11. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
CHRIS
A fter games like today when I kick complete, I usually run on a post-win high, but when I left the stadium and found Brynn waiting for Jace alone, I was more than a little disappointed.
Now, a beer bottle dangles from my fingertips as I lean forward on the couch, trying to come to terms with the situation. “So, she really said nothing about the touchdown? Like zero reaction?”
Jace shrugs, eyes never leaving his phone. “That’s what Brynn said.”
I hum under my breath and take another sip of my beer. “What else did Brynn say?”
Jace glances up at me. Fucking finally . It’s about time he gives me a little attention for a change. “Do you wanna talk to her?” he asks.
“You know I don’t appreciate the irritation in your tone. I just find it hard to believe she didn’t say one word about me.”
“Maybe you’re just that forgettable.”
I stand, stepping toward him at the same time there’s a knock on the door. “Take that back.” I point.
Jace snorts as I turn and head toward the repetitive banging, swinging the door open to find Damon and Brandon standing in the hallway. “Am I forgettable?” I ask them.
“Fuck no. How could anyone ever forget that face,” Brandon says as he squeezes my cheeks together like a chipmunk.
“Thank you,” I mumble between my squashed lips before he drops his hands, and I step aside for them to come in.
“Why’s he in a pissy mood?” Damon asks, nodding toward Jace who’s scowling at his phone.
“Ten bucks says it has to do with his girl,” Brandon answers.
“Because women are always the source of every man’s misery?” Damon asks, flopping down on the couch. “I concur.”
“Damn. Who hurt you, man?” I deadpan, looking him in the eye.
Damon snatches a throw pillow off the couch, courtesy of Brynn, and chucks it at me.
“Brynn was supposed to come over but made last-minute plans with the girls,” Jace says, explaining his surly disposition. “Apparently, Charlotte got invited to some party, but they don’t really know the guys all that well, and Brynn didn’t think she and Liz should go alone.” He shrugs.
“What party?” I frown, ears perking at the sound of Charlotte’s name.
“How the hell should I know? She said it’s some guy from the soccer team.”
Fuck. “Seriously, that guy?”
Brandon arches a brow, pushing his long sandy locks from his face. “You know him?”
“Of course I don’t know him,” I say like he’s an idiot. “And I don’t need to know him. Any dude who looks at her that’s not me is automatically a douchebag.”
“Obviously.” Brandon points his beer at me, and we clink bottles.
“For fuck’s sake. Don’t encourage him,” Jace says.
“So, we’re going, right?” I ask, directing the question at Jace since it’s his girlfriend who gave us the intel.
“What?” His eyes widen. “No. No, no, no, no!”
“And why the hell not?” I ask, indignant.
“Because I was warned not to even tell you what the girls were doing tonight, let alone crash some sausage party.”
At this news, I head for the kitchen and retrieve a bag of jerky from the fridge and start mowing it down. After Jace’s little prank last year where he hid all my snacks and forced me to eat nothing but chicken and veggies, I’m not ashamed of reaching for comfort in the form of dehydrated, overpriced meat. Discussing the possibility of Charlotte hooking up with another dude is a cause for eating my feelings, and I’m not ashamed of it.
“That’s offensive,” I say between bites of jerky. “Why would Brynn tell you not to tell me?”
“For one, she feels bad because she knows you’re trying to woo Charlotte, or whatever it is you’re doing with your playbook, and is keeping it from her. And for another, she knows exactly what you’ll do if I squeal.”
“And what is that?” I ask, throwing my jerky hand in the air.
“Show up uninvited and ruin it, that’s what,” Jace says, shooting me a pointed look.
“I take offense to the insinuation that my presence could ruin anything.” I point the jerky bag at him.
“Hey, give me a piece of that,” Damon interrupts, eyeing the dehydrated meat in my hand. I chuck a piece in the air and Damon catches it, shoving it in his mouth with a smile.
“Hey, that jerky is mine!” Jace points at his chest.
“What’s yours is mine, baby,” I say between bites.
Jace scoffs.
Damn, he really is a grump without his chick.
“Listen, I understand Brynn thinking there’s safety in numbers,” Brandon says, ever the voice of reason. “But think of it this way, could the three of them really fight off a couple of dudes if they tried something? I know I hate it when Tatum tells me she’s going to something like that. All I do is worry.”
“Hmm, wonder why?” Damon smirks.
“Yes, exactly!” I snap my fingers at Brandon, ignoring Damon’s snide remark which I’m sure has to do with Brandon’s blistering crush on his female best friend. “Thank you.” Turning to Jace, I note the alarm darkening his eyes. “I mean, can we really trust any strange guys with these girls at some random dude’s apartment, especially when alcohol is involved?”
Jace swallows and begins to rub the palms of his hands over his sweats.
I don’t know the details, but I’ve gathered from a few conversations and the way he’s so protective of Brynn that something happened in her past neither of them want to discuss.
“No.” Jace shakes his head and grabs his beer off the coffee table. “You’re not going to make me cave. It’s a small party, and Brynn can handle herself.” He glances over at Damon, the big brother of the group, for confirmation. As our quarterback and the oldest of the three of us, we look up to him and respect his opinion. “You agree with me, right?”
