Page 20

DAMON

I sprawl across one of the plush, theater-style seats in the back of the film room with my teammates. The room is cool and dark, save for the neon glow of the film from Sunday’s game flickering over the giant screen.

The faint smell of stale popcorn lingers in the air as Jace settles in beside me, chucking a piece to Chris when Coach turns his back, fist-pumping the air when he catches it in his mouth like a guppy.

I snort and shake my head as Coach pauses the film on a wide shot of a play late in the first quarter. “What in the hell is this?” He jabs a finger at the image frozen on the screen, his voice hard as steel beneath the soft buzzing of the projector.

I grimace at the jumbled mass of bodies and the unmistakable sight of my jersey—blue with an orange 26—scrambling behind them with my arm cocked back, the ball leaving my grip in a sloppy pass.

I slouch lower in my seat as Coach’s beady eyes find mine, the pixelated image of myself making another dumb rush instead of waiting for something to develop is proof of how shitty I played.

We may have pulled out a win this time, but the championship game against Alabama is less than two weeks away, and everything I’ve worked for could slip through the cracks if I don’t get my head on straight.

Which is why I had to stop thinking about Avery. Focus on the game. Focus on football.

If only it were that easy.

“Damon!” Coach barks, and I jerk to attention, realizing I zoned off. Again. Not exactly the way to start the week. Still, all I can think about is my conversation with Avery at the dance last night?the way our hands brushed, and the memories she conjured.

“Sorry, Coach. I fucked up, Coach.”

His eyes narrow, and he tilts his head, clearly frustrated.

“This isn’t high school anymore,” he growls, his tone heavy with disappointment.

“You’re better than this, Twenty-Six. You had the pocket, but instead of stepping up, you panicked and threw a prayer.

That’s not how we win the championship.” He points at the screen again, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.

“Next week, you need to trust your line, trust your receivers. Don’t force the play—let it come to you. Got it?”

I nod, my stomach a tight knot, the weight of his words settling into my bones and sinking clear to the marrow. He’s right. I’ve got to shake off all the distractions, focus, and play smart. There’s no room for mistakes now.

I sigh and slouch lower in my seat while he restarts the film.

The bodies on the screen begin to scatter and move like ants on an anthill while I exhale, relieved to be off the hook.

At least until he finds another one of my blunders to point out, which won’t be too hard, considering I made a fuck-ton of them.

Chris turns in his seat, craning his head toward me. “The boys and I have been talking,” he whispers, and I groan.

“Don’t care,” I mutter, keeping my voice low so Coach won’t hear as he pauses on a defensive play, pointing out where our safety was out of position and slow to react while our linebackers were fooled by a play-action.

“We know what your problem is,” Brandon says, ignoring my indifference.

“And we have a cure,” Jace adds, from my left.

“A cure?” I arch a brow, then glance over at West on my right who’s still focused on the screen. Only the curve of his mouth indicates he’s listening.

Chris nods. “To get over Avery.”

I shake my head. “I am over her. I’v e been over her.”

“ Riiiiight, and I’m Chris Hemsworth,” Chris drawls.

“Actually, you do remind me of Chris Hemsworth,” Jace whispers.

“Really?” Chris’s blue eyes brighten. “I have the bone structure, don’t I?” He frames his face with his hands, then says, “You know, I always thought I’d make a good Thor.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying my best to focus back on the film and ignore the idiots around me.

“Anyway,” Chris says, “we’re getting off track.”

“Really?” I say with a roll of the eyes. “That’s so unusual for you.”

“We’ve been thinking,” Chris says, ignoring me, “and we’ve noticed you haven’t really dated much in the times we’ve been friends.

You don’t really take other girls out or go back to their place.

Even at Bradd’s, you drink and dance and flirt but go home alone.

So basically, we decided the best way to get over her is?”

“To get laid,” Jace says with an eye roll. “Way to bury the lede.”

“Hey, I was getting to it, okay?” Chris glares at him. “I was trying to be discreet,” he says with a huff.

I glance between the four of them like they’ve lost their damn minds. “You don’t think I’ve tried that? That I haven’t hooked up with other girls in the last two and a half years?”

Coach’s gaze jerks to the back of the auditorium, and all five of us snap to attention, our mouths clamped shut. But a few minutes later, once he’s back to bitching about the offensive line, I relax again, slumping back into my seat.

“Have you?” Chris asks, his blue eyes searing into the side of my skull.

