Brody makes a sudden turn and faces the crowd behind him. His helmet is already on and hides his face, but his intensity is palpable and raises goose bumps across my forearms. He lifts a sinewy arm high, biceps rippling as he acknowledges the crowd. It’s a brief gesture, but they lap it up, roaring their approval while he’s already turning back around, swallowed up with the rest of his team.

They disappear further down the side of the field, becoming harder to see, but cameramen stalk the sidelines, ensuring they capture every moment for ESPN and the enormous jumbotron sitting up high at the far end of the stadium.

Kick-off comes and goes as I try to make sense of the game. There’s enough stopping and starting to give me whiplash, and when they score they call it a touchdown, but after passing the goal line, they don’t actually have to touch the ball down. Halfway through the second quarter, I give up pretending I have a clue and choose to watch Brody Madden instead. Leah’s right. He’s golden. Untouchable. And I know it’s cliché, but it’s guys like this that make the term ‘poetry in motion’ ring true. Trying to follow the play doesn’t seem to matter when you can watch him run down the field with the ball instead, his powerful thighs eating up the yards like he’s flying.

Midway through the third quarter, Hayden’s gone to get more drinks, and I’m slumped low in my seat, trying to stretch out my legs when a shout reverberates across rows and rows of seats.

“Killer!”

The crowd’s settled down from earlier, and they’re all intent on the game, so the sound rings clear across the student section. Dozens of heads turn, looking up in our direction.

“Killer!”

“Oh god,” I moan, spying Jaxon down in the very front row. He’s facing the crowd. One knee rests on his seat and both hands are cupped around his mouth to help direct his shout. He’s looking right at me. When he sees he has my attention, his grin spreads wide, and he waves at me to come down.

Leah’s brows shoot up so fast I wouldn’t have been surprised to see them fly right off her face. “Is he shouting at you?” she asks, her tone incredulous.

“Of course not,” I mumble, holding my giant coke up so I can hide behind it. The drink is empty but it’s still proving useful.

“Jordan! It’s Jax!” he shouts again. I peek around my cup and catch his eyes light up with mischief. “You know, the condom guy!”

This time a lot more than just a dozen heads turn my way. Hayden returns at that opportune moment and lets out a shout of laughter as he snatches the empty cup from my grasp. I protest at losing my cover, but he quickly replaces it with a full one before retaking his seat.

“The condom guy?” Leah hisses, leaning in close, and the tone in her voice says we need to talk, girlfriend. “You know that’s Jax Draper, right?”

My brows pull together as I look down at him, trying to see if there’s anything about the guy that jogs my memory. I get nothing apart from the brief moment where we met in the parking lot. “You say that like I should know who he is.”

Leah’s lips press together, and she shakes her head. I don’t know whether she’s about to burst into laughter or pass out from distress. Either way, uneasiness makes my hands begin to sweat.

“I don’t know if I should tell you now.”

“You can’t do that! Is he Texan mafia? Do Texan’s even have mafia?”

“Jax Draper is Brody Madden’s cousin.”

I shrug and the uneasy feeling disappears. “Okay, so he’s related to football royalty. So what?”

“He’s also Professor Draper’s son!”

“Oh …” I look back down at Jaxon. He’s still facing our way but the guy I recognize as Damien, the driver of the SUV, has his attention while he says something to him. “Shit,” I mumble weakly and lower my head, covering my eyes with my hand.

Leah jerks in her seat beside me. “Don’t look now,” she says, and of course I spread my fingers and take a peek, “but he’s coming this way.”

There’s no hiding so I drop my hand. Jaxon’s striding up the stadium steps toward us, holding his drink in one hand and using the other to wave at his father as he pushes his way through our row.

“Quick, get up,” he says urgently when he reaches me.

I look up at him, confused. “What?”

“Stand up, Jordan. Quick.”

The people around us are watching so I stand quickly, wondering what on Earth is going on.

“Thanks,” he replies and swoops in, sitting down with a deep, exaggerated sigh.

“Hey! You can’t—” I’m yanked onto his lap before I can finish. My cheeks flush, and I squirm as I try to push up off him. “What are you doing? Let me up!”

“Shush.” His arms slide around me like a steel band, pulling me back against his chest. “You’re causing a scene, and I’m missing the game.”

“Shush?” I twist in his lap to glare at him, pretending not to enjoy the feeling of being held against a male body, even though I secretly do. He’s warm and firm and smells faintly of fresh sweat and deodorant. “Did you just tell me to shush?”

“I did. Wow, Killer. It’s lucky you kick ass on the soccer field because your hearing sucks.” Jaxon turns his grin on my friend but doesn’t let go of me to extend a hand. “Hi,” he says to Leah. “I’m Jaxon.”

“So very nice to meet you,” she replies.

Jaxon then gives Hayden one of those male chin lifts, and Hayden responds in kind, saying, “Come to sit up here with the commoners?”

Jaxon winks at me. “No, just Jordan.”

“And now you can go,” I tell him. Peeling his arms from around my waist, I manage to stand.

“But I like it here.”

“That’s unfortunate.” I risk a glance in Professor Draper’s direction and find both he and Livvy are watching us. “I really can’t be seen with you.”

Jaxon leans back in my seat like he’s not going anywhere and takes a lazy slurp from the straw of his drink. “You can’t?”

“Your dad and I don’t get along,” I explain. “I missed most of his lecture on Thursday, and now I’ve earned a place in his bad book.”

“You didn’t!” Jaxon holds a hand to his mouth, gasping in mock horror. Then he cocks head at me for moment. “Oh hey, yeah. I knew I’d seen you from somewhere before. We’re in the same class. Your face turned such a brilliant shade of red I thought it was going to catch fire.”

“Well, thanks for that. I don’t remember you.”

“Ouch,” he says with a wince, rubbing his chest as if he has indigestion.

Leah and Hayden watch us avidly. Apparently our conversation is a lot more interesting than the football game playing out in front of them. I clear my throat. “Can I have my seat back now?”

Jaxon shrugs and stands up. He leans in close, his chest rubbing lightly against mine and his lips brushing my ear. “Later, Killer,” he says, and I feel him slide something into the pocket of my shorts.

Drawing back, he grins and jogs back down to the front row and his friends. Leah turns to me, a smirk playing on her lips. “Explain everything. Right now.”

Jordan

It’s not until we return to Hayden’s apartment after the game that I check my pocket. Leah and I are seated in the living room along with our soccer captain, Paige, who lives two floors above Hayden in the same building. Paige has silky jet-black hair, which is enviably straight. Cut in a bob, it rests neatly just beneath her jawline. She also has two vodka Red Bulls under her belt and brought the half-full bottle along to our impromptu gathering.

With drinks dispensed and Hayden and his roommate, Becker, safely tucked away in the kitchen putting snacks together, I dig my hand in my pocket and come out with a banana-flavored condom. Wrapped around it is a scrawled note with Jaxon’s number and the comment, If you change your mind about washing your hair, Jax xo