Cameron
“We’re lucky bastards, you know that, right?” Asher tipped his beer toward where the girls were laughing and talking, sipping the sugary sweet cocktails Felicity had insisted on making.
After a day at the beach, we’d headed back to the house. The place had a grill too mammoth not to put to good use. A cloud of smoke currently drifted into the sky as Jase flipped burgers and steaks.
“Yeah, I know.” Hailee caught my eye and smiled; and fuck, if it wasn’t like a bolt of lightning to my heart.
I loved that girl. I loved her more than I had ever loved another person, and the thought of starting my life with her should have been the happiest moment of my life. Except I had a gnawing guilt over leaving Rixon, of leaving my mom and dad and my kid brother, Xander. Mom was better, she was, but it didn’t stop the trickle of fear I felt every time I imagined being a nine-hour ride away and getting a call that she was sick again, or that Xander was having bad nightmares still.
I wanted to be there for them, always. But Hailee wanted Art School, especially STAMPS at the University of Michigan, and she deserved it.
She deserved it so fucking much.
“You all set to be a Wolverine?” Asher asked.
“I guess.”
“Don’t sound too excited about it.”
“It just won’t be the same, ya know?” I took a long pull on my beer.
“Yeah, being a Raider was something special, a once in a lifetime experience. But college will be good, you’ll see.”
I wished I could be as laidback as Asher. Even after everything he and Mya had been through with her ex, and with his mom getting shot, he still managed to paste on a trademark Bennet smile.
I envied him. His ability to dust himself off and embrace everything life had to offer.
I wanted it; I did. But fear held me back. Fear about the future... about everything changing.
Rixon was my home.
But Hailee was my heart and I knew I’d follow her anywhere.
“Yo,” Jase yelled over his shoulder. “Steaks are almost done.”
“And that’s our cue to get the salad,” Felicity mumbled.
“And the sauce. Don’t forget the hot sauce.” Asher smirked. “Oh and bring some pickles and some of those—”
“Babe,” Mya clipped out. “You have legs.”
“Yeah, but I’m supervising Jase.”
I snorted at that.
“It’s a good thing I love you.” She rolled her eyes playfully before taking off after the girls.
“I love her so fucking much,” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
But I got it.
We all did.
We were young. Three guys chasing their dreams of football, fame, and fortune. But we’d already found our forever girls.
And that was worth everything.
Every fucking thing.
Hailee
“I am stuffed.” Felicity sat back rubbing her swollen stomach.
“You’ll be stuffed later,” Jason smirked.
“Is that a promise?” Desire glittered in her eyes.
“Guys, really?” I groaned, and Cameron squeezed my hand, fighting a smile.
“What?” She shrugged. “We’re all friends.”
“Damn right, we are.”
Jason reached for his beer and thrust it in the air. “No matter what the next four years bring, you’ll always be my best friends.”
“Aww, love you too.” I poked out my tongue at him and everyone laughed.
“You’re not so bad, Raine.”
“Likewise, Ford.”
It was hard to believe there had been a time when Jason and I couldn’t stand one another. He still drove me crazy sometimes, but I loved him like a brother. He was fiercely protective of those he cared about, and that now included me.
“But seriously, guys, we might not be Raiders anymore, but we will always be friends. Distance won’t change that.”
“Easy for you to say,” Cam said, glancing between Jase and Asher, “you’ll be a stone’s throw away from each other.”
He chuckled, but I heard the strain there. Cameron was coming to Michigan for me, for my dream, and I couldn’t help the tiny pang of guilt I felt. He reassured me all the time it was the right move, but I didn’t ever want him to regret it.
Or resent me.
My shoulders sank.
“Hey.” He squeezed my hand and I lifted my eyes to his. “I’m joking… it was a joke.”
“I know.”
“You think he’d really go anywhere you’re not?” My stepbrother asked me.
“Jase,” Flick warned.
“It’s okay,” I said, forcing a weak smile. “Nine hours is nothing. We can still see each other at the weekend and at holidays.”
“Damn right we can.” Asher tipped his beer at us. “Nothing, not college, distance or time, is going to ruin this.”
His words settled over the six of us, turning the air thick with anticipation.
College was a big step. Things would change. We would change.
But was Asher right?
Were the bonds between us strong enough to survive?
Part I
Sophomore Year
Jason
“Okay, gather round,” Coach Faulkner called us in, and we fell into position around him. Shoulder to shoulder, teammate to teammate. The anticipation of a new season was thick in the air. Last season, as a freshman, I’d been so close to tasting victory, but in the end it had been Cornell who took the title.
It had been a bitter pill to swallow. I wanted to be the best, to win, to prove myself.
But this year… this year it was ours. We were thirsty for it: training harder, pushing harder. I might have only been with the Quakers for a year, but I felt at home here. We had strong leadership, a strong defense, and one of the best offenses in the whole damn country.
It was our year to bring that trophy home.
So the grim line on Coach’s face had a pit carving through my stomach. Something was about to happen. Something that affected the team.
Fuck.
“I’ve got some news, ladies, and you’re not going to like it.” He yanked off his Quaker ball cap and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Manella is out.”
A collective grumble filled the air.
Lincoln Manella was our running back, our fucking captain. It was his senior year; he was supposed to be entering the draft next spring. He couldn’t be out.
“Just got word from his old man. He tore his ACL and needs surgery.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, flicking my eyes to my friend Gio. His lips pulled into a thin line.
This was bad.
Very fucking bad.
“So, what’s the plan, Coach?” Jared Galloway, our starting fullback and one of the senior players, asked.
“We need a new captain.”
All eyes slid to me.
“Whoa.” I held up my hands and stepped back, bumping into the player behind me. “It should be an upperclassman.”
There were guys on the team who had more seniority than me, more experience. Just because I’d arrived last year a true freshman, taking the QB position from the senior player before me, didn’t mean I’d wanted or been qualified enough to be the captain.