Page 3 of Let You Love Me

“Later, ladies,” Miller, a senior tight end, says as he winks and turns.

“If they want to haze us so badly, why the hell aren’t they staying to watch?” Tommy mumbles under his breath.

Because they’re setting us up.

I brush the thought aside. If the boys want to do this, so be it. If I’m anything, it’s a team player, and I’m not going to bail on them on or off the field.

I turn to find everyone paired up.

“Time starts now,” Chance calls out, then backs away.

Everyone rushes into action at once.

Tommy and I hurry to the Jag.

I take one of the back tires while he rounds the front. Living in a small rural town, I’ve changed my fair share of flats, a skill I didn’t expect to come in handy here.

Only two minutes pass before the first tire is off, and Tommy helps me stack the blocks beneath it before he removes one on the front.

Two down, two to go. With any luck, we’ll finish this and put this fucking hazing shit behind us.

The second front tire comes off and we’re down to mine. A rusted fucking lug nut is making it tough as shit to get it off, but I’m determined. Still, time is winding down, so I tell Tommy to take his to the fountain while I work.

“You sure, man?”

A glance around me tells me most of the guys are wrapping this shit up.

I grit my teeth and grunt as I put all my weight into the lug nut. “I’m sure,” I grind out as Tommy takes off with one of his tires.

Finally, the nut starts to turn slowly as I hiss out a breath.

By the time Tommy returns, I’m wrenching it the rest of the way off. “Get the last tire and go,” I say, breathing heavily from the exertion. “I’m getting it off now, but everyone else is done. Make sure the guys are all together and head to Patsy’s,” I say, removing the tire. “I’ll be right behind you. All I have to do is dump this and take pics.”

“I can stay—”

“No.” I shake my head. “Get them and go before someone sees us and busts our asses. I’ll be there in two minutes,” I say, starting to stack the blocks underneath the last axel.

“Okay. See you in a few.” He darts off, yelling for Ben and Greene to follow him, sneakers slapping on the pavement as he gathers the rest of the guys.

I stack the final block and pick up the tire when a shadow looms over me from above.

For a moment I think it’s one of the guys, determined to help. But when they clear their throat, the hairs rise on the back of my neck and I instinctively know it’s not.

Very slowly, I get to my feet, turning at the sound, and all the blood drains from my face.

I’ve been caught red-handed.

And not by a pissed off professor, receptionist, or staff member.

It’s the Wildcats’ head coach,mycoach, and the look of condemnation he gives me may as well be a death sentence.

Fuck. Me.

Chapter 2

LANE

After I tie thelaces of Sophie’s shoes, I hand her the large ball I bought at the convenience store this morning and straighten. She’d been bugging me for a new one ever since hers blew away in last week’s thunderstorm after we left it outside.