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He takes my hands, rubbing his thumbs up and down the bones at my wrists. “I wanted to hang out with you longer. I’m sorry it got all messed up.”
“I am, too. Don’t think you’re getting away with not answering that last question.”
He gives me a half-hearted smile, and with just that one small movement, my stomach tenses.
“Kiss her already!” I hear from the truck.
West sighs, dropping his head. “I really hate all my teammates today. Every single one.”
I push up to my tiptoes and give him a quick kiss on the cheek, my lips pressing against a fair bit of stubble. I stay there for a beat too long before settling back on my feet.
West stands there, stunned, blinking his green eyes at me.
“Good luck tomorrow, West Brooks.” I back away, breaking our connection. His hands fall to his sides, and mine keep buzzing from the contact. “I’ll be thinking about you.”
Then I leave him on the sidewalk as I retreat into the house. When I get inside, I lean against the closed door, my hand over my pounding heart.
A quiet West is a sight to be seen, but a West who talks? A West who picks up his drunk teammate the night before a game? I shiver, goosebumps running up and down my arms.
He’s something else.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
West
“Get ready, boys,”Coach calls out from the front of the bus.
A few of the guys groan, but Aidan steps out and saunters down the aisle in a pair of Speedos like he belongs on a Calvin Klein runway. “I might wear these all the damn time. Look out, ladies.”
Catcalls ring through the bus, which only makes him strut more.
I first broached the idea about showing up at Kenna’s meet with Coach, and he loved it. Athletes supporting athletes. Some real school pride. I have to give it to the guys, they took to it, too. Some of them, I’m sure, are only interested in checking out the girls in their swimsuits, but others, like Aidan, totally get what we’re actually trying to do.
Warner football gets all the props on campus, but the swim and dive team are really good. After practicing with Kenna the last couple weeks, I can say for sure that they put just as much into their sport as we do. I don’t know how well attended these meets are, but it can’t hurt to show support—and show Kenna that football players aren’t all bad. We don’t just care about ourselves.
I peer down, squinting at my complete lack of clothing.
Damn. These Speedos are tiny.
Suddenly, I’m having second thoughts. These things aren’t made for someone with my build, but all around me, the other guys are getting into it. They’re painting each other’s chest, spelling out Bulldogs in royal blue.
“I’m theD,” Cade calls. “For obvious reasons.” He smirks down at his crotch, welcoming the banter that comes next.
For the love of God…
I thought he’d have a harder time this morning, but Cade’s a pro. If you didn’t know he’d drank himself into oblivion last night, you wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he’s acting today. He’s his usual fun self.
Good. We need him at his best during the game.
The bus starts to slow, and I gaze out the window as it crawls to a stop outside of a steel building. Huge silver metal beams form triangles in front, making an entrance that sticks out geometrically.
Coach stands and turns toward us, demanding our attention. He calls out in that way that only Coach can, his eyes steely and hard. “Listen up. We’re here to support our Bulldog teammates. You will cheer your asses off because we want everyone to know that Warner football supports others.Warner footballtakes pride in our school.Warner football,” he takes a deep breath, letting the tension build, “fucking cares. If I hear of any shenanigans in there, I will pull you from the game so fast your head will still be spinning after the fourth quarter. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand?” he yells again, punctuating each word.
“Yes, sir!” comes the rallying cry as my teammates wake the fuck up. Coach has that way about him, making people perk up and pay attention. Hecommandstheir focus.