"It's a gift. Sneaking around means I'm always uncovering a few secrets. What's yours today?" he asks, breaking into his predatory smile.
I huff while unwrapping the towel from my waist, tossing it onto the locker room bench and then grabbing a pair of boxers from my locker.
"Nothing much, you insufferable gossip. I was just texting a friend," I answer calmly, but that only seems to make the blond even more interested.
"A friend, huh? Is that what you call your mystery hookups?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at me while he starts getting changed too. His locker is right next to mine.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a few other guys perk up their ears in our direction and I huff again. I was never going to understand everyone's fixation on my love life, just because I didn't go around flaunting it too much. I was no celibate, far from it, but I preferred to avoid gossip and problems, so I always leaned toward getting involved with people from outside the university. Which also made it easier to "exercise" my bisexuality in peace and be with other guys when I wanted. On the team, only Logan knew I was bi, because unfortunately the sports world was still really backward and homophobic. Since my dream was a career in the NFL, I was sadly forced to stay in the closet a while longer. At least until I could prove my talent as a running back at the professional level.
"No. And I'm not sleeping with her," I finally answer, in a low but firm tone. I pull a black T-shirt over my head and hear Logan laugh.
"I sensed an implied 'yet' at the end of that sentence," he fires off, dead-on as always.
"Well, maybe. If she wants to, I want to, you know?" I confess, shrugging, and my friend laughs a little more. "But we just started talking, there's literally nothing going on yet."
"Hmm... interesting anyway. And where's she from?" he goes on with the interrogation, curious as always. I hesitate for just a second, but it's enough for the bastard to catch it. "She's from here! What a miracle! Do I know her?"
I make a face and buy some time while I sit on the bench to put my sneakers on. The locker room is already emptying out, but Johnny's still around, so I'd rather not say anything out loud. Logan looks at me expectantly while I grab my phone back from the locker, unlock it, and open Charlotte's photo in the chat, then pass the device to him.
I watch him study the photo for a few moments and frown.
"Hot as hell. And she's not unfamiliar, I just can't remember where from..." my friend says, but his eyes go wide when understanding seems to hit him. "Shit, isn't this the..."
"Yes! So shut the hell up," I cut in quickly, seeing Johnny come out of the showers right then. Logan turns toward the kicker for a second, then looks back at me and lets out a loud laugh.
"You're no fool, my friend. The new look after the breakup did her a lot of good," he says as he hands my phone back.
"Getting rid of that leech did her a lot of good," I add bitterly, and Logan fakes a cough to hold back his loud laughter. I can't help cracking a small smile too.
"True. So you going for it, then?"
"I think so. I'm going to ask her out," I reveal, slinging my bag over one shoulder. Logan's finished getting changed too and follows me out of the locker room to our cars.
"That's the way, man. Let me know later if breakup sex is as good as they say," he requests, giving me a pat on the shoulder.
"Oh, shut up," I shoot back, shoving the blond away, and he just laughs. "See you at home, and don't forget it's your turn to buy dinner tonight!" I add, and Logan snaps a mocking salute in my direction.
"Yes, sir, Captain!"
I roll my eyes and flip him off before unlocking my car and getting in. I hear the sound of Logan's car starting up and pulling away, but I stop for a moment to check my phone. Luckily, there's a new message from Charlotte, which makes me grin from ear to ear.
Charlotte: How about that coffee at Evergreen tomorrow?
Chapter 5
Charlotte
This time, I was the one who had to cancel the coffee, because Professor Whitman got sick and I had to take over her class with the freshman group. Luckily, they had an assignment to work on and I just stood there answering questions, nothing too complex.
After dismissing the students at the end of the period, I gather my materials into my backpack and head down the hallway toward the dining hall. Lunchtime was getting close and my stomach was growling. I walk at a quick pace, dreaming of mashed potatoes and meat in gravy, when I trip on something and get saved from an ugly fall by running smack into a wall of muscle.
I automatically grab onto two strong arms until I'm steady on both feet again, and only then do I look up and find my rescuer's face.
"Ethan! Hi!" I greet him quickly, embarrassed. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I practically ran you over and..."
"No problem, I'm glad I kept you from meeting the floor," he assures me, giving me a sideways smile that only makes me blush. The once-over he gives me could just be to check whether I got hurt, but there's also a faint glint of admiration that makes me swallow hard. "You okay?"
"Yes, yes, thank you," I confirm, adjusting my bag on my left shoulder, since I never got it all the way on. I use these few seconds to look him over in return. Ethan's wearing the blue football team shirt with white stripes and light-wash jeans. The wet hair and the smell of cologne and soap coming off the player tell me he must have left practice not long ago.
