I’d never been so unfocused in my entire life.
Fall was always a blur for me — a whirlwind of early morning weightlifting and practices that dripped from the morning into the early afternoon. When I wasn’t in class, I was practicing or training or watching film. And every weekend, I led my team onto the field for a game.
Football consumed me from the moment I opened my eyes each morning until the very second my head hit the pillow each night. And even then, I dreamed about football, about passing routes and the feeling of turf under my cleats and jogging through the tunnel on a perfect, gray, cool day.
But this season?
I was consumed by Julep Lee.
She’d been distracting before. I’d loved any opportunity to get under her skin, to push her buttons, to tease her and see if I could earn myself a blush or an eyeroll or a snarky shot back at me.
Now, she wasn’t just distracting. She was the center of my focus.
It was impossible to keep my hands off her once we’d made our little agreement, and any time I was alone, I was texting her.
Come over.
I’d sneak her through the back door, wait until my roommates were in their rooms so I could pull her back to mine. It would usually be morning by the time I let her go, let her peel herself out of my bed and leave me with nothing but a kiss to remember her by before she was gone.
And just when I thought I’d go insane if I didn’t see her, I’d get the same text from her.
Mary just left for work.
Wherever we could sneak off to make it happen, we did — and though my career was still important to me, for the first time in my life, it wasn’t everything.
That fact scared me more than I would ever let on.
Still, even with my focus off the field, I was performing on the field, too. I led us to a win in my first game back. It was a home game, which made it sweet, but the fact that we absolutely murdered them made it even sweeter.
Coach Lee still watched me carefully, like he wasn’t sure he trusted me even after I proved myself time and time again. I followed his orders… albeit I did make some tiny amendments from time to time. But every change I made was for the greater good of the team, and it showed as we all gelled together better than we had all season.
We were on our way to the championship; I could feel it.
The draft did weigh heavy on me, though. Scouts didn’t watch me as eagerly as before my injury. No doubt, they were worried it was one that would continue to flare up as I aged. It didn’t matter that my shoulder had torn in a different place than before, or that it had been a minuscule tear that I quickly worked through.
Injuries were like termites in their mind — they never went away, and they would wear down the foundation of even the strongest house over time.
It was maddening, to have something so out of my control dictating their thoughts about me, to have my own body breaking down on me when I felt so mentally strong and capable.
Those thoughts plagued me one night when Julep was in my bed, both of us sated and spent. She had her head on my chest, and I drew circles idly along her bare back. Most times, when we were done, we were in a hurry — she’d sneak off or I would before anyone could see us.
But my favorite times were the ones like this, when there was no real rush to move, when I could hold her for a brief moment in time and pretend she was really mine.
“You ready for the game this weekend?” she asked softly.
“Born ready.”
She smiled against my chest. “I’m impressed by how you’ve bounced back from this injury. You seem… I don’t know, maybe even stronger than before.”
“I hope the scouts see it that way.”
She leaned up, balancing her chin on my chest. “You’re worried they won’t?”
“I’m just realistic,” I told her. “I had a shot at the first round before this. But now, I’ll be lucky to be taken by the fifth.”
“Does it matter when you’re drafted?”
I considered. “I guess, not really. Plenty of late-round picks have gone on to be successful in pro ball. But…”
“But your ego is going to take a beating,” she teased me, poking my rib.
I rolled swiftly, pinning her into the sheets and tickling her as she laughed and pathetically attempted to push me off. Eventually, I stopped tickling, and she opened her legs, letting me settle between them.
“It’s just been a dream of mine,” I said. “But dreams change.”
“Mm,” she said, making a face like she knew that all too well. “That they do. And what’s your dream now?”
“Oh, it hasn’t changed that much,” I said, smirking. “I still plan on making millions of dollars and playing pro ball for life.”
“Is that all?” Julep teased. I loved how she looked in that moment, her dark hair splayed over my pillowcase, eyes tired from all the nights I’d kept her up late.
“Well, then there’s the wife and kids, of course. You, walking down the aisle to me in a long, silky white dress…”
She snorted, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck in the back of her head. Again, she pathetically pushed at my chest. “Right. Us. Married.”
