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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Brady

I mind. I fucking mind, and I don’t know why.

I also don’t know how to stop. It’s dumb.

Really fucking dumb. And thinking about it is pissing me off even more.

The dickwad is over there, leaning over the ledge of the fucking bleachers, his arms folded, the skin of his arm touching her jean-clad thigh as she’s sitting on the thick cement wall that separates the field from the stands.

He shakes his head, sending the water he poured over himself like some fucking model boy spraying out. I know that move. Hell, I probably invented it back in youth football days.

It works every time, and what do you know? Cameron squeals, throwing her hands up as her head falls back on a laugh. Even Ari and Paige are laughing.

Unoriginal prick.

Chase steps up, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes in their direction. “Guess no one is mad at him anymore?”

“He won one fucking game—with our help, I might add.”

“Not like we threw the ball for him, my man,” Chase laughs.

“Shut up. You’re just happy you got your yards after all, and that’s only because I put their starting QB down in the first quarter, thank you very much.”

Chase chuckles. “And you’re just mad he’s still after your fake girl. ”

I hate when they say fake like that. They should just stop saying it. I mean, you never know who might overhear, right?

My brows pull in a little more. “I just don’t want her to fall for his shit and get hurt again. That’s all.”

“Maybe he won’t hurt her…”

“Maybe he will.”

“I think she’s smart and won’t let that happen.”

Sometimes it’s got nothing to do with that.

I shake it off, turning away and grabbing my gear off the sidelines.

“Maybe he’s over it, admitted defeat to the bigger, better man,” I joke, sneaking a side glance at Chase from the corner of my eye. “Could be over there testing the waters with an entirely different blond, if you know what I mean.”

Chase’s head yanks back toward the stands, and I swallow my laugh, leaving everyone out on the field.

I decide to skip the shower last second and quickly tug on some sweats.

I pack up my stuff and head out to my truck.

Tossing my shit in the bed, I climb inside and get a good playlist going.

Maybe I’ll drive for a bit, clear my head, and go catch the end of the junior college’s football practice ten miles up the road.

It’s always good to stay in the know. Never know when some random transfer might pop up and fuck up the whole dynamic. I’m only as good as the next D-end to come through.

Before I can even put my truck in drive, my favorite blond steps in front of my hood, leaning her elbows on it with a smile.

I can’t help but smile back, rolling my window down to yell at her. “Excuse me, miss. Imma need you to move. This is harassment.”

She starts to climb up the bumper, and my eyes are glued to her as she crawls across the hood in playful movements. “Meh, I think you might like to be harassed by me.”

I just might…

Wait, what ?

I clear my throat. “Sorry to tell you, but my girlfriend is going to get mad if she sees you.”

“Is she now?” she laughs, holding her balance on the hood as she folds herself over the driver side mirror so she’s face-to-face with me rather than staring at me through the glass.

“Oh, yeah. Real possessive.” I pause, hesitating, but decide fuck it. I spill a small secret. “So much so that she had two little magnets implanted on her body so she could stick to mine…”

Cameron frowns, my words running through her mind a time or two as she tries to connect the dots.

And then she gasps, grips my mirror, and pushes her torso up. “Your dick is pierced?!”

I bust up laughing, fold myself forward, and grip her under her arms.

She squeals, laughing as I maneuver her like a little toy until I can tug her straight through the window, dropping her across my lap, her calves and feet still hanging out of the truck.

She’s cracking up so much, she loses her breath and just lets herself fall, her shoulders on the seat in the middle, ass on my lap. Her hair spreads out behind her, all over the thick leather of my seats.

It looks good like that. Enticing.

“That was fun.” She grins, bending her legs and doing a full backward somersault until she’s on her knees beside me. She crosses her arms and glares. “Brady Lancaster, you know about my nips, and you’ve been hiding a dick piercing?”

“Have I?” I tease, buckling my seat belt, and she does the same but stays in the middle.

