Chapter Three
Tasha
Stryder Cooper. I couldn’t get his name and his gorgeous face out of my head for the next two days. I was so enthralled that I found myself eventually googling him. There was little to be said about his personal profile, except that he was the son of a famous football star from the eighties--- Douglas Cooper. The reports on him mostly described his ascent to his current center position and his extraordinary performance during the recent months.
I found myself even more attracted as I read on and ogled his photos. He wasn’t very tall, probably just two inches taller than me. But he had an impressive built and a naughty glint in his brown eyes that went well with his lopsided grin. He always wore his hair in a rather short style, with some bangs falling over his forehead from time to time.
On the third day after the shoot, I still couldn’t help thinking about him. It was rather astonishing when I suddenly received a call from one of the commercial’s crew members, asking me to step in for Eve who had gotten sick.
I drove to the well-known Windfield football field without a second thought, a little bothered that I was actually more eager to “bump” into Stryder again than do an extra stint for additional income.
They were in the middle of shooting a football scene when I’d arrived. I stood at the lower section of the bleachers, mesmerized by the live scrimmage happening while cameras whirred about. Immediately I spotted Stryder’s broad shoulders and numbered back. He had just done a pass and was running across the field, his strong legs moving gracefully. I couldn’t see his face through the helmet, but I could tell he was deep in concentration.
As they continued to do the shoot, I decided to head down and announce my arrival to the crew.
“What do I do?” I asked the person in charge calmly.
He looked at me casually and grabbed some clothes off a chair. “You were the stand-in for Eve before, right? Well, today you get to be a real cheerleader. Good luck.”
What the fuck! I thought in alarm as I laid out the skimpy cheerleader uniform in front of me. Am I really going to do this?
For a while, I was stricken with panic. I saw the two other cheerleaders practicing their dance routine. Holy shit.
I stood frozen on the spot until the crew member gave me a push. “Hey, hurry up! We don’t have much time. You still need to be made up to look more like Eve!”
I got dressed and glammed up for the role right before I was led to the choreographer.
“Hey, I’m really hoping you’re a quick learner because we need to do this fast,” she told me. “Don’t worry, it’s just basic steps and you’ll mostly be covered by the two cheerleaders. We’re just going to shoot a separate solo routine for Eve and the video editor can do the rest.”
I nodded nervously. I could jump off a cliff and run through flames of fire, but dancing?! I had two left feet, for crying out loud!
Nevertheless, I did my best to follow along. So far, so good.
“Relax!” the choreographer told me for the nth time. “You’re too stiff. Just imagine you’re dancing with a hot guy in a bar.”
I don’t do bars, bitch, I said in my head, frowning.
She was actually losing control with me, too, because we’ve been going over the routine for quite some time already. Eventually, I did begin to get the steps even though I probably moved quite awkwardly. The cameraman who was watching us assured the choreographer it would do at some angles.
“Whew,” I muttered under my breath as we finally did the first take. Because I was super conscious, I was well aware of the cameras around. Good thing the bleachers were empty.
It was even more nerve-wracking when I saw Stryder and the other guys watching. They were obviously done with their own sequence.
“You can do this,” I whispered to myself as I tried to focus on doing the steps more naturally. I was certainly rattled, but I didn’t want him seeing me in that kind of predicament. So I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself as a graceful dancer. It was definitely hard to envision but I had to try.
I couldn’t remember how many takes we had. But at one point, when my eyes shifted to where Stryder was standing, I saw a smirk on his lips and an amused look in his eyes. I scowled and tried to ignore him.
Finally, after some time, the director said it would do. I breathed deeply and headed straight to the dressing room for the extras.
To my utter shock, Stryder was waiting right outside the door, his arms folded across his chest. A wide grin was plastered on his face, making me glower.
“What?!” I said.
“Well, hello to you, too,” he responded with an amused expression on his face. “Nice dancing back there.” He even had the nerve to check out my revealing outfit, his eyes lingering on my long, lean legs.
“That cheerleading outfit seems to suit you well,” he added, probably knowing it was an insult to me.
I was certainly pissed, but I didn’t let on. “Shut up,” I said but in a cool voice. “Can you please move? I need to get dressed. I don’t have all the time.”
“Sure,” he said, stepping aside and letting me in.
My heart was thumping like crazy while I changed and removed some of the makeup, making myself look normal.
When I went out, you could imagine my surprise when I saw the cocky football player still there, waiting for me.
“Are you stalking me or something?” I demanded.
“Do you want me to?” he said nonchalantly, making my blood boil even more.
“No!” I answered adamantly. “So just go and bother someone else.”
I walked past him, but he actually grabbed my arm and spun me around. The sudden impact made me slightly lose my balance, causing me to crash into his muscular chest. I caught a whiff of his after-shave which made me a bit heady. His arms instantly went around me, his touch making me shiver.
My eyes popped open as I automatically looked up. I was actually taken aback when I saw the look of dazzle on his face. “You look different,” he uttered in a puzzled tone of voice.
“Yeah, well, this is the real me,” I pointed out sarcastically.
“I like the real you better,” he said matter-of-factly, making my heart race.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “Now will you please let me go?”
“Only if you tell me your name first,” he said, grinning widely again and even drawing me closer in his strong arms. The movement made my heart jump into my throat.
“Tasha,” I whispered, my eyes locking with his. I could feel our immediate connection. “It’s Tasha Rodriguez.”