CHAPTER FIVE
Don’t make a butthole of yourself
Jordie
ALMOST TWO YEARS LATER
“I’m so excited,” I squeal, hugging my new roommate as soon as she walks into our dorm room on a sunny day in August. I'm about to start my sophomore year, and my roommate from last year graduated in May, so I’ve been assigned a first-year player.
“Me too,” Carrie Broxton says.
My face freezes when a large man steps into the doorway.
Holy fucking shit. That’s Axel Broxton.
I mean, I knew Carrie was the daughter of the famous NFL tight end, but seeing him in person,in my dorm room, is a whole other ball of wax. The man was just nominated for the Hall of Fame, and he is absolutely glorious. Dark, wavy hair, blue eyes, and a body like a god, even though he’s in his early forties now.
“That’s my dad, Axel,” Carrie says oh-so-casually, like I’m not about to have a complete heart attack right now.
“Um, hi, Mr. Broxton. I hate to sound like a total fangirl, but you’re my favorite player ever in the NFL. You’re the reason I wanted to be a tight end. That performance you put on against San Francisco six years ago was the single best football game I’ve ever seen. Five touchdown receptions, and I’m sure your season YAC average must have gone upat least ten points just from that day alone. And oh my god, I’m rambling.” I fan my face. “I am so sorry.”
He laughs and enters the room, pulling one hand from the pocket of his navy-blue shorts to shake my hand. Axel freaking Broxton is literally touching my hand right now, and I’m concerned for my health. Is it normal for my heart to beat this quickly? I have the biggest crush on him, though not in a sexual way. It’s more of a… football crush.
“Jordie, I’m a big fan of yours as well. You were a standout last season as a freshman. Very impressive.”
Holy hell, the best tight end in the history of the NFL has watched me play? I’m retroactively nervous at the thought.
“Thank you, Mr. Broxton. That means a lot coming from you.” Yeah, that sounded good.Nice and cool, Jordie. Don’t make a butthole of yourself.I clamp my lips shut before I do exactly that.
“We’re excited you two are going to be roommates,” the football god says, pulling Carrie to him with a big arm around her neck and kissing the top of her head. “Right, Care Bear?”
“Daa-aaaa-add!” she complains, drawing the word out. “I told you not to embarrass me.”
I laugh and assure her, “Don’t worry about it. My family will be here in a few minutes, and I’m sure they’ll completely humiliate me.”
Axel grins. “It’s our right as parents. Kind of a payback for getting puked on and having to suffer through the dramatic preteen years.” His nose scrunches up. “Not sure which was worse.”
Carrie elbows him playfully, and he gives an exaggerated wince. These two look so much alike. She’s around six foot three, so a few inches shorter than her dad, but Axel definitely branded her with his dark, wavy hair and sapphire eyes.
“I think you’ve met my brother, Mr. Broxton,” I start, but he corrects me.
“Call me Axel. Please.”
I stumble over my words. “I-I’ll try, A-Axel.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “You’ll get used to it. Your brother is Ward, the hockey player, right?” At my nod, he continues. “We did a commercial together a while back. Great guy. How the hell is he?”
“Good. He’ll be here with most of the rest of my family,” I tell him, rolling my eyes though I’m secretly pleased for their support.
“I didn’t realize you two were related until I ran into him recently,” he says, cocking an eyebrow but politely leaving out the obvious lack of resemblance between us. Bubba is mixed race with dark hair and eyes, while I’m White with blonde hair and aqua eyes. Not to mention we have different last names.
“We’re half-siblings. We share a mother,” I say before explaining. “She’s not in the picture.” I always feel the need to point that out before people inevitably ask where she is.
Carrie wraps an arm around my shoulder. “That’s okay. I can loan you my mom if you ever need anything. She’s super sweet.”
The gesture is so kind and sincere it almost makes me tear up. Then we hear a voice from down the hall.
“I swear to god, Dex, if you fart one more time, I’m going to plug your butthole with a wine cork.”
