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Chapter eleven

Hudson

“Come on, please do this with me,” I plead with my teammates again, throwing in a dramatic pout, clasping my hands together under my chin.

Seb shakes his head without missing a beat as he tugs on his jersey. “Dude, there’s no way I’m doing any kind of video with you, especially if it involves dancing. Don’t even ask.”

“But you’ve got the perfect face for the camera!” I throw my arms in the air.

“Still no,” he says, grabbing his cleats and walking off.

Fine. Strike one. I turn my attention to Benny. Until the new freshmen showed up this year, he was our rookie, and honestly, he’s a solid wide receiver, one who’s done a great job replacing our friend Miles. But the second he notices my eyes on him, he tenses. Slowly, he leans back against his locker, bracing for an incoming tackle.

“No way, man,” Benny says, shaking his head. “The last one we did—”

“Went viral,” I cut him off with a knowing grin. “And I know for a fact you got attention from that.”

The room bursts into laughter. Benny groans, covering his face with one hand. Yeah, we all know the story; his viral fame directly led to a hookup that ended in an awkward ER visit. Nothing serious, just enough for the team to never, ever let him live it down.

“That’s not a selling point, Huds!” Benny’s voice becomes muffled behind his hands. “I’m traumatized.”

“Come on, you’re fully recovered now,” I tease. “It’s just a harmless filter challenge this time. No one’s getting hurt.”

Before I can press further, the door swings open, and in walks Jay, a camera slung around his neck, attention solely on the back of it. Perfect timing.

“There he is!” I exclaim, making a beeline for him. “My best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my—”

“What do you want, Huds?” Jay cuts me off, his tone flat. “I’ve got to prep for the game.”

Fine. No theatrics. “I need someone to do the filter challenge with me.” I get straight to the point. “You know, we both take a gulp of water, keep it in our mouths, and watch the filters change. It’s fuuuuuun,” I drag out, feeling my patience waver as the rejection pile grows.

Jay looks at me, then at Seb across the room. “Jesus, did no one wear him out at practice today?”

Seb huffs. “He’s relentless.”

“Don’t we all know it,” Jay mutters, looking back at me. His expression softens, just a little, like he knows I’m not going to stop. “Okay, look, here’s the deal. If you win today, like, really play your ass off, I’ll do the thing after the game. But right now, I gotta run, bud.”

“Promise?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

“Promise,” he says with a smirk. Then, before I can reply, he sidesteps me and disappears into the hallway.

Behind me, Seb lets out a low whistle. “Wow, he really played you there. I need to get tips from Jay on managing you.”

Flopping onto the bench, I groan, ignoring the managing me comment. “Now I’ve got to bust my ass and wait.”

***

The locker room is pure chaos after the win, with music blaring, guys shouting, and the occasional spray of water from a celebratory water bottle. Benny’s still riding the high of his game-winning touchdown, standing on a bench, one hand on his heart like he’s giving a victory speech.

“To the best teammates a guy could ask for,” he declares, raising his water bottle like a toast.

“Party at Benny’s!” Seb shouts from the corner, and the room explodes in cheers.

“Benny, do your roommates even know their house is about to be wrecked?” I call out, half-joking as I toss my sweaty jersey into the laundry basket and place my cap on my head.

“They’ll figure it out,” Benny shoots back, still grinning. “That’s what they get for living with greatness.”

I roll my eyes and grab a towel, then head for the showers.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re piling into Miles’s truck, crammed together like sardines. Benny lives just off campus in a house he shares with three other guys who play different sports at CLU, which is quickly becoming the unofficial party headquarters this year, since it’s nicer than The Hangout at our dorms, at least.

Miles pulls into the driveway, which is packed with cars already, and the faint thump of music travels outside. “How does this happen so fast?” he asks, glancing at Benny, who’s riding shotgun.

“Efficient networking,” Benny says with a wink, hopping out before the truck even fully stops. “Also, my roommates are legends.”

The second we step inside, it’s obvious the party’s in full swing. Someone’s set up lights that pulse with the music, and the smell of cheap beer and pizza wafts through the air. One of Benny’s roommates, Zach, from the hockey team, is in the kitchen, stacking red cups into pyramids, while another, Rex, from the basketball team, is organizing a beer pong game on their perpetually sticky dining table.

“Benny!” Zach calls out as he raises a can of beer in salute. “Your fan club beat you here.”

“They love me.” Benny throws his arms out like he’s welcoming his kingdom. “And I love them.”

Rex smirks from across the room. “Try not to trash the place too hard this time, yeah?”

