Game day.
My senses went into overdrive on game days. The air smelled thicker, like bonfires and homecoming and turf and sweat and locker rooms. The wind came through my window, providing a brief moment of peace before I started my routine. Game days weren’t to be fucked with. It was my golden rule. I stretched my arms over my head, moving right to left, then left to right.
After I stretched, I’d eat and shower. No classes on Fridays except some online course that I could catch up on this weekend. Game days were for getting in the right headspace. The day I couldn’t have a single distraction.
Knock, knock.
Who would be at my door? I bolted up, damn well knowing Callum wouldn’t knock, he’d yell instead. That meant… Lorelei. It was eight. Too early for people to knock on another’s door, but what if she needed something? I ran a hand over my face before twisting the handle open.
“Hi, good morning, look, I have an idea.” She walked right on by me, smelling like springtime. My just-awake brain couldn’t move beyond her outfit. She wore tight running pants and a half-shirt thing. It was black with some cutouts that showed skin, and was there a glint of sweat on her neck? Her curls escaped around her ears and the base of her head and shit. She’d definitely said something.
She stared up at me with wide eyes and joy. Okay, she was happy about something. It couldn’t have been me because I turned into a jerk around her. My skin heated in embarrassment, and I cleared my throat. “Today is game day, so my mind was elsewhere. Could you repeat that?”
“I want my marketing project to be about what you told me.” She held a pad of paper against her chest, a bright orange pen hanging from the spiral. I finally dragged my gaze from her body to her mouth, and her full lips curved up on the sides. I had the strongest urge to rub the tip of my thumb against her bottom one, just to see how soft it was.
Focus. Marketing project. “What part, exactly?”
“How the public doesn’t care about nursing homes. You’re so right! They don’t have the cute photos or social media that animal shelters do. Some have a Facebook page, and that’s about it, but that’s old now. Like, my grandma has one, but she’s not gonna donate unless she’s going there, you know? I want to focus on this facility and do a marketing plan as a way to help them spread the word.”
“Wait.” My mind raced. It was tunnel vision most of the time, either on football or working out or a quick release with a willing female. But then she walked in, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her skin and the gleam of moisture I wanted to lick up. She was talking about my grandma, assisting her, the facility. Hope shotgunned through my body, the same exhilarating feeling I got when I ran through the tunnel and onto the field. “You’ll help?”
“Yes. Luca, yes. See, I’d been struggling with what to pick as my final project. My professor is big on real world, not jumping-through-the-hoops types of assignments, and I wanted to focus on soccer at first, but since I’m on the team, it was a no-go. This is perfect, right? I can put all my attention on it, build out a plan for them, and track the data and results.” She scrunched her nose and batted her eyelashes. “Please? Can I do this?”
I wanted to fucking kiss her, and I didn’t trust my voice. Instead of speaking the absolute firework of joy exploding through my head, I nodded.
“Yes!” She fisted the air and wiggled around in a circle. “This feels good. Better than good. Plus, it’ll help you and your grandma out. Do you think she’d be okay being on camera? I’d love to focus on a handful of residents and tell their story.”
I shrugged, working my jaw back and forth to do something with the adrenaline. Why hadn’t I thought of something like this? I could’ve posted or gotten social media… instead, I blamed it as a distraction and refused to get a single profile.
Her smile faltered. “I won’t do anything without your permission, I promise. You have my freaking word. I would… no, I’ll even type a contract? Maybe get it notarized? Okay, I have no idea how to do that, but I’ll do whatever you need.”
“I want to get it notarized,” I teased, my lips curving up.
She sighed, closing her eyes and nodding. “Alright, I will look it up and have something done… today. Well, you’re busy all day. Tomorrow? No, they are closed. I can—”
“Lo, it’s fine.” Shit. I called her Lo. “Lorelei, I was teasing you. I love this idea. I can’t believe I never thought of it.”
“Well, champ.” She hit my shoulder softly with her free hand. “You’ve been a little busy bulking up and taking care of her. This is my jam. Social media, marketing, and soccer are my three pillars of life. I think this will be fantastic and fun! Totally out of my element. Plus! Oh!” She jumped in the air. “What if I… yes! Let me write this down.”
