Page 12 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
Wyatt was my first true friend when I transferred to Mississippi State, but we didn’t start out that way. Like most of the guys there, he was recruited out of high school. I, on the other hand, went the junior college route first, since I didn’t start playing football until my sophomore year of high school and didn’t have the best grades.
We were both on offense—he’s on the line, and me being a tight end, I’m in enough of their plays that we got to know each other pretty well.
Unfortunately, my old habits came back the second I stepped foot in Starkville. Instead of hanging out with Wyatt and the players who kept their noses clean, I started cozying up to the guys who thought they were untouchable. The ones who smoked weed behind the scenes and paid for tests to keep their grades up. I know the saying is that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome, and that’s probably what I was—insane for hanging out with guys who were exactly like the ones I grew up with and expecting that I wasn’t going to get in trouble.
And I did. Busted cheating on a test. And it wasn’t even a hard one. Your basic economics class. But of course I was given the easy way out, so I had to take it. I was put on academic probation and suspended a few games. I felt like I had blown mychance at having a solid college career and maybe making it to the pros.
That’s until Wyatt stepped in. He invited me to study with him and some of the other linemen that night. Before I knew it, we got into a routine where it was morning lifts and night-time study sessions. Hell, we ended up moving in together during our last season. He’s the one who kept me out of trouble. The one who kept an eye on me and made sure I didn’t make any bone-headed moves.
Until the big screwup. But neither Wyatt, nor God himself, could’ve stopped me that day.
Needless to say, I owe this man more than I’ll ever be able to repay him.
But not enough to go to karaoke tonight.
“Can’t a guy just want to hang out with his best friend?”
I raise an eyebrow to that. “He can. But in the entire time I’ve known you, Wyatt Atkins, hanging out has been you sitting on this couch with me and grabbing a beer. Not going to a loud bar and hearing bad singing amplified by a microphone.”
“Come on, Linc. I need a wing man.”
Now I know he’s serving me a line of bullshit. If there’s one thing that man doesn’t need, it’s a wing man. He’s not a manwhore or anything, but if he sets his sights on a woman, whether it’s for a night or for longer, he has no problems approaching her and taking matters into his own hands. So, if he’s forcing me to go out, there has to be another reason behind it.
“Bullshit. Try again.”
Wyatt lets out a sigh like he really thought that was going to work. “Okay, fine. I lost a bet to Maddox, and I have to sing an embarrassing song of his choice.”
I spit out a laugh. “And how does this involve me?”
“Because you’re my duet partner.”
I look around the room to see if anyone else has suddenly entered. “Me? Since the fuck when?”
“Since always.”
“We’ve literally never sang karaoke together before.”
“Yes, we have.”
“In the locker room or in your truck doesn’t count.” Wyatt starts to say something, but I cut him off with a raised finger. “And neither does us being drunk at a house party.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrow. “Come on. If I have to sing fucking “Islands in the Stream,” I need a duet partner. I need my best friend. Come on, Linc…I’ll owe you.”
Shit, this is serious. Wyatt doesn’t throw out potential IOUs often. He doesn’t like feeling indebted, whether that’s something silly like a karaoke night or something to the extent of borrowing money. If he throws that out, he means business.
“Really? This is worthy of a coveted Wyatt Atkins marker?”
He nods. “If I don’t do this, I have to let Maddox and the rest of the defensive backs use my cabin during the bye week.”
“Oh, shit,” I say. Wyatt’s cabin is sacred. No one’s been there, not even me. “Yeah, I get why karaoke wins.”
“Which is why I need you,” he says. “I know why you want to stay in. This seems safe. Believe me, I get it. But you can’t hide. Plus, I’ll be there. So will Maddox and the rest of your teammates. We’ll make sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that nothing will happen that will even remotely make people think you’re trying to get into a fight.”
I feel my walls starting to crack and slump back on the couch. “I hate that I trust you.”
A slow smile forms on his face. “No, you don’t.”
I don’t, but I do need to make one thing abundantly clear before I actually commit. “I’ll go. I’ll sing. But this needs to be a low-key night. Katie just put out the fire with that picture. I can’t be starting shit all over again.”
