“You should eat at least one oily fish per week.” I could hear the boredom in my own voice; this was not the first time we had had this conversation. I opted for sports therapy when I was fourteen, and from then until now, every week, it seemed I was arguing with these guys about my food recommendations. Even when I hadn’t been “in” with them, I’d still kept an eye on them.
Jett hated any green vegetable but would eat it if forced, and he needed to be forced.
Ash watched every calorie like it was an enemy. His dad played defense, and Ash was determined to play tight end. He refused to put more weight on, his fear that the draft would see him, know his father, and a team would select him and change him from a tight end to a defensive lineman.
Gray hated fish.Hatedit. He would force it down quicker thanJett would his greens. Put chicken in front of Gray, and he would eat it every day and night until the end of time. I would not get a good grade if I fed the running back of the Cardinal Saints variations of chicken, salad, and pasta every day.
I had been outside of their friendship for a short time, but even then, six years —six years— of telling these stubborn, bullheaded men what to eat was still a battle. Why would they never listen to me?
“I should also fuck a different girl every night to keep it entertaining, but I don’t.”
Pulling my hair out of the makeshift bun I had created for the lesson, I fluffed my hair out as I reached over for my purse, my hands wanting to wrap around his throat and squeeze tight. “You say suchcharmingthings it’s a wonder your bed is ever empty.” My smile was saccharine sweet, and as I left the asshole standing in his kitchen, I heard his low chuckle as I left the house.
Prick.
Our relationship was rocky; everyone knew it. Ash believed his cousin took his side when I broke it off with him. Gray had never spoken up in my defense. And why would he? It wasn’t like he told them he was the one who told me to end it. It wasn’t like he was going to turn around to his family and tell them he had fucked me in the girls’ bathroom not fifteen minutes after I confessed to Ash I’d cheated on him.
He knew I would never tell them either. I was already public enemy number one at that point; no need to drag him down with me.
Because for all the resentment I held for Gray Santo, the truth was simple. I had been a willing participant. I had crawled onto his lap half-naked and begged him to touch me. He hadn’t, but had he shown less restraint that night, Iwouldhave cheated on my boyfriend. I would have, and the fact that I had the intent to cheatmade me just as guilty as if I had actually had sex with someone else.
Not someone else.
Gray.
As I walked back to my dorm, my mind was on the past. There had always been something between Gray and me, a pull, a . . . bond? No, not a bond; that was too . . .binding. An attraction?
The very first day I met him, he called me stupid and a chicken. No, attraction was definitely not the right term. Yes, he was gorgeous, but they all were. It was more of a . . . challenge? Yes. He tested me and questioned me on every goddamn thing. Always pushing me. Always fighting back.
He argued over every single thing. Even when the fucker agreed with me, he would twist it so he looked like he didn’t. It was frustrating.Hewas frustrating. It was a constant fight, a struggle, a seemingly never-ending wrestling match. One where I would not be beaten, and he would not give in.
Gray was exhausting, it was true, but he was addictive. I craved him like he was a drug. When he turned away from me, I had never felt so empty. So alone.
Jett had stepped back for a few months to give Ash time to accept the breakup, which meant he watched his cousin sleep with anything in a skirt. Gray, to the best of my knowledge, kept his thoughts to himself. Was it guilt that stilled his tongue? Or his usual indifference to human emotion?
I laughed lightly as I climbed the stairs to my dorm suite, my harshness toward him lightening my mood. I had a reasonably sized one-bedroom apartment with an adjoining bathroom and a separate living space. I shared a kitchen and larger common area with three other girls, but they were clean and tidy, and I hardly ever saw them. I knew they were all friends and hung out, but the offer was never extended to me.
Why would they?
I was Quinn Lawrence. I was friends with the Devils, and I was not known for being overly friendly with anyone else. Yes, I had female acquaintances, and there were lots of people I talked to, but I rarely spent time with them outside of campus hours.
Ava was the closest thing I had to a girlfriend, and she was wary of me, as well she should be. I hadn’t given her a warm welcome. True, I’d thought she was a conniving snake trying to ruin my best friend’s career, but even though I was thecheating bitchin our group, I was still one hundred percent loyal. You did not mess with my boys.
I thought Ava was playing Jett, so welcoming I was not. When I found out what had actually happened and knowing Jett would blame himself, I had made it my personal mission to befriend Ava. In truth, as I got to know her, I liked her. She was funny, open, and so genuinely honest I wanted to wrap her in cotton wool so she always stayed so guilelessly innocent.
Ava took everything at face value, and I truly wondered if her naivety was what drew Jett to her. Even though she had a sharp tongue and she spoke without thought, she wasn’t malicious. She wasn’t insincere. She wasn’t fake.
She and Jett were perfect together. Her wholesomeness was exactly what he needed to keep him centered. Adding on to that, she was almost as obsessed with football as he was; she was the perfect partner. It had been a few weeks since the incident with Derrick, and I think we had all accepted pretty quickly that Ava wasn’t going anywhere.
Slipping off my sneakers, I put them in the bedroom where I dropped my book bag. Walking back into the living area, I dropped ungraciously onto the couch, and as I closed my eyes, I heard the ping. I could ignore it. A minute later, it pinged again as a reminder that I had a message.
With a low groan, I pushed myself off the couch and went to the bedroom. I was pretty sureI knew who it was.
Gray:You back?
I contemplated ignoring him, but he would just message again. Control freak bastard.
Me:Yes
