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Beauty and the Baller (Strangers in Love #1)(42)

Author:Ilsa Madden-Mills

“They knew our schedule,” Toby murmurs.

“They’re watching us,” Bruno says, looking over his shoulder. “They could be right now. Maybe hidden cameras.”

I keep the eye roll in. “More than likely, they got lucky and moved fast. They scattered those toys in less than ten minutes.” I heave out an exhale. “Probably athletes.”

“The players,” Toby says grimly.

“Yeah, they won state last year, and now they’re worried about us,” Bruno snaps. “Trying to fu—I mean mess with us.”

“Back in my day, we’d get them back and make sure everyone knew,” Skeeter mutters.

“That’s what I’m saying! We can’t let this go,” Toby says.

“Where are we gonna get stuffed rams? They have the stupidest mascot. I mean, they keep a live goat in their stadium and pretend it’s a ram. Idiots,” Bruno grumbles.

“That poor goat, all tied up. No family or friends,” Skeeter adds. “Animals deserve to live in the wild.”

“Steal the goat! It’s been done before!” Bruno shouts. “That’s it, Skeeter!”

“Yeah!” call Toby and Milo as they fist-bump each other.

Skeeter starts, then gives me a wild look. “Nah, nah, Coach, I wasn’t suggesting they—”

I cross my arms. “No one is stealing anything. We’re going to let this go.”

The boys gape. “Coach, if we don’t, then we’re pussies,” Bruno argues. “Bobcat pride means something.”

Toby and Milo nod in agreement.

I shake my head. “This team is about integrity. We dress up for games, we use polite language in front of others, we try our best in class, we work our bodies, we practice, and we prepare our hearts. Win the heart, win everything. You can’t do that if you’re consumed with getting back at Huddersfield. That’s what they want. It’s a ploy.” I put my hands on my hips. “Besides, just like on the field, it’s the second person who gets caught. They’d be waiting on you. Don’t stoop to their level. Be better.”

There’s a long silence, the guys not meeting my eyes. Skeeter shuffles his feet, a mumbled “Yeah, what he said” coming from him.

I look at Skeeter. “Get maintenance on this, stat. We need it cleaned up before practice. Call the office, and have someone call the principal over at Huddersfield and see if they had any students absent today. I doubt it will help, but we can see. Also, see if we can get that Insta account down.”

I take in the sullen faces before me. “You three walk with me back to the school. I want you to keep this between us and the team. There’s no need to go half-cocked into the school and start spouting off. It will only make things worse and make fans angry. Got it?”

“But those poor stuffed animals—” Bruno starts.

“No buts,” I say.

He lets out a gust of air. “Yes, sir. My lips are sealed. Can I tell my girlfriend? She and I share everything. She’s a cheerleader, super hot—”

I inhale. “We all know your girlfriend, Bruno. This is just for the team. We can use this as an opportunity. If you see a Huddersfield person out somewhere, be nice, pretend like it never happened, that it didn’t make a blip on your radar. That’s the ultimate revenge.”

They give me doubtful looks.

Bruno’s shoulders dip. “Are you going to give us one of your Art of War quotes?”

“No, Toby is. He’s your captain. Toby?”

I turn my gaze to him, waiting for the leadership I know he has inside him. I’ve heard him repeating our mantras at practice and on the field. He’s my best player, the most dedicated, the one who has a lot to lose if he doesn’t get a scholarship. That thought makes me pause, the idea of leaving him next season; then I push it away. Whether I’m here or not, I’ll make sure Toby gets his education.

Toby straightens his shoulders and paraphrases one of the quotes. “Ponder before you make a move. Think about your enemy and where he’ll be waiting. If you think they’re laying a trap, they are.”

I nod. “Tell them what we should do.”

“Ignore it. They did this to piss us off, hoping we’d have a knee-jerk reaction, maybe get caught and have to sit out a few games and ruin our winning streak,” he says.

Pride soars inside me, and I slap him on the back. “All right. Now, do you mean it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want a promise from each of you that you’ll let this go,” I say.

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