Just like that, Riley’s pants get charmed off.

“You could go to one of her intramural softball games,” she offers helpfully. “They play on Wednesdays.”

I glare at Riley for revealing that tidbit, but she avoids my eyes.

“Intramural softball? I like the way you think.” He smiles at Riley and she smiles right back. “Tell you what, I'll buy that fantasy book, but you can read it first. Then when you're done you can bring it back to me, and we'll go out and discuss it. Hold on while I pay for these books.”

“No,” I protest but neither pay attention to me. Masters leaves, and this time both Riley and I watch that fine ass, covered in cotton, as it disappears from sight.

“Stop panting. It's embarrassing,” I grouse and pull myself away from the bookshelves.

“Holy shit. I take that back. Did I say I wasn’t into athletes? Because I’ve changed my mind. Football players are totally my type.”

They’re everyone’s type, I think sourly.

“And Christ on a cracker, he devoured you.” She laughs semi-hysterically. “I once heard this ridiculous rumor that he's a virgin. Can you believe it?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yeah, I thought it sounded off when I heard it. Probably some—what do you call them?” She winds her hand.

“Jersey chaser? Gridiron groupie?”

“Yeah those. Probably one of those got turned down and started the rumor because, honey, he wants to do you so bad I thought for a minute he'd take you right here and now, and we'd get kicked out by mall security.”

“Let’s go,” I tell her. I don’t want to talk about the spectacle I made of myself. I want to escape before he comes back, even though he does have my book, dammit.

“I thought you wanted that book?” Riley peeks around the corner. “Besides, he’s coming back, so it’s too late.”

“Fine.” I straighten my own T-shirt and try to inject steel into my spine. “Thanks.” I hold out my hand for the book. I might as well take it if he’s so willing to let me borrow it.

Instead of laying the book in my hand, he holds up his phone. “I’ll need your digits so me and my book can stay in touch.”

“I’ll give the book to Jack and he can give it to you.”

Masters raises an eyebrow. “Is that the direction you want to take this?”

Dammit. No. I rattle off my cell phone number in a sour tone, which has zero effect on Masters’ good humor.

“Here you go.” He puts the book in my hand. “Think about where you’d like me to take you for dinner when you’re finished with it.”

“Why so interested in eating with me?” God that sounded filthy.

By his smirk, he thinks so, too. Locker room talk has taken all the innocence out of this virgin. “I’m interested in all of it.”

Riley makes a choking sound and I know I’ve turned bright red.

“I’ve got to get back to campus,” he says. “Can I give you two a ride?”

“No. I’ve got some stuff to buy. Girl stuff.” I glare at Riley.

“No problem. See you back at school.” And then he’s gone.

Thankfully Riley doesn’t say another word…until we exit the bookstore. “So when is the wedding?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you would marry the first guy who hit on you at the bookstore.”

“Riley, you are not funny. Not at all.”

“Really? I'm feeling pretty hilarious.”

15 Knox

Matty is in my apartment again when I get home from the bookstore. The encounter with Ellie has left me in a good enough mood that it doesn’t bother me that he has half my cupboard spread out on the coffee table and his big ass perched on my preferred side of the sofa. I give him the business anyway.

“Matty, don’t you have a home?” I kick the door shut and throw the books on the table.

“Yeah, but you have better snacks up here.” He reaches for the bag and rifles through the contents. “No comics? Your taste in books is questionable. Please tell me this book is for class.”

“I did have a book that had guns, machines, and sex in it, but I saw Ellie Campbell in the bookstore and had to give it to her or else.” I grab the half-empty Doritos bag and shove a handful of the fake cheese wonders into my mouth.

I pull my phone out from my pocket and pull up Ellie's entry. I wonder how long it will take her to read the book. “Are there rules for when you should text a girl?” I vaguely remember the guys arguing about this in the locker room.

“Three days unless it’s a booty call, then anytime after ten,” Matty says and flips the channel from the NFC preseason game to the AFC preseason game. It’s week three and the undrafted rookies, practice squad guys, and late pre-season signs are getting their chance to play their way onto the fifty man roster. It looks like the Seattle second and third string is beating the pants off the Kansas City team. Not looking good for KC.

“They need a good pass rusher,” I murmur between bites.

“And a decent quarterback, offensive line, and secondary.”

“That too.”

“Wait. Did you ask me when to text a girl?” Matty rouses from his football induced stupor. “Is this a Western co-ed?”

I nod.

He looks at me in disbelief. “You’re Knox Masters. Didn’t you just say your name?”

If only that’s what it took. Actually that’s all it did take most of the time. Having a jersey hanging in the closet was all some girls needed. Ellie is not one of those girls. Just my luck.

“I did, but she’s not jumping at the chance to go out with me.”

“Dude, wait, does this mean you’re going to have sex?”

I don’t answer, but I can’t help the shit grin that spreads.

“Holy fuck,” he shouts and starts to high five me. Then he stops abruptly, hand hanging in mid-air. “You can’t. I’m sorry to be a cock-blocking son of a bitch, but you can’t. We got the national championship on the line. You gotta keep that locked down.”

“Matty, you don’t get a say in when I have sex.” I pick up the remote and switch to the NFC preseason game.

“It’s a team issue,” he insists. He starts punching stuff into his phone.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I grab for the phone but he holds out one hand and presses send with the other. The damage is already done by the time I wrestle the phone from him. Sure enough, I see a group message for the entire defensive line to get the hell up to my apartment for an emergency meeting. The rush of shoes on the stairs thunders into the apartment before half the team bursts through.

“What’s the emergency?”

“Did Masters get hurt?”

“I was watching Adult Swim. This better be good.” The last comment comes from Hammer.

Matty stands up. “Masters here thinks he wants to mess with a good thing.”

Eight men, all weighing over two hundred pounds, crowd into my small apartment. If I got claustrophobic, I would freak out. Once the shit show gets started, though, it’s impossible to stop. I fold my hands behind my head and stare at the ceiling while the guys gear up.

They all want to stick their noses in because I’ve spent the last year harping on the importance of team. We win as a team and we lose as a team. Now we’re discussing my non-existent sex life as a team.

“What good thing?” Hammer grabs the Dorito bag and pours the remainder of the chips in his mouth. The other guys raid the fridge.

“Masters wants to lose the big V.”

“He wants to lose our game?” Jesse, a new starter on the line, asks. He’s ordinarily quiet, hanging out with his longtime girlfriend.

Hammer slaps him across the back of the hand. “Not V for Victory, numbskull. Virginity.” Hammer tosses the empty chip bag onto the coffee table. “Masters, my man, if you’re looking for tips you’ve come to the right place.” He muscles Matty aside and takes a seat. “First, to prevent a false start, jack off at home before you go out. If you’re out for more than a couple of hours, excuse yourself and pump another one out in the bathroom. That way you won’t get a reputation for being quick on the trigger. These chicks will spread that shit faster than crabs at a frat house. Second—”