“Why does Callahan have that room?” I wasn’t jealous, just curious. The space I was renting was more than enough, and located at the end of the hall, it was private, which was a bonus.
“As guys move in and out, they play musical rooms with the master suite. He was here ahead of Bax and me, so he moved in when it came open. There’s one thing we all have to put up with though.”
I raised a brow.
“The house is in good shape, but it’s old, which means modern amenities like plumbing were added later. The hot-water heater is in the basement, and it’s not especially big. First guy in the shower gets hot water. After that, it’s a crap shoot.” He shot me a sage look. “Plan accordingly.”
“I noticed each of the bedrooms have locks on the doors. Do I need a key to mine?”
“Oh, yeah.” He led me back into the bedroom that would be mine and walked over to the window where he retrieved a key resting on the sill. “Here you go.”
Eyeing the key in my hand, I asked, “Do I need to be worried about you guys short-sheeting my bed or dropping a bag of dog shit on my head when I open my door some drunken night?”
Finn laughed. “Nah. The locks are for party nights. If you’re downstairs having a few brews or you’re out at some other party, you’ll want to lock up your room—unless you don’t mind someone else getting busy in your bed.”
I threaded the key onto the ring with my car keys. “I’ll pass.”
“Thought so.” He smirked. “Anytime you want to move in, just say the word. You can use my truck.”
“Everything I own fits in the ’Stang, but thanks. Furniture stores deliver, right?”
“Yep. And they haul it all right up to your room.” He waggled his brows.
I grinned back. “Then I guess that’s where I’m headed.”
We jogged back downstairs, and Finn beelined to the kitchen.
“You want something to eat first?” he tossed over his shoulder.
Damn. I could get used to this being on a team thing. “I could eat.”
He rummaged around in the fridge and produced a bag of salad and something in a foil wrap. “Every Sunday, Bax and ’Han make breakfast burritos for the week. Since Coach moved practice to tomorrow afternoon, we’ll probably make pancakes or something. But we wouldn’t want these to go to waste.”
I took note of which cupboard and drawer he pulled plates and silverware from and where he set the plates on the table. From the looks of things, “new guy” had to wedge himself in around the back of the round table, which sat in the corner of the kitchen near a back door.
“What’s in there?” I asked, nodding toward that door.
“Oh, I forgot. That’s the laundry room. Walk through it to the back door that leads to the back yard. In the alley is a converted carriage house. You can park your car in it if you want, but the garage door is temperamental. Fair warning.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
As I checked out the laundry room with its modern front-loading washer and dryer, I marveled at how clean and neat the house was. The guys’ discipline on the field extended to the way they lived off the field. Clearly, I’d be sharing a space with men not boys, which told me I’d made the right decision in accepting their offer.
When the timer on the oven went off, Finn pulled the hot burritos out, set them on our plates, and plopped the bag of salad in the middle of the table. He pulled a mason jar of ranch dressing and a jar of hot sauce from the fridge and set them beside the salad. Snagging a couple of squares of paper towel from a roll attached to the wall by the sink, he laid them beside our plates and gestured for me to sit.
After unwrapping his burrito and dousing the end of it liberally with hot sauce, he ate about a third of it in the first bite. Deciding I wanted to know what I was eating, I inspected mine first, and my mouth watered at the sight and smell of sausage, scrambled eggs, and cheese. I squirted hot sauce on the end and savored a heavenly bite.
Finn shook some salad onto his plate and covered it in ranch. Spearing a bite with his fork, he chewed, swallowed, and gave me a long look. “Why the military? Why didn’t you try out for the team after you graduated?”
“My dad’s retired Air Force. We traveled too much for me to have decent stats on the field or in the classroom. You gotta have both to get a serious look.” I downed another bite of burrito. “This way, Uncle Sam foots the bill for tuition, books, and a small living stipend so I can concentrate on classes and football.” I wiped my mouth with my “napkin” and noticed Finn’s burrito was history. “By the way, what’s my share of the rent?”
Finn shot me a figure. Based on my research, the amount was unfortunately right in the ballpark for rents in the area. Uncle Sam’s stipend wasn’t going to cover anything outside of the dorms, but I couldn’t face living in them. Next up after bed shopping would be job shopping. Hopefully I’d find something compatible with classes and practice.
We cleaned up from lunch and walked out into the living room. “You up for aCODrematch before this afternoon’s practice?” The hope in Finn’s voice was almost comical.
“Sorry, man. I’m gonna head out and see what I can find for furniture for my room.”
Shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts, he said, “Understandable. Let me know if you need my truck to help you move anything.”
