Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(79)

With Aiden occupied with Ivy these days, I don’t have anyone to help me straighten the guys out. If I had to do a search and rescue, I’d need to either peel our tight end away from his girl or our running back away from his.

And I hate that I can’t ignore the pit of jealousy that pokes at my gut whenever I see couples pair off. Getting into something serious had never been my endgame when I officially signed on to be a Red Dragon. I thought I’d come here, play football, have some casual flings, and get my degree. But two years into playing the game—the one on and off the field—I got tired. Physically and mentally. My shoulder started acting up, and I knew playing football would never work long term. And casual hookups stopped appealing to me a long time ago, so I stopped participating in the lifestyle past a few drunken make out sessions and heavy petting when loneliness took over.

A hand whacks into my chest, making me grumble and rub the tight pectorals under attack from the captain of our team. “You even paying attention, fucker?”

“Knock it off. That hurt.”

“You can take it,” Brady says. His smirk fades when he sees me wince as I roll my shoulders and twist my back to get my spine to crack. “Shit, you good?”

I wave it off. “Just sore from our last practice. No big.”

“You know, Caleb said—”

“Caleb is a gossip,” I cut him off, knowing what our running back has been blabbering to people. He’s worried about me. He thinks I’m downplaying the pain.

Am I? Sure. But it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. A few pain relievers later, and the pain is dull at best. Tolerable. When they stop working, I text Skylar. Which usually leads to cuddles, a heavy make out session, and a little groping. Best distraction ever.

That makes Brady snort. “That’s fucking hilarious coming from you, but I’ll drop it. You got plans this week?”

I stand from the couch, ignoring the game we’re in the middle of playing. My guy already got taken out, so no sense in me sticking around to get my ass whipped a second time. “Yeah, actually. You finally going to kick back or are you burying your head in the books again?”

He grumbles something under his breath before pausing the game and setting the controller down on the coffee table. “I got early admission into two of the med schools I applied for, but they’re not the ones I want to go to.”

My brows shoot up. “Shit man, that’s awesome. Which colleges?”

“Albany Med and Upstate Medical University,” he says, although he doesn’t sound exactly pleased.

“Isn’t Upstate where you were considering?” He’d talked about it a few times in the past as if they were serious options.

He lifts a shoulder. “Things change.”

That’s a bullshit answer if I ever heard one. “Which ones are you still waiting to hear from?”

His eyes go to the TV screen. “Columbia, Cornell, and New York Medical.”

My nose twitches. “Ivy league, huh?”

His eyes snap to me. “Got a problem with it?” When I lift my hands in surrender, he blows out a frustrated breath and drops his head back. “I’ve been a bit testy waiting to hear back.”

“It’s all good. I didn’t know you wanted to go big league, that’s all. Never heard you talk about it before.”

“Because I knew I couldn’t afford it.”

“And that’s…changed.” It’s not a question based on the way he scrubs his jaw.

“I found out that my gramps put money aside for me for med school when he found out I wanted to follow in his footsteps. It’s enough to cover most of the expenses. Not all. I’d get by comfortably without too much debt.”

“That’s awesome, dude.”

“It isn’t if I don’t get in.”

“You will.” How the fuck could he not? Despite his insane sport schedule, he kept up with his grades and stayed top of his class. If that doesn’t prove his worthiness, nothing can. “Try not to stress about it. When are you starting physical therapy? That’ll definitely distract you.”

He makes a face at his knee. “Next week. Supposed to start before the holidays. Coach brought in the big guns.”

“He’s sending you to Monroe?”

“Yep.”

“He’s good.”

Only a grunt greets me, so I decide to leave it be. Letting him stew for a while, I grab my jacket and wallet and poke my head back in the living room where our captain is sulking.

“I’m heading out for a while. Need anything before I get back?”

He chuckles. “If you come back.”

If I had something to throw at him, I would. “Shut it, cap.”

He drapes an arm over the back of the couch and shrugs. “All I’m saying is that you might as well make it official with her. We all know you want to.”

I scratch my neck.

That doesn’t mean Skylar wants the same thing from me. She’s a freshman who’s dealt with more than anyone should have. I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to keep me at a distance without putting labels on us.

Doesn’t mean I like it.



Her room is fucking freezing, so I’m not surprised when she answers with a blanket wrapped around her. “What the fuck, Blondie? Maintenance never came?”