She sat on my bed, pulling the paper up to her chest where she took the cap of her pen off with her teeth. She clicked her tongue against the little orange piece as she scribbled on the paper. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect picture—her sitting there, next to my pillow, her scent filling up my room as the sunlight hit her skin.
My body tightened with need. What if—
“Game day, brooooo!” Callum walked into the room, hitting the top of the door frame. “Oh, shit. Lolo, you sleeping with this guy?”
The thoughts of her spread on my pillow assaulted my mind, the absolute ravaging need to touch her making me fist my hands. She’s Dean’s sister.
“What? No. Never,” I barked out a little too loudly. My tongue swelled, and moisture dripped down my back. Callum couldn’t possibly know my deepest, darkest fantasies about her. He’d kill me. So would Dean. “She barged in here on her own. I didn’t ask her to.”
“Message received, Monroe,” she said, her tone slightly colder than what it had been before. She stood, her cheeks bright red, and she gave us a tight smile. “I’ll work on this plan, and we can chat Monday.”
She ducked her head and walked by me, avoiding my gaze and making me feel two inches tall. I’d offended her. Idiot.
“You heading to the breakfast?” Callum plopped on my desk chair and had his phone in his hands.
“Right. The team.” I pulled the ends of my hair, staring at Lorelei’s door. Her blush and quick departure had been because of my mouth. A rock formed in my gut, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Not until tomorrow, maybe, but usually Saturdays were for post-game. I couldn’t afford to let her sneak in there, especially after how much she’d been appearing in my thoughts lately.
“Wanna leave?”
“Sure, yeah.” I forced myself to let Lorelei go for now. Football would always and forever come first, and even though I rarely upset women, I seemed to offend her the most. It wasn’t her fault either, and that didn’t sit right with me. If my grandma had any idea, she’d smack me in the head.
Lorelei wants to help me.
The ball of anxiety in my stomach lingered, even as Callum and I headed to a team breakfast. It put me on edge. Callum didn’t mention her at all, and I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but it made me think even more about the look on her face. Like, my words had upset her?
Why would she be upset? Unless she wanted me to be into her? No?
Fuck. Focus, Monroe.
We arrived at the stadium about an hour after the other players. All one hundred and five guys dressed, but the starters arrived later. I loved how the younger players looked at us as we walked in, the hunger in their eyes to be where we were at. The equipment mangers washed and placed everything we needed in our locker, and seeing the photo of my grandma grounded me.
I played for her.
Lorelei wants to help her.
“The vibe is good tonight. You ready, Romano?” one of the other juniors asked Dean.
Hearing his name reminded me yet again, I had no business thinking about his sister so damn much. I put my jersey over my pads in the same order I always did. Then, I made sure I had socks and gloves.
We broke out into position groups to do our own warm-ups. Then, we headed back into the locker room to finish gearing up. My favorite though was when we went out onto the field to do our team warm-up. The music pounded throughout the stadium, the lights shining down on us. Cheerleaders chanted, and the band got ready, and this was the best feeling in the world.
Football would always come first, I knew that. But I didn’t have to leave behind a trail of asshole behavior. I’d play my heart out, then fix the situation with Lorelei because despite zoning in on the game, her offer to help my grandma kept returning.
“Let’s go!”
Oliver and Callum hollered as we left the stadium. Everyone’s spirits were high. We’d kicked another big ten school’s ass, and it felt fucking good. We won by fourteen points, and with every win came the reward.
I stopped worrying about my grandma and routine and plans and let myself go wild only on games we won. That meant tonight? I could drink, fuck, and pass out.
“The houses on Lincoln are where the parties are at. These girls sent the address. Wanna head there?” Oliver asked. “The other guys are starting two houses down, then we can meet up.”
“I’m in.” Dean shrugged, his attention on a group of girls standing off to the side. “Hold on a minute. Your QB needs to show his fans some love.”
“Fuck off, man.” Callum groaned. “I hate when he talks about himself in the third person.”
