Page 23

For twelve days, the receipt with Nicole’s number on it had sat inside Drew’s playbook. He saw it every day when he opened the cover, and by the end of the first week, he’d learned it by heart without even trying.

That first Monday, he’d sat with the phone in one hand and the receipt in the other, only to hang up after dialing four digits. By Wednesday, he’d told himself he would call just to say hey, but he never picked up the receiver. The following Saturday night, when the team bus pulled into the lot after a road win, he’d caught himself staring at the pay phone outside the field house, wondering if Nicole was home or out at some party, laughing with a guy who wasn’t him.

The next week was more of the same. Every day he swore he’d call tomorrow, and every day he found another reason to wait. By then, he’d also have to explain why the hell he’d taken so long, and Nicole would see straight through any excuse about being busy. Somehow, not calling felt worse.

And now it was Thursday, just past noon, and Drew was cutting across the quad after his last morning class with an hour to kill before the team meeting. Students were everywhere, sprawled across the grass and packed onto the benches. He kept his head up and nodded at whoever called his name. A cheerleader he’d never fucked grabbed him for a hug he didn’t ask for, and some guy he’d shot pool with a couple of times bumped fists with him as he passed. Half the campus knew who he was, but most days he barely noticed.

He spotted Nicole about thirty yards off the path, under one of the huge sycamores that had been there longer than half the buildings. Seven or eight people were gathered around her, all of them Black. The guys were decked out in crimson and cream, Greek letters stretched across their chests.

The whole group was laughing and carrying on like they owned that part of the quad, but Drew was only looking at Nicole. She stood a little apart from the others, close to one guy in particular.

Who the fuck was this dude? He looked a few years older than the rest. A grad student, maybe? Had to be the ex—the one she’d said she was “sort of” getting back together with.

The guy said something, and Nicole laughed, tipping her head back as one hand came up to her collarbone. From where he stood, Drew couldn’t hear her, but he remembered that laugh from the party, the one that took over her whole face and made it hard to look anywhere else. Now she was giving it to somebody else.

His jaw went tight before he could stop it. Stupid reaction, considering he was the one who’d asked for her number and then gone quiet for twelve days. He had no right to be jealous. Nicole didn’t owe him a damn thing—not her time, not a second look, and damn sure not an explanation about the guy she was laughing with.

He knew better than to walk over there and put himself right in the middle of her afternoon.

Like I give a fuck.

Nicole didn’t even see Drew coming. Cedric gave him away first. His expression changed as his eyes lifted past her, and whatever he’d been saying about that Harlem Renaissance documentary died midsentence.

He stiffened, his chin lifting as he sized up whoever was coming up behind her. It was that look guys got when another guy moved in on something they’d decided was theirs.

Nicole kept her eyes on Cedric and tried like hell to stay in the conversation. From somewhere in the group, she could feel Toni staring at her. She didn’t have to look to guess what her friend was thinking, because the same question was running through her own mind.

What was he doing here?

Then Drew’s voice came over her shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

For real, though? Nearly two weeks without a phone call, and she hadn’t so much as seen him since the party. Drayton was huge, but after a year of spotting him all over campus, of course he would disappear when she needed to know if she’d meant anything to him at all. Now here he was, in front of Cedric, Toni, and everybody else, acting like she’d been sitting around holding her breath, waiting for him to remember she was alive.

Every last person in the group had frozen in place. Toni stood with her arms folded tight and her mouth pressed into a line. The girl next to her had her jaw damn near on the ground. One of Cedric’s frat brothers, a basketball player Nicole only half knew, looked at Drew like Drew had personally pissed in his Cheerios that morning. This was so not good.

Ignoring him wasn’t an option with everybody watching. Besides, she wouldn’t play him like that. Nicole gave Cedric a small, apologetic smile and turned just enough to face Drew.

And there it was—that irritation at how good he looked. His hair was freshly cut, shorter on the sides than the last time she’d seen him, with the top still long and pushed back off his forehead. Those blue-gray eyes stayed fixed on her, steady, like Cedric wasn’t even standing there.

“I’m actually in the middle of a conversation.” Nicole kept her voice neutral. “Catch you later?”

Polite enough to get him moving, though she had no intention of catching him later. But Drew stayed right where he was, looking stunned, like he’d never been turned down before.

She turned back to Cedric, but the conversation was dead. His eyes were locked on Drew, and all the warmth had gone out of his face.

“Babe, you know this guy?” Cedric stepped up beside her, shoulder to shoulder.

The second he called her babe, she could see the question all over Drew’s face. So she was back with this guy?

“Oh shit,” Toni said under her breath, though not quietly enough to keep the rest of the circle from hearing.

“Yo, Ced, you good?” one of Cedric’s frat brothers asked.

Cedric waved him off without looking away from Drew, then squared up. “My man, you need to go. She already told you she’s with me.”

Drew turned to Cedric, and something in him went cold. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“I’ll call you later,” Nicole said, holding Drew’s gaze. Please don’t make this worse.