Page 17

ARES

C oach blew the whistle, and we huddled for one of his after-practice chats.

With my helmet tucked under my arm, I stood next to Kylian and Liam, my mind straying from Coach’s spiel to relive last night with Brielle in my bed.

We weren’t in a relationship, but we were mutually exclusive.

It should have been enough. It wasn’t. I wanted more, and that alone was throwing me off my game.

A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder pad, and I jolted back to reality.

“What’s going on with you, man?” Liam frowned.

I glanced around. Most of our teammates were already off the field and heading to the locker room. “Nothing. Just tired. Practice was brutal.”

Liam snorted. “Your head may have been in the clouds, but I was on my game. Did you see those three touchdowns I ran in?”

“Kylian launched those with perfect precision.” I grinned, knowing the comment would get under his skin. “They landed in your hands like a gift from God, and you know it. That’s the QB1’s talent. You’re just a tool. One of many.”

Liam shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth before he ran a hand through sweat-slicked dark-walnut hair. “That makes you a tool too.” He winked. “Didn’t see anyone else fast enough to catch ’em in the red zone.”

“What’s going on with you and Brielle?” Kylian asked, his helmet dangling from his fingers as he joined us. “She was over again last night, and has been most of the week.”

He fell into line on my right side, Liam on my left, as we walked toward the locker room to shower and change.

“Nothing’s going on.” That wasn’t entirely true. “We’re just enjoying each other.”

“That’s the way to do it.” Liam’s laugh was deep and wicked. “Love’s for suckers. No offense, Kylian.”

I glanced at Kyl.

His brows furrowed, and instead of anger, worry bracketed his mouth. “Don’t listen to Liam. He’s biased. Relationships can be great, and the groupies get old. We all know what they’re about.”

“Bragging rights and a shot at being an NFL wife.” Liam’s words were by rote. “Still better than being tied down and miserable.”

We all knew about the jersey chasers’ goals and had experienced what it was like to be used for possible fame and a financially stable life. In the beginning, being a college football star had amazing perks—getting any girl we wanted being one of them. But Kylian was right. It got old real fast.

“Do I look miserable?” Kylian’s arms extended, and he walked backward, glaring at Liam.

“You’re the exception. You know Ares and I are crazy about Aurora.” Liam smirked. “And her cooking.”

Kylian smacked Liam upside the head, making them both laugh.

Liam adored Aurora and treated her like a sister.

He’d always said relationships weren’t for him and had stuck to that motto.

I could only remember one time he’d been willing to throw away his bachelor status for a girl, but she’d walked instead.

It had set the tone for him and solidified that his rule was sound.

“Aurora is the best thing that ever happened to me,” Kylian said. “And you guys got a first-row seat to our rocky start.”

“In other words, Ares”—Liam rolled his eyes—“watch out because a fake or no-strings-attached relationship can quickly turn into a real one.”

“You’re crazy.” I shoved Liam, slamming him into the wall, before turning down the hallway toward the locker room. “Bet you would think differently if S?—”

“Shut it,” Liam growled.

I exchanged a glance with Kylian. We both tried not to say the name of the girl who’d momentarily shaken Liam’s beliefs before they solidified when he never heard from her again.

“Take my advice,” Liam deadpanned. “Stay single. It’s a beautiful thing to be my wingman anyway.”

We dropped the topic as we joined the rest of our team, hurrying to shower and get dressed.

We had film to watch—or at least the players who were serious about making this a career did—and weightlifting still to do.

I should’ve let my best friends’ different relationship opinions go, but I couldn’t.

The conversation followed me into the weight room, plaguing me with the need to decide.

What do I want with Brielle? Can I trust her, or any woman, for that matter?