“Stop,” I gasp, ripping my mouth away. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies. Licking his lips, he stares down at me like I belong to him, which I don’t. Before I can shove him away, he’s kissing me again, his arms sliding around and locking me in place with iron strength.

His hot tongue rubs with mine, and I damn near combust. God he feels good. I missed this connection—this sense of belonging that snaps into place, like where I am is right where I’m meant to be. My arms wind around his neck of their own accord. He groans at the submission, a deep sound of lust and satisfaction that turns my bones to water.

What the hell am I doing?

“Stop!” I jerk backwards, struggling from his embrace.

Brody’s arms slide from my back to my hips but he holds tight. I pause my efforts and glare, my face burning with indignation. His hair is a tousled mess, his cheeks tinged pink, and dark pupils dilated. He looks wild and beautiful, like electricity is wired in his veins.

“Let me go, Brody.” A lump forms in my throat. I don’t want him to let go. “You can’t do this.”

“Do what?” He grins irresistibly. “Kiss you? Because I already did.”

His widespread fingers dig in deliciously and tug me closer, pressing a growing erection into my lower belly. My body throbs in response, a sweet ache building swiftly between my thighs.

“And I’m going to do it again.” He smacks his lips playfully against mine. “And again.” Another loud kiss lands on my mouth. “And again.” Brody’s lips come down for more. His carefree mood is infectious, making my outrage hard to hold onto.

“Stop,” I hiss before I lose it altogether.

“You heard her,” Leah interrupts from somewhere on my left. Brody’s head snaps in her direction. “Jordan’s not some toy you can just pick up and put down at will, Madden.”

His voice sobers, annoyance creasing his brow. “Give us a minute, would you, Leah?”

Leah is far from done. “No.”

Brody huffs, nostrils flaring. “Goddammit, Leah. Can you just—”

Her chin juts out. “No.”

I’m thankful for her strength right now. It bolsters my own. “Leah’s right, Brody.” His attention snaps back to me, tension gathering in his frame. “You can’t keep doing this. I’ve worked my whole life for the opportunity to be here, and it needs to be my priority. My life and career is all mapped out.” I breathe in Brody’s familiar scent, his body warm and protective. I want to bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply, letting the comfort of it settle in my bones. He’s right. This is what home feels like … but I have to let it go. “And you’re not part of it.”

His intake of breath is sharp, piercing my ears. “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course she does.”

“Leah.” My voice shakes. I stare down at my feet, blinking rapidly. “Can you go get me a sandwich before they’re all gone?”

My appetite has disappeared, but Brody and I need a moment alone.

Her voice takes on a warning tone. “Elliott.”

I force a reassuring smile that doesn’t fool anyone, least of all me. “Grain bread if they have it,” I add.

Leah shakes her head but walks off. When she disappears I look back to Brody, finishing what I need to say. “I can’t keep up with you, Brody. One minute your high and the next low. All I ever did was help you, and you threw it back in my face.” It hurts to keep talking, and I have to force myself. “I can’t do it anymore. I need to be selfish now and focus on myself. Please understand that and just let me be.”

“I can’t do that. I know I fucked up.” Brody shakes his head, the pink tinge on his cheeks now ashen. “Jordan.” My name is a rasp on his lips. “I’m sorry. I just needed time before I came to see you. There was something I had to do first.”

Reaching behind, he tugs a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “I got my results on the finals back.” Unfolding it, he shoves it at me.

“You …” I pause, my eyes catching the grade on his printout. I look up from the fluttering page, meeting his eyes. “This is what you had to do first?”

A happy smile curves his lips. “Yes.”

I feel myself responding. It’s impossible not to. “You passed.”

His grin widens. “I did.”

Elation bubbles up inside me. I want to grab Brody in a tight hug and laugh and dance up and down. Instead I take a step back, tucking my hands inside the back pockets of my denim shorts to stop myself reaching for him. He doesn’t need me anymore. “I’m so happy for you, Brody.”

His expression falls and his tone takes a bitter edge. “That’s it? You’re happy for me?”

I shake my head. “I am. Wow. You got a B plus. That’s …” So much higher then an F. Almost unbelievable even. In fact, the huge difference between the two grades hardly makes sense at all. I shrug it off, focusing on Brody’s expectant expression. “… incredible. You’re incredible.”

“No I’m not. You are. This is all you, Jordan. I couldn’t have done this without you.” Brody steps forward, bridging the gap. His voice lowers to a soft plea. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can.” A sob threatens to break free of my chest. “You just proved it.”

His eyes widen, panic filling them. “No, Jordan—”

“Here’s your sandwich,” Leah growls and slaps it against my chest. Her timing is impeccable. I grab the plastic wrapped bundle before it drops to the ground. “Now let’s go.”

My hand is snatched and Leah’s pulling me away. My legs feel like lead as she steers me back down the path. A quick glance over my shoulder shows Brody standing there, staring after me. His arms hang slack by his sides, the page still fisted in his hand.

Cracks form in my heart. “I’ll see you, Brody.”

Later that night I’m lying in bed with a textbook, pretending to myself that I can study with eyes red and swollen from a crying jag. A half-empty tub of caramel chunk ice cream rests on my bedside table. It’s my favorite flavor and never fails to fix any problem, yet tonight it leaves my stomach churning. Screw you, Ben and Jerry’s. You had one job to do.

With an aggravated sigh, my eyes shift from my book to the page resting on the bed next to me. It’s the failed exam Brody tossed away on the field all those weeks ago. The paper is a little battered but appears harmless nonetheless. The trouble is that it’s not. I’ve been harboring suspicion over Brody’s midterm all afternoon. Going from a failed grade to a B+ is a quantum leap. As I stare at it, my suspicion only deepens.

Was Brody’s grade sabotaged?

It’s the question of the hour, and one I’ve been pondering since I got home and dug the midterm out from beneath a pile of books. Seventy percent of the test is multiple choice. If Kyle fudged his answers, I have no way of knowing, but I can’t let this go. Brody deserves vindication. But pointing an accusing finger isn’t going to do any good. Neither is telling Brody. He will hunt Kyle down and pummel that snide toolbag into the ground. As much as I want to see that happen, the last thing Brody needs right now is negative media attention and suspension from the team. This is a matter that needs kid gloves. It also needs proof before I start throwing accusations about Kyle to Professor Draper.

Half an hour later my eyes are pinned on the ceiling as an idea takes root. It’s not one that sits well with me. In fact the very thought is going down worse than the Ben and Jerry’s did, but I can’t see any other option.

My phone vibrates with a text, the angry little sound making me jump. The brightly lit screen highlights Brody’s name. A shuddery sigh escapes my lips.

I lie there for a minute, pretending I’m not thinking about what’s in the message. Another minute later and I know it’s ridiculous. I won’t sleep if I don’t read it. It will niggle at me like a festering sore.