Page 62 of Strong Side

Jesus fucking christ.

I clear my throat, reminding these two they’re in an extremelynotprivate hallway. Theo shoves Jax away from him with force. Okay, Theo has a decent amount of muscle underneath that polo because Jax isn’t exactly a small individual. “Knee’s looking good, Jackson. Just keep up the conditioning and you’ll be set for next season.”

I roll my eyes dramatically, letting them know I’m clearly not buying the bullshit. Wait.

“Next season?” I ask, looking at Jax.

“Yeah,” he runs his hand through his messy black hair. “I was going to tell you after championship week was over. I’m using my fifth-year eligibility and coming back to play next year. I have some advanced-level coding and programming classes I could take, and I just wantedone more year to play. I’m not looking to make it a career, but I just—” He inhales a deep sigh. “I just wasn’t ready to be done yet. I want one more year so I can end it my way. Ya know?”

I look at my best friend, then over at Theo, who has his eyes firmly planted on the ground. I know this could very well have just as much to do with him as it does Jax wanting to play, but he hasn’t explained to me whatever the fuck is going on with them. Regardless of the fact that we all know that I know what I know. Jackson looks at me with pleading eyes, silently asking me to both understand and not confront him about this yet. And I won’t. But for all intents and purposes Jackson Baker, is my brother, so I do want to make one thing crystal clear.

“That’s great, man.” I clap him on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you, really. You deserve to have a great final season. Just take it easy over the summer.” My eyes look toward Theo, who has finally grown the balls to look at me. I may be talking to Jax, but my next words are directed toward him. “Would hate to see you get hurt. Again.”

Theo pins me with a glare, but my stare doesn’t waver. Understanding I’m not budging, he asks, “Did you need something from me, Clayton?”

“Yup,” I answer with all of the sunshine I can muster. “Just need you to tape up my wrist quick. Tweaked ita little yesterday on a dive and figured better safe than sorry.”

Trying to change the subject, Jax states, “You feel good about today?”

“Great.” I refocus my attention on him as Theo spins on his heels to go into his office to get a roll of athletic tape.

“Don’t, Clay. I’ve got it handled.”

“Got what handled? I didn’t say a word. Just telling you to take it easy over the summer, like the good friend I am.”

His eye roll rivals mine. “There’s just some…stuffwe’re trying to work out.”

I huff a sarcastic laugh. “Like the fact that he’s a staff member and you’re a student.”

“It’s not like I’m eighteen years old, Clay. I’ll be twenty-three in August.” Jax shakes his head. “Not that it matters because nothing is going on. Not a damn thing.” He speaks the last words as if they physically pain him to say.

“So you staying here an extra year has nothing to do with him?”

“Don’t make me lie to you.”

I hold Jackson’s face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I’m here when you’re ready to tell me. I have your back.Always.”

He nods in my hold, and I don’t miss the way his eyes have suddenly glossed over. Then his voice cracks as he speaks softly, “I know.” Before I can say another word, Theo comes back out, the roll of tape in hand. Jax clears his throat. “I’m going to go find my seat. Emerson said he was sitting by Rocky’s sister, Liliana, and his parents. I’ll see you after. Good luck, and kick some ass.”

Without another word toward Theo, Jackson walks away, forcing me to sit through the most awkward five minutes of my life, alone.

Should have just stayed in the locker room staring at Rocky’s fuckable face.

As South Carolina’s player walks to the back of the court for what could be the final serve of the game, Rocky and I glance over at one another, all while getting in our ready positions, both of us knowing this could bethe end of our collegiate career or the moment where everything changes. The sun is blaring down, Rocky and I are covered in sweat and sand, and the stands are full as they cheer us on—The Campos’, Jackson’s, and Emerson’s voices roar above the rest. Hell, even Kevin and Nancy are here.

I have never felt more alive.

As much as I enjoy having a comfortable lead,thisis the moment I live for. The one where everything is down to the wire.

It’s our third match. South Carolina won the first set and us the second. We’re now winning 14-13. If South Carolina misses this serve or we get a side out, we win. We’ll be in the championships this time tomorrow.

This is it.

The whistle blows, and South Carolina’s player throws it up in the air. Hitting the ball, the serve sails right toward my outstretched arms. Ready for it, I pass it up perfectly. Rocky’s underneath it in a few quick steps, backsetting it to the number three position in the middle of the net. Seeing an open spot, I tip it over to the front right side of South Carolina’s court, but one of their players is able to dig it up from the sand.

Two desperate passes later, the ball is floating over the net. I easily receive the ball and pass it up to Rocky at the net. He bump-sets to the right side of the net. Myfoot slips in the sand, so I’m not able to attack it like I wanted, and instead hit it with the heel of my hand, barely getting it over as the opposing player grazes the ball in an attempted block.

“Come on, Clay! You got this!” Lilliana’s screams like a banshee over the announcer’s voice as I gasp for breath, sweat pouring down my face.

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