I shrug. “Why would I be? It was good. Like,reallygood. And I don’t do regrets.”
Daniel snorts. “Yeah, you do people instead.”
“That too.”
Colton turns to Micah, resting his head back against his boyfriend’s knee like he’s seconds from cardiac arrest. “Please tell me you’ll never sleep with a coach.”
Micah hums. “I don’t know. That swim coach is kind of?—”
“Micah.”
“I’m kidding. Relax. You’re the only one for me. Besides, I'm not the one who needs a leash.”
Will tilts his head. “Actually, Luke probably wouldn’t mind one.”
“Y’all are obsessed with my sex life,” I say, brushing crumbs off my shirt. “It’s giving jealousy.”
“It’s givingreckless,” Colton shoots back. “What if he benches you out of spite?”
“He won’t,” I say, with more confidence than I probably deserve. “Coach Gray’s a lot of things, but he’s not unprofessional.”
“And if he starts acting weird?” Daniel asks.
I smirk. “Then I’ll just have to act weirder.”
“Please don’t,” Will mutters.
“No promises.”
EIGHT
SILAS
A week in,and I know all their names.
I know Taylor favors a three-step drop, even when it’s not in the playbook. I know Peoples reads coverage before the snap and still doesn’t trust his gut. I know Ty and Will talk shit better than they block. And I know that Luke Maddox—my running back—is a goddamn problem.
On the field, he’s quick. Shifty. Explosive. He waits until the last possible second to cut and somehow still finds the lane. It’s instinctual, not rehearsed. Dangerous. And fucking familiar.
Too familiar.
Because the way he runs—eyes scanning, hips low, center of gravity a breath from tipping—is the way Xavier used to run before everything went sideways. And it grates. Lodges under my skin like glass.
I cross my arms as Luke jogs back from another drill, laughing at something Will says, his helmet tucked under one arm, curls damp and clinging to his forehead.
He looks…confident.
No. Cocky.
And worse—comfortable.
His chemistry with the rest of the offense is undeniable. They light up around him. Lean in. Laugh at his stupid jokes, even when they’re barely disguised innuendos.
Like now.
“I mean,” Luke says as he passes the water cooler, “I’m just saying, if anyone needs hands on practice, mine are free after ten.”
A few of the guys groan. Colton throws a towel at him.
