Page 16

16

JAXON

I 'm running late. Coach Lackey, our Offensive Coordinator, kept me in film review longer than expected, breaking down every single missed route from Saturday's game like we hadn't crushed our opponents by three touchdowns.

Gotta love Monday mornings.

By the time I finally escape, I have exactly four minutes to get across campus to class.

I make it with seconds to spare, slightly out of breath as I push through the door. The classroom is already packed, students settling into their seats as the professor sorts through papers at the front. My eyes scan the room automatically, landing on the seat always open next to her.

And then, I see her.

Madison already has her notebook open, a pen twirling between her fingers, her eyes focused downward. As if she can sense me, she looks up, and our gazes lock. Her lips curve into a small, tentative smile—the kind that makes my chest tighten and my pulse quicken. It's nothing dramatic, just a slight upturn of her lips, a softening around her eyes, but it hits me like a tackle I didn't see coming .

For that brief moment, I forget everything else—the game, the team, the fact that I'm still standing in the doorway like an idiot.

I make my way to the empty seat beside her, my heart still racing from that smile, from the way her eyes followed me as I moved through the rows of desks.

I drop into my seat, stretching my legs out in front of me, trying to appear casual despite the drumming in my chest.

"Hey," I murmur, voice lower than I intended.

Her lips twitch slightly, almost like she wasn't expecting me to speak first. "Hi."

It's simple, easy, but for the first time in days, I feel like we're on steady ground again. That small smile was the first real one she's given me since that night, and I want to hold onto it, to keep it safe like something precious.

She hesitates, shifting in her seat.

"How was your game this weekend?"

I blink, caught off guard.

"You didn't watch?"

The second the words leave my mouth, her face flushes, her hand instantly moving to tuck her hair out of her face. "I—" She clears her throat, suddenly fascinated by her notebook. "I was…busy."

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Busy, huh?"

She nods quickly, still avoiding my gaze.

I lean in just slightly, dropping my voice. "Damn. And here I was, thinking you were my good luck charm."

Madison groans, shoving my shoulder lightly. "Shut up."

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair, but before I can tease her more, our professor starts moving around the room, handing out our last test.

Madison barely glances at hers before groaning, sinking lower into her seat.

I smirk. "That bad?"

She tilts the paper just enough for me to see. 62%.

I wince. "Okay, yeah. That's…not great. "

She sighs, running a hand over her face before glancing at me.

"What'd you get?"

I hesitate, considering lying just to save her some dignity, but she narrows her eyes like she already knows I'm full of shit.

I flip my test over slowly, revealing my score.

98%.

Madison stares at it for half a second before deadpanning, "You've got to be kidding me."

I try to hold back my grin, but I fail miserably.

Her eyes narrow. "Jaxon."

I bite my lip, barely containing my laugh. "What?"

"Fuck off."

I finally lose it, laughing outright as she slaps my arm with her test. "Come on, it's not that bad?—"

"Easy for you to say, Mr. 98%," she mutters, sinking further into her seat.

“Hey, you gotta remember this is my second time taking this. My credits didn’t transfer, not enough hours or some sh-”

She silences me with a glare, reminding me she is also taking this class for the second time, and I wince.

I shake my head, nudging her knee lightly with mine. "I can help you more."

She exhales, looking over at me warily. "You're seriously offering to tutor me again? You do know you're in the midst of football season chaos, what with being a football god and all that."

I smirk. "What can I say? I'm a generous guy."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a small smile playing on her lips, an echo of the one that greeted me when I walked in, the one that's still making my heart beat a little faster than normal.

I tap my pen against my desk, considering my schedule. "I've got a lab this afternoon and practice this evening, but if you're free tomorrow at ten, we can meet at the house?"

She glances at me, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her test. "You don't have to do that, Jax."

I raise a brow. "You saying you'd rather fail? "

She exhales through her nose, staring at her 68 like she can will it into something higher. Then, finally, she sighs. "Fine. Tomorrow at ten."

I grin. "That's the spirit."

Madison mutters something under her breath, shaking her head, but I catch the way her shoulders relax just a little.

After 45 minutes that seem to stretch on for hours, class is finally over, and we head to the door.

"I'll see you in the morning," I tell her, trying to hold a stern expression. "Don't be late. I charge one Twix bar an hour, ya know."

Her laugh brings a grin to my face as she turns, facing me while walking backwards. "Whatever you say, hotshot. Whatever you say."

If only it really was that simple. If only a smile and a laugh were enough to erase the uncertainty between us. If only I could tell her every time she looks at me, it makes me forget everything else.

The shower runs hot, steam curling around me as I drag my hands through my hair, rinsing out the shampoo. My muscles are sore as hell from practice yesterday, a dull ache settling deep in my shoulders, but it's a good kind of sore—the kind that means I put in the work.

Normally, I'd take my time, let the heat work out the tension, but today, I move fast.

Madison is on her way.

I run a towel through my hair before glancing in the mirror, raking my fingers through the damp strands. Good enough. It's not like I'm trying to impress her or anything.

Just a study date, Montgomery. Calm your shit.

I shake the thought away, pulling on a pair of joggers and a plain white tee before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Most of the house is still quiet, a few guys just starting to stir, the others already at their classes for the day.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting the cap off just as my phone buzzes on the counter.

Mads

I'm here.

I grin, taking a sip before typing back.

Be right there.