“Come on, you can’t see it?” I ignored the ache in my chest at how quickly she shrugged that off, reminding myself that I knew it was impossible, too. I was just joking. It was all fun and games.
“No, because if you so much as thought about proposing to me, my father would murder you.”
“Let’s pretend for a second that he wouldn’t.”
She gave me a look like that wasn’t something she was capable of.
“I can see you now, a veil flowing behind you, beautiful blushing bride…”
“Ew.”
I laughed at her immediate reaction.
“First of all, no veil. Ever,” she said, holding up a finger. I just smiled pulled that finger to my mouth, kissing it as she continued. “And I’ll wear a black dress, not a white one.”
“Scandalous.”
“Yeah, well, I’m no innocent virgin,” she said, something dark washing over her face before she shook it off. “And I don’t want kids.”
“Come on,” I begged, grinding my hips against her. She bit her lip when I ran the length of me slow and teasingly up her center. “We’d make really cute ones, I bet. And we’re really good at the things it takes to make babies.”
Julep’s eyes were heated when she wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me, long and deep. “We can’t make a baby if I keep swallowing your cum.”
I groaned at how dirty it sounded coming off those beautiful lips of hers, and my cock hardened between us, already fired up and ready to go again.
“That can easily be rectified,” I said, nipping at her bottom lip.
“No babies until after we’re married.”
I laughed. “Wow, I’ve made great progress.”
“Two. Max.”
I kissed along her jaw. “I really like when I get my way with you.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“I can see us now, me playing pro ball, you—”
“Excelling in my own career,” she finished for me with a pointed look.
“I was going to say that!” I defended. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”
She gave me a look like yeah, right.
“And when the kids are grown, and my old ass is retired, we’ll have a house in the mountains.”
“Aw, man,” she said, pouting. “I was really looking forward to causing trouble in a nursing home.”
“We’ll do that, too. Later.”
I chuckled, and she smiled, and even though it was all a joke, something like hope hollowed out my chest.
I watched her for a while, fingertips playing with her hair on my pillow as my eyes trailed over the worry lines on her face.
“And I get to die first,” she said after a while, softly. “That’s non-negotiable.”
I swallowed, frowning at the change in tone. “Why?”
Julep’s eyes flicked between mine, her answer hanging on the tip of her tongue but not daring to taste the air between us. She kept her mouth shut, but I saw what she couldn’t say.
She didn’t want to feel the pain of losing someone she loved again.
For a moment, for that brief, late-night, dream-like moment where time didn’t exist and anything was possible, I could actually see it. I could picture it all perfectly, the life where we worked out.
But my stomach bottomed out in the next breath as reality crashed in and reminded me it never could.
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” Julep whispered, and the way she looked, I felt the need to apologize.
Before I could, she kissed me, dragging her nails up into my hair and then raking them down my back.
We didn’t speak another word after that.
Julep
My sister’s birthday was something I always felt creeping in long before the day actually came.
Every year after she died, I found myself drinking more when November rolled around. I’d reach for any drug I could find, avoid all responsibilities, and spend my time with pathetic losers who were mediocre, at best, in bed.
Anything that could numb the pain.
But the truth was that nothing had been able to, no matter what I tried. There was no drug that existed, no sex good enough. Days bled into nights that led me closer and closer to a date I’d never escape, one that reminded me what had been lost.
Of what I’d done.
I could never outrun the emotions, never escape the pain of losing her. I’d drill myself with excruciating questions like: Where would she be now, if she were alive? Would she be in college? Would she be traveling Europe with only a backpack and a notebook? Would she be in love?
They’d pelt me even harder when I attempted to go out or have fun. I’d be at a concert and feel guilty that she would never have the chance. Even shopping in the grocery store would bring me to my knees sometimes, the realization that Abby couldn’t be there doing the same.
Anxiety would spiral me deep, until I was in that bizarre state of awakening that you sometimes fall into when you realize that you’re really going to die one day. Only this wasn’t about me. It was about Abby, about how I’d never see her graduate high school, or college, or grad school. It was how I’d never know if she would have been married and had kids or if she would have lived a life of adventure.
