Page 65 of The Hardest Fall

Chris was the quiet one in our group. He was the team captain, a good leader out on the field, but when it came to socializing with people, he preferred to stay back. There was always a throng of girls following him like lost puppies, dying to get the quarterback’s attention, but he was more like me on that front than JP. However, unlike me, he didn’t mind random hookups, but even that only happened during the off-season, not when our future hinged on how we did this season with all the eyes we had on us, not to mention the combine was right around the corner.

“Yeah, see you.” Chris followed after Benji, who was chatting with some of our teammates on his way out, leaving me alone with JP. “What?” I asked.

“Just one question.”

I sighed. “What is it?”

“Do you like this girl?” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

“We’re just friends, JP. Not sure how many times I need to tell you that.”

“Yeah, sure. I get that, and friends are good, but…” He hesitated. “Trust me…not trying to get all sappy on your ass, but you deserve to have some fun, man. If not now, when will you? You know what they say: work hard, play harder. If you want her…” Wisely, he left it at that. “Just think about it, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I guess you tuned out the part where I said she has a boyfriend.” I neglected to mention that I was in fact very interested in Zoe Clarke and was only waiting for the right time to make my move, a time when she was unattached and uncomplicated—though maybe I was already too late after all.

“Like I said, we can always get rid of him or break his legs. Either way—”

“Dylan, I could use some help over here!” Lindy sing-songed as she put her hand on my arm and winked at my grinning friend.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” I said to JP. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Don’t make me come drag your ass out of whichever bed you’re planning on falling into tonight.”

“I keep telling you, I should be your role model.” He sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. See you around. I’m going to find myself a Mandy for the night.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Dude, that ship sailed a long time ago.”

Putting Zoe out of my mind, I laughed and went to Lindy’s side, helping her with the orders.

“You should take your break as soon as it slows down a little,” I said loud enough so she could hear me as we worked side by side. “Talk to your little bugger before he goes to sleep.” Lindy was a single mom who left her three-year-old at home with her dad when she came to work. She called her son on almost every break instead of smoking or shooting the shit with the waiters and waitresses.

“What time is it?” she asked, her hands busy with shaking a cocktail. Most of the customers at Jimmy’s went for cheap beers since the vast majority were college students, but there were a few fancy ones who went for cocktails every now and then.

“It’s past nine.”

She stopped with the shaking, poured the pink drink into a martini glass, and garnished it with a maraschino cherry. “Yeah, he’s probably in bed, waiting for me to call. Thanks, Dylan.”

I nodded and just as I was taking another order, my eyes found their way back to Zoe again, still dancing. At least I couldn’t spot the dick face anymore, but how long was she gonna dance anyway? Wasn’t she tired yet? And wasn’t she supposed to be shy? How did she look perfectly fine dancing in front of all these people when she couldn’t even look me in the eye for more than a few seconds?

All of a sudden, I noticed a hand sneak around her waist. A growl escaped my lips and a few of the guys sitting in front of me gave me strange looks. I offered them a chin lift. “What’s up?”

They just shook their heads and got back to their loud conversation.

I glanced past them again. What the hell did I expect from my friend? Of course he was there; of course he was talking to Zoe. She smiled at something JP said and took a discreet step back, dislodging his arm without much effort. JP leaned down to say something in her ear and when he was done, he patted her head twice, said something to her girlfriend, and walked away from them. Just as he was about to exit the bar, he turned and hit the door open with his back, giving me a thumbs up and a shit-eating grin right before he disappeared.

It was a done deal—he had basically given me permission to kick his ass the next time we were on the field. He must’ve known I wouldn’t like his hands on my friend…around her waist, touching her, feeling her body.