Page 45 of The Pass Protection
“Everything’s great.” I toss another smile and return to the bench, Dylan hot on my heels.
“You should’ve let me punch him.”
I shake my head as I sit on the bench. “Nah, he wasn’t worth it. I scored sixteen points on him. That’ll eat him up more than your fist.”
“You sure about that? I’d make sure to land a good one.” I chuckle,unlacing my shoes.
A shadow falls over it, and my first reaction is Crew. But as I land a brimming smile on the person above me, it quickly morphs into shock, and my smile slips slightly from my face.
“Grant?”
“Hey, little sis.”
“Little sis?” Kyrie pauses. “You mean to tell me we have one oftheCampbells on our team?”
“Shit, no wonder the girl can ball,” Dustin adds from beside me.
Grant crosses his arms over his chest as he eyes my teammate while I suppress an eye roll. “Yeah, which means y’all better behave.”
The guys all nod, and this time, I let my eyes roll. “Dad is waiting out in the hallway. We thought we’d treat you to dinner.”
Zipping my gym bag, I toss it on my shoulders as I fall in step beside my brother, who tosses his arm over my sweat-soaked shoulders. Grant’s body stiffens slightly. I follow his gaze and find Crew waiting, his back against the wall. “The hell you doing here, Riggsby?”
“Watching my roommate play ball.” His reply is quick and confident. He doesn’t give away that we are dating in the slightest.
Grant’s jaw tightens as he nods.
“We’re going to grab dinner with Dad. Do you want to join?”
Crew slips his hands in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Nah, that’s okay. I just wanted to swing by and catch the end of the game. See you back at the apartment.”
My attention latches on to Crew thumbing away on his phone, and insecurities creep in. Is he texting a girl? What if he finds a girl who doesn’t have the baggage like I do?
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I nod. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks for swinging by.”
With a terse nod, we walk away in opposite directions, and I’m left feeling guilty for hiding my relationship with Crew.
But it’s for the best.
At least, I hope.
“What’s up, Riggs?” JP sits at a table inside the private room of The Benjamin Liberty Library, where the football team has a weekly mandatory study session. The library was quieter than usual on a Wednesday evening, but that’s how I like it. The fewer people inside, the less attention it brings to the football team. Not all of the team members show up at the same time on the same day, most study times revolve around everyone’s schedules.
Pulling out a chair opposite him, I toss my backpack onto the table next to my cup of peanut butter and mocha iced coffee. I’m the type of person who shows up for class with an array of drinks stemming from some kind of caffeine, a bottle of water, and a protein shake of some sort. Tonight I’m going with only two options: coffee and a water bottle.
A few guys filter into the room, taking seats and pulling out textbooks. I followed suit and removed my agricultural finance textbook from my backpack along with my notebook and laptop. Tonight, I’ve got a hot date with a case study. As I start skimming over the notes from class, Harris drops down next to me with a huff.
“Tyler, you’re late,” the monitor overseeing our study tables says from where she sits in the back corner, her nose in a book.
Instead of replying, Harris let out a huff, which sounded more like a growl.
“Everything okay, man?” I ask, my voice barely audible so as not to get yelled at by the monitor.
Harris removes a stack of anatomy flashcards and a sports physiology book from his backpack and places them on the table, aggressively garnering the attention of the monitor. “Just a shitty quarterback’s practice followed by another shitty media day. I’m so tired of the bullshit questions about how I’m overrated according to fans online hiding behind their screens and if it was a fluke we won the championship last year. Like Jesus Christ, I’m doing the best I fucking can.”
Running my hand down my face, I let out a sigh. “Damn, man, that’s rough. You know you’re the best quarterback I’ve ever had? Bret was right when she told you that your football IQ and work ethic are unmatched.”
“Thanks, man. I’m just tired of the media vultures.”
