“You’re not asking me what waylaid me?” Dust asked from the corner of his mouth.
“Nope,” I murmured back. “I’m guessing you have her number, though.”
“Damn straight,” Dustin said, and I could hear his smugness without having to even look at him.
I shook my head, but the two of us settled down and paid attention. I didn’t need to let my grades slip inallmy classes.
The morning went quickly; it always did.
Which is why my feet were a little slower in getting me to my next class before lunch. Education Policy and Governance. My least favorite hour of the week. The professor’s voice was like static, my notes a half-assed scatter of keywords that made no sense without the context. I'd picked it expecting an easy A. It wasn't.
By two, I was back in the athletic wing, eating lunch and then warming up. Three o’clock meant seven-on-seven drills — no pads, no real contact, just routes and coverages. I lived for this part. Dustin caught everything I threw his way, talking trash to the defensive line with every touchdown, and I saw Noah saying nothing, but I also knew he was going to switch positions and shut Dust down soon.
Just before five, I was easing into an ice bath that made my teeth chatter. My throwing shoulder was feeling even more tender — nothing that would keep me off the field, but enough to make me wince when the trainer dug into it.
“You gonna be ready for spring ball?” he asked.
“I’m ready now,” I said, and he said nothing as I schooled my face from the twinge as he dug his fingers into my muscle.
I distracted myself from the gnawing ache as he worked, and the distraction was in the form of one Savannah Cole.
The dean’s daughter. I hadn’t known who she was until later — why hadn’t she led with it? It was interesting that she hadn’t. Most people in her position would.
She was sharper than she looked. Trained in public politeness, but the dry edge under it was real. She had the same scowl her father wore, differently used. I’d need to be careful about what I said around her.
I was already being careful; now I’d need to bemorecareful.
She was definitely pretty. I didn’t like that I kept coming back to that.
She looked good, but I suspected that under the pretty packaging, she was as dull as her father.
She'd held my attention for a beat. I wasn't sure why. If she did it again, I’d need to find out.
“You’re good, Spence,” the trainer said, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Thanks.”
That was followed by an hour of film study. At six, when most of the guys hit the dining hall, I headed for the academic center. I had time to squeeze in some studying before meeting Savannah.
I half-heartedly flicked through an assignment for a sports management class that I could write in my sleep, and then went on to social media just to pass the time.
An image of Jett Santo wasn’t what I wanted to see when I opened my feed. I didn't waste energy on rivalries I couldn't win. Jett Santo, though — Jett was worth expending energy on.
I really didn’t like the so-calledDevils. Ash was okay, I corrected myself. But the twins? Gray was a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off, and Jett was a jerk.
Sure, he could throw a ball, and in truth, when we declared for the Draft at the same time, it would be a contest between which one of us got drafted first, which the media had alreadystarted to speculate on. But him, as a person, yeah... I just didn’t like him.
Ava, Jett’s girlfriend, andfartoo good for the likes of him, I really liked. She loved football, not in an ‘I’m saying this to seem cool and interesting’ way; her enthusiasm for stats would rival any player’s — hell, I bet she knew more about some players than they knew about themselves. The few times I’d met her at parties, I’d enjoyed our conversations. They’d all been about football, and she had no agenda for making it more; she was just enthusiastic about the game. It had never been more than just talking.
Plus, at the time I’d had a girlfriend, but we broke up at the start of last semester. I hadn't thought about her since she cheated.
The first time I saw Ava after the breakup was at a party on Cardinal Saints’ campus. Seeing Ava was a nice surprise, but realizing how close Jett stood to her was not.
I'd fucked with Jett at the party because I could. Jett had marked Ava like he owned her, and I wanted to see if Jett would bite.
Jett had bitten.
A few days later, I’d posted a picture of a blonde in a Lions shirt just to twist the knife.