“I mean, if I’m being honest . . .” When Jace nods, Damon rakes a hand through his midnight locks. “I sure as shit wouldn’t want my girl at any kind of jock party without me there. I mean, you know how most of those guys are.”
“Cocky and overconfident, horny as hell, and they think they’re above the rules,” I add.
Jace bites his lip, and I can tell he’s teetering on the edge of caving, so I needle him a little more. “Come on, man, are we really gonna let these soccer douchebags steal our girls?”
“First of all, no one is stealing my anything,” Jace snaps. “And second, I promised Brynn I wouldn’t even tell you where they are, let alone show up, so we’re gonna sit our asses here and drink our beer.” He points to the sofa, and I fight the urge to flip him the bird.
“Like good little boys,” I mock, then shoot him a glare. “Are you really that whipped, dude?”
Jace smirks. “Proudly.”
“And that, my friends,” Brandon says, nodding toward him, “is the smile of a man who knows he has some A-grade ass waiting for him any time he wants it.”
“Yeah, as long as he stays on his leash.” Damon snickers.
“Shit, you’re right, Brando,” I grumble. “I can’t compete with the power of sex.”
“No, my friend, you cannot,” Jace says as his smirk turns into a shit-eating grin. “Especially when Brynn promised to stop by afterward to reward me.”
I groan. Great. So, Charlotte’s at some party flirting with some loser as we speak, and later, I’ll get to listen to Jace and Brynn go at it all night. Fucking fantastic.
“I know a couple guys,” Damon announces, stealing the jerky bag from me as I sink back down into the couch.
I stare at him blankly, but he ignores me, rooting through the jerky for fuck knows what. “Like in the mafia?” I ask. “Someone to knock this guy off? I mean, I’m all about busting a few kneecaps, but I’m not sure we need to go to extremes here.”
Damon chucks a piece of jerky at my head and narrowly misses his target.
“And you call yourself a quarterback.” I tsk.
“I know some guys from the soccer team, you jackass. I could probably get us an invite. That way, we wouldn’t technically be crashing. If asked, we can tell the truth and say we were invited.”
“I knew you were my favorite!” I lean forward on the couch and take Damon’s face in my hands, planting a noisy smooch on his forehead as he laughs. “I will buy you five tons of jerky, you beautiful, beautiful bastard.”
“You guys are fucking weird,” Jace says.
Brandon eyes me warily like I might come for him next as he says, “I’m with Jace on this one.”
“Let me make a few calls . . .” Damon trails off as he stands, taking his phone and the jerky with him as he heads into the kitchen.
“This is perfect.” I spin around to face the others.
Jace shrugs. “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind free beer and making out with my girlfriend on some other dude’s couch, but Brynn’s still gonna be pissed.”
“It’s fine. Just act like you had no idea the party Damon got invited to is the one they’re at.”
“Right. Because I’m sure there are two parties on campus being hosted by the soccer team.”
“Do you remember that time Brynn and the girls went on the triple date, and you asked me to crash the restaurant with you?” I ask, ignoring his sarcasm.
Jace purses his lips, glancing the other way like he can’t hear me.
“And do you remember how I sat there alone after we got there, eating a bowl of pasta while you made out with Brynn in the bathroom?”
“You loved that pasta!” He points his beer bottle at me.
“It was damn good pasta,” I admit. “But I left baseball, beer, and pizza for that pasta, and I even wore the damn loaner dinner jacket they gave us that smelled like cheese balls. And that shit was itchy, too. Gave me a rash for weeks.” Jace sighs as I stand and make my way to him, slapping him on the shoulder. “You owe me one wingman, and it’s time to collect.”
The sound of music and laughter trickles out to where we’re standing in front of one of the old student apartments. Exhaling, I rub a hand over the back of my neck.
Shit, I’m never nervous. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Damon knocks for the second time, and I ask, “Are you sure we’re at the right place?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he says with an eye roll. “Relax.”
“I’m relaxed,” I mutter at the same time a dude with bright red hair flings the door open.
His gaze immediately finds Damon, and they slap hands before Damon motions toward us. “These are my boys Jace, Chris, and Brandon.”
“What’s up?” Redhead tips a chin in our direction, then steps aside, allowing us access.
The second my feet cross the threshold, my gaze scans my surroundings to see it’s not so different from our apartment, only older. A small living room opens up to a little kitchen with a hallway I imagine leads to the bedrooms. Dispersed in the small space are maybe twenty people, which makes it pretty easy to find Charlotte.
My stomach flutters as my gaze zeros in on her like an arrow hitting its target, and all my nerves disappear.
She’s standing in the corner of the living room, talking to a dude I can only assume is the guy who invited her.
He leans toward her, a little too close if you ask me, a beer clutched in his hands and a seltzer in hers.
