The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(47)

Tonight, another line on her list was getting checked off, one I wasn’t sure I was prepared for. I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, shaking my hands, trying to will the nerves away.

“Where are you going?” Coach called out from behind me.

“To change?” My hand wrapped around the door handle.

“We’ve got a press conference to get to.”

The plans I’d put in motion were finally ready. My stomach tightened and I wanted to fast-forward the next hour between now and when I’d knocked on her door. Tonight would change everything, but this was what I needed to do. I’d been fighting what was building between us for so long, and I couldn’t do it anymore.

I could do this for her, mainly because the thought of someone else being her first made me want to break something, but what happened after that? I shook my head; I’d worry about that later.

“Can you do this one without me?” My gaze darted toward the closing locker room door.

Coach looked at me like I’d asked if he’d punch me in the dick.

“After that catch? You’re out of your mind. Every opportunity in front of the press is another chance to help you get drafted and to help build up Fulton’s name. Get your ass in there.” He placed his hand firmly in the center of my back and gave me a small shove. Pushy old bastard. He was right, though. Taking my spot in front of the cameras to show that I wasn’t the fuckup everyone had tried to paint me as at the end of last season, to show that I could be a team player was an increase in my draft pick number.

Sitting in front of the reporters, my leg bounced up and down under the table. It was standing room only in the press conference. That was what happened when you were only a few games away from the national championship. Cameras lined the back wall. Reporters with press passes hanging around their necks held notepads or tablets in their hands. All eyes were focused on us up behind the table at the front dotted with microphones.

Nix looked over at me with his eyebrows drawn down. His gaze dropped to my hands on my thighs, squeezing them to give me patience to get through this thing. Nix had thrown the ball. I’d caught it. The end.

The last question was answered and I jumped up from my chair, nearly knocking it over. I stuck it back under the table and headed into the locker room, pulling off my shirt before I even got all the way inside. Grabbing a towel, I didn’t stop until I stepped under the warm spray of the shower, setting a new speed record for the quickest one known to man.

Back out at my locker, I tied up my sneakers and sat on the bench, waiting for Nix. Checking the time, I packed up everything else in my bag. Nix strolled out of the shower a couple minutes later.

“Why are you so happy?” Berk stared at Nix, his face a mask of suspicion.

The sharp snap of the towel flew in front of my face.

“We just won a game—isn’t that enough?”

“You always look the same, win or lose, like you’re paying off a debt or something being out there, but you’re all smiley lately.”

I didn’t have time for this; I’d figure out whatever the hell was going on with Nix later.

“What’s the big rush?” Berk stared at me with big mocking eyes.

I looked to Nix. “Is everything good to go?”

“Everything’s ready. Don’t worry about anything, and call me if you run into any issues.”

“What’s ready?” Berk’s gaze darted from me to Nix.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” I picked up my bag.

“Since when do we keep secrets?”

“Yeah, Reece. We saw the press conference—looks like someone’s eager to get out of here today. I wonder why.” LJ tapped his finger against his chin.

“Shut up.”

When I finally got to her building, I hoped the world’s slowest elevator would get me to her floor before it was time for me to collect Social Security. I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked back and forth on my heels. The doors finally opened and I rushed out.

Wiping my hands on my jeans, I took a deep breath. Lifting my hand to knock on her door, I came up short when it opened before I touched it.

A sour-faced Alexa walked out, nearly running into me. “She’s been playing for the past half-hour and it’s driving me crazy.”

Playing what? Was Seph a secret gamer? I could imagine her huddled up in her room with the controller trying to finish each round as perfectly as possible.

Alexa huffed, clearly wanting attention or sympathy. Like I’d care about anything that pissed her off. Before I could say a word, she spun around, flinging her hair into my face, and stormed for the elevator.

I stared after her. How in the hell had Seph put up with being her roommate this long? Stepping into the apartment, I closed the door behind me. The sounds I’d chalked up to someone playing classical music out in the hall weren’t coming from speakers after all. They were coming from Seph’s room.

Every time I thought I had a bead on her, she changed things up. Apparently she was a musician too. I swore she had more talent in her pinky than most people had in their whole body. How had I not known this about her? How had she not brought it up before?

The classical melody was equal parts familiar and totally new. The notes were beautiful, winding into a crescendo that gave me goose bumps. As I listened longer, I recognized it, the lyrics floating through my head. She took it and made it into something different. She owned it.