Page 73 of Keep Me

“So, you want her to be with us at our table? Have you forgotten that I’ll also have to be at said table and will have to suffer through you arguing all night? Thea wants to rush Alpha Delta Theta. You just have to let her.” He mulled that point over. “Wait a minute. Is that why you want her there? Is that the night of the rush?”

Tanner pursed his lips, and that tense jaw of his was enough of an answer.

Jackson cackled. “Then it’s a definite no. Honestly, what’s your obsession with keeping her out of that thing? I get it, Aster had a shitty time, but all those people who were mean to her are gone.” Jackson shrugged, and I followed behind them, happy the conversation wasn’t about me. “She’s in college, let her do what she wants.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” he said. “Come on. Please. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did I become the resident babysitter of the house?”

“You aren’t a babysitter. Thea really likes you, and it’s not like you have anyone else to take.”

“You sure about that? I hear there’s a particularly hot blonde reporter out there that might need a date.” My head whipped up to see Jackson grinning at me. “What do you think, Matty? Now that Britt’s gotten you out of her system, do you think I’ve finally got that chance?”

“You’re not going anywhere near her,” I gritted out, much to the amusement of my friends.

“Who’s stopping me?” Jackson was goading me. Trying to get me riled up for the game. I’d no doubt shown how disinterested I was, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to go on a rampage. “You know, I heard she’s been getting cozy with some guy on the hockey team. Erik Steele, right? Maybe I need to show her how real players handle their balls since she gave up on us after testing yours.”

That was it. It didn’t matter he was one of my best friends, I wanted to kill him. I charged him, running so fast he hadn’t braced for the hit.

“Fuck,” he yelled when he fell to the ground with me on top of him just outside the tunnel. The crowd cheered, but I was solely focused on Jackson and how much I wanted to kill him.

“If you think Britt is going anywhere near you and your Mickey Mouse tattooed ass, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Dude,” Jackson cried. “I was only joking. You need to chill.”

Tanner pulled me off Jackson and looked down at him. “And you need to stop being an ass. Why provoke Matty?” Pushing in front of me, Tanner held his hand out to Jackson, who reluctantly accepted it. When Jackson realized we’d drawn a lot of attention and several people were recording us, he accepted it, pulling out one of his signature grins.

Then he opened his arms and bowed to both sides of the tunnel. “Thank you for watching our little skit. We like to call that ‘Teammates until the dream dies.’”

Taking another step into the stadium, he found the camera closest to him and pointed into it. “Hopefully this performance will get me a role as the nextFootball Bachelor.”

“Idiot,” Tanner said, pushing him away from the cameras and toward the benches. As I stalked behind them, I saw the looks on the coaches’ faces. They’d seen the entire thing, and I knew I’d get a lecture at the end of this.

Whatever. None of it mattered. The game was about to start, so the only thing I needed to focus on was the space between the goal posts and scoring points.

But then blue eyes caught mine.

Fuck.

Two seconds in the stadium and I’d found Britt. She was breathtaking as usual as she held a microphone and stood next to my spot of the players’ bench.

Her brows were creased with concern. She was worried about me, and since I didn’t want her thinking I was weak, I gave her a wink, biting down on my bottom lip as I took her in. That girl could make any sane man lose their concentration. Wearing a fucking Covey Wildcats jersey, I was convinced she walked out of my wet dreams.

Holding my helmet, I strolled over to her, and even though she took a few tentative steps back, she didn’t leave. Partly because she had nowhere to go, but at least she wasn't screaming for help, or anything.

“H-hey, Matty,” she said, looking at the ground, still trying to avoid me, but I wasn’t surprised. She was embarrassed about the whole vibrator in her bed situation. She didn’t need to be, though. It was hot as hell thinking about her doing that.

“Britt.” I took her in and let out an audible tut. “Why are you wearing a Brennon jersey?” I asked, and she slowly looked up at me.

“Because it’s my last name,” she stated.

I stared at her, and when she didn’t get the message from that, I said, “I think we both know it should be Mathieson on your back.”

She pursed her lips, doing a terrible job of hiding her annoyance. “No it shouldn’t.”

“Vegas,” I said as a single statement.

“Olana.”

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