I’d robbed her of it.
And her birthday served as a reminder every fall.
I could feel the weight of my dad’s eyes on me more than ever. Even as Holden played in his first two games since his injury and led us to back-to-back blowout wins at our home stadium, my dad only barely smiled before he was watching me, wondering if I was two seconds away from going off the rails.
I wish I knew the answer.
I still felt it there, that familiar, looming depression, but it was muddied, fainter than usual.
And I knew it was because of Holden.
I didn’t have time to think about Abby or anything else, not when all my thoughts were consumed with planning the next time I could sneak into his bed or him into mine.
It’d been two weeks now since the first time we gave in at the hotel, and I was deliciously sore from fucking every chance we’d had since then. In my bed when Mary was at work, in his shower late at night, in my car parked down a dark alley, against the back wall of the stadium when we couldn’t bear even an hour of being around each other without touching…
It didn’t matter how many times, how many places, or how many ways he took me.
I was insatiable when it came to Holden Moore.
I couldn’t even remember what it had been like to be annoyed by him, couldn’t reach far enough into my soul to find the shallow shell of a girl I’d been when I’d first come onto this campus.
He’d filled me with life, even when I hadn’t asked for it.
The only sobering thought that had plagued me all week was the reminder that this was all we could have. We could have quiet nights losing ourselves in each other and quick fucks in dark closets where no one would ever find out.
But that was where we began and ended.
It didn’t matter how Holden held me after, or how the baritone of his laugh rumbled through his chest where I laid my head as he told me about his childhood. It didn’t matter that I lit up with a smile every time I saw him, a smile that had been so hard to come by before I met him, or that he made jokes about what our kids would look like one day.
We both knew, deep down, that this was it.
The biggest, most glaring issue was of course that my father had made it clear from the first time I walked into the locker room that I was off limits. He’d threatened Holden and every other teammate that their career would be over if they crossed that line.
I knew, maybe even more than Holden did, how true that was.
My father didn’t sling threats without having the balls to back them up with action.
But while to Holden and every other guy on the team, they probably just saw it as a threat from an overbearing father, I knew better. I knew the real reason he drew those uncrossable lines.
It was because at the end of the day, he didn’t trust me.
Letting me live on my own and assigning me with his quarterback’s PT was one thing. A building block in trust, perhaps. But at the base of it all, he still worried I’d get caught up with a cocky athlete and lose myself again. He worried I’d fall off track, partying, cutting class, fucking every chance I got. In his mind, he’d already imagined a thousand ways that I would meet an early death just like Abby did.
And after all I’d put him through, I couldn’t fault him for that.
I owed it to my father to stay on the straight and narrow, to not let him down, to not fall into any situation that would send him barreling toward a heart attack I knew I’d conjured up one too many times in my short life.
My father may have been stern, but he’d sacrificed for me.
It was my turn to do the same.
“You seriously read this stuff?” Mary asked, snapping me out of my thoughts as she let a book fall from her hands and onto our old, wooden dining room table.
Giana gasped and picked the book up, checking it for bruises before hugging it to her chest. “Of course, I do. And it’s good — amazing, really. You just need to give it a try.”
“Forgive me if I don’t get off on the idea of reading about some mafia lord kidnapping me and tying me up in his basement,” Mary said flatly before pouring herself more wine.
Riley shrugged. “I mean, that sounds pretty hot to me.”
“Thank you!” Giana said, thrusting an open palm toward her backup.
“What about the alien porn?” I chimed in.
Riley made a face while Giana held up a finger. “Listen, don’t knock it until you try it. It sounds insane, but—”
“Do you read any normal books?” Mary asked.
Giana frowned, tapping her thumb against the edge of the book still cradled to her chest. “I like vanilla romance sometimes… a sweet friends-to-lovers, maybe a second-chance situation.”
“And those don’t have sex in them?”
Giana snorted. “Like I’d waste my time on a book without spice.”
“I’ll admit, the one you gave me about the high fae bat-winged dude was pretty hot,” I conceded.
Giana just gently set her book down before waving a hand over me like Vanna White. “Another example of me being right.”