“All QBs need an ego though,” Oliver said. “It’s a fact. They need something to protect their head when they get sacked.”
“I heard that.” Dean flipped us off before spinning around and approaching the girls.
“Wasn’t trying to be sneaky.”
I laughed, my mood fantastic. I’d played great. Best stats I had in a while, and my grandma texted me that everyone at the facility had watched it. Plus, now that the game was over, I could find Lorelei and thank her before going wild. “I’m gonna run to the house real quick—”
“Is that Lorelei?” Callum asked, his gaze narrowing across the street. “Is she talking with guys from Indiana? That is… hell no. Dean? Get your sister right now.”
Dean snarled, changing direction to beeline toward his sister.
The streetlights illuminated her hair and face, and my heart stuttered. She wore short cutoff black shorts, an orange long sleeved shirt, and Chucks. Her hair was down and curly and everywhere, and some guy in a red and white T-shirt had his arm around her.
Something dark and green and gross slid through me. I hated him. He was an Indiana fan and touching her? Dean should be furious! He should fight him!
“Lo!” Dean cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “What the fuck are you doing?”
She was mid-laugh when she found us, and her smile grew. “Hey, great game!”
“What trash is this?” Dean snarled.
“Yeah, why are you consorting with an animal like an Indiana fan?” Callum asked, crossing his arms and trying to look tough.
The guy’s eyes widened, and he blinked, then dropped his arm and stepped back. “I’m out. I’ll catch y’all later.”
“Bye,” Lorelei said, then looped her arm with a pretty blonde girl I’d seen around a few times. “You guys suck.”
“Why? Because I’m stepping in and protecting you from our enemy?” Dean asked. “You cannot be with a guy from Indiana.”
“I forbid it,” Callum said, his eyes going crazy.
Dean snorted, putting a hand on Callum’s shoulder. “No football guys. Ever. Even Cally agrees.’
Lorelei rolled her eyes, and the blonde snickered. “You cockblocked me,” she said.
“What?” I barked before I could stop myself. Cockblocked, as in she wanted his dick. My blood boiled. “Is this about your ex?”
She sighed, resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “No, it’s not about him, and I’m messing with you guys. I played on a travel team with his sister, and we met up to watch the game. Y’all need to chill.”
“Unacceptable. Dean wouldn’t allow this,” Callum said.
Lorelei glared at him before arching one brow at her brother. “Dean can try and stop me.”
“I can’t believe you live with these animals,” the blonde said, her eyes bouncing from each of us for a few seconds. “My couch is open if you can survive the crooked springs.”
“They’re… fine. I ignore them when they annoy me.” She shrugged. “Anyway, you guys go party your faces off. You played great.” She held out a hand and fist-bumped Oliver, Callum, Dean, then held hers up for me to do the same. I swore her expression shifted when she got to me, and the ball of unease from earlier grew.
I gently touched my knuckles against hers before saying, “Hey, could I—”
Fans swarmed us. Girls and alumni and guys dressed in jerseys and hoodies walked around the corner and screamed. Their catcalls and cheers were met with an echo of celebrations as the night’s victory hung in the air. The infectious energy from the game usually carried on through the rest of the night. We never had to pay for drinks, and fans would take pictures, hugs, and the women wanted to hook up. Our coach trained us to always remember we were the face of the team. That meant showing respect and thanking them for support.
Despite being introverted, I could turn it on when I had to because it was about meeting my goal—getting drafted and earning a high payout. Because money motivated me, I could play the game.
“Luca, oh my god I love you!” A girl clapped her hands, and soon enough four more were around me. Callum and Oliver posed for photos, and Dean, well, he was living the life.
“Lo,” I said, disliking how she’d backed away from me. I searched for her hair, but ten fans turned to more and then a small crowd formed. I hated missing my chance, but it was my night to go wild, and I’d just search for her later.
It’d be great to let loose and find a way to relieve this sexual tension I had toward her because I couldn’t do that to Dean. Not ever. Lorelei would never be more than a dream, and even if she was more… she was a lifer. All I could offer was a one-Friday-night stand.
