I drank down about half the can and leaned against the table, facing him. “Well, I thought I had a shot at it tonight.”
Giving me the universal gesture for “go on,” he said, “You didn’t have a date when I showed up at Stromboli’s.” He stilled. “Wait. Did you go after that cute little doll who showed up with Jamaica? Dude.”
When he put up his fist for me to bump, I left him hanging. Grinning, he sipped from his beer.
“She shot you down, huh?”
“Everything was going well. I offered to drive her home so she wouldn’t have to deal with Callahan and Jamaica’s mush.” I finished my third beer and went for a fourth. “She noticed I was taking the circuitous route to her place—”
“I was going to say something about slowing down on the beer,” Bax interrupted, “but since you still have your vocabulary, carry on.”
He laughed when I flipped him the bird.
“Anyway, we were having a nice getting-to-know-you conversation—one she was enjoying too, or she would have said something when she saw the route I chose to drive her home. But about twenty seconds after I parked in front of her dorm, Tory showed up and everything went to hell.”
“Wait. Jamaica’s hot friend lives in the dorms? She’s jailbait too?”
The censure in Bax’s voice irritated my nerves, but I didn’t rise to it. “Nah. She’s a junior, the RA on the floor above Jamaica’s.” Slumping down into a chair, I tipped back more beer.
“So what’s the problem?”
Shrugging, I said, “Beats me. Chessly got the wrong idea about Tory, I guess.”
My friend stared hard at me. “Wonder how that could have happened.”
Glaring balefully at him, I said, “I didn’t encourage one damn thing with Tory. She showed up out of nowhere and started banging on the windows of my truck right when I was about to talk Chessly into giving me her number.” I swigged back more beer as Bax joined me at the table. “Chessly took one look at Tory and jumped out of my truck as if the seat had caught fire. So while Tory yapped outside my driver’s window, I just had to watch her stomp into her building without giving me a backward glance.”
Crumpling up my empty can, I threw it into the recycle box and sighed. “The whole time we were at the bonfire, we kept sneaking looks at each other. From how she smiled my way a couple of times, I could have sworn I had a shot with her. Then Tory showed up, and I lost my chance before I could even take it.” I stared at the ceiling and wished like crazy for a different outcome to my evening.
Chessly was so damn pretty, and she smelled like sunshine and summer. The way she flipped back and forth between self-assured and careful simultaneously intrigued me and put me at ease. Plus, she liked science.
Damn, did I want to spend time with her.
“At the risk of piling on the shit, Callahan and I have been warning you about those jersey-chasers, Tory especially, since the semester started. That girl is going to make life hell for some poor schmuck, and you don’t want him to be you.” He tipped up his drink and finished it, tossing the empty into the box and staring between me and the cans on the floor that I’d tossed and missed.
Dragging myself to my feet, I stepped over to the recycle box and cleaned up. Sitting heavily back on my chair, I asked, “Is it so wrong to enjoy the attention of pretty girls?”
“Depends on the girls. Tory and her posse are bad news.” Bax leaned his forearms on the table. “Don’t forget what happened to Freeman when he got tangled up with Tory’s sister.”
With a snort, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Tory’s not interested in me anyway. She keeps asking about Callahan.” My roommate started to say something, but I put my hand up. “So I’ve kept my distance.” Narrowing my eyes, I added, “And as I recall, you’re the one who outed us to her when we all met at Stromboli’s before the bonfire.”
He looked away, a dull red tinge coloring his cheeks. “Fine. Sometimes I get suckered by a pretty face too. But it sure sounds like the girl cost you a shot at that blonde angel with the smart mouth.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
It was my friend’s turn to snort. “Like that’s gonna happen for you with a girl.”
“Fuck off, asshole.” I sounded petulant even to my own ears, and Bax laughed because we both knew he wasn’t wrong. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to score another shot with Chessly Clarke.
Yet when a picture of her porcelain skin and Delft blue eyes flashed in my head, I knew I was going to do my damnedest to find a way to make a better impression.
I lived for game days. Nothing fired up my blood like the anticipation of stepping onto the field with the goal of wrecking another team’s offensive plays for a few hours. Homecoming was especially sweet because every man in the locker room knew the other team desperately wanted to ruin our big day in front of a sold-out stadium of our fans and alums.
As I suited up to face the Tigers, a team who was on the rise in our conference, Bax sidled up to me.
“You gonna be on your game today?”
I scrunched my brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
