Page 15

CARSON

Zander was late for practice again, although maybe he had good reason to be.

Holy shit, the stuff he told us in the locker room before we ran out onto the field was a fucking acid trip.

I can’t believe the shit he got caught up in at Kelsey U.

No wonder the Titans wanted him dead at Saturday’s game.

Thank fuck I stood up for my buddy on the field. It caused a bit of a stir, and I could have been kicked out of the game, but no one treats my captain like a punching bag without some serious retribution. I would protect his ass until I couldn’t.

By some miracle, Coach didn’t bench me after that, and now I know why.

Those two went through some shit together at Kelsey U. No wonder they’re so close. I’ve always thought of Zander as Coach’s favorite. It pisses me off at times, especially when Jones has it in for me.

Fuck. He’d flip a switch if he knew where I was yesterday afternoon.

And where I’m planning to be tonight.

So, just don’t go!

I close my eyes, walking off the field after practice and wiping sweat off my face as I try not to think about how The Princess Bride ended.

As soon as the credits started to roll, people began filing out of the theater. I stood up, following the crowd and having every intention of walking to my bike.

Not wanting to be a complete ass, I did stop to help Nylah throw the trash away, but as soon as the popcorn box disappeared, I gave her a wave and said, “See ya.”

“Yeah, you will,” she called after me.

I forced myself to stop and turn around. There were a good few feet between us. It felt safe enough to engage. It was important that I did. Shaking my head, I gave her a serious look, hoping she knew how much I meant it. “I shouldn’t.”

“But you want to, Stone-Face McAvoy.”

“Lame.” It took maximum effort not to crack a grin. She’s fucking funny with her name-calling routine.

And she smells good. I don’t know what shit she puts in her hair, but it’s a drug of some kind. A dangerous, addictive one.

The weight of her head on my shoulder was…

Clenching my jaw, I shook my head and spun away from her.

“I’m going to Fledgling after class tomorrow. Apparently, they have a great little pizza place.”

“So?” I called over my shoulder, forcing myself to keep walking.

“So… if you happen to be hungry after football practice, maybe I’ll see you there!”

Glancing back, I took in her hopeful expression and couldn’t say a fucking thing.

I have no idea what her face did after I turned away, but I’ve been calculating how long it’ll take me to get to Fledgling ever since.

It’s about a forty-five-minute ride. I have no idea how she’s getting there, but the pimple of a town has only one pizza place, and somehow I know I’m gonna go.

Even though I really shouldn’t.

Heading back to Football Frat with everyone else is the safer bet.

Sure, Sienna and Zoey will be back there again.

I growl in my throat, not wanting to think about it.

I mean, I’m happy for Zander that he managed to work shit out with his woman and all.

The fiery look on her face when she stormed into Athletes Hall at lunch was kinda sexy.

It was inevitable that they’d get back together, and I spent the afternoon trying to reconcile with the fact that I have to live with a toddler again.

I made my complaints loud and clear when Zander confirmed it, and he assured me he’s working on a solution.

But fuck it… it’s a pretty damn good excuse to stay away from the house, and yet another reason to head to Fledgling.

Which you shouldn’t! Coach already hates you. If he finds out about this, you’re a dead man.

But if I don’t go, she’ll be there all alone.

And I can’t fucking stand that.

So I pick up my pace, running into the locker room after practice and getting changed like a man on a mission.

The guys trail in behind me, talking football.

Grady compliments Zander on a good practice.

It was. The guy was driven and amped up.

It probably helped that he had sex this afternoon.

He didn’t have to say anything; I could tell by the way he walked into the locker room to get suited up for practice.

Lucky bastard.

Sienna is one hot chick.

And sex of any kind is a good thing.

Not that I’ve had any lately.

Fuck.

I should be bailing on Fledgling and heading to a sports bar. I could find myself a nice honey, and we could…

Have unsatisfying sex in the back of her car?

Wrestling my jeans on, I scowl at the concrete floor. When the fuck did pizza in a no-nothing town become more appealing than car sex?

I am seriously losing my fucking mind!

Yet I still grab my shirt like I’m running late and throw it on, cramming my shit into my bag and heading for the door.

“I’m out,” I tell the guys.

“What, you not gonna shower, you disgusting douchenozzle?” Grady calls after me.

Douchenozzle. It’s hard not to crack up laughing.

Spinning with a smirk, I raise my middle fingers at him. “Chicks like me sweaty.”

