“Daniels!”
We’d walked into a restaurant/pub eatery that Tasmin recommended. It was close to the Cain University campus, and we were greeted with that yell as soon as we walked inside. I froze, for a second, until Zeke Allen came walking from a back section. He was wearing all Grant West clothes, and on the front the words embroidered read, “Cruz Styles’ #1 Fan.” He came over, saw I was reading his shirt and wiggled his eyebrows. “Nice, huh?” He gestured to the back with his thumb. “Get a load of this.” He turned around and the words embroidered there were, ‘Mara Daniels’ Boyfriend’s Fan Club, Charter Captain.’
“Oh, God.” I sank down into a squat right there and then. My butt rested on the back of my heels. My head in my hands.
“It’s awesome. How awesome is this? And get this, I wear this to all of Blaise’s soccer games.” He was laughing as he tugged on my elbow and pulled me back up. “Come in here.” His arms went around me in a big bear hug.
Greetings were happening around us as I stepped back, and saw Blaise was there, giving his sister a hug. Race was next, getting a half-side man-hug. Seeing me notice him, he gave me a slight chin-lift. “Hey, Daniels.”
Daniels.
I mirrored his chin-lift. “DeVroe.”
Zeke threw his arm around my shoulder, yanking me to his side. “I call dibs on Daniels’ friendship. You’re so low on that list now.”
Blaise scowled at him before rolling his eyes. “You’re a moron.”
“Sure am. After all the shit you do, I’m still your best friend.”
Tasmin and Race headed farther inside the restaurant, and Skylar, Zoe, and Miles moved in a different direction. They went over to where Grant West people were, including the rest of our roommates. And they weren’t alone. Seeing me, Kyle Ruiz stood up from their table, a wince flashing over his face before he made his way toward where I was standing.
“Hey, uh.” He raked his hand through his hair.
Before he could say anything, Zeke said, with a bite, “Who are you?”
Kyle frowned at him, lingering on Zeke’s arm still around my shoulders. “Uh, a friend of–”
“Really?” I cut in, raising an eyebrow.
He grimaced again. “Look, uh, I’m sorry–”
“For what?” from Zeke.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?”
“Someone who’d like to know why you’re apologizing to Daniels.”
Now Ruiz raised his own eyebrow. “I’m Grant West’s quarterback.”
Zeke shook his head. “That don’t mean shit to me.” He gestured to Blaise with a head nod. “This guy here has turned down soccer clubs from Europe to stay in college. He doesn’t go around giving his resume and social media followers before issuing apologies. You know who does that? Douchebags.”
I cursed, stiffening under Zeke’s arm.
He only tightened it around me, his chest puffing up.
Blaise started laughing. “I might start now.”
Zeke threw him a grin. “Do it. I’d pay money to see the next time you fuck up and go that route apologizing to–”
“Who are these guys?” Ruiz asked me, jerking a thumb in Zeke’s direction.
Zeke went back to scowling. “We’re her friends, and we know who you are. We know what you did too.” He lifted his other arm. “Are you not reading my shirt? I don’t just have Mara’s back, but I have Styles’s back. He makes my friend have great orgasms so I’m going to support him as long as he puts that dreamy little pep in Daniels’ step that I witnessed when she came in here, and pun totally meant because that’s the type of douchebag I am.”
Blaise groaned. “I’m out. I can’t get into any more fights today.”
Zeke called after him, “I’m going to let Styles know you deserted him in his time of need right now. Let’s hope he doesn’t hold grudges.” Zeke focused back on Ruiz, upping his scowl. “Let your apology commence. I’m her friend, if you need to know my qualifications. I’m also Charter Captain of her Boyfriend’s Fan Club.”
“Okay.” Kyle shook his head, raking his hand over his face. “I’m sorry for being a dumbass at the bar. I was a dick. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, Ruiz, but apologize to Cruz too.”
He nodded. “I know. Trust me. Eating humble pie here. He’s the big man this weekend.”
“You’re right.” Zeke jerked his thumb toward his own shirt. “That’s my boi!”
When we went in, Darren gave me a small wave. “I’m going to go sit with my roommates.”
Zeke rubbed at his chest. “I don’t like this. I don’t like being pulled in two different directions.”
“Says the guy who goes to Cain University and is wearing a Styles fan shirt.”
“That’s different. My love for Cruz Styles transcends university alumni donation stipends.”
I hid a smile because it really was nice to see Zeke. “We’re going to hang out this weekend.”
“Damn straight we are. My fraternity is having a party Saturday night. We know the coach is letting your hockey team head back on their own, so we’re hoping they’ll be our guests of honor.”
“I don’t want to know how you pulled that off.”
“A lot of blackmail.” He gave me two thumbs-up. “And threats. They go a long way here.”
I held my hands up, beginning to back away. Zeke was being Zeke. I just needed to go with it by now.
Going over and sinking down in the chair across from Darren, he gave me a tight smile before flipping his phone around and pointing to a screen. “You see this?”
Word’s out! Cruz Styles is officially off the market until his latest squeeze sleeps with someone else, and word on the street is that could be anyone at any second!
I jerked up. “What is this?”
Zoe said, “It’s a campus blog. She covers all the big athletes, but Cruz has been her main focus for the last month. You didn’t know?”
“I had no idea.”
“That’s why we were teasing you. This was posted this morning. We thought you were just being quiet about it.”
“How did this get out?”
Zoe shook her head. The rest of the table didn’t have an answer.
Darren pulled his phone back. “You okay?”
I held up a hand, shrugging, and leaning back in my seat. I’d lost my appetite, but… “I’ll be fine.” But fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. We were out in a big, huge way if a blogger was posting about it. And in a seriously insulting way too. “She’s implying I’m a slut.”
Darren frowned. “Click bait. I’m pretty sure she sells information.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You could give her twenty dollars, and she’ll share her source.”
“Are you serious?”
“We deal with her too. Cruz has been her target since hockey started, but she likes to write about football players as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, hunching over his plate. “I’m pretending it’s practice for when we get to the NFL.”
That blog stung. And I knew more attention was coming. It was inevitable now.
“Eat. We’ll plan retribution later.” Darren gestured behind me, right as the server came over.
Retribution. Too bad I couldn’t order that off the menu.
Kit: I got a weird DM about you. You never called me back so I’m not eager to wade into your stuff, but call me back. I’ll send you the SS. Could this be from your mom?
Kit: image sent.
I deleted it. I owed Kit a call, but my mom was getting to me through her. I didn’t need to see whatever it said to know what it was. My mom being my mom.
