Page 4

Axel strolls up, eyebrow piercing glinting in the overhead light, and slaps Brent on the shoulder. “Reynolds,” he says, in greeting. “Ran for three touchdowns. Who even needs the rest of the team, amirite?”

Brent crosses his arms over his chest. “Sometimes you gotta take matters into your own hands.”

“Maybe I need to leave the goal more and get some glory.” Axel looks at me for the first time and nods at my drink. “You gonna finish that?”

“Uh–” He grabs it before I can reply, tipping it to his lips. I stare at his Adam’s apple, bobbing as he swallows. “Sure, go ahead.”

He finishes, licking the corners of his mouth and wrinkles his nose at the empty cup. “Jesus, that’s some shitty punch.”

Brent doesn’t look amused, but he’s also not dumb enough to start something up with Axel. He’s a notorious, no-fucks-to-give, wild card, with his tattoos, piercings, and love of partying. He’s also one of the few on campus unafraid of the Wittmore quarterback. Unfortunately for me and Brent, he knows everything that went down that night.

“Twyler was looking for you,” he says, crushing the cup in his inked fingers. I try to make out the letters across the knuckles but can’t. “I think they’re ready to go.”

“Oh, great.” I feel a sense of relief. “I was looking for them too.”

“Cool. I’ll walk you out.” He places a wide, steady hand on my lower back.

“Thanks.”

I don’t give Brent another look, but I only take a step before I feel the quarterback’s hand wrap around my bicep, holding me back. “Think about what I said, Nadia.”

Axel doesn’t give me an opportunity to answer, placing his body between me and Brent, forcing him to release me.

“God, he’s a self-absorbed douche,” he says once we step into the cloud of smoke on the deck. “Was he bothering you? Do I need to go back in there and break some knuckles?”

“No knuckle breaking, please.” I intentionally don’t answer the other part of the question. I hate that Axel was there the night Twyler and Reese dragged me out of Brent and CJ’s house. This makes the second time he’s been witness to my messy life. “Oh, there’s Twyler and Reese.”

I see our friends down in the yard, and push through the smokers to reach them. Twyler is looking down at her phone, fingers flying over the screen.

Reese squeezes her shoulder and lifts his chin in our direction. “Sunshine.”

Her eyes meet mine and she shoves her phone in her pocket. “There you are! We were looking all over.”

“Reynolds had her cornered in the back hall,” Axel says with the slightest slur of his words. I jab him with my elbow and he grunts. “What?”

“You were talking to Brent?” Twyler shouts. “He’s not allowed to even look at you, much less talk to you!”

“Shhh,” I tell her, while shooting Axel a dirty look. Narc. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Nadia,” Reese starts, “we made a deal with him. No contact.”

Theymade a deal. They moved on.Mylife imploded.

“I promise it was nothing.” I give her a reassuring smile. “He just wanted to brag about the game.”

“He ran for three touchdowns,” Axel adds, stumbling over a few syllables. He rolls his eyes at Reese. “Marshall was wide open in the end-zone the entire time.”

“Prick,” Reese agrees, then lifts an eyebrow at his teammate. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a few beers–oh and Nadia’s drink.” He makes a displeased face at the memory. “It was terrible.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.” He shrugs. “Unless you’re counting the joint I shared with the rowing team before we got here.”

“Jesus, Axel,” Reese mutters. “We have morning practice.”

“It’s Sss-unday,” he slurs. “Not until ten. I’ll be there, Cap. No worries.”