Dean’s entire body relaxed, the light returning to his eyes. Guilt clawed down my chest—I’d made him stress. All the dude wanted was to take care of his twin sister, and my uptight ass had almost prevented him.
“What do you think? A contract? We can list the rules?” Dean cleared his throat and glanced at each of us, but his gaze returned to me. “Would that help?”
“I don’t care at all.” Ollie shrugged. “Girls smell nice.”
“Okay, you’re notsmellingmy sister.”
He smirked and arched a brow. “Obviously, but it’s a known fact girls smell better.”
“Eh, Lo is an athlete. She works out most the time, has this gym bag that has never been washed… she’s… wait, why are we talking about this?” Dean groaned and hit the table. “Again, Lo is my sister. There’s a rule about that in the team handbook somewhere.”
Callum raised a hand, earning an eyeroll from me. The dude was too much.
“I vote no contract. If she causes issues, we’ll handle it with you.” He eyed Dean. “My sister is my favorite person in the world, and if she needed a place to stay, I’d make it happen with or without your approval.”
I hid my wince.
“Thanks for understanding.” Dean blew out a breath and met my eyes. “You sure you’re good?”
I nodded. What choice did I have?
It meant I’d have to keep my distance. Despite all the reasons I wanted to learn everything about her, I couldn’t. Dean said she was off-limits, and I couldn’t afford distractions. I couldn’t betray him, our leader on the field. My football future meant everything, and regardless of Lorelei’s full lips and gorgeous hair,it wasn’t worth even the slightest risk.
CHAPTERTHREE
Lorelei
Nothing caused my body to hum alive more than competition. It wasn’t just on the field, either. My favorite professor, Mrs. Gravestone, had mentioned the opportunity for a few students to have a kick-ass internship next summer to those who earned it, and it had become my sole identity.
I loved marketing and how words and images could cause reactions in people. Soccer had never been my end goal. It was my entire life, and I loved it, but I didn’t have the same dreams like some girls on the team who dreamed to play for the US Women’s team or even the Olympics. Me? I wanted to join a marketing firm. Would I work for the US Women’s team? Without question, but my passion was with words and creative ways to get people thinking.
In order to show my professor I was the right choice for the internship, I had to pick a solid project, and she’d already turned down my initial two ideas. They were too basic.
There was also the fun little element that Eric was in the same class as me, whoalsowanted the internship, so in my mind, getting it over him meant I won the breakup. Silly but not untrue. I sighed, rubbing my temples as I stared at the requirements for our semester-long project.
Mack slid her Gardettos across the library table, a large pile of the brown ones staring at me. “For you, Lolo. You have your stress sounds.”
“Angel.” I grabbed five of the beautiful salty snacks and crunched into them. “The spice combination is lethal. Like, how can something be this addictive?”
“Magic.” She laughed and adjusted the end of her French braid. My former roommate, best friend, and teammate pulled out another bag of my favorite food from her purse.
That had me on edge. She brought gifts when she had bad news. Like the time she’d cancelled our friend trip to Lake Michigan because her boyfriend surprised her in town or the weekend she baked me cupcakes when she lost my favorite pair of earrings. Mack with snacks equated to bad news.
My muscles tensed, preparing for the worst.
“What’s going on? Are you breaking up with me?” I forced a laugh, refusing to let the absolute flurry of butterflies in my stomach take over. “Mackenzie Marie, tell me right now.”
She swallowed and placed the flats of her hands on the table. “I found somewhere to live, but its only for one person, and I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t find a place with two, and I hate this so much.”
“Oh.” I exhaled, replaying her jumbled words over. “That’s… hey, don’t feel bad. My brother said I couldprobablystay with him.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “You don’t hate me? We planned on living together junior year for years. It was gonna be me and you, girl, partying and having fun and decorating after our vision boards.”
“Not even a little bit.” I squeezed her hand. “I mean, if my brother doesn’t let me crash with him, I might use your couch or something, but I’m hoping his ingrained guilt forces him to let me live there.”
“Couch, floor, anything you want.” Her teeth came down over her bottom lip as her attention moved toward the entrance of the library. “Great.”
“Hm?” I craned my neck and knew the object of her sarcastic comment.The football players.Dean told me how strict their coach was about study tables and ensuring their team GPA was stellar. I loved how most of the guys took studiesandfootball seriously. With all the injuries, it never made sense to bank on just athletic ability. Hell, look at Gage, the reason I might have a room to stay in.