Before I can make it to the door, a couple of my teammates beat me to it, pulling it open as they head out for class. They pause when they see Madison standing there in leggings and another oversized sweatshirt, her hair pulled into a messy bun, her hands tucked into her sleeves.

"Uh, Carter's not here," Beck says awkwardly as he leans against the door frame.

Madison blinks, then immediately looks mortified, her face turning pink as she shakes her head.

"I—yeah, I know. I'm not here for Carter."

I roll my eyes, stepping past them. "She's here for me, dumbasses."

Beck whistles under his breath.

"Damn, my bad."

Madison groans, crossing her arms. "You guys are impossible."

Before she can get any more flustered, I reach for her hand, my fingers closing around hers under the sleeve.

"Come on," I murmur, tugging her inside and shutting the door behind us.

I don't let go as I lead her past the kitchen, past the dining table where I originally planned for us to sit, and up the stairs toward my room.

She doesn't say anything, but I can feel her hesitation in the way she drags her feet just slightly, her fingers twitching in my grip.

When we reach my door, I push it open and glance back at her.

" I was gonna have us study downstairs, but…" I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling like maybe this was a mistake.

"Is this okay?"

She shifts on her feet, glancing around my room—at the made bed, the desk with papers stacked neatly, a textbook left open, shelves with more textbooks, books, and a couple old trophies, a pair of cleats tossed near the door.

Finally, she meets my gaze.

"Yeah," she says softly.

"This is okay."

I grab my notebook from my desk and drop to the floor, leaning against the edge of my bed.

Madison hesitates for a second before sitting down across from me, tucking her legs under herself, her oversized sweatshirt practically swallowing her whole.

I flip open my notebook and tap my pen against the paper.

"Alright, so what part of the test messed you up the most?"

She exhales heavily, dragging her fingers through the ends of her hair.

"All of it?"

I smirk.

"That's not helpful."

She groans, flipping her test over on her lap. "Fine. This one." She jabs a finger at a circled problem near the top. "I swear, I tried to figure it out, but it was like my brain just shut down. It's that whole solving systems of equations thing. I just don't get it."

I glance at the problem and nod. "Elimination method."

She gives me a blank stare. "Elimination method?"

I grin. "Okay, let me break it down."

I grab my pen and scribble out an example equation:

2x + 3y = 124x - y = 5

"Alright, so when you have two equations like this, the goal is to eliminate one variable so you can solve for the other."

She nods slowly. "And how exactly do I eliminate something? Because, trust me, if I could have eliminated this test, I would have."

I chuckle. "Yeah, well, that's not how it works." I point to the two equations.

"See how we have a +3y in the first one and a -y in the second? We need to make those numbers match so we can cancel them out. So, we multiply the second equation by 3 to make the '-y' turn into '-3y.'"

I rewrite the second equation underneath:

2x + 3y = 1212x - 3y = 15

Madison leans closer, studying it.

"Okay…and now?"

I glance up at her, making sure she's following. "Now, we add both equations together. The +3y and -3y cancel each other out, and we're left with?—"

I scribble it out, adding them up:

(2x + 12x) = (12 + 15) 14x = 27

Her brow furrows. "So…now I just solve for x?"

I nod. "Exactly. Divide both sides by 14."

She picks up her own pen and carefully writes it out. "X equals…27 over 14?" She looks up at me. "That's it?"

"That's it."

She blinks at the paper, then shakes her head. "Jesus. You make it seem so easy."

I smirk. "That's because it is easy."

Madison groans, flopping back against the carpet. "You're so annoying."

I laugh, reaching over to poke her knee with my pen. "Come on, let's do another one. You'll get it, I promise."

She sighs dramatically but sits up again, rolling her eyes. "Fine. But if I don't, I'm dropping out of school and becoming a trophy wife."

I bite back a grin, sending her a wink. "Good thing you've got me then."

Her cheeks flush slightly, and she quickly looks down at her paper .

And just like that, this study session just got way more interesting.

Almost two hours later, Madison groans dramatically and drops her pen onto the carpet before flopping backward with an exaggerated sigh.

"Nope. I'm done. My brain is officially fried." She stares up at the ceiling, arms spread out like she just collapsed from exhaustion. "I can't handle another equation, Jax. If you want me to survive, you need to feed me."

I smirk, stretching my legs out in front of me. "Oh, so now I'm responsible for your survival?"

She turns her head just enough to glare at me. "Obviously. I think I burned like a thousand calories just trying to keep up with your math-brained football player nonsense."

I chuckle, shutting my notebook and tossing it onto my desk. "Alright, alright. I'll make something."

Madison perks up, lifting onto her elbows. "Wait, make something? Like, you actually cook?"

I smirk as I push up to my feet. "What, you think I survive on protein shakes and meal prep from Mama Montgomery?"

She tilts her head, squinting at me. "I mean…kinda, yeah."

I shake my head, reaching down to grab her hand and pull her up. "Come on, smartass. I'll prove you wrong."

She lets me haul her to her feet, still looking a little skeptical, but I don't miss the way her lips twitch like she's fighting a smile, or the way her hands stays in mine just a few extra seconds.

And as we head downstairs to the kitchen, I realize something—Spending the morning with her, just being with her like this, feels way too easy, too right. And that smile she gave me when I walked into class? It's been replaying in my mind all morning, a promise of something I've been waiting for longer than I care to admit.