Page 53 of Lovesick (The Minnesota Mustangs #1)

A FRIENDLY RECONCILIATION

CREW

I ’ve never been anyone’s errand boy before, but I think I’m discovering certain things about myself. Like, for one, I’m not opposed to being praised for my good deeds, whether that’s in the bedroom or out of it. Especially if it’s coming from Merit’s mouth.

I’ve barely left her bedside this entire week. I’ve skipped classes, studied in her hospital room, started wearing one of those holster belts filled with energy drinks, and adhered to a diet of Jell-O cups and mystery lunch meat.

I offered to pick up her makeup work today, and Harlan has volunteered to be my entertainment for the afternoon. It’s good getting to spend time with him. The end of the semester is only a few weeks away.

Students mill around campus as the buttery sun moseys into the sky above the low-rise clouds—a nice reprieve from the overcast weather Minnesota’s been getting lately.

Harlan walks beside me, flicking through his chemistry flashcards.

I swing my backpack across my side, tucking a few Calculus packets into the pocket before readjusting it on my back .

“So, a little birdie told me that you and Irelyn are getting kind of cozy with each other,” I bring up.

He doesn’t even dignify my comment with a look, his head buried in empirical formulas. “Huh?”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Who told you this information?” he hedges, craning his neck up and narrowing his eyes in displeasure at me—for interrupting his study session and interloping on his suspiciously secretive personal life.

Harlan keeps to himself, and I respect that. I don’t expect him to spill all the beans, but his choice to remain impartial makes me think that this “thing” with Irelyn goes way beyond surface-level attraction.

“Nobodyyy,” I sing-song.

Everyone knows Foster is the town gossip, but I think he’d appreciate me keeping his identity a secret. I bet if I asked Irelyn, she’d fold faster than a lawn chair.

“We’re just friends,” Harlan says, unamused. He’s looking exceptionally homicidal today. If we weren’t in public, he’d probably dismember me and scatter my limbs out in the hinterland for broaching such a taboo topic.

“Friends who fuck?” I tease.

“OF COURSE NOT!” he screeches, and about twenty-some-odd eyes are on us in an instant, staring, waiting for the nonexistent fire to start smoking so they can panic in an orderly fashion.

He lowers his voice, embarrassment pooling in his florid cheeks. “I just mean…nothing is going on.”

I bump his shoulder. “Do you want something to happen?”

Harlan grows quiet—an unofficial yes—and pretends to linger on a card that’s an absolute walk in the park for him. I would know, seeing as he recites the correct answer every single time.

I wish he could see how badass he is, you know? I mean, he’s got the smarts and the looks. He’s the full package, but he’s just…shy. Any girl would be lucky to go out with him.

“I don’t really think it’s up to me.”

“Come on, dude! If you want to pursue something, you should go for it. I’ve seen you guys together—you’re perfect. She’s spunky, you’re nerdy. It’s like a rom-com waiting to happen.”

His pelagic eyes lighten with laughter, one eyebrow lifted to his hairline. “Crew Calloway? Talking about rom-coms? What has Merit done to you?”

I grab him by the arms and shake him frantically, the butterflies in my stomach doing a gold-worthy triple axel. “I don’t know! I think I’m going crazy!”

I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with Merit. She makes me giddy. Like, to the point where I’d start singing and dancing if this were a musical. I thought this level of bliss was only achievable through high-grade marijuana.

I’m a changed man. An incredibly down bad, changed man. I can’t wait until I can flaunt her around campus.

“Damn, I never thought I’d see the day when Crew Calloway hangs up his notched belt,” Harlan quips, squirreling out of my grip and sliding his travel-sized study guide into his backpack. “You really love her, don’t you?”

“More than I ever thought possible,” I admit with unflinching conviction, adoration revving to life behind the handlebars of my ribs, my mouth sore from the permanent smile on my face.

Merit Lawson has single-handedly caulked the cracks of my life together with her gentle love, and I’ll spend the rest of my time on this earth making it up to her.

Aimless in our excursion, I’m about to redirect the interrogation lamp when Knox, of all people, tracks us down like we’re fugitives on the run, jogging over to us with an air of cordiality.

I don’t talk to the guy, so I have absolutely no idea what he wants.

And frankly, I don’t have time to dog-walk him.

My body hasn’t forgotten about the hell he put me through during practice. Hatred crackles in my belly, and I use the thought of my perfect girlfriend as self-medication to keep me from flipping out.

Harlan is just as confused as I am. “Knox?”

Knox scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Hey, uh, I just wanted to see how Merit was doing. I know we don’t really talk, but Friday was kind of intense.”

He wants to know how Merit is? Has he been possessed by some extraterrestrial being? I got the impression early on that Knox doesn’t really care about anyone but himself, and he hasn’t shown me otherwise. It’s taking everything in me not to laugh right in his face.

Warily, I cross my arms over my chest, giving him an indifferent once-over. “She’s doing better.”

He rocks back on his heels, his hands twisted in the straps of his backpack. “That’s really good to hear. The whole team has been worried about her.”

Knox? Worried? You mean he’s capable of feeling more than green-eyed envy?

“I heard you took over for her at the auction,” Harlan pipes up, playing unofficial peacekeeper between the two of us.

My best friend doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.

I don’t think I’ve even seen him hurt a fly.

Every bug he finds in a human-sanctioned zone has to be escorted out safely.

No killing allowed on the premises. I, on the other hand, approach most situations with guns blazing and will not hesitate to spray the hell out of a spider in my house.

Knox flushes. “Oh, yeah. It was no big deal really. She did a great job as an auctioneer. I just wanted to try and keep things sailing as smoothly as possible. ”

Shortly after Harlan and I arrived at the hospital, Irelyn, Sutton, and Foster were a few minutes behind us.

