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CHAPTER ELEVEN

BECKHAM

In the month since Charlie moved in and school started, it has been less awkward than I thought it would be.

The cot that Lindsay brought over, which is really more like a rollaway bed, is sitting against the only open wall space in the room—between the closet and the door to the hallway—which means I basically have a clear view of her while she’s sleeping. And, yeah, I realize that’s creepy, but it’s been a long-ass time since I’ve been alone with this girl in a room.

I tug a shirt over my head and walk past her bed, which smells like her coconut shampoo even though she’s not in the room.

The other day, she was in here, painting her toenails the deepest shade of pink, and she looked so damn pretty, just sitting at my desk with her leg curled up. She was biting her lip as she concentrated on painting one nail at a time. It took everything in me not to crawl across my bed and pull her by the ankles so she was splayed out in front of me and kiss up her body like I used to.

I let out a groan, just remembering how she’d tasted.

As I sat in bed, I tried to concentrate on my laptop and focus on the screen, pretending not to stare at her.

While my dick can’t keep control of itself, my mind is in a good place when it comes to me and Charlie.

Things have changed since she moved in.

She’s not the same girl she was when we were in high school. Charlie grew up while we were apart. I can tell by the way she speaks with confidence and that twinge of sass. She navigates campus alone in a way I never would have imagined. She used to need Casey and me for everything. I even like that she goes to the sorority house to spend time with Arbor and Lily. They’re good for her. Not like Britney.

Damn, just thinking about Britney makes my fists clench. How could one girl ruin seven years of a good thing?

It’s been easy, not talking about the past. I’m good at burying that shit where it needs to be. No need to bring it up. Let’s move on, and everything will be good.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

And why would I want to worry about past pains when right now, in the present, is going way too fuckin’ good.

I’ve got Charlie sleeping in my room.

My best friend lives down the hall.

And tonight, we won our first home game of the season.

I scored one touchdown and had one hundred thirteen yards rushing. My dad and my sister were there to see it, which made me happy. I know my dad loves coming to watch me play. We’ve come a long way, the three of us. Brooke and I didn’t have the easiest childhood. Not because of my dad, but because my mom was abusive and a severe alcoholic.

Again, past shit I don’t like to think about, let alone talk about.

Casey and Charlie’s parents drove down with my dad and sister. And because we had an early afternoon game, we went out to dinner at our favorite taco joint with our parents, then met the rest of our friends back at the house.

Now, it’s time to party.

While our place is one of the football houses on campus, we rarely have parties here. We made an agreement when we moved in that we would keep the place intact the best we could. So, we’re heading out to one of the other football houses to party.

Charlie met up with some of the girls from her sorority after dinner, and I’m not sure if she plans to come to the party. I hope she does, just so I can keep an eye on her. The thought of her hooking up with someone else … yeah, I can’t go there. I’m just hoping she makes her way to the party. I don’t care if she brings her friends, but I definitely want her there.

With me.

“Yo, Linson. You ready to ride or what?”

Archie comes to my doorway, already dressed in jeans and a Texas Forever T-shirt. Charlie will love it because she is a huge Friday Night Lights fan. I know she loves that one guy, Tim something. Whatever. That shirt will probably end up in her pile of clothes at some point. She was always stealing my shirts.

Stuffing my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans and my keys in the front pocket, I pop a mint, and with one last swipe of my hand through my hair, I turn from my dresser and toward the door.

“Let’s roll, Griff. You looking for anyone special tonight or whoever comes your way, brother? You had a hell of a game today, and you, my friend, deserve to find someone to celebrate with.” I egg him on.

“Fuck yes, I deserve to celebrate. I’m covered in bruises from saving your sorry ass from getting pummeled,” he says with a jab to my sore ribs.

“Ow. Fuck, Arch,” I say, dodging another jab while we walk into the main living space together. “My cage is sore too, brother. Those motherfuckers were gunning after me the whole game. I swear they knew our plays before we ran them. We’re lucky we pulled it out today.”

“Dude, I’m glad it was you and not me,” Casey says from the kitchen. “Anyone need a beer? I need to get my pregame on before we head out. I’m in the mood to blow it up tonight.”

Archie and I both agree to the beer, and Casey comes into the room with two beers in each hand.

“You double-fisting, Case?” I ask.

“Did you think I was joking when I said I was ready to get lit? Let’s fucking go, man! Where’s Pitz? He coming with us, or is he out with that one girl he’s been talking to?” Casey asks.

Archie nods and says, “He said he’s going to meet us there, but didn’t say where he was heading before the party.” He takes a drink of his beer, then lifts it up. “Okay, boys, let’s gather round.”

Casey and I both laugh, knowing what’s about to come out of his mouth.

“Let’s bow our heads and send a prayer to the man upstairs.” Archie drops his chin to his chest, looks at us, and says, “Do it, fuckers.”

So, Casey and I lower our heads, look at each other, and smirk. Archie has his eyes closed now, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say.