“Tell you what, G,” Mary said, putting down her wine glass. “You play an hour of Red Dead Redemption with me, and I’ll read one of your books.”
“Deal,” Giana said, shaking Mary’s hand without thinking. Her little frown of determination slipped a little once the handshake was done. “Wait, what’s that game about again?”
“It’s an action-adventure western,” I answered for her. “Cowboys and guns and shit.”
Giana considered, and then smiled triumphantly. “Oh. Well, I like cowboys. Small-town romances are some of my favorites.”
Mary arched a brow at me like should we tell her? But I just shook my head and smiled, nodding toward where Riley was doodling on a notebook. “That’s cool.”
Her cheeks flamed when she looked up at me, and she covered the butterfly-looking thing with her palm. “I’m much more suited to curate the art than to make it.”
“I don’t know. That would make a pretty bad ass tattoo,” Mary said.
“Speaking of… how many do you have?” Giana asked, her eyes wide as they skated over all the black ink poking out from under the tank top Mary wore.
“I lost count somewhere around fifteen. They all just bleed together now.”
Giana leaned in closer. “Whoa. What do they all mean?”
“What do you mean what do they mean?” Mary laughed. “They’re just tattoos.”
“But they’re permanent,” Riley said.
Mary smiled, shaking her head and pointing to one above her elbow. She started explaining how her first handful had all this meaning and thought behind them, but then eventually, she just started getting things that looked cool or made her smile or just seemed like something fun to have on her body.
I listened quietly, babying my wine less because I didn’t want to drink, and more because I knew this close to Abby’s birthday, it was dangerous to toe the line of drinking too much. My phone buzzed on the table, and I picked it up, fighting a smile when I saw Holden’s name.
Holden: Come over.
I rolled my lips together, sneaking a picture of where the girls were now — Mary with her leg on the table while Riley and Giana peered over the table at the tattoo she was showing off on her calf.
Me: Can’t. Girls’ night.
Holden: Nice pic. You should send another one.
I frowned, but then the bouncing dots that told me he was texting more disappeared, and another text came through.
Holden: Of you.
I glanced at the girls, making sure they were still occupied before I flipped the camera around. I took a selfie with my tongue out and sent it to him.
Holden: You’re beautiful.
My smile faded instantly, heat cascading down my neck before I sat up a little in my chair and typed back a joke to clear any sign of that sweet remark.
Me: You just like me with my tongue out.
Holden: Very true. On your knees with your tongue out is my preferred view.
That text sent a jolt of desire right between my thighs, and I glanced at the girls before clearing my throat and excusing myself from the table. I walked slowly down the hall to our guest bath, locking the door when I was inside.
Then, I fixed my hair in the mirror, took my shirt off and then my sweatpants. I shoved them both out of the way before dropping to my knees and holding the camera phone above me. I snapped a pic and sent it to Holden before I could overthink it.
Me: Like this?
Holden: Fuck.
I smiled in victory, already putting my clothes back on. I washed my hands just in case the girls were listening — though I doubted they were. Then, I texted him again.
Me: Wait up for me.
My phone didn’t buzz again until I was back seated at the table, and now Mary had her ass out, showing an impressive floral tattoo that spanned her hip and outer upper thigh. I smiled, sipping from my wine before grabbing my phone and sliding my thumb to unlock it.
Holden: Oh, I’ll wait UP for sure…
I frowned, but then a picture came through.
My heart jolted, a pang of something delicious and electric flowing through me at the sight.
It was Holden, completely naked, in his bed, with his thick, hard cock in his hand.
“Fuck…” I said under my breath, tapping on the picture to make it larger. He’d taken the photo from a downward angle, like he’d held the camera between his thighs for the shot. He was half-propped up against his headboard, his cock in his hand, and the view showed me his tight balls, his veiny shaft, the thick base of him wrapped in his fist, and that perfect mushroom tip above his fingers.
Behind his show-stealing cock was Holden’s glorious abs.
And a panty-melting grin.
“What are you so distracted by?” Mary asked, and before I could answer, before I could turn my screen black or shrug her off or do anything, she reached over the table and snatched my phone right out of my hand.
