Page 8 of Love at Second Down

“What? No way. You’re not getting off the hook this easy,” Chris says with a shake of the head.

“Yeah. I had plans,” Jace adds with a meaningful look.

Brandon scoffs. “Yeah, we heard about your loud-ass plans already, remember?”

Jace narrows his eyes at him before turning to West. “You’ve gotta have some idea what this is about. You live with the man.”

West shrugs and brings a slice of pizza to his lips, knocking off a piece of sausage in the process. I watch as it falls and bounces down his shirt like a fucking rubber ball, leaving a massive sauce skid mark in its wake.

I shake my head, wondering how this fucker can possibly be one of the best kickers in the league yet have the dexterity of a toddler.

“You know how he is,” West says, frowning as he absentmindedly dabs at the sauce with a napkin. “He’s got zero feelings.”

Relieved, I sink back into the sofa.

“But, if I had to guess,” he continues, setting his pizza back in the box, “I’d say this is about Avery.”

Well, shit.

I stare at him for a moment, slightly mollified. For a clumsy, introverted motherfucker, he’s awfully astute. It’s not like I’ve gone around blabbing about her. In fact, I do everything in my powernotto think about her.

I glance away from where his blue eyes with their odd purple hue are locked on mine to find the rest of the guys eyeing me now.

“Damn, he’s right,” Brandon says, the first to speak.

“Fuck.” Jace sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at me like I’m an exhibit. “I knew the second you told us your ex was transferring here, that she was going to be a problem.”

“That’s because women arealwaysthe problem,” I grumble.

Taking a deep breath, I try to relax, but it’s hard when all four men in this room are relying on me these next few weeks. They’ve seen how hard I’ve worked. Hell, they’ve been there with me every step of the way during the last two years, since I started as our first-string QB my sophomore year. Winning the College Football Playoff National Championship is a dream for all of us; it’s everything I’ve busted my ass to accomplish, and not just in the three years I’ve been playing college ball. I also played in high school, and even before that when I sacrificed my summers, choosing football camp over lazy days at the pool, barbeques,and ice cream. It’s years of work and dedication, blood, sweat, and tears.

And it’s my ticket to the NFL?my future, and possibly theirs, too.

“Alright, come out with.” Chris gestures with his hands. “Tell Daddy Collins all about it, and I’ll give you some fatherly advice.”

“First of all”?I hold a finger up?“don’t fucking call yourself Daddy. Second”?I hold another finger up?“why in the hell do you think I would take advice from you?”

“Um, hello?” Chris motions around him. “I helped Jace catch Brynn.”

“This again.” Jace pinches the bridge of his nose, looking more like an exhausted parent, rather than a college sophomore. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“And,” Chris says, ignoring him, “I bagged one of the hottest chicks alive, even though she couldn’t stand my ass, so I’m basically a love expert now. A certified genius. Are we forgetting about the Love Playbook? Maybe you need to borrow it. I’d be willing to loan it to you for a fee.” He tilts his head as if thinking. “Well, on one condition, actually.”

“What? No. I don’t want the stupid Love Playbook.”

“Are you sure? Because the shit in there is solid gold.”

“I’m sure,” I grind out, tone sharp. “I don’t even want?” I stop and drag a hand over my face. “Just forget about the Love Playbook and focus for a minute, will you?”

“Brandon’s next.” Chris ignores me, and motions toward a frowning Brandon.

“Me?” Brandon points to himself, eyes wide, as if he’s afraid.

“Yeah, you,” Chris scoffs, and hooks a thumb at him. “Genius, this guy.”

Brandon scowls. “Why do I need your help? I told you. I don’t have a thing for?”

“Tatum,” Jace finishes for him. “Yeah, we know.” He rolls his eyes, and even I have to snicker because Brandon is so far in denial about his feelings for his best friend he might as well be swimming laps in Egypt.

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