Zander rolls his eyes, and I turn back for the door as Wily shouts, “You smell like ass!”

“Shower in a can, dickheads!” As soon as I make it through the doorway, I wrestle the deodorant can out of my bag and spray under my pits and across my chest before reaching my bike and pulling out my leather jacket.

Shit. I probably do stink, but I didn’t want to get caught in the locker room for too long. I’ve got places to be. Pizza to eat. A girl with playful brown eyes and a teasing grin to hang out with.

I wonder what she’ll call me tonight.

Damn, I shouldn’t be doing this.

But like hell I’m staying in Nolan for dinner.

Revving my bike, I squeal out of the parking lot and head north.

Google Maps told me it would take forty-six minutes, and I get there in forty-two.

It’s not hard to find the pizza place. The ranching town has like twenty shops, including a diner and candy store along Main Street, and most of them are closed up for the night.

Shit, I couldn’t live somewhere this small. Nolan’s considered a small college town, and that’s like ten times the size of this place… if not more.

Parking my bike a block down from Mama Luna’s Pizzeria, I take in the river to my left.

Moonlight is making the water sparkle, bathing the walkway and grass in a milky white glow.

It’s kinda pretty. I don’t normally notice this stuff, but now I’m imagining walking along there after dinner, Nylah beside me, and… holy fuck.

Stop it! You’re just here to eat food. That’s it.

Running a hand through my hair, I dump my helmet on the seat and head across the road.

Mama Luna’s is pretty busy but not bursting at the seams. I can imagine it’s overflowing on a Friday and Saturday night, but it’s Monday. And most of these country folk are probably tucked up in their little houses eating dinner around the table with their families.

A sharp memory punches me in the gut. Mom always insisted we eat dinner at the table, and Dad would sit across from me, his tall, strong body too big for the table.

He was like a superhero. All muscle with his big, bushy beard and stubby ponytail.

His arms were covered in tattoos from his biker days.

He even had some on his neck. I used to love tracing them with my fingers.

As much as I complained about eating dinner at the table and not in front of the TV, I secretly loved it.

Dad would nudge my foot under the table, pull funny faces at me, make games the nights we had to eat peas.

He’d secretly roll them across the table when Mom wasn’t looking or chuck them at me while she was talking about her day.

I always got the giggles, especially when her eyes snapped up and then narrowed.

Dad would give her an innocent smile, then tell her how gorgeous she was, and she’d forget about manners and give him a mushy smile.

Yeah, dinner around the table was the best.

My insides go hard and cold as the memory fades, replaced with newer ones that taste like ash and smell just as bad. Fuck.

“Can I help you, sir?”

I glance at the waitress with her sweet smile and cute ponytail. It swings as she tips her head and looks up at me.

“I’m meeting someone.” My voice comes out harder and gruffer than I mean it to.

Her smile falters. “S-sure. Um…”

“I can see her.” I point past the girl who must only be a teenager and she nods, stepping out of my way so I can walk to the table by the window.

I plunk down in my seat, dumping my bag by the wall and practically growling, “So, I’m here.”

Nylah grins at me, completely unfazed by my salty mood. “Welcome to my table, sunshine.” She pats my hand, and I can’t even summon my standard “Lame” because it’s glaringly obvious that she’s being sarcastic.

Leaning back in my chair, I try to shake those ugly memories from my mind—Mom’s tears, her angry shouts into the phone, packing up all our stuff and leaving Dad in Denver.

Fuck.

Nylah doesn’t deserve this shit. I drove all the fucking way up here to ruin her night? Is that what I’m trying to achieve here?

If you don’t shake this, she would have been better off having dinner alone!

“I knew you’d come.”

Her smile is still in place, even when I mutter, “Oh yeah? You some kind of psychic?”

“No, I’m just that irresistible.” She winks, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth…and she seriously has no idea how accurate that is.

My lips twitch, and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand to hide my smile.

“So, I’ve already ordered. Garlic bread should be coming out any second, and then I’ve ordered one Margherita and one Prosciutto.”

I raise my eyebrows and nod.

“But I didn’t know what you wanted to drink, so…” She gives me an expectant look, and all I can manage is a shrug. “Cool, well, you can just stick with water, then. Like me.” She raises her glass. “To happy times in a pizzeria with my cheerful buddy Carson.”

I snort, forcing myself to clink my glass against hers.