I pulled on my clothes. "Me too."
"I was surprised with how Scarlet acted tonight," he continued. "I mean, I know that she's not your biggest fan because of the bonfire and she's chalked you up to be another jerk football player, but you're never a topic of conversation."
Ouch.
Wilder would know, though, since he spent more time with Scarlet than most football players because he was dating her best friend, Olivia. The two of them had gotten together last year and been inseparable ever since.
Wilder grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "She and Mick did just break up though. I wonder if that had anything to do with tonight. Maybe she's mad at all guys right now."
My ears perked up at his words. Scarlet and Mick had broken up? That was news to me. Not that it mattered, because I still couldn’t even try to be with her, but it had been nice having that extra barrier between us, another reason to keep us apart. There was no way I’d ever try to get with a girl who already had a boyfriend. But now she was single. A single Scarlet seemed a lot more dangerous.
"No matter the reason," Slate piped in. "Steer clear of her. There are plenty of other women at this school who can help keep your bed warm at night."
"You should know," I said.
Slate was notorious for his womanizing ways, but the girls didn't seem to mind. How he went from girl to girl, sometimes in the same day, didn't deter any of them. They all wanted their turn. And his groupies had seemed to double since Wilder had gone off the market. The way women threw themselves at Slate was something you had to see to believe. None of the football players were lacking for a woman's affection, but Slate was on a whole other level. His large and muscular 6'5" stature, dark hair, and blue eyes caused women to flock to him like moths to a flame.
"Don’t be jealous," Slate mocked.
Wilder pushed Slate. "Shut up."
"Don't hate on me because I know how to have a good time. It's your own fault, for pining over a girl you can't have," he said, pointing to me before turning to gesture toward Wilder, "and tying yourself down to one woman."
"I don't consider being with Olivia as being tied down," Wilder argued. "Why would I want to spend meaningless nights with random women when I can be with the woman I love who is gorgeous, smart, funny, kind–"
"Okay, okay. We get it," Slate interrupted him. "We know you’re in love and all that garbage, and I'm happy for you. I am. Olivia is great, a one-of-a-kind type of girl. But you know that stuff isn't for me. You can have your committed relationship, but don't dis on me for not wanting one."
"I know, and I get why you feel that way. It wasn't too long ago I was in the same boat, but things can change."
"Not for me," Slate said matter-of-factly, his face serious.
"Whatever," Wilder said, shaking his head. "You ready to go? Olivia's waiting for me."
I watched them talk, and it reminded me of how I was with my brothers. But I guess with them being best friends their whole lives, they practicallywerebrothers. Wilder used to be more like Slate, anti-commitment and wanting to have as much fun in college as possible. But then Wilder had met Olivia, and everything had changed for him.
"Yeah," Slate answered and then turned to me. "You want to come with us? We're heading to the Wolf's Den to grab something to eat."
Now that Wilder had Olivia, Slate and I had been hanging out more, and I was grateful for the invite, but I wanted to go home.
"Nah, that's alright," I answered. "I'm going to head home. You guys have fun."
"Sounds good," Slate said. "We'll see ya at practice on Monday."
Once they were gone, I was the last person in the locker room. The rest of the team had already showered and left by the time we were done with the press conference. I grabbed the rest of my stuff and put it in my bag.
Tonight had been filled with highs and lows. We’d won our first game of the season, and I'd had one of my best games to date. I'd also caused a scene with Scarlet and put a target on my back with Coach Matthews. The pressures of playing well and not getting on Coach's bad list were already weighing heavily, and the season had just begun. I closed my locker, telling myself that I just needed to focus on football and everything would be fine.
I walked out of the building and into the night air, the lampposts along the sidewalks the only source of light, a few people milling around the buildings. Exhaustion started to set in, and I was glad my car wasn't parked too far away. As soon as I got home, I'd call my family to recap the game with them and then go straight to bed.
Lost in my thoughts of crawling into bed, I didn't notice the person who had been walking several yards in front of me. Strands of her long, curly brown hair reached down to the middle of her back, blowing in the light breeze. Her hips swayed to the beat of her heels clicking against the cement.
As I admired her from behind, I envisioned what it would be like to catch up to her and pull her into my arms, a look of surprise crossing her face before I planted a kiss on her full lips, feeling her sink into me as she'd throw her arms around my neck, and then enjoying the feel of her body connecting with mine in all the right places.
I shook my head before my thoughts could take me any further. What was wrong with me? I hadn't daydreamed about her like this since shortly after the bonfire. Was it because I now knew she was single? Had that one piece of information unlocked something in my overactive imagination? Or did it have anything to do with the underlying meaning of her questions tonight, knowing that she'd enjoyed our time together and was still thinking about it, still thinking about me?
I passed my car and continued to follow her to make sure she made it to her car safely, being sure to keep a far enough distance that she wouldn't see me. Once she was inside her car, I turned around going back toward where my car was parked.
It had only been a few minutes since I had decided to focus on football and only football, but now after seeing Scarlet again, my thoughts were all scrambled, and those swaying hips of hers weren't helping. This was not good. This was so not good.
