Page 11 of Hard Count (Newhouse University #4)

NASH

“Are you coming upstairs?” Eli asks from the doorway of my room. I glance at him then go back to the papers I have spread out over my bed. “I told you it was an accident.” He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks.

“I’m not mad about Drew running into you. I never was.” It’s the truth. I wasn’t mad she ran into him. I’m mad at myself for being irritated with the fact he was touching her.

“Then why are you sulking down here by yourself instead of celebrating our win with the rest of the team and half the campus upstairs?”

Thinking of our packed living room and backyard has me wincing. He could never get me to admit it but I kind of miss having Hart around for his party policing. He always kept the crowd manageable and made sure everyone left at a decent time.

“I’m not sulking. I’m thinking. ”

Eli peers at the mess of papers I could recite word for word I’ve read them so many times. “Do you think we would have won without that information?”

Sighing, I scrub my hand down my face and over the stubble I was too tired to deal with this morning. “I want to say yes but I’m not sure. How many plays would it have taken for you to figure out number seven ran a curl route every time he slapped his right thigh?”

“I would still be clueless. It doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have won.”

“No, it doesn’t.” The question is if I’m willing to risk playing a game without her analysis of the other team. Knowing more about my opponents helped me prepare physically but it didn’t cure my personal problem.

I still have a mental block. I still hesitated. I still threw away passes.

“You aren’t going to figure anything out tonight. Come upstairs and celebrate with everyone. You have to at least make an appearance.”

This is the part of being the starting quarterback no one tells you about.

For some reason my position on the team makes people believe they get unlimited access to me.

The better we perform on the field the more vulnerable my privacy becomes.

There are some players who thrive in the spotlight. I am not one of them.

“If seeing Ozzy and his new girlfriend doesn’t get you upstairs, I invited Frankie,” he says, dangling the carrot. The chance of Drew being here makes my heart beat a little faster and a rush of blood flow through my veins.

“When did Ozzy get a girlfriend?” I ask as I casually stack the papers on my bed and then shove them into my nightstand drawer.

“I don’t know exactly but he announced it the night you had dinner with Coach. It’s new and…awkward. Funny as hell to watch.”

I shuck off my shirt and find a fresh one in my closet. “That I have to see. I can’t picture him being uncomfortable in any situation. Let alone one with a woman.”

I spritz on some cologne and grab my phone before shutting off the light and locking my door behind me. We keep the basement and the top floor off limits, but there’s always someone looking to break our rules.

“Our guy is smooth. I’m not sure what happens to him when he gets around Holden. Maybe he really likes her.” Eli shrugs.

“Maybe.” I met Ozzy at orientation our first year at Newhouse. Unlike Gage, his only focus has been soccer. He doesn’t talk about his family often but everyone knows the Wilson family at Newhouse. They’re legacy. Shit, there’s a damn building named after them.

The music flowing through the Bluetooth hits me like a tidal wave as soon as I enter the living room.

Random students blur around me, occasionally patting me on the back in congratulations as I make my way to the kitchen.

If I’m going to survive even an hour of this, I’m going to need a drink.

Eli steers me to the back deck where they’ve set up coolers and a keg.

“Good game today,” Asher says from his post by the keg. I’m not sure why he’s hanging out here instead of with his friends. It’s not like he’s in charge of filling the cups. We have underclassmen for that.

“Thanks, man. You did good today too.” I take the red cup of beer being passed to me and give the underclassman a thanks. The beer is cheap and leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. At least it’s still cold.

“I kept you hydrated and cramp free,” he responds with a smile. “You guys did the heavy lifting. I still don’t know how you were able to read their offense so well,” he says to Eli. “I know you worked on a few new plays at practice but that was…” He shakes his head and lets out a slow whistle.

“It’s easy to read when you know what to look for,” I explain. Eli's eyes plead with me. I know exactly what he’s asking. We need Drew and it’s up to me to get her. Not only do I have to get her to agree to help when she was discarded, I also have to go behind my coach’s back to do it.

“Is Frankie here?” I ask Eli. He does a quick sweep of the backyard and comes up empty.

“Are you talking about Francesca? The gorgeous theater major with dark brown hair?” Asher asks and Eli responds with narrowed eyes and a curt nod. “She’s here. She has on a short red dress. Damn, she looked good,” Asher continues without realizing he just put his life on the line.