“Yes, you have, but how have I not heard this? How are the girls not running around spreading this like the word of God to the other girls who want to climb on you? I am, like, mind blown.”

I can’t stop laughing, for more reasons than she knows, but I just let her go on.

“Okay, but like you, I’m not shocked. It makes total sense. You’re like a messiah. Or Buddha. A vag whisperer. Of course you have actual magical equipment on your wand.” Her eyes gleam as she looks over at me, gaze dropping to my sweats. “What kind is it? Did it hurt? When did you get it?”

“Nope.” I shake my head, pulling out of the parking lot. “Not telling you a word.”

“Hmm.”

I look over, and her gaze is still hooked on my lap. “Quit looking at my dick,” I chuckle, shifting my leg in case a little something decides to grow with all the attention it’s getting.

“Oh my god, I have something for you! This just reminded me.”

“You trying to become the newest X-Man with X-ray vision reminded you that you have something for me?” I raise a brow, making a left and heading down the main road toward town.

“Yep. I made it last week in art.”

“Wait, you made me something?”

“I did.” She grins, tugging her phone out and typing something before tucking it away again. She looks up. “Wait, where are we going?”

“To catch the end of the JC practice, then maybe the food trucks for some grub?”

She nods and kicks off her shoes, reaching behind her to pull the little blanket tucked in the back over her legs.

I smile from her to the road. “By the way, you’re buying.”

Cameron laughs, and when she leans her head on my shoulder a moment later, I move as little as possible so she’ll keep it there.

Cameron shivers, running inside the building with the blanket wrapped around her head. I hold the door open for the girls jogging up behind us, then step through, passing Cameron her soda when she holds her hand out .

“Let me take the food too.” She reaches for the bag, but I turn my shoulders so she can’t try and take it. “Brady, you’ve got your backpack, your gym bag, your drink, and the food. All I’ve got is one cup.”

“And a blanket.”

“That is hanging over my shoulders just fine. Let me help.”

“Shush and push the button, or we’ll just be hanging out in the hall all night.”

“Oh shit,” she chuckles, turning to the elevator. “It’s getting cold fast.”

“It is almost the end of October.”

“I know, but last year I was Becky Lynch for Halloween, and I don’t remember it being cold. This year’s going to call for a freaking parka.”

“Or maybe you just don’t remember how cold it was cause you pregamed pretty hard.”

“That…sounds legit.” She chuckles, unlocking her door and stopping short, making me bump into her. She grins over her shoulder, holding her finger to her lips.

I slip in behind her, spotting Ari knocked out on the couch, her phone in her hand. I’m so glad their parents insisted they keep the flat-style dorm all four years, even though it comes with a higher price tag.

Quietly, we make our way back to Cameron’s room. I set the food down on her little desk and drop my backpack to the foot of the bed.

“Wanna shower first?” she asks, tossing the blanket on the floor by the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be fast, but eat. I don’t want your food to get cold.”

“Then be Speedy Gonzales, and it won’t be.”

“You don’t have to wait.”

“OMG, are you still here?” she jokes, tearing her closet doors open and digging around in the little dresser tucked in there.

I slip out and into the bathroom. I’m in and out in five minutes or less, stepping back into her room as I scrub the towel across my head to get the excess water.

She’s already changed into her pj’s—a big shirt and shorts—and has arranged our food, having set us up on laptop pads with something playing quietly on the TV.

Her head pops up, gaze landing on my bare chest before lifting to meet my eyes. “Well, are you just gonna stand there and play the role of the Greek god statue or…?”

Smirking, I quietly close the door, hanging my towel on the little hook on the back of it. Picking up both of the laptop pads so our plates don’t fall off when the mattress dips, I climb onto the bed beside her, setting our food back down.

Cam opens up her tri-tip sandwich and is digging in before I’ve even gotten the lid off my pulled-pork mac and cheese. We eat in silence for a few minutes and then she wipes her mouth, reaching over the side of the bed to grab her drink.