“Jace? Chris?” My gaze jerks toward the sound of my roommate’s girlfriend staring at us from her perch on the sofa. Her violet eyes flicker between us, a crease in her brow. No doubt she’s wondering what the hell we’re doing here, but before we can get two words in, she rises from her seat and storms over to us with her hands balled into tiny fists. “What are you doing here?” she asks, cutting Jace with an accusatory glare.
Jace wastes no time pointing at me. “It was his idea.”
I glance at him with a what the fuck look before I turn back to Brynn who’s burning holes in the side of my face with her retinas. “Damon got an invite, and we had nothing to do, so we thought we’d stop by and check it out. Celebrate our post-game win.”
Brynn scoffs. “You expect me to believe it’s a coincidence you’re here?” she asks, arms crossed over her chest.
“Exactly.” I glance back at Charlotte, unable to help the scowl that forms as I watch Soccer Guy whisper into her ear.
“No. No, no, no.” Brynn shifts in front of me, a bony finger pointing right in my face. “You stop that right now. I recognize that look, and you are not going over there.”
“Um, excuse me,” I say, more than a little offended, “but whose side are you on?”
“Neither. I’m on neither side.”
I snort. “You can’t be neutral. That never works.”
“Just for the record,” Jace says, motioning toward Brynn, “I’m on her side.”
“Shocker,” I deadpan while Brynn smirks and slides beneath Jace’s arm.
“Can you really say you’d rather Charlotte end up with that dude? Really?” I glance over at him frowning, and even I hate to admit he’s pretty to look at. Not that I’m telling her that.
“I want her with someone who genuinely cares about her and wants more than sex.”
My eyes widen. “I care.” I tap my chest. “I really fucking care, Brynn, and though I’d devote myself to worshipping her body like a meditating monk in a monastery on a month-long fast, that is not the only reason I want her.”
Brynn rolls her eyes. “Maybe, but don’t forget I know you also want something out of it.”
“Her softening her stance on our parents’ impending nuptials is more like a side bonus. You know I’ve had a thing for her since first year.”
Brynn scoffs. “A hard-on doesn’t count as genuinely caring about her.”
“I take offense to that.” I point. “My hard-on has feelings.”
“Chris!” She stomps.
“Come on, Brynn,” I say, softening my tone. “You know I like her. I’ve liked her for a while now, and I think if she’d ever let herself admit it, she likes me, too. It’s not like I’m lying to her. If I get to know her more and decide I don’t like her, I’ll back off. I won’t fake it, I swear.”
Brynn sighs. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “Just . . . don’t interrupt them, at least.”
“Fine.” I grin triumphantly. “I can be a good boy and wait my turn.”
She eyes me warily, then turns to smile at Jace, her expression transforming before she rises on her toes and presses her mouth to his.
Beside them I groan before I shake my head and find Damon and Brandon in the kitchen where Redhead offers me a beer I gladly accept.
I crack the top on it, sucking at the rising foam, all while keeping an eye on the couple in the corner. “You know that dude?” I ask, motioning toward them.
Redhead glances their way at the same time Lettie laughs at something Soccer Guy says, and it curdles my blood.
“Yeah, he’s a sophomore and our best midfielder.” Redhead’s gaze settles back on me. “Why?”
“What can you tell me about him?”
Maybe he’s a player, secretly gay, a serial killer, or?
“He’s actually a really great dude. Not only is he good on the field, but he’s even better off. Works hard. Gets good grades and has a lot of friends. He doesn’t play around either, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He stares at me closely as if he can see beneath my inquisition, and it makes me squirm. “He hasn’t had a girlfriend since starting at AAU, and from the sounds of it, his last girlfriend was fairly serious. They didn’t break up until they both left for college. Sounds like it was amicable. Why? Who’s the chick? She your sister or something?”
I splutter over a mouthful of beer. Sister? Pfft.
“Sure. Yeah, she’s my sister,” I say before I remember she might actually become my stepsister soon, and grimace.
“Well, she couldn’t be talking to a better dude. Seriously, man.”
I glare at Soccer Guy harder than before, wishing I could drop him down a peg or two.
“Well, that’s great news. Isn’t it, Chris?” Damon slaps a hand over my back with a cheeky grin. “Your sister’s in great hands.”
“Great fucking news,” I grind out. “The best. I’m fucking ecstatic.”
Tipping my beer back, I down the rest of it in two swallows. I half listen to the guys around me start talking about some lame-ass class they have together when Soccer Guy reaches out and takes Lettie’s hand.
The breath stalls in my lungs, and I crush the can in my hand as my gaze zeros in on the point of contact.
I feel like I might puke.
Holy fuck, get your shit together, Collins.
Inhaling, I straighten, setting the crushed beer can down as Lettie smiles and takes a sip of her seltzer. Her gaze wanders around the room behind the rim of the can, and it’s not long before it locks with mine.
Surprise flickers through those chocolatey depths before she lowers the can, giving me a view of her pouty lips curled into a snarl, as she cuts me with a glare.
I raise a hand, fluttering my fingers in a wave with a shit-eating grin on my face, and silently cheer when Lettie says something to Soccer Guy, then drops his hand and makes a beeline straight for me.