Page 3

DAMON

ME :

SOS. Meet me at my place before practice.

JACE :

Dammit. I was supposed to have lunch with Brynn.

I scoff, staring at my phone in disbelief. Is he really that whipped?

What the hell am I saying? Of course he is. Jace Taggart might be our best wide receiver, but he’s as fluffy as a marshmallow when it comes to his girlfriend, Brynn.

Jace, Chris, Brandon, and my roommate, West, have become some of my closest friends on the team.

Hell, they’re my closest friends on campus.

But ever since Jace and Chris, our number one running back, got coupled up, they’ve become about as reliable as a screen door in a hurricane—always flaking for date nights, coffee runs, or whatever other nonsense their girls have planned.

I remember those days, just like I remember all they lead to is heartbreak.

I inhale, reminding myself that just because I think love is one giant ruse doesn’t mean everyone needs to feel the same.

ME :

Seriously, dude. Are you really going to leave me hanging because you want a quickie before practice?

JACE :

Who said anything about it being quick?

CHRIS :

I can vouch for his stamina.

brANDON :

I have to chime in here with a giant WTF?

ME :

Do we even wanna know how you know that?

CHRIS :

Get your heads out of the gutter you fucking creeps. I know, because these walls are THIN.

JACE :

You listen to us?!

brANDON :

That’s messed up.

CHRIS :

Whatever. Like he doesn’t ever listen to me and Lettie.

JACE :

I don’t.

CHRIS :

Sure ya don’t.

ME :

Who the fuck cares. Can we get back to the point? I called an SOS and you guys are talking about screwing.

CHRIS :

Is lunch included in this cry for help?

WEST :

We have leftover pizza.

Leave it to West to chime in when it’s useful.

I mentally thank him while rounding the corner to the athlete apartments and make my way inside to the second floor as I type: Just get your asses over here.

Ten minutes later, we’re sprawled out in the living room of the apartment West and I have shared since last year, when my previous roommate, a senior and one of our defensive ends, graduated.

A half-empty pizza box sits on the coffee table between us, along with the paltry contents of our fridge, which include a block of cheese, a questionable meatball sub, and some chicken salad from the dining hall on campus.

“So, are you going to tell us what this emergency meeting is about, or what?” Chris says as he shoves a slice of pizza in his pie hole.

“Maybe he’s lonely and just wants our company?” Jace winks, and I roll my eyes.

“Aw, is that it? Are you lonely, Huhn?” Brandon coos.

“Okay, assholes.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not lonely,” I say as if even the thought is repugnant.

What I am is freaked the fuck out.

With a sigh, I open my mouth to explain about Avery before promptly snapping it shut.

Jace and Chris are madly in love; their heads are constantly in the clouds.

How can I expect them to understand what it’s like having to see her again after all this time when they have no idea what that kind of heartbreak feels like?

Scrubbing the back of my neck with my hand, I hedge, suddenly uncertain if I want to unload this on them. “You know what? Never mind. Forget it. Everything’s fine.”

“What? No way. You’re not getting off the hook this easy,” Chris says with a shake of the head.

“Yeah. I had plans,” Jace adds with a meaningful look.

Brandon scoffs. “Yeah, we heard about your loud-ass plans already, remember?”

Jace narrows his eyes at him before turning to West. “You’ve gotta have some idea what this is about. You live with the man.”

West shrugs and brings a slice of pizza to his lips, knocking off a piece of sausage in the process. I watch as it falls and bounces down his shirt like a fucking rubber ball, leaving a massive sauce skid mark in its wake.

I shake my head, wondering how this fucker can possibly be one of the best kickers in the league yet have the dexterity of a toddler.

“You know how he is,” West says, frowning as he absentmindedly dabs at the sauce with a napkin. “He’s got zero feelings.”

Relieved, I sink back into the sofa.

“But, if I had to guess,” he continues, setting his pizza back in the box, “I’d say this is about Avery.”

Well, shit.

I stare at him for a moment, slightly mollified. For a clumsy, introverted motherfucker, he’s awfully astute. It’s not like I’ve gone around blabbing about her. In fact, I do everything in my power not to think about her.

I glance away from where his blue eyes with their odd purple hue are locked on mine to find the rest of the guys eyeing me now.

“Damn, he’s right,” Brandon says, the first to speak.

“Fuck.” Jace sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at me like I’m an exhibit. “I knew the second you told us your ex was transferring here, that she was going to be a problem.”

“That’s because women are always the problem,” I grumble.

Taking a deep breath, I try to relax, but it’s hard when all four men in this room are relying on me these next few weeks.

