Page 4 of The Trade

“Sure, I get it.” He pats me on the bicep. “But you probably ruined your one shot of ever hooking up with Shannon.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They’re teammates, man.” He gives me a lopsided grin. “You know, there is that whole girl code thing.”

“They’re not really that close.”

“They live together, dude.”

“Yeah, true,” I say with a careless half shrug. “But I heard Shan’s trying to move out at the end of semester—says she’s getting too old for the drama of it all.”

“There you go, man. You can wait until spring term to shoot your shot, then.”

“I don’t know. I’m not really trying to date.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

“I don’t know, Shan’s cool ... I just don’t know if she’d be down for a fuck-buddy situation.” Because at this point, that’s about the only thing I can manage. Between the team, my slipping grades, maintaining my scholarship, and my chance at the draft, there’s just too much hanging in the air for me right now.

It’s not that I’m against dating in general. But seriously, who has the fucking time for it all?

“Might as well try. She’s smoking hot.”

“Ridiculously hot, man.” I mull it over for another beat. “You know what? Maybe I will give it a shot. If the opportunity presents itself.”

He grins wide and gives me one sharp pat to the back. “Atta boy.”

Yeah, to hell with it. A potential night sharing the sheets with Shannon O’Connor? Only a saint with an iron will could pass up that offer.

2

JADE

I’mdown on my knees for the fifth time this week.

No matter how hard I scrub, the nail polish won’t come off the carpet in my spare room. I’ve tried every little home remedy, from hair spray to vinegar to good old-fashioned acetone, and nothing seems to work.

My brother, Mica, should be doing this work for me. He’s the one who wanted me to find a roommate in the first place. According to his twisted big-brother logic, it’s not “safe or practical” for a twenty-one-year-old woman to live alone in the city.

Under normal circumstances, I’d tell Mica it’s not safe or practical for him to tell me what to do. But considering he’s paid for my housing for the last three years, I guess I have to suck it up and listen to reason.

“Ace,” I chirp his nickname into the phone. “I can’t get this fucking stain out. No one’s gonna want to live in this room.”

“Then I’ll get the carpets redone, Lili.” He gives me an exasperated sigh. “It’s not a big deal.”

My brother has always called me Lili, and I’ve returned the favor by calling him Ace. We traded these nicknames as kids, creating an unspoken bond, a secret language meant just for us.

We’re the Jennings siblings—Jade Lilianna and Mica Aciano—our names inspired by gems and plants. Growing up, we were quite the formidable duo, far closer than most siblings of the opposite sex. And our parents always insisted that we were their perfect, little angel children.

While some might see me as mildly angelic, my brother’s quite the opposite. It’s a whole different story with him . . . and that’s putting it mildly.

Mica has always been a wild child. He’s a rule breaker, while I’m more straight-laced. He’s a cocky player, while I’m the girl who usually plays it safe. He’s a cornerback in the NFL, while I’m a ... college journalist.

We’re opposites, but we fit together like no one else.

“I probably won’t find someone in the middle of the term, anyway.” I shrug, pinning my cell phone against one shoulder. “You can have the carpets replaced during the break.”

“Lili,” he warns. “I want someone in there by spring term ...at the latest.”

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