Page 16 of Love at Second Down (Boys of Ann Arbor U #2)

“The big deal? The big . . .” Jace laughs, a nervous sound.

“The big deal is this is a co-ed dance, meant to bring girls and boys together in a fun and safe dating environment.” He waves an arm to where Paul stands with his friends, “And right now, I have a kid who just broke a girl’s heart by saying he needs to focus on himself and on baseball if he wants to get a scholarship.

Brynn’s currently with his girl, Mindy, as we speak, trying to talk her off a ledge. ”

Sure enough, across the room, Brynn has a petite brunette ugly crying in her arms.

“Oops.” I wince.

“Yeah, oops .” Jace rakes a hand through his hair. “Do you know how long I’ll have to hear about this?”

“Tell her it was bound to happen anyway,” I say with a dismissive wave. “Better now than later. Only two?”

“Percent of high school relationships last,” Chris finishes for me. “Yeah, we heard.”

“Well, sorry for telling the truth. What do you want me to do about it now?” I ask, throwing my arms up.

“Just . . .” Jace splutters. “Keep your jaded opinions and statistics to yourself for the next hour. Do you think you can do that?”

“Fine. Yeah, okay.” I sigh. No lie, I feel like he’s being overly dramatic.

“Great. Now that we have that covered, you can join Brandon at the refreshment table since you can’t be trusted on your own.”

“Really? I need a babysitter now?” I ask, brows raised.

Jace glares at me with a What do you think? look on his face.

With a roll of my eyes, I stalk toward the refreshment table, grumbling the entire way. “Fine. I don’t want to be alone, anyway,” I say.

“What are you in trouble for?” Brandon asks as I join him behind the table, refilling cups from a two-liter bottle of soda.

“Giving advice is apparently unappreciated around here,” I mutter.

Brandon snorts, and I’m about to ask him just what the hell is so funny when he reaches inside his suit jacket and pulls out a stainless-steel flask, the metal glinting under the overhead lights before he shoves it back inside. “How about we make this dance a little more interesting?”

“Fuck, no!” I whisper-hiss as I glance around to ensure no one else saw. “These kids aren’t even sixteen. They’re already pissed at me for giving them relationship advice, and you wanna give them booze? Are you crazy?”

Brandon glares at me before he shoves me in the shoulder. “I’m not talking about spiking their drinks, jackass. I’m talking about spiking ours !”

“Oh.” I straighten. “That’s a lot more sensible.”

“Ya think?” He rolls his eyes.

I eye the spot on his jacket where I now know the flask resides and shake my head.

“Regardless, we shouldn’t. We have a championship game to win.

We need to be on our A-game, at our absolute best. No alcohol.

No sugar or garbage. We need complete discipline for just two more weeks.

Two.” I hold up my fingers, and Brandon groans.

“How did I know you would say that?”

“Because I’m your QB and your captain.” I grin. “And because we have a game to win.”

With a sigh, Brandon grumbles and stares back into the hallway as if looking for an escape. I match his stance, deciding this really isn’t the worst thing?hanging with my boys post-win, and doing good for a bunch of underprivileged teens?when the double doors to the entrance open.

A gust of wintry air sweeps inside, followed by a figure dwarfed in a large coat, but all I can see is the back of her snow-dusted hood as Brynn and Charlotte rush to greet her.

Bored, I pour myself some more cola when Brandon nudges me in the arm. “Hey, who the hell is that ?”

I lift my gaze to where he’s pointing and do a double take as the girl?no, woman?in question shrugs off her coat, and shifts on her feet, revealing a waterfall of blonde curls, and my heart freezes.

No. No. No. No.

I melt, grunting as I lean heavily on the table in front of me as I try to get my bearings.

“Wait.” Brandon frowns. “Isn’t that—”

“Avery,” I interrupt.

“Oh shit,” Brandon hisses.

“Forget what I said earlier.” I straighten, tipping my cup out toward him. “Hit me up.”

“What?” Brandon asks wide-eyed.

“The flask. What’s in it?” I ask, impatient. “Hit me up.”

“Wait. What about being two weeks away from the championship, and being our best, and absolute discipline and shit?”

“Forget what I said,” I growl, shoving my cup into his chest. “That was all bullshit. Now are you going to help a brother out, or what?”

Brandon takes a step back, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Now I don’t know if I should.”

As if I’m telepathic, West comes out of nowhere, looking bored as hell. “What’s up?”

“You wanna know what’s up?” I turn on him, eyes flashing angrily. “Avery’s here, and this fucker,” I growl, pointing at Brandon, “is holding out on me.”

West arches a brow at Brandon, who explains, “Minutes ago, Mr. Responsible was lecturing me on the flask I brought, saying we need to be disciplined and blah, blah, blah. But now he wants to get trashed.”

“Not trashed,” I say, risking a glance toward Avery, who’s laughing at something the girls said. “Just enough to take the edge off.”

So that I don’t explode in a fit of rage or make a fool out of myself.

I inhale, nostrils flaring as I recall my conversation with Avery in Chris’s apartment and add, “The last thing I want is for Avery to think I can’t handle being around her.”

Brandon and West exchange a knowing look. “But isn’t that exactly why you want a drink now?”

“Just shut the fuck up and give me the flask, will you? As your captain, I demand it,” I snap.

“Okay, okay.” With a sigh, Brandon pulls the metal flask from inside his pocket and says, “No need to get bossy.”