“So our little outing was super random.” She shakes her cup a little and goes in for a sip.

“Well, you did crawl onto my hood uninvited.”

Cameron grins, tossing a salt packet at me.

I swat it away and she raises a brow.

“Obviously, I wasn’t referring to you and me, since we’re at the food trucks at least once a week. I meant the practice.”

I take another bite of my mac and cheese, and Cameron groans dramatically, picking up a piece of tri-tip that fell out of her roll.

A low chuckle leaves me, and I nod, swallowing my food before reaching over for my own drink. “I just wanted to see what was up. They start after us, so they’re always practicing later.”

Cam nods. “And you know this how?”

I shrug, stealing one of her Tater Tots and tossing it in my mouth. “I go and watch every now and then. Maybe once or twice a month.”

“Really?” she asks curiously. “Why?”

I shrug, focusing on my food. “Just wanna stay aware, you know? See what they’ve got on their roster, listen for any rumors I might pick up about transfers that might come in next year or whatever.”

Cam studies me, pushing her tots my way as she settles back against the pile of pillows along her headboard.

“Brady,” she begins, a hint of hesitancy in her raspy tone.

“We’re juniors. You know what that means.

You’re going to be drafted come April. You won’t be here next year, let alone next season. ”

“I…ugh—” I cut off, clearing my throat.

“What?” she asks softly, tucking her legs up so she’s in a little ball.

“What if I told you I don’t think I want to be drafted?”

Her eyes widen, and she sits forward, a little frown creasing along her forehead.

With a small smile, I reach over and wipe it away, my eyes falling to hers. “I kinda want to go home, Cammie Girl. Go back and work on the farm like in high school.”

Surprise covers her features then. “With my dad?”

I shrug. “Or start my own, I don’t know.” I shrug again, busying myself by reaching over to grab the bag and throwing our garbage away. “It’s just a thought. I mean, I don’t really have a plan or anything.”

“Brady.” She waits until I look at her. “Are you afraid?”

A choked laugh leaves me, and I clear my throat, shifting on the bed so I’m facing her fully. I contemplate my words, but the longer I look into her big blue eyes, at the tender smile on her pretty lips, the more they untangle.

“If I get drafted, if I’m somehow that lucky and make it to the biggest stage the sport has to offer, it would be a literal dream come true.

Hundreds of thousands of people have that same dream, but only handfuls get to live it.

If I get drafted, I could get hurt in the first season, hell the first game or play, and just like that, everything could be gone.

I don’t want that for myself. I worked way too fucking hard, not only on the field but in the classroom.

I won’t cut out the first semester I’m eligible to enter the draft—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

There isn’t, but for me and what I want in life?

” I shake my head, my words stronger, more sure as I focus on Cameron.

“I’m gonna graduate, Cammie Girl, with honors, and I’m going to have a degree under my belt.

And if football comes after that, then I’m even more blessed. ”

Cameron stares at me, her eyes growing a little glossy. When she speaks, it’s a one-word whisper. “Wow.”

“Stop.”

“No.” She shakes her head, reaching out to take my hand. “This deserves a moment because honestly, Brady. Wow.”

She tugs, and I shift, dropping back on the pile of pillows. Cameron settles against my chest, pulling the blanket up over us.

“I’ve never told anyone any of that,” I admit after a moment.

Cameron shifts, looking up at me with a sweet smile. “Just so you know, luck would have nothing to do with it. Football will wait for you because you, Brady Lancaster, are that good. You’ll have the jersey and the farm and anything else you could possibly want.”

I run my fingers through her hair, looking down at her. “Think so?”

She smiles, burrowing her head in the crook of my shoulder, tugging the blanket up to her chin. “I know so. Now don’t move. I’m way too comfortable, and I want to stay just like this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Would it be weird if I asked for how long?