“Mary, don’t!”
But it was too late.
Her jaw hit the floor, eyes bulging out of her head. “Oh. My. Cock.”
“What?!” Riley and Giana said at the same time, and then they were crowding over her while I sank into my seat and covered my face with my hands.
Shrieks filled the house.
“Oh, my God. Is that a…?” Giana started.
“A near-perfect specimen holding his gigantic wang?” Mary finished for her on a laugh. “Sure is!”
“Give it back,” I hissed, uncovering my face and reaching across the table. But Mary angled herself away, standing as the girls followed behind her.
Riley pulled the phone from Mary’s hand and looked closer.
Then her face went white.
“Wait… is that…”
Giana paled next. “Holy shit. That’s Holden.”
All their eyes widened as they pinned me, and I didn’t know what to do, what to say.
So, I didn’t say or do anything at all.
And it was confirmation enough.
Riley squealed at the same time Giana yanked her hands away from the phone like it was on fire. She shoved the heels of her palms into her eyes. “I’ll never unsee that!” she screamed.
“I never want to unsee that,” Mary said on a laugh, staring a little longer before finally handing me my phone back. I immediately locked it and shoved it in my pocket.
“Um…” Riley folded her arms, popping a hip as she stared at me. “I need details. Now.”
“Same,” Giana said, plopping down into her seat and moving it closer to mine. “You and… Holden?!”
I cringed, groaning as I dropped my head to the table.
“I called this shit,” Mary said, unbothered as she topped off all our glasses of wine. “Just saying.”
“Yeah, well, seeing his cock was your prize. You’re welcome.”
She smiled victoriously before leaning back in her seat, and then all their eyes were on me, waiting.
“Well?!” Giana probed.
I sighed. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re just… friends.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Friends who fuck.”
Riley blinked. Mary snorted. And Giana groaned.
“Oh, no. No, no, no. Didn’t you learn anything from the books I gave you? Have you never watched a single romantic comedy in your life? That never works out well.”
I sat up. “Yeah, well, it’s working fine for us.”
“But what if one of you develops more feelings?”
“We won’t,” I said, shifting in my seat. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” Riley asked.
“Have you forgotten who her dad is?” Mary held up her glass toward Riley before taking a sip, and her words silenced everyone as their eyes floated to me once again.
“Shit,” Riley said.
I shrugged. “It’s fine. Really. You guys are making a big deal out of nothing. Holden and I are very aware of what we’re doing. We… use each other,” I said, shifting. “To blow off steam. That’s it. No one knows.” I gave them all looks then. “And we need to keep it that way.”
Giana pretended to zip her lips closed. “I won’t say a word.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“But,” she continued, cringing. “I just… I have to know. Do you… do you like him?”
“Yes,” Mary said at the same time I said, “No.”
I glared at her.
“Like I said, we’re friends. And he’s a great lay.”
Every single one of their faces had this is a disaster waiting to happen written all over them.
I rolled my eyes and waved them off, standing. “There’s nothing else to say, so just drop it. And I mean it,” I added, pointing a finger at each of them. “Not a word. Not to anyone — not each other, not me, and especially not your boyfriends.”
“No worries there,” Mary mumbled before draining the rest of her wine.
Riley and Giana nodded their promise, and then I walked over to the kitchen and yanked open the freezer. “Who wants pizza?”
I was answered with an enthusiastic chorus of meeee before Giana was trying to sell Mary on her books again and Riley was not-so-subtly watching the ESPN highlights that we’d muted to keep her from fixating on them all night. I took the escape to work on the pizza and sneak my phone out again.
Me: Sorry for the delay in response, you knocked me out with that photo.
Holden: Hurry up and get your sweet ass over here.
Me: Give me two hours.
Holden: Two hours… and then, two orgasms.
I bit my lip against the jolt of pleasure that just that stupid dirty text could elicit from me as I tucked my phone away. Then, I tore open the plastic wrapping on the frozen pizza and flicked on the oven to pre-heat.
When I turned around, Riley and Giana were on the couch, trying to decide what we should watch.
Mary, on the other hand, was watching me.
