“Jack, you had to go to junior college for two years before you got your D1 scholarship!”

“So?”

“So!”

“Yeah, so? I went to the best juco in the nation. I played a shit ton of pro style, spread offense football. I racked up god-like numbers and got an offer from the best college program in the nation. Now, I’m a starting tight end for a team favored to at least make the playoffs, if not win it all outright. By my calculations, I should send Farrington a fucking gift basket. I won’t because he’s a douchebag. Look, if you want to be with Masters, be with him. Don’t let this stupid football thing stop you. Shit, he plays on defense. He’s not in charge of who throws me the ball and when. Plus that guy wants to win more than anything. As long as I’m valuable on the field, I could fuck goats in the locker room.”

“Is that a quote? Because it sounds like something Masters would say.”

Jack smirks. “There’s nothing going on, but you know the types of things he’d say?”

My shoulders slump. “I don't know what’s going on. It’s complicated. I didn’t mean to dance with him or anything. He came out of nowhere and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Jack’s face tightens, so I hurry and add, “Not like that. He didn’t force me. I just…” I spread my hands. “I have no explanation for it.”

“I do.” He squeezes my shoulders and his quiet support seeps into me. “You wanted to, and that’s enough. You don’t have to have a reason. I already told you the past doesn’t mean shit to me.” He releases me and then slings an arm around my shoulder, propelling me down the sidewalk toward my apartment. “You and me got a new start at junior college, and we can keep it going here. Only two more years, and Mom and Dad won’t have any say in our lives.” Jack toes the line for me, too. “Enjoy yourself here. If Masters is the guy you want, if he wants you to be his first,” Jack chuckles at this, “then you should go for it. Just don’t tell me any details.”

Oh, Jack. His kindness kills me. Every giving, unselfish word that comes out of his mouth drives the stake deeper into my guilty heart. It does exactly the opposite of what his motivational speech intends to. If anything, I need to stay away from Masters even more. “It’s more than Farrington.”

“Then what is it?”

Because you always look at everything in a positive light. Because it’s naïve to think that Farrington did something unusual. If Masters decided your team should turn against you, then the entire team would shut you out and it would get a hundred times worse. Because I’m cheating for you and I’m scared that if I get close to someone on the team, my secret will slip out and that can’t happen.

Those are all the reasons I can’t give voice to. So I settle for a response that I’m not sure that Jack will even buy but it’s the only one I have right now.

“I just want someone who’s not an athlete.”

Jack sighs. “If that’s how you want to play it. We drew the short end of the stick when it comes to parents, but I’ve always had the team. You’ve only had me. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have another person on your side, Ellie. Besides, you could do a lot worse than Masters. He’s a good leader. Very chill in the locker room. Easy to talk to. He knows everyone’s names, even the redshirt freshmen.”

“You date him if he’s so wonderful,” I retort. I want to talk myself out of my stupid attraction to Masters, not develop it.

“He doesn’t swing that way,” Jack grins. “Plus, I don’t do virgins. Too clingy.”

“You’re a jerk, Jack.”

He laughs and ruffles my hair. I wish I could lean into him, but Jack is right. I’ve relied on him far too long. It’s time for me to make my own way.

13 Knox

I slept like a baby. After Ellie left, I went straight to bed. I wasn’t lying when I told her it was the best orgasm I’d ever had. In fact, I’m a little concerned that I won’t be able to come without her around, now that I know what it could feel like.

I suspect that jacking off is all I’ll be doing in the foreseeable future. She’s skittish, and if I rush too fast I might be on the ass end of a hit it and quit it if she ever did give in.

About two seconds after my orgasm ran through me like a freight train, her eager, captive expression turned to embarrassment and then apprehension. I’m not sure if she is more afraid of me or what she’s feeling but we’ve got plenty of time to work that through.

In the morning, I get up and run five miles like it’s nothing, and then meet Matty at the weight room.

“That smoothie this morning tasted fucking awesome. What d’you think she put in it?” he asks.

I think back. “Spinach, because it looked green. Banana. Maybe strawberries?”

“Papaya,” Hammer grunts between blows of the sledgehammer on the tire. “Got to be because it tasted sweet.”

“Papaya? Where the fuck did that come from?” Matty scoffs. “It was pineapple.”

“We had pineapple three days ago, and this tasted sweeter, so it was something else.” Hammer jabs twenty pounds of iron in Matty’s direction. “Papaya is a sweeter fruit.”

“Where the fuck are they getting papaya?” Matty sits up and places his hands on his hips.

“Same place they’re getting the pineapple and bananas, dumbshit.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or ask Matty to hit me in the head with a fifty-pound weight. The conversation is ridiculous, but if Matty and Hammer weren’t arguing about something then it wouldn’t be a day ending in Y.

“Hey, Masters, got a minute?” Campbell steps up by the weight bench. I nod but don’t stop because I’m nearing the end of my second set of seated dumbbell front raise lifts with the twenty-pound weights.

“What’s up, Campbell?” I set the weights down on either side of the bench and reach for my water jug. Campbell doesn’t answer but looks pointedly at Matty and Hammer, who are still arguing.

“How do you even know if papaya is sweeter than pineapple?” Matty scowls.

Hammer lifts the sledgehammer over his head and brings it down on the tire. “Papaya has a higher fructose level.”

Jack and I exchange looks because neither of us can believe these two are still arguing about the fucking fruit.

“Matty, Hammer, I think Jesse needs some help.” Jesse didn’t need a damn thing, but it’s obvious Jack wants to talk privately, or as privately as you can in a weight room where fifty guys are lifting, throwing ropes, and doing chin ups.

Campbell lifts his chin in thanks as the guys wander off to see if Jesse can mediate their dispute. “What’s with the shrug before you do the dumbbell front raise?”

“Isolates the rotator cuff muscle.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Nice. Didn’t learn that at juco.”

“Small weights, more reps are my recommendation but I suspect that you didn’t come to talk to me about that.”

“Yeah.” He drags a hand through his pretty boy hair—about the same shade as his sister’s. The other guys on the team are blind. Ellie and her brother have many similarities—the color of their hair, the deep brown of their eyes. Ellie's a lot shorter, but she’s got the same kind of internal strength that Campbell has. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and my sister. She’s an adult, so I can’t prevent her from dating anyone, but if you hurt her, I’ll come after you. I’m psyched to be playing here, but I’d give up my place on the team if that’s what it came to.”

If Campbell meant to scare me off, he’s not doing a good job of it. Knowing she’s got a brother who cares about her? That her brother is the kind of unselfish guy who’d put his family first? I rub a hand across my chin while I think of a good way to respond. I won’t lie and say I’m not interested, but I also don’t need to tell him that I intend to bone his sister into next year, or that I spend most of my down time thinking about her naked, spread, and ready.