Page 5 of Scoring the Player
Theo Radford, aka Teddy. My best friend, teammate, and roommate. He’s about the nicest guy I’ve ever known. Loyal and hardworking, an absolute beast on the field. He only has one flaw—he’s dating my sister. But I try not to think about it too much, keeps me from wanting to hit him.
Teddy lies back, and I help him unrack the bar, then spot him as he benches the heavy weight. The way he’s throwing up the iron today, he obviously didn’t drink as much as I did last night.
Only when he’s done and sits back up, does he ask, “What’s the evil ex-girlfriend up to now?”
A small chuckle escapes my lips. Not because the situation with Bethany is funny—it most definitely is not—but hearing Teddy talk smack about anyone is so out of character for him that it catches me off guard.
“She tried to corner me last night. She misses me, blah blah.”
“It’s been how long? Girl is persistent.”
It’s been six months since we broke up. The worst part is, she doesn’t even want me back. Not really. She wants to say she’s my girlfriend, but she doesn’t actually wantme. “It’s all bullshit. She’s hooking up with Armstrong. I walked in on them last night. In my damn bed.”
“Fuuuuck.” Teddy stands, and together, we adjust the weight on the barbell. “Seriously?”
I nod, and then take a seat on the bench. “She’s hell-bent on pissing me off.”
And she knows using my teammates is the easiest way to do that. I don’t know what I ever saw in her. No, that’s a lie. I saw what she wanted me to see—a gorgeous girl who told me I was awesome and wanted to hook up with me. It was only after my dumb ass fell in love with her that I realized she was full of shit.
“What did you do when you walked in on them?” my buddy asks.
“Nothing.” I wish I could say I was shocked, but nothing Bethany does surprises me at this point. “She wants to get a rise out of me. The worst thing I can do is let her know it’s working.”
“So instead, you got trashed and then slept in the freshman’s sex sheets?” He shudders.
“Definitely not. I slept on the couch.” I roll my neck to work out a kink. That lumpy couch is only slightly more comfortable than sleeping on the floor.
Laughter across the room catches our attention and we both glance in that direction in time to see Armstrong, all smiles, standing on top of a chair dancing to the music pumping through the workout room.
“He seems energetic.” Teddy’s jaw works back and forth.
I hum my annoyance. Carson Armstrong is a freshman. He’s a quarterback, just like me. Second-string, so he still has a lot to prove, but he’s a talented kid. Talented, but naïve. Bethany is going to eat him alive.
I make it through the rest of weightlifting without throwing up and my headache has lessened. I shower and get dressed for class, but before I head out to breakfast, I corner Carson in the locker room.
“Hey.” I step closer to give us some semblance of privacy. Even so, guys are glancing our way. Bethany made sure that everyone saw her hooking up with my backup last night, and they’re all waiting to see how I’m going to react.
“Walters,” he says in his thick southern accent. His green eyes flick to me and then quickly dart away. “Some party last night, huh?”
“Yeah, it sure was.”
He chances another look at me and I catch the hint of nervousness before he can mask it.
“What time’s your first class?” I ask him, leaning casually against the locker next to his.
“Uhh.” His brows furrow. He was expecting me to go off on him, and now he doesn’t know what I want. “Nine. Why?”
“Good. That’ll give you time to wash my bedding.”
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, but his lips twist into a smirk. “I’m sorry, man. She pulled me in there. I was drunk…”
“Bethany’s real convincing when she wants something,” I say. It’s the only hint of understanding I’ll give him. Whether it was her idea or not, he knew it was shitty to fuck on my bed. And he might be new, but he knows the history between Bethany and me. Everyone does.
I push off the locker. “I expect my sheets to be cleaned and bed remade by lunch. And if you fucking pull something like that again, with me or any of the guys on the team, you’ll wish you stayed in Alabama.”
I leave without waiting for a response. A good breakfast, and maybe a twenty-minute power nap between morning and afternoon classes, and I’ll be good as new by practice.
In the cafeteria, I grab a tray and get in line for food. It’s busy in here today. First week of classes and people are still getting up early enough to have breakfast, instead of waking up five minutes before class and downing a granola bar on the way. That isn’t an option I have with football, but I’ve noticed a routine over the years.