Eli wouldn’t hurt a fly but I’ve also never seen him get so worked up over another man complimenting a woman. I step in between the two of them since Asher doesn’t know when to stop talking. “Was she with anyone?”

He thinks for a moment. Eli pushes his chest into my back. He may have more bulk than me but I'm able to hold my ground. He bumps into me again and I elbow his sternum, making him grunt. I give him a look that says ‘ knock it off. ’

“Yeah. She had another friend with her. Blonde. Real cute. What do you prefer? Blondes, brunettes, or redheads? Did you know most girls don’t like blonds?” He shakes his blond hair and then finger combs it to straighten it back into place. “I’m screwed.”

“It seems he has a thing for brunettes,” I joke, nodding in Eli’s direction.

“What about you?” Asher asks.

“I don’t have a type.” It’s true. I don’t when it comes to looks.

A nice smile and pretty eyes usually do me in.

I’m more attracted to someone’s personality and the way we get along.

I want to be with someone that challenges me and who takes the time to get to know me—the man, not the football player.

“Do you know where they went?” Eli asks gruffly, rolling his eyes.

“That way.” Asher points to the living room. Eli is already halfway to the door. Dammit.

“Thanks, man,” I say, giving him a fist bump. I hear Asher ask one of our running backs what he would do if he won the lottery behind me. That’s why he likes standing here. More random people for his personal brand of questioning he likes so much.

It’s easy to spot Frankie in the living room dancing since she’s at least five foot nine barefoot. In heels, her head of brown curls sways above the crowd.

“Oh shit, Eli.” I grab his bicep. He glares down at my hand. The cute blond Asher was referring to is a man and he’s dancing with Frankie like there’s Velcro holding them together. “Do you know him? Is he a good dude?” He nods in response. “Then take a breath.”

I pass him while he takes a moment to compose himself. Eli and Frankie are friends. Have been as long as I’ve known him. But Frankie’s always had a boyfriend. I need to ask him if something’s changed. It would explain the way he’s been reacting to everything regarding her tonight.

Tapping Frankie on the shoulder, I smirk at the guy she’s dancing with. He's not happy I'm here. All he sees is the starting quarterback trying to cut-in. I'd be unhappy if I saw me coming too. “Hi, Frankie,” I say when she turns around.

Her eyes travel to my right where Eli has joined me. “Elijah.” He visibly relaxes to the sound of his full name coming from her mouth. I’ll be teasing him about that later.

“Did Drew come with you?” I ask.

“Good game,” she says to Eli, still ignoring me. “You really put the pressure on their quarterback. How did you get to him so fast? It’s almost like you had a list of special tips or something.” The way she’s gushing over Eli’s game isn’t going over well with her dance partner .

He doesn’t understand that it’s not just a compliment she’s relaying. It’s a direct message to me. I shouldn’t be surprised Drew opened up to Frankie. I’m glad she’s a friend and not just a roommate. It’s hard moving somewhere new when you don’t know anyone.

Drew reminds me of my sister—not like that.

Definitely not like that. When Sydney came to Newhouse she didn’t have any friends except our mutual ones.

I asked the guys to look out for her. I didn’t relax until my best friend Koa—who’s now my sister’s boyfriend—told me she’s made a good friend with her roommate, Lauren.

“Is she at home?” I ask, hoping she’ll show me some mercy. I can’t fix this if Drew won’t talk to me.

“Who said she wasn’t here? There are a lot of good looking people to talk to at this party.” She smiles at the blond guy still standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. He flashes a smirk at Eli that mimics a challenge. “Maybe she’s in a quiet corner talking to one of them.”

“Frankie, I would say I’m sorry but you aren’t the person I need to say that to.”

“No, I’m not.” She juts a hip and glares at me.

“Can you please give me your address or her number so I can call her?”

She scoffs. “I don’t think so. If she wanted to talk to you, she would.”

Irritated with myself and frustrated with the situation, I take a pleading step in her direction. Eli cuts me off with his phone in his hand. “I texted you their address. ”

“Elijah!” Frankie screeches. “You can’t do that,” she says to him and then turns to me. “She may not even be home. She was having dinner with her dad.”

The thought of her spending time with her dad by herself adds a new layer of worry. They weren’t in a good place the last time I saw her. She was hurt by both of us. I glance at my watch. It’s ten o’clock. She has to be home by now and if she’s not, I’ll wait for her. That wouldn’t be weird at all.