He Shoots, She scores

Chapter Fourteen: Weston | The Hands-Off Policy

RJ is acting weird. Granted, he's always weird, but his hands are jittery in the locker room like he's trying to hide something. It isn't until Gracie barges in here, into the guy's locker room, that I understand RJ's nervousness. That son of a bitch ratted me out.

Listen- did I introduce a strict hands-off policy? Yes. Did I threaten expulsion from the team for even looking in Gracie's direction? Yes. Did I give Derek shit during practice for constantly staring at her ass? He was lucky that a penalty was all I gave him.

Considering how awkward Gracie gets when we cross paths at home after I'm emerged from the shower shirtless, I'm surprised at her audacity to poke into a changeroom filled with half naked guys.

But she strides in here with her gaze zeroed in on me. A murderous glare takes over her face as she marches my way. I'm fully clothed, having already changed into my regular attire. I'm in the midst of shoving clothes into my bag when her shadow is in front of me.

Gracie crosses her arms. With her standing and me sitting on the bench, she's towering over me for a change. And why in god's hell is she still wearing that outfit? I can see her shivering from a mile away. "Please tell me RJ was joking about the hands-off policy."

I look around us, and to my pleasant delight, everybody is still obeying said policy. All the guys are feigning interest in the most mundane things: shoes, shirts, bags. I lean over to start lacing up my shoes. "Well you're here right now. So I'm guessing you already know the answer."

Gracie rolls her neck up to the ceiling. "You are such an ass."

I finish knotting both shoes. "I'll un-do the policy once you've learned your lesson."

My content increases at her flustered face. "My lesson? What lesson?"

I stand up and slam my locker shut. My hand fishes around in my bag for the car keys. "You're a smart girl. You'll figure it out."

"So- so this policy...this means I can't ask out anyone on the hockey team?" she cries out.

"And vice versa." I nod once.

She scoffs. "You can't do that. You don't even have the authority!"

"I'm team captain, sweetheart." I wink. "I can do whatever I want." I start to move past her, but she slams a palm into my chest. I'm sure she meant for it to be more forceful, and yet, she's the only one who ends up moving from the impact. By now, we've caught the attention of those surrounding us- the fakers who were pretending not to eavesdrop.

"You're going to un-do this hands-off policy" she demands. Her voice has gone up an octave. My lip tugs up. "Or what?" I ask. I twist my lanyard lazily around my two fingers.

"Or- or- God, you're such an asshole!" Gracie flusters. I'm fully smirking now. "You think you can keep me from every single guy on campus? Fine. I'll just go find me a date from the football team." Her hand leaves my chest.

"That's adorable." I'm not smirking anymore. "But right now, you're getting on my nerves. Don't make me extend the policy."

"Extend?!" Gracie's jaw drops. "You can't do that." Still, there's a wariness to her tone, like she's still unsure of how much power I hold.

"Michael Simmons, captain of the football team, owes me one. One word and his teammates are off limits too."

Gracie straightens. "Then the lacrosse team."

"Good luck. I'm basically brothers with their assistant coach."

"Basketball."

"I'm on good terms with them too."

I can see her brain trying to rack up more sports. "Tennis" she blurts out.

"Don't waste your time, Lavergne"

"What- so now every single straight man on this campus is off limits?" she exclaims. "That's insane!"

"Rules are rules."

Gracie turns towards Eli with a desperate look on her face. Her eyes are as wide as saucers. "Eli, you agree that Weston is acting crazy, right?"

Eli winces and gives her a sympathetic shoulder pat. "Sorry, Gracie, but it's best to save your breath. Weston doesn't kid when it comes to this stuff."

Gracie drops her jaw before turning to RJ. "RJ? You're on my side, right?"

RJ grabs her backpack and hoists it onto his own shoulder. "Sorry, kid. I've learned the hard way not to go against Weston." He then leans closer to mutter something privately in her ear, but with his loud ass voice, so I hear everything. "He implemented this same hands off policy for his sister, and when I asked her out, he benched me for an entire game."

"You guys suck" Gracie murmurs. "You all suck!"

"Come on" Eli says like he's talking to a little kid. "Let's get you home."

I re-shoulder my bag and jab my chin towards the exit. "Get in the car. We're not letting you walk home alone like that."

It's gotten so silent that I swear a pin drops. The only sounds are coming from the shower heads in the back. Gracie huffs. "What's it gonna take for you to call it quits? Am I supposed to beg?"

"Sweetheart, I'd love for you to beg. But at least wait until we're home, yeah?"

A few snickers and oooohhs erupt from around us before Gracie officially gives up. She groans out of exasperation before strutting angrily to the exit. I've only taken a few steps when someone's hand rests on my shoulder, tugging me back. It's Eli. He's giving me that etched-in eyebrow stare that means he's about to lecture me. "Seriously man? A campus wide hands-off policy?" He shakes his head in fatherly disappointment. "You realize how this looks, right?"

I scoff. "You're overthinking it."

Eli loses it. "I'm over thinking it? Me? Really now?" He jabs a finger to his own chest. "Because I'm not the one who needs to be physically restrained every time a guy looks in Gracie's general direction."

"For the last time" I hiss. "This is for the good of our team. You saw how the guys were when Gracie walked into practice. The further she stays from them, the higher our chances of winning will be."

Eli tsks. "Delusional. That's what you are."