I slink down in my seat, arms crossed over my chest while I try to control the heat creeping up my face.

“You have been with other girls since Avery, right?” Jace asks, like he’s suddenly scared of the answer.

The heat explodes, turning my cheeks to flames.

“Holy shit. You haven’t,” Chris says, looking stunned.

“So maybe I haven’t,” I say with a shrug.

“Wait.” Brandon leans closer, his eyes narrowed to slits. “You mean since she’s been back, right? You haven’t been with a chick since she’s been back.”

I cut him with a look that could kill, then focus back on Coach as I mumble, “Or maybe never. So what?”

“So what? So what ?” Chris shoves a hand into his hair, like this revelation changes everything he’s ever thought about me.

“Wait.” Jace chokes as he asks, “You mean, the only chick you’ve ever . . .” He trails off as I nod, my teeth clenched so tight, my jaw aches.

“I think it’s cool,” West chimes in, and I offer him a look of gratitude as he gives me knuckles. “Shows how much you really loved her, man.”

“Yeah, but now what?” Brandon asks, glancing back to Chris like I’m a lost cause.

“This changes things. You don’t need just a random hookup,” Chris says, as if talking to himself.

“It all makes sense now. You act all tough and macho, but the truth is you’re not that guy.

You’re a relationship guy in disguise, so you need a chick who’s girlfriend material, someone with real potential. ”

“I’m not a relationship guy,” I say as fear roils in my stomach. “And I don’t want someone with potential, because I don’t want anything that can’t go anywhere when football is my only priority. Period.”

Do I?

What does it mean that I haven’t been with anyone since Avery?

Fuck. These guys are getting to my head.

“Sorry, but we’ve known you for two years now, and with this new piece of information in mind, I call bullshit,” Jace chimes in.

I glance over at West in question, because out of all of us, he’s the most observant, the most levelheaded, and the least dramatic. If there’s a kernel of truth to what they’re saying, he’ll sniff it out. Surely, he’ll tell them they’re wrong.

But West just shrugs, his arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe they have a point,” he says.

“You suck,” I retort.

“Told you,” Chris says, his tone smug.

“Now is not the time to be talking about this,” I hiss-whisper as I rake a hand through my hair.

Why can’t I be on the field instead of stuck in this room with these Neanderthals?

“We need to focus on this weekend,” I say, pointing out the obvious.

“Exactly. Now is the perfect time to talk about this before we have a replay of what happened on Sunday,” Jace huffs.

“We won, didn’t we?” I say, hearing the defensiveness in my voice.

“Barely,” Brandon coughs into his hand, and Coach glances our way again. A few seconds pass before he turns back and any of us speak.

“What’s a better way to gain focus than to expel a little sexual energy?” Chris asks, and I have to say, he has a point, but still. What they’re talking about is more than sex. A relationship, if I’m even capable of one, is the last thing I need.

“Even if I was on board with this little plan of yours, which I’m not,” I say, leaning closer, my gaze flickering back and forth between Coach and the guys, “I don’t have time to find a chick worth dating right now.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Chris says with a wide grin, “so I did the honors of setting something up for you.”

“No!” I bark out, a little too loudly. “Say you didn’t . . .”

At the sound of my voice, Coach glances my way, his beady eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem, Huhn?”

I shake my head, clearing my throat. “No, sir. I, uh, it’s just that I should’ve recognized the blitz pre-snap by reading the defensive alignment and adjusted the protection or called a quick hot route.”

Coach frowns, absorbing my answer before he nods. “I agree with your analysis,” he says. “Moreover, the key going into the championship game is to stay calm under pressure, read the defense quickly, and trust their checkdowns instead of forcing risky throws.”

Sighing in relief, I immediately tense again when Chris says, “I have the perfect chick.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“She’s hot, sweet, looking for a relationship, and readily available,” Chris adds, ignoring me.

I frown, hating that I’m slightly intrigued. “Who?”

“Liz.”

My eyes widen. “Brynn’s roommate?” I turn to Jace for confirmation, and when he shrugs, I say, “Absolutely not.”

“Why the fuck not?” Chris huffs, sounding affronted, like it’s him I’m rejecting.

“Because when it goes south?and it will?Charlotte and Brynn will have my head.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “You’re scared of my girlfriend? Really, bro?”

I scoff. “Aren’t you? She can be pretty scary when she’s pissed.”

“You make a good point. However, Liz is still an excellent idea.”

“What about the fact that I already know her, and not once has she shown an interest in me.”