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I pulled out my phone again, started typing to Tempest about how my dad had just possibly terrified some corporate executives into silence, but stopped myself. For once in my life, I didn’t want to play this cool or funny. I wanted her to know I took this stuff seriously.

Chris was leading another drive down the field, and this time I was going to actually watch my brothers play.

But as the game wound down, I was itching to reach back into my pocket and check to see if she’d texted back.

The Mustangs’ victory set off a chain reaction of chaos in our suite. Gryff and Isak were practically hanging out the windows screaming while Jules jumped up and down shouting something about dynasty status. I was right there with them until my phone buzzed.

Tempest: Tell your brothers congrats on the win. It was more fun to watch than I expected.

My heart did a stupid little flip. She’d been watching. Really watching.

Me: Wish you were here to see everyone freaking out.

I added a picture of Gryff and Isak basically climbing over each other trying to get a better view of the field.

Tempest: Some of us are watching from the comfort of our beds, surrounded by homework, like responsible students.

Me: Responsible shmesponsible.

“Mom would have loved this,” Dad said to all of us in the suite. His eyes were fixed on the field where Chris, Hayes, Everett, and Declan were being mobbed by teammates and press. “Especially those commercials.”

She was still making an impact on all of our lives, even after all these years without her.

The lot of us headed out of the suite. The girls and Dad were headed to the field, but Gryff and I were tasked with taking Isak and Jules back to the hotel before we hit the after party.

As we walked toward the elevators, Marie Manniway sidled up next to Dad.

“Now seems a suitable time to ask for favors. Would you mind showing up to the KAT house on campus next Monday? The National Chapter president just emailed and the DSU girls are being honored with the April De la Reine Award. I’ll be there, of course, but I thought you might like to go too. ”

My head snapped up. KAT house? As in Kappa Alpha Tau? As in Tempest’s sorority?

“Of course,” Dad nodded. “April loved being a KAT at University of Los Angeles. She’d be delighted our local girls are getting the award. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Wait,” I tried to sound casual. “Mom was in that sorority?”

“Damn straight she was.” Dad’s expression softened the way it always did when he talked about Mom. “Chapter president. Changed a lot of minds about what beauty looked like and how the media could be harmful to young adults. They created this service award in her honor.”

The universe was literally handing me an opportunity on a silver platter. “Mind if I come with? You know, for... family support?”

Dad raised an eyebrow, and I thought he was going to call me out. But he just nodded. “Sure. Could use the company.”

My phone buzzed again.

Tempest: Being responsible is sexy.

I grinned. She was definitely flirting back.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Jules appeared at my elbow, eyeing my phone suspiciously.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, shoving it in my pocket. “Just... happy for the win. ”

After hitting the field to celebrate with a boys and an appearance at the afterparty Pen had organized for the team, it was back at the hotel for those of us who weren’t yet Mustangs.

Gryff sprawled across his bed, flipping through channels until he found the post-game coverage. I was only half paying attention until they started discussing the commercials.

“In an unprecedented move, both KnightWear and Swoosh debuted body-positive ads featuring members of the Mustangs’ organization,” the announcer said. “Social media reaction has been?—”

“Don’t.” Jules snatched the remote, and changed the channel. “Nobody needs to see what the trolls are saying.”

“They were about to say how great the response was. You’re making us miss it.”

Jules threw some popcorn at me. “Get a clue, Flynn. They were definitely about to say something about promoting unhealthy lifestyles and obesity.”

“But... I thought...the commercials...society is being more body positive, aren’t they?” Just having the commercials on at the Bowl was proof of that. “It’s only dickheads like the Flabby Fit guys that don’t get it.”

Jules rolled her eyes at me. “Look, you’re fit and good-looking and have been since you were, like, five. The only comments anyone has ever made about your body is how well you can play football.”

Uh. She wasn’t wrong. Except I wasn’t going to tell her about how I had definitely overheard women talking about how hot they found my body.

“I’m not even eighteen and I get insanely negative comments about my body every day.” She shook her head. “It’s exhausting. But I’ve got a great support system around me, even if you’re completely obtuse sometimes. I know I’m enough. A lot of women can’t say the same.”

Isak folded his arms and glared at the TV. “I will happily stomp on anyone who even thinks about saying crap like this to you, princess.”

“You all don’t see it, because you don’t have to. This is just a smidge of the shit we deal with about our bodies. Those commercials today were revolutionary. They meant something. They mattered.”

The three of us stared at her like she’d grown tentacles out of her hair. I didn’t know she went through any of that, and I wanted to tackle and beat the parts of the world that thought it was okay to make a woman feel bad about herself.

“And this is why none of you have girlfriends. Pay better attention, jackasses.”

Fuck. Were the same things happening to Tempest? Jules put the Sport Network on, but I barely noticed. I was thinking about how Tempest always deflected compliments with sarcasm. How she kept everyone at arm’s length with her wit. How she seemed surprised every time I sought her out.

I needed air and headed for the balcony. The LA lights sparkled below, but all I could think about was Denver. About getting back to campus. About proving to Tempest that I could be more than just the guy with the two-week rule.

“It’s different this time, isn’t it?” Gryff joined me, leaning against the railing .

I didn’t bother pretending not to know what he meant. “Yeah. But I think I screwed it up before it even started.”

“Nah.” He bumped my shoulder. “You’re just finally playing in her league instead of trying to get her to play in yours.”

My Tempest was in a league of her own.

And with her, I was playing in the pee-wees.

But if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was up my game. Come class next week, I was going to be on the varsity get-the-girl team.