“ You took over the auction?” I splutter in disbelief.

“I’m a team player first and foremost,” he replies.

HAH! Team player. Right. Says the guy who was butt hurt that I stole captain from him—which I didn’t. He wasn’t promised that title, okay? The best got it, and, well, the outcome speaks for itself.

I press a fist to my forehead, laughing maniacally under my breath, and the devil on my shoulder is hijacking my morals. “I just…I can’t imagine you being likeable enough to stand in front of an audience for an hour.”

“Crew!” Harlan chastises, thwapping me on the arm.

Knox—putting that one working brain cell of his to good use—surprisingly doesn’t retaliate. “No, I deserve that. I’ve been a complete asshole to you. For no other reason than me being a petty, sore loser, and I’m really sorry about that.”

He’s…taking accountability?

Shock webs my muscles together—swiftly followed by a whit of arrogance—but then the sad, sad reality of me being the bigger person and squashing our beef comes to a head. The right thing to do would be to forgive him. Not just in my own best interest, but in the team’s.

“I appreciate the apology, but why now?” I ask.

Knox’s eyes frost over with something similar to regret, and his voice pours over me, chilled, like a scotch on the rocks. Harlan’s mouth screws up into a preemptive grimace.

“I…I know what it’s like to have someone close to you be hospitalized. It’s fucking scary, and the fact that you had to watch everything happen in front of you—I understand the paralyzing fear you felt in that moment,” he explains, nudging the toe of his sneaker against a crack in the sidewalk.

I realize that whatever I thought I knew about Knox isn’t true in the least .

Call it character development, but in that truth-bearing instant, all the loathing takes a long hike.

As depressing as it is, a part of me is relieved that someone else in the world understands how scary almost losing your favorite person is.

And if there’s one thing I learned through Merit’s hospitalization, it’s that trauma can bring anyone together, no matter the hostility that existed beforehand.

“Shit, man. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I just wish I had made things right with you sooner,” Knox confesses, roughing the front of his hair with his hand as embarrassment slopes down the thick of his neck and shoals over his collarbone.

Harlan’s head is on a constant swivel.

“I should’ve tried to talk to you when I first joined the team. I never wanted you to feel like I was stealing your spotlight. You’re a great player, Knox. Honestly, you’re far more fit to be captain than I am.”

“I don’t know, Calloway. This season has been pretty decent for your debut.”

I smirk. “What can I say? I’ve got a great team.”

Maybe Merit’s kindness and general like for the human population is rubbing off on me because I pull Knox into a hug before he can protest, and the stress from our rivalry melts off my shoulders like wax off a candle.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always here,” I whisper, hoping that maybe one day, he’ll take me up on my offer.

He only nods before drawing back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Harlan is about ready to bring out the confetti popper and start celebrating.

“It only took a few months, but you guys finally aren’t at each other’s throats anymore,” Harlan praises, a See, isn’t this better? expression on his face .

Relief flickers in the Baltic-blue depths of Knox’s eyes. “It does feel good to be on the same side for once,” he agrees.

I wish I’d tried harder to understand Knox. He’s not a bad guy—we just got off on the wrong foot. I guess I have a bad habit of making enemies before friends.

“Where are you headed?” Harlan questions.

“Muller Hall.”

A surge of restless, happy energy zings through me, and I extend the first metaphorical olive branch. “We have to pick up some classwork for Merit over there. Do you want to join us?”

Knox perks up. “Yeah, sure.”

As we continue to potter across campus—dodging bicyclists and trying not to get mowed down by perpetually late students—our new amigo apparently still has a taste for watching me squirm, because he brings up a topic that always makes my heart march.

“So, you and Coach’s daughter, huh?”

I go as stiff as a board, my thoughts getting lost in the catacombs of my brain, and my whole body superheats with hellfire.

“You know about that?” I croak around the shards of glass lodged in my throat.

“Dude, everyone on the team knows,” he chuckles.

Keeping my relationship with Merit a secret has been a Sisyphean effort, so the reality that everyone on my team—and probably everyone in the entire school—knows about us is nerve-racking to say the least.

“That’s…terrifying.”

“Are you kidding me? You guys are all over MU’s news outlets. You’re the hottest thing since Rudy Blankenburg knocked up three different girls and denied being the father.”

“Shit, I remember that. They all took him to court for child support,” Harlan adds .

Fear pollutes my lungs in a thick, opaque smog, and my vision brightens like floodlights on a football field.

Ironic, isn’t it? The guy with the reputation doesn’t want to walk in the limelight anymore. Things are different now because I feel the need to protect Merit from the world—gossip vultures included.

I consider airing a grievance, but my nerves seem to have the strength of a Molotov cocktail, counting on me to spontaneously combust on the spot. “I didn’t want to give MU a new gossip column.”

When I look into the blue wellsprings of Knox’s eyes, the pith of calm in them seems transferable.

“Don’t worry, everyone’s in total support of you guys. And if they aren’t, they can answer to the Mustangs.”

A growl condenses in Harlan’s chest. “That’s right. You mess with Merit, you mess with all of us.”

I wrap my arms around my teammates and pull them into my sides for a hug. “Thanks, guys.”

Knox, surprisingly, doesn’t sock me in the jaw for touching him. “We’re always going to be here for you, Cap.”

No more poised quills. No more potential crossfire. No more insults made of shrapnel. I haven’t felt this incredible in a long time. Like, no-longer-need-to-take-a-Xanax-daily incredible. This is unprecedented.

“Was I at least covert about my crush?” I ask.

Knox licks over his canine like a well-fed predator, grins, then pats me on the chest. “Sure, buddy.”