Page 102 of Necessary Roughness
“Every goddamn year I’ve been here,” Knox growled. “All those losses will be worth it if we can win this year. The cherry on top of my final year.”
“That’d look good on your draft resume,” I said.
Knox leaned over and poked me in the chest. “You still have another year after this one. You’ll have a chance to start our own win streak after we’re gone.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Sloane sounded like a debate moderator. “Let’s focus on one game at a time, remember? Finish the regular season first.Thenworry about the conference championship. And then, afterthat, worry about repeating it next season.”
Knox put his arm around Sloane’s neck and gave her a sideways hug. “She’s not just a pretty face. She’s smart as hell.”
The party was already in full swing at this point, and our arrival only cranked things up a few notches. We guzzled beer and played drinking games. Knox and Logan danced to techno music on the back deck while three of our other teammates chanted, “KNOX MADDOX M-V-P! KNOX MADDOX M-V-P!”
We were drunk on victory as much as alcohol. For once, I let myself indulge until I had a pleasant buzz. I hadn’t had a lot of reasons to celebrate this season, but between the football game and Sloane, I now had several.
Lots of students talked about the perfect season. We tried to shush them, tried to tell them not to jinx it, but everyone was riding high. And since I had my own swagger back, I allowed myself to entertain the idea.
A perfect season. Zero losses.
It didn’t feel real.
Logan shared a look with me in between beer pong games. “What?” I asked.
“She’s our good luck charm,” Logan said, nodding towards Sloane over by the wall. She was playing rock-paper-scissors with Knox over something, laughing and accusing him of cheating.
“I don’t believe in luck,” I said. “I believe in harder work.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “You’ve struggled all season. Hey, bro, don’t glare at me like that. You know it. I know it. The janitor who cleans the locker room knows it. Then you sleep with Sloane, and suddenly have the best game of your career? Setting a school record in sacks for a single game? Tell me that’s a coincidence.”
“It’s a coincidence,” I said.
He rolled his eyes again, then patted me on the chest. “You can deny it out loud all you want, but I can see you thinking it. That girl’s special.”
I smiled at Sloane from across the room. “Now that I’ll agree with.”
Logan and I played another game of beer pong against two sophomore girls who made alotof innuendo about what we could do to them if we won. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on your perspective—we lost the game.
“I’m going to get another vodka and Red Bull,” I told Logan.
“Get me one!” he replied. “No. Wait. Just get me a beer. Brother, I’mdrunk.”
I chuckled as I walked away. It was probably time for me to do the same and switch to only beer.
On the way to the kitchen, I heard the sounds of an argument. I would’ve ignored it, except one of the voices was feminine. I didn’t consider myself a white knight, and I generally liked to stay out of other peoples’ business, but tonight I was feeling like a winner.
I followed the sounds down a hall. There was a small half-bathroom next to the door to the garage, and the argument was drifting through the cracked door.
“Troy,” the woman snapped, “I’m not doing this right now.”
My blood went cold, then red-hot. That was Sloane.
The door opened another inch, but then the man inside—Troy—slammed it shut. “Let me go!” she demanded. “Get out of my way!”
“Not until you—”
I never had a chance to hear what he wanted, because I threw my shoulder into the door, exploding the frame in a shower of splinters. Troy only had enough time to half turn toward me before I lashed out with my foot, kicking him in the gut and doubling him over.
“Roman!” Sloane exclaimed.
Sloane had these big, beautiful eyes, and right now they were filled with relief at my entrance.
