The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(16)

“Hi, Seph.”

“You remember me?” Her voice shot up high.

“It’s not very often you find out you’re part of a sex tryout like something from the next season of The Bachelorette.”

“The what?”

“It’s a TV show. Forget about it. So, you’ve met your goal already?”

She cleared her throat. I could picture her tugging at the hem of her shirt. “No, and it’s something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have some time today?”

The relief I felt at her response blindsided me. “I have practice at ten, but I can meet you at noon.”

“You have practice on a Saturday?”

“We have practice or training every day we aren’t playing.”

“Wow, that’s real dedication. Noon works for me. I found this awesome place—we could meet there.” She rattled off the address of one of the campus staples everyone had been to at least once, like it was a hidden gem she’d slashed through overgrown vines with a machete to find.

“Yeah, I know The Vault. I’ll see you there.”

Berk rolled off the couch, hit the floor in the living room, and threw a pillow at my head. I ducked the cushion and regretted the quick movement.

“Shut up.” It was a half zombie, half hungover groan.

“Am I talking too loudly for you?” I took the pain at raising my voice. It was worth it for his cringe. I threw the pillow back and it bounced off his head. He groaned again, grabbed it, and shoved it under his head on the floor. He would definitely be puking at practice.

I slowly went back upstairs and lay back in my bed with a giant bottle of water. I set an alarm to wake me up in a few hours. Hopefully by then I’d have slept most of this off, or Berk wouldn’t be the only one barfing on the field.





*



Death—that was pretty much the only way I could describe it. I was dying, if I was lucky. The sweats weren’t just from the drills Coach had had us do when half the team had dragged themselves onto the field five minutes late for practice. The strategically placed trashcans on the sidelines had been lifesavers; otherwise the landscaping crew would have castrated us for puking on the manicured grass.

I grabbed the front of my pads and tugged them over my head.

“Remind me to never do that again.” Berk’s shade of green wasn’t as bad as it’d been when he’d first stumbled onto the field, but it still wasn’t great.

“I wasn’t the one trying to celebrate our win with a shot for every point. I was perfectly fine with a few beers and some music—you’re the one who pulled out the shots.”

Nix plopped down beside me. He hadn’t drank much, but he still looked like shit. His throwing had been less than stellar, though still miles ahead of anyone else on the team. He was a natural, but at that moment he might as well have been roadkill.

“How you feeling?” I squirted water into my mouth.

He dragged his hands down his face, stretching it out and massaging his cheeks with his fingers. “Did I miss the toll for the one-way trip into the underworld?”

“How much did you have last night?”

He shook his head. “It’s not even that. My dad cornered me after the press conference after the game.”

I sucked in a sharp breath between my teeth. “You should’ve told me. I’d have staged a kidnapping or something.”

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have helped. He’s an unstoppable force. He’s headed over to London at the end of the month for the game Philly and San Francisco are playing over there.”

Nix’s dad had retired from the NFL ten years ago and now did sports commentary.

I pushed open the locker room door. “At least he’ll be off your back for a bit.” The quiet shuffle of feet, distant spray of the showers, and groaning met us the second we stepped inside.

“He’ll find a way to get on my case no matter what.” He dropped his pads and grabbed a towel.

“Did you hear about that girl who put up the ad?” Berk ran a towel over his drenched head and dropped it into his locker.

My blood turned to ice, the sweat rolling down my back freezing in seconds. “What ad?”

“Some girl put up a prank ad trying to get laid.” He grabbed his clothes from his locker.

“Seriously?” LJ dropped down onto the bench beside him.

“Yeah, apparently it was some psych student trying to do a case study or something. Some guys said they showed up and it was a chick with notecards and stuff. Probably trying to find out who the hell would be desperate enough to answer something like that.” He headed into the shower.

If that was what everyone thought had happened, that was the best-case scenario. That meant if she tried again, guys would probably just ignore it. Why did I care about this so much? Why had trying to keep her from making this mistake been drumming at the back of my head since I slid out of that booth while she stared up at me with her big, caramel eyes?

I hopped into the shower, feeling less like I’d been run over when I got out.

With my gear stashed in my car, I walked the few blocks to meet Seph. I’d managed to keep my mind off her since our call. It wasn’t too difficult when I had been fully focused on not puking for the last few hours.