Love on the Sidelines (Boys of Ann Arbor U #3)

Chapter 1

brANDON

Isit in the driver’s seat of my Bronco, visor flipped down. My reflection is gaunt, my sandy mop disheveled and in need of a trim as my blue eyes stare back at me in the small mirror.

“You got this,” I say to myself, glad no one is around to witness my pathetic attempt at a pep talk. “She’s your best friend. She cares about you, which is why you owe it to yourself and to her to be honest.”

I exhale.

“And the truth is that you love her. You’ve been in love with her.”

I swallow at the thought of what I’m about to do. No matter what happens, you won’t lose her.

I scrub a hand down my face as my pulse quickens. But what if you do?

Pissed at myself for not telling her sooner, I flip the visor back up with a snap.

Maybe I should’ve gone with Chris’s plan.

After all, he’s one of my best friends, one hell of a running back, and landed a girl who once thought he was an obnoxious ass?and he is an obnoxious ass.

Maybe I should’ve accepted his stupid fucking Love Playbook instead of shoving it back in his face.

No. I shake my head.

The truth is my friend. The truth is all I have. Tatum is my best friend. We’ve known each other for years. She deserves honesty, not some manipulative game plan designed to win her over, like she’s a prize to be claimed.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white. The evening sun casts long shadows across the dashboard as I stare at her apartment building.

We’ve been back at school for a week now, and for one week, I’ve grappled with what to do about my feelings in light of her new boyfriend.

The truth is, summer changed everything for me.

Three months of busting my ass in the weight room and on the football field while she was back home in East Lansing, getting to know her new boyfriend, Ethan.

Three months of missing her laugh, her terrible jokes, the way she steals the butteriest pieces of popcorn in the bowl, and never fails to wish me good night.

Three months of finally admitting to myself what I’ve always known but never spoke out loud. That what I feel for her is more than friendship. It always has been.

“Fuck it.”

No risk, no reward, right?

I yank the keys from the ignition and shove the door open, stepping into the balmy September air. The walk across the parking lot feels like crossing a football field in slow motion, each step heavier than the last.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I enter Oakridge Hall and punch in the code she gave me freshman year, entering the lobby and passing the attendant with a wave.

The elevator ride to the third floor stretches like an eternity, each one dinging past with agonizing slowness. By the time I reach her door, my palms are slick with sweat and I’m second-guessing every word I’ve rehearsed.

I raise my fist to knock but pause when I hear Tatum’s voice through the door. She’s talking to someone, her tone light and intimate in a way that makes my stomach clench.

“I know, I miss you too,” she says, followed by a soft laugh that I’ve heard a thousand times before. “It’s only been a week, but it feels longer.”

My knuckles hover inches from the wood, clenching tighter into fists because I know who she’s talking to, and I hate it more than I have a right to.

I should leave. This is a mistake, I tell myself to move, but my feet remain rooted to the carpet as her voice continues.

“Yeah, I know. We’ll talk about it more when I see you this weekend.”

Fuck that.

I clench my jaw and force my knuckles against the door before I can talk myself out of it. Three sharp raps echo in the hallway. With any luck, after I confess my feelings to Tatum, Ethan will be a nonissue. A thing of the past I no longer have to worry about.

“Hold on,” Tatum calls out, then softer, “someone’s at my door.”

The muffled sound of footsteps approaches, and I straighten my shoulders, wiping my damp palms against my jeans as the door swings open, and there she is. Raven locks pulled into a messy bun, she’s wearing an oversized Ann Arbor sweatshirt and leggings, and looking so fucking good, I could eat her.

With any luck, if I succeed today, maybe I will.

One corner of my mouth slowly hitches at the thought, marginally brightening my mood.

“Brandon?” Her blueish-purple gaze brightens as her mouth stretches into a wide smile, dimples winking at me as she waves me in. “Come in,” she says before motioning to the cell phone at her ear and mouthing, “Ethan.”

I fight a grimace at the way her lips move over his name, wanting Ethan fucking White nowhere near them.

Turning, she moves further into the communal area shared by her three suitemates, while I follow behind, trying my best not to stare at the way her leggings hug her ass to perfection. Thank fuck for spandex.

Tatum sinks down onto the tiny couch in the middle of the room, and I’m instantly jealous of the worn cushions, when her smile falters at something Ethan says.

