“That was a drunken mistake. I’m premeditating all of my actions sober this time. Charlotte’s cute every hour of the day.”
“West, where do you stand?” Baker asks me. “Green light or red light?”
I grin and slap Greg on the back. “If it’s true love, I say go for it. But if you’re just looking for a hookup, I think you’re fishing for disaster.”
“What if I’m not sure what I want?” Greg says.
Just then, we hear feet on the steps. Charlotte walks into the kitchen.
She’s wearing short booty shorts and a tank top.
I swallow, staring at her.
Well, she definitely doesn’t sleep with a bra on.
“Good morning, y’all,” she says, and looks at the cereal on the table. “Golden Grahams and Lucky Charms for breakfast? What are you guys, twelve?”
“It’s for game day luck,” Greg says. “I think you should have some, too.”
“No, thanks,” she says, getting an avocado out of the fridge and slicing it in half. “I’m going to eat some real food.”
She twists up her face and looks at us sitting at the breakfast table.
“So are you going to sit down and have a family breakfast with us?” Greg says, patting the fourth chair.
“We’re not a family.”
“Sure, we are,” I say. “We’re a house family.”
She huffs but sits down next to us anyway.
“So, tell us about this breakup of yours,” Greg says.
“You know,” Charlotte says, getting up. “It’s too early for me to get into this stuff. Have a good game. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
She gets up and heads back to her room.
“Nice going, Gregster,” Baker says.
“What?! I was just trying to make conversation. I thought we could clear the air.”
I glance at my watch. “Well, that wounded bird wanted nothing to do with you. Let’s head to the fieldhouse in five? Time to get warmed up for the game today. I’m going to hit the bathroom real quick.”
I head upstairs whistling, to go to the bathroom and then grab my lucky socks that I need for the game today.
When I get to the top stairs, though, I’m greeted by Charlotte in a towel wrapped around her body, barely covering her breasts and revealing some smooth, creamy thighs.
“Mind if I use the bathroom really quick?” I ask.
“Be my guest.”
I wash my hands and come out of the bathroom whistling.
I give her an up and down, grinning. “Have a nice shower. Is that your lotion in there? Smells amazing.”
“Maybe you should use some before the game.”
“Yeah. It could distract the guys on the other team. Much like those thighs are doing right now.”
“Stop checking me out.”
“Charlotte.” I clench my jaw, and step up to her so I am a foot away from her. “Is this how it’s going to be?”
She flickers her eyes. “Are you going to be staring at me when I’m getting ready to go into the shower? I don’t know. That’s up to you.”
“Fine. As long as I never catch you staring,” I say.
She hmphs and continues into the bathroom.
I definitely check her out as she walks, and I must say she looks damn good in just a towel. Her curves have really come in nicely since high school.
The University of Illinois is known more for their basketball team than their football team, and it shows.
We handle them in the first half, but by the second half, we seem to be running out of gas and it also shows.
In the middle of the fourth quarter, we’re down by two touchdowns.
Coach Holloway calls DJ and me over.
He’s young, way younger than most coaches at this level, twenty-five or so.
He gazes out at the field. “You two have fun last night?”
“Excuse me, Coach?” DJ asks. “Not sure what you mean.”
Coach Holloway spits out his gum, throws his sunglasses down, and looks at both of us with steely eyes.
“I sa-aid, did you two have fun last night? Next time you go out before a game day, at least have the intelligence not to fucking post about it on Instagram.”
DJ and I nod. “We didn’t think it would affect our performance, Coach. It was my idea,” I say.
“The only thing you should be thinking about before game day is the damn game. Not women. Not parties. Understand?”
“Yes, Coach,” DJ says.
“Now, you two go out and save this game. If you don’t, you’re going to find yourselves on the bench next week.”
Adrenaline rocks through me, and I nod.
Before I toss my helmet on, I look out at the stands and I see our gaggle of friends—or more so, DJ’s friends I met last night, in the stands going nuts. They’ve got a big sign that says DJ = Comeback Kid.
My eyes catch with Charlotte, and I grin.
Oh Charlotte, you little tease.
“Let’s torch ’em,” I say, and slap DJ on his helmet.
Torch them, we do.
Thanks to Coach Holloway’s little pep talk, we find our second wind, and score three more touchdowns before the end of the game to win.
Coach doesn’t smile as we run off the field, just gives DJ and me dirty looks with his arms folded.
Speaking of dirty looks, I can’t stop staring at Charlotte as I jog off the field and head under the tunnel, back to the locker room. She’s far away, but she seems to be staring back at me.
I’ve had enough of this cat-and-mouse game of trying to pretend there’s not still a spark in the air between us, and my blood is hot after this game.
I think it’s time I have a little chat with her.
Chapter 5
Charlotte
After the early afternoon football game, I come back to my room to relax. I sit on my bed and look out the window in at the cloudy day outside now. A soft breeze makes the leaves in the trees rustle. It’s a meditative sound that calms me and allows my mind to wander.
I smile to myself, knowing I definitely made the right decision to move in here. It’s good for me to have my own space right now where I can just be by myself. That would’ve been harder to have living back home with my mom and my brother. This living situation isn’t perfect, but it’s a neccesary step for me.
I lean over and grab my journal on my nightstand, which I haven’t written in a few weeks. This is the first moment I’ve finally feel settled into my new house, and I’d consider that journal-worthy.
Just as I open my journal, though, an old photo pops out of me and Jacob.
An anxious nervousness pops up in my throat just seeing the picture the two of us took together. I’m kissing him with my eyes closed, and he’s staring straight into the camera, looking cute.
I hold the picture between my thumb and forefinger, staring at the couple in the picture. Wondering what happened to us. We seemed so happy.
“Who’s that?” a deep voice says, sending a shiver down my spine.
I glance up and see Colin standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are zooming in on the picture of Jacob and I.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, looking up at him.