Page 113 of Game On
“Touchy today?” He chuckles, falling into step beside me as we resume our pace. “I only ask because you two are attached at the hip lately. Gabi says she’s practically moved into your place.”
“She’s over a lot, yeah. Just easier that way.”
He smirks. “To practice your routine, right?”
“Exactly that.” We run in silence for a while, heading onto campus through the trails that run parallel to the intramural fields. “You know, I am sorry, man. About taking your spot. It really fucking sucks you got injured.”
He’s quiet for a while before shaking his head, sweat glistening on his brow. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you planned it or anything. Besides, you’ve stepped up and done a damn good job. Ella’s lucky to have you as a partner.”
“You’re a bigger man than I’d be in your situation.”
He pats me on the back as we pick up speed. “Yeah, Fox, no question I’m bigger.”
I snort. “You know, last term, when you were teasing me about Ella. You weren’t actually into her back then, were you?”
“Thought that was my secret to keep.”
“Well, circumstances change.”
“I guess they do.” He glances at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Maybe I was a little into her, but who wouldn’t be? She’s got that thing about her, y’know?”
“Yeah,” I say. She’s got everything.
We finish our run, breaking off at the same tree-lined street where we first met up, and I head back home alone. Levi’s pacing in our living room when I first walk in the door. He’s dressed in slacks and a blazer, hair styled in a way I’ve never seen before.
He has a pre-draft meeting with the Titans in a few hours, and he looks like he’s about to tear his own head off. A rare sight if I’ve ever seen one.
“Hudson!” he calls out when he sees me. “I need your help. Is this outfit okay?”
He spreads his arms wide, the blazer barely containing his bulk. It’s a good fit, but the nerves make him look uncomfortable.
“You look fine, Levi,” I say, still catching my breath. I drop my keys onto the coffee table and grab a water bottle from the kitchen.
“Fine?” he echoes. “I need to look fuckingperfect, immaculate, like I belong in the league already.”
“You’re overthinking it,” I say, twisting the cap open and taking a long, cooling sip. “You’ve got the skills, the stats—they’re already impressed with you. This is just a formality.”
He sighs heavily, adjusting his tie for the tenth time. “It’s not just the skills, man,” he mutters. “It’s the whole package. Presentation counts.”
I nod, realizing I’ve underestimated his anxiety. “Okay, let’s work on it, then,” I say, mimicking a coach’s stance as I approach.
He stiffens his spine, eyes wide. “Alright, Coach Fox, tell it to me straight.”
I walk around him, examining every detail like a drill sergeant. His shirt is crisp, the blazer fits well enough, but his tie—it’s all wrong. The knot is uneven, the length too short, and it’s slightly askew. I move closer, fingers deftly undoing and retying the knot, pulling it snug against his collar in a perfect Windsor.
“There,” I say, stepping back to admire my handiwork. “Now you look like a future Titan.”
He glances at himself in the mirror, finally allowing a small, relieved smile to break through. “Thanks, bud. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Definitely not get picked looking like that,” I tease, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, go knock ’em dead.”
He grins, the tension melting as he grabs his portfolio and heads out the door. As soon as it closes behind him, the house falls silent, and my own worries come flooding back. I sink into the couch, running a hand through my hair.
I should speak with Ella, sooner rather than later. Although perhaps it’s a conversation that can wait until after Daytona. Just a few more weeks until I burst our bubble.
It’s better that way, easier for us both to maintain our focus on the competition. After that, we can have a proper sit-down and figure things out. Maybe I can even come upwith a solution by then, something more than just a disappointing truth and a half-baked plan for my future.
But for now, that letter from Oxford will have to remain out of sight, out of mind.