Her eyes dart to me, then away again as she gnaws on her lower lip, but I think nothing of it as I move past her to the mini fridge in the corner of the room and grab a bottle of water, pretending not to eavesdrop, even though I absolutely fucking am.

Her shoulders tense as she listens to whatever he’s saying on the other end of the line, her voice small as she says, “No. We haven’t seen each other all week.”

I freeze, water bottle halfway to my lips.

Is it me or did she sound almost defensive, pleading?

Something ugly twists in my chest at the thought, and my jaw tightens as I watch her curl deeper into the couch cushions.

I have no doubt she’s talking about me, and I wrestle with the urge to call her out on it.

“I swear,” Tatum says, her voice firm as I round the couch and meet her gaze. “Okay, I’ll call you after he leaves.”

A thrill runs through me as she hangs up. Because Ethan’s jealous. Of me.

I grin, the realization sending a surge of satisfaction through me I couldn’t tamp down, even if I tried. The Ken doll wannabe can suck it.

I sink down into the seat beside her as I school my expression into one that doesn’t betray my satisfaction at causing tension between her and Romeo.

“I started to think you were mad at me,” she says, turning her cornflower blue eyes on mine.

“Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been MIA the last couple of days.”

I lift a shoulder. “Just acclimating to my schedule now that classes have started. Coach has been riding us pretty hard. You know, with expectations being so high now that we’re national champs and all .

. .” The truth is, I’ve been grappling with what to do about our new situation.

“Everything good with Evan?” I ask, nodding toward the phone.

Because it would be a damn shame if they weren’t.

“Ethan,” she corrects me.

“Right.” I nod.

“But, yeah, it’s all good,” she says, her voice a little too chipper.

I narrow my eyes, trying to read into her tone, when she nudges me in the shoulder. “So, what do you wanna do? Watch a movie . . . Grab some drinks . . .?”

You, Tate. What I want to do is you.

I suck in a lungful of air, trying to calm my inner caveman. After all, that’s not why I’m here. “Um, maybe we could just . . . talk.”

“Okay.” She grins, lifting her legs onto the cushions and tucking them beneath her as she turns toward me.

“Let’s talk. I’ve been dying to catch up since we’ve both been so busy this week.

I feel like I’ve missed so much having gone home for the summer.

All I got the last few months are texts and a few video calls when you weren’t busy with training and the guys—”

While you were out meeting douchebag Ethan.

“—So, I yearned for our real talks, you know? The kind where I can see this pretty face,” she says as she reaches out and pinches my cheek.

I fight the flush that rises to my cheeks, but it’s no use. The feel of her fingers on me sets my skin ablaze every fucking time.

“Me too.” I swallow, mustering the courage to say what I came here to say.

Rip the Band-Aid off, bro. Just fucking tell her.

“And, actually, lately I’ve been thinking a lot, doing a lot of soul-searching.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her dark brows rise. “Anything interesting?”

I nod. “I think so.”

“Would you like to share?” she asks with a chuckle.

“Um, the thing is . . .” I scratch my head, trying to push away the nerves forming a fist in my stomach. Why is this so fucking hard? “It’s just that I’ve had some major revelations these past months, and after contemplating them, I have some pretty big news.”

Tatum expels a long breath, like she’s been holding it inside this whole time. “Actually, I’m glad, because I’m in the same boat. I have some big news to share, too.”

I pause, my gaze raking over her face as if I can read the news in her expression. Wasn’t Ethan the big news? What else could she possibly have to tell me?

A creeping sensation crawls up my spine, as I ask, “You do?”

“I do.” She nods, chewing on her lower lip, a sign that she’s nervous about whatever it is she wants to say.

The fist in my stomach tightens.

“But you go first,” she says with a wave of a hand. “What I’m about to tell you might change things with us, and I want to hear your big news before that happens.”

Change things with us? Holy hell, what if dating douchebag Ethan made her realize that she’s actually in love with me, too?

My pulse speeds up, and I lick my lips, suddenly eager to hear what she has to say. “No. You go first.”

She shakes her head. “My news can wait.”

“So can mine.” Coward. “Really, ladies first.”

“You sure?” she asks, once again worrying her lip.

“Absolutely.” My gaze drifts to her mouth—to the soft, plump lips I’ve dreamed about kissing hundreds of thousands of times.

“Okay.” She inhales, toying with the silver rings she always wears on her fingers. “The thing is . . . I’m thinking about transferring to Michigan State to be with Ethan.”

She . . . what?

All the blood drains from my face so fast the room spins.