They’ve seen how hard I’ve worked. Hell, they’ve been there with me every step of the way during the last two years, since I started as our first-string QB my sophomore year.

Winning the College Football Playoff National Championship is a dream for all of us; it’s everything I’ve busted my ass to accomplish, and not just in the three years I’ve been playing college ball.

I also played in high school, and even before that when I sacrificed my summers, choosing football camp over lazy days at the pool, barbeques, and ice cream.

It’s years of work and dedication, blood, sweat, and tears.

And it’s my ticket to the NFL?my future, and possibly theirs, too.

“Alright, come out with.” Chris gestures with his hands. “Tell Daddy Collins all about it, and I’ll give you some fatherly advice.”

“First of all”?I hold a finger up?“don’t fucking call yourself Daddy. Second”?I hold another finger up?“why in the hell do you think I would take advice from you?”

“Um, hello?” Chris motions around him. “I helped Jace catch Brynn.”

“This again.” Jace pinches the bridge of his nose, looking more like an exhausted parent, rather than a college sophomore. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“And,” Chris says, ignoring him, “I bagged one of the hottest chicks alive, even though she couldn’t stand my ass, so I’m basically a love expert now.

A certified genius. Are we forgetting about the Love Playbook?

Maybe you need to borrow it. I’d be willing to loan it to you for a fee.

” He tilts his head as if thinking. “Well, on one condition, actually.”

“What? No. I don’t want the stupid Love Playbook.”

“Are you sure? Because the shit in there is solid gold.”

“I’m sure,” I grind out, tone sharp. “I don’t even want?” I stop and drag a hand over my face. “Just forget about the Love Playbook and focus for a minute, will you?”

“Brandon’s next.” Chris ignores me, and motions toward a frowning Brandon.

“Me?” Brandon points to himself, eyes wide, as if he’s afraid.

“Yeah, you,” Chris scoffs, and hooks a thumb at him. “Genius, this guy.”

Brandon scowls. “Why do I need your help? I told you. I don’t have a thing for?”

“Tatum,” Jace finishes for him. “Yeah, we know.” He rolls his eyes, and even I have to snicker because Brandon is so far in denial about his feelings for his best friend he might as well be swimming laps in Egypt.

“Right.” Chris laughs. “Just like the sun rises in the west, the sky is green, and Santa Claus doesn’t exist.”

Jace frowns. “Um, hate to break it to you, bro, but Santa doesn’t ?”

“Anyway,” Chris cuts him off with an eye roll, like what a clown, “back to Damon. You can tell me, us, ” he clarifies, gesturing between the guys, “whatever is on your mind.”

I pick at a fallen slice of pepperoni in the box, wondering what the hell to say. At the time, I’d been reeling from seeing her again, and I’d needed to unload. But now . . .

Fuck it. I need someone to vent to. I can’t handle this on my own. I can’t.

“I saw her this morning,” I blurt, crossing my arms over my chest as if to shield myself from the memory. “She’s in my Tightwaddery class, and she sat right down beside me.”

“Hold up.” Chris raises a hand. “What the fuck is a Tightwaddery class and why are you in it?”

I roll my eyes. Leave it to Chris to focus on the insignificant details. “I thought it was an easy elective.”

Chris snorts, and I motion toward him. “Like you’re one to talk when you took that Taylor Swift class last semester.”

Chris gasps and points a finger at me. “That class was legit. It applied literary analysis tools to Swift’s lyrics.”

“Whatever, bro, it was lame.”

“Can we get back on topic?” West interrupts.

“ Thank you ,” I say, jerking my head toward him. Who’s winning Best Roommate of the Year award? This guy.

“Fine,” Chris grumbles. “Carry on.”

“ Anyway , she shows up out of nowhere in my first class and fucking asks if the seat beside me was taken, and I just stared at her like a dumbass for five minutes until the professor arrived and it was too late to leave. So, she sat down while I contemplated my fucking bad luck while class started, then afterward, she followed me out and asked if we could talk.”

“Damn.” Brandon leans back against the couch, rubbing the light scruff over his jaw.

“Back up,” Jace says from his spot on the floor in front of the couch. “Before you continue, we need some history here. Details. All we know about her is that she’s your ex.”

“Yes,” Chris snaps a finger, pointing at him.

“We need context, so we know what we’re dealing with here.

Were you high school sweethearts? Best friends turned lovers?

Or maybe this was some kind of forbidden romance gone wrong?

Did you take her V-card? Were you in love, or was it mostly infatuation? Opposites attract? What?”