion show with the real models.

Gavin is waiting for me as we head for the seats in a single file line. The cherry on top of this delicious (rotten) evening is after Gavin and I sit down, Chris plops down into the seat next to me. Gavin must sense my urge to run and before I can go anywhere, my small hand is wrapped up in his large one again.

“Hey.” He leans in close. “Are you good? We can go somewhere else if you want.”

Le sigh. He’s so dreamy.

“I’m fine.” I don’t know if it’s his proximity or the shots I took earlier, but I forget everything—and everyone—else. I sit next to him, watching the fashion and feeling giddy, regardless of all of the death glares being sent my way.

That is . . . until Chris makes it impossible to ignore. His long arm reaches in front of me, pushing my back flush against my chair, and grabs Gavin’s shoulder. “What the fuck is your problem, Pope?”

The Gavin who was just with me, laughing and having fun, is no longer next to me. His warm eyes have gone cold, and the comfortable grip he had on my hand now feels like a vise. “You want to get your hand off me and your arm out of Marlee’s face?”

“No. I don’t. I want to know why the fuck you’re touching my girl, inserting yourself into matters that don’t concern you.”

His girl? Is he insane?

“She’s not your girl, Alexander. First, because she got rid of your sorry ass and second, because she’s not property, you lowlife piece of shit.” Glad to know at least Gavin and I are on the same page.

“Oh. I’m the fuckin’ lowlife?” Of course he only heard the part about him. “You walk into the locker room like you’re god’s gift, changing plays, cutting my routes. Then I invite you into my fucking home and you make a move on my old lady. It doesn’t get lower than that.”

“I’m only twenty-seven. I don’t think that qualifies me for an AARP membership.” I speak up even though it’s clear I’m only being talked about, not talked to.

I say it to Chris since he’s the one who said it, but I’m looking at Gavin when I do. And when he turns to me, eyes soft and his lips curving up, my insides turn to jelly.

“Goddamn, Marlee. Can’t you ever shut the fuck up?” Chris’s arm is back in my face, and his voice has raised high enough to draw the attention of a few people around us. “You want me to notice you so bad, you’d act like a fuckin’ slut with my teammate you already know I’m having problems with? Fine. Let’s talk.”