“May your glass stay full. May your dick stay hard. And may you be in heaven (and by heaven, I mean, pussy) for at least a half hour before the Devil knows you’re dead (and by dead, I mean, blow your load). Amen. Let’s go, boys. Bring it in.” Archie puts his fist out to bump mine, then Casey’s.

“Are we walking over or driving?” Casey, still laughing, asks.

“I ain’t driving. I’ll just walk home later,” I say.

“Fellas, I don’t plan on coming home tonight. Feel? I’ll get a ride home in the morning,” Archie says with a wink.

“Dude, just remember to wrap it up. We definitely don’t need any baby Griffs running around the world yet.” Casey slaps his shoulder.

Archie walks out of the front door first, then Casey. I take my keys out of my front pocket, pull the door closed, and lock it. The house we live in was built in the ’80s and still has the original door handle on it, so I have to lift up on the handle and jiggle it to make sure the lock is in place. Then I step down from the porch stoop and jog to catch up to Casey and Archie.

“Beck, did Charlie say if she was coming tonight?” Casey asks.

“I overheard her talking with someone before she left the restaurant while you were talking to your parents. Sounded like she was going out with some of the girls from the house. I’ll shoot her a text later and see where she is.”

Casey looks over at me and grins.

“What, fucker? What’s the smirk for?”

“Huh? Nothing, man. Nothing at all. Just funny that you’re back to texting with her and she’s been here for, what, a month?” Casey laughs.

“Fuck off, King. One of us has to keep an eye on her. You’ve been too preoccupied with Noelle to know what your own twin is up to.” I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he’s hitting a sore spot for me.

Casey slings his arm around my shoulders. “Dude, shut the fuck up. You know I’m just playin’ with you. I truly do appreciate that you’re a stage-five clinger—I mean, friend to my sister.” He removes his arm and leans forward toward Archie. “Am I right, Arch?” He punches Archie in the shoulder, who just turns around and looks at us with a smile.

Fucking asshole, always happy and shit.

“Whatever. And where is Noelle tonight? Will we be seeing her? Is that why you’re in such a good mood?” I poke.

“Ha! I mean, she might show up tonight, might not. Who knows? I haven’t talked to her since yesterday.”

“You mean, you guys didn’t text all night and she didn’t wish you luck today? Wow, you must really be jonesing for her then, huh, buddy?”

Do I want to dig in to my friend? Not really, but now he has me thinking about where Charlie is more than I already was. Dick.

He doesn’t say anything, just laughs me off, and we continue walking to the party and recalling the game we played earlier in the day. As we round the corner, we can hear the music coming from the house. Luckily, because we live on campus, and … well, because we’re athletes, the party isn’t likely to get broken up. Not only is the house literally vibrating from the music, but people are standing on the porch with drinks, and I think there might be a couple banging in the corner.

As we walk in, Archie holds up both arms and says, “Ladies and dicks, the party can begin. I have arrived! Let’s get fucked up, motherfuckers! Cowboy up!”

He strolls in with a gallop and moves right into a group of girls who are dancing to the music. He puts his arms around one of the girls while another moves in behind him, so now all three are gyrating. Knowing Archie, I’m sure it’s about to become real dirty. He’ll likely have one girl—or both—in a bed tonight.

“Let’s go find the keg,” Casey says.

I nod and follow him through the crowded room and to the back of the house where the kitchen is, but my guess is that they have the keg in the backyard, where we hear some of our teammates yelling, “Chug, chug, chug!”

Two of our teammates and linemen, Chris Schuster and Dan Smith, are holding up our freshman kicker, Leo Morris, by his legs while he’s doing a keg stand.

Morris taps out, and as he’s brought back down, he spits out beer into the crowd standing near the keg and yells, “Let’s fucking go!”

Casey and I look at each other and laugh. This kid is going to be so fucked up tonight. But we’ve all paid our dues, and now it’s his turn. We’ll keep him safe. As a team, we never let each other get into a bad situation. We watch out for our teammates.

“KING! Get over here, asshole.” Schuster holds his arm in the air, waiting for Casey to reach up for a high five.

They slap palms and pull each other in for a bro hug.

“Dude, I saw your sister inside. I forgot she was coming here this year. Does she have a guy, or is she fair game?” Smith asks Casey.

One minute, I’m smiling, and the next, my gaze snaps to Smith at the mention of Charlie, and I swear I’m ten seconds away from punching my defensive lineman in the face.

“Charlie’s here?” I ask, my interest in her whereabouts way too obvious based on these assholes’ expressions.

Smith looks at Casey, then back at me and nods. “Yeah, she’s in the basement, playing beer pong with some of the guys. She your girl, Linson?”

“What? No. We just didn’t know if she was coming here tonight or not.” I shrug.

“Yeah, uh-huh.” He nods, then says, “Okay, boys, let’s head into the house and get some shots!”

Casey turns to follow Smith and nudges my shoulder with a smirk.

“What?” I ask him.

“I’m going in to do some shots. Why don’t you go find my sister? You know, make sure she’s okay,” he says with a laugh, covering it with his fist.

“Fuck off,” I mutter as I walk away. To go look for Charlie.