Benny grins, but Seb claps him on the shoulder. “No promises,” he says, dragging Benny toward the living room where the music’s loudest.

I grab a drink from the kitchen and weave my way through the crowd, spotting teammates, familiar faces from campus, and more than a few strangers. It’s like the whole student body descended to Benny’s house at once.

A girl approaches me, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Hey,” she says, twirling a strand of hair in her fingers. “Great game tonight, Hudson.”

I look over her. She’s got a great rack, and as she pushes them toward me, I notice, but I don’t feel anything. No tingle of anticipation or anything like I usually would. If anything, I’m looking past her now, searching for anyone else. “Thanks,” I say.

“Can I get you a drink?” she purrs, stepping toward me, and my back presses against the wall behind me to keep some distance.

“I’ve got one, thanks,” I clip, tipping my drink to show her.

She laughs too loud and the sound grates on me. “Oh, silly me.”

Side-stepping her, I scan the room for anything, looking for an out, and when nothing obvious appears, I simply tell her, “I’ll see you around.”

She says something else as I walk across the room, but I can’t hear her. What the hell was that about? Normally, my dick isn’t that picky, but apparently tonight he is. I’m not exactly looking for anyone specific, but I catch myself scanning the room out of habit. I don’t want to fall back into my old ways, but I can’t deny that I’d like to end the high of the night with a hookup. I guess tonight isn’t my night, though.

Then an image pops into my head with perfect clarity of that night with Daphne. The way she was nervous, but so fucking hot. The way she captured my attention and held me there until she left the next morning. I can admit now that stung a little, and I feel bad for doing it to girls in the past now. If only I’d gotten her number.

Two more girls approach as the night drags on. One is bright and bubbly, full of energy as she tries to pull me into a conversation about music. I smile and nod, but her enthusiasm feels like a wall I can’t climb.

The other is quieter, almost shy. She talks about her love for physics, but I can barely focus. She senses it and trails off before moving on.

Back in my corner, I stare into my drink. Each interaction leaves the same hollow feeling. They’re kind, interesting, beautiful, but it’s like I’m not even there.

The problem isn’t them. It’s me.

Taking a sip of my drink, I turn toward the door just as Quinn and Indie walk in. They don’t even make it two steps inside before Miles and Seb are on them, wrapping them up in hugs and kisses. The way their faces light up makes it all look so effortless. I smile at the sight, but it leaves a weird restlessness behind, a feeling I can’t quite shake.

I drain the remainder of my drink and rest against the wall, letting the music pulse through me like a second heartbeat. Maybe it’s just the drinks messing with me. Or maybe I’m looking for something that isn’t really there.

Shaking my head, I push off the wall and make my way to the kitchen, where I find Jay.

“I’m mad at you.”

He groans, tipping his head back. “You’re like a dog with a bone. I really just forgot about the filter video thing. Jeez, I’ll do it now.”

My face scrunches. “What? No. I’m not talking about that. I don’t care about that anymore.”

Jay looks at me, his brow drawn. “Then why are you mad at me?”

I scoff, leaning against the counter beside him. “My radar’s broken.”

“Your what?”

“My hookup radar.” I gesture around the room. “Nothing’s clicking tonight. And it’s your fault,” I say as I jab his chest.

Jay snorts. “How is that my fault?”

“Your stupid no-sex rule. You’ve cursed me,” I say dramatically, though I don’t really believe it. Not entirely, anyway.

He crosses his arms. “First, that’s ridiculous. Second, you broke that rule after the Gracie concert, remember?”

Like I could fucking forget that night.

“It’s not my fault your dick is being picky, Huds. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling you to continue to slow things down with your sex life. It’s only a matter of time before you end up in trouble, you know.”

I laugh at him because that’s ridiculous. I wrap it up every single time and use my own condoms to be sure they’re not tampered with. You can’t be too careful with the cleat chasers.

“Whatever, man. I’m not hooking up tonight, so it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Jay grumbles. “What if I want to hook up? You planning on joining if you’re not leaving my side?”

I scoff, almost choking on air. “What? No. But if I’m not getting any, then neither are you.”

Jay quirks an eyebrow, tipping his cup to his mouth. “That’s not how this works. I’m a free agent.”

“Not anymore. Consider yourself benched.”

He has the audacity to laugh. “You don’t get to make that call.”

“Sure, I do. I’m basically your emotional chaperone now,” I deadpan.

“You’re the worst best friend ever.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to help,” I say, raising my chin defiantly. If I’m going down, then he’s coming with me this time. “Let’s celebrate our celibacy with another drink.”