Chapter 1 Quinn
Present
Staring around the kitchen with my mask of indifference on, I willed my insides to stop shaking as I stirred the ingredients together.
I had been here only a few times since we started college, usually when Ash or Gray weren’t.
Ash, I think, was truly clueless as to how close Jett had kept me during our “estranged” times.
Gray knew; he just chose not to acknowledge it.
There were a lot of things that Gray Santo chose not to acknowledge.
As I added the chili flakes to the mix, I felt myself smirk at my inner thoughts. Gray was not alone in his selective recollections. There was a lot of shit that had happened between us that I didn’t acknowledge either.
He was no innocent, but then, neither was I.
Ash sat to the left of the breakfast bar as Gray lingered like a wraith behind me, with four or five of the team scattered around the dining area as I explained the nutrition of the dish I was making.
Sometimes, I hated the fact that I was best friends with the Devils.
They took a lot of shit, and therefore I took a lot of shit.
They also caused a lot of trouble; therefore, I caused a lot of trouble.
On a more personal level, I had been on both sides of their rule.
I had stood with them as they caused mayhem, and I had trembled when their anger was pointed at me.
I was currently back beside them, which is why it was “natural” for my assignment in my nutrition course to be allocated to the Cardinal Saints football team.
And because I was an extension of the Devils, ten of the football team had all volunteered to help with my assignment.
I was to make them meal plans, check their food intake, and see when and what food worked best with them.
Record every meticulous detail as if they were actually under my care and I were responsible for them.
Coach Bowers had signed off on it, and his daughter, Dr. Sanchez, was overseeing my work. The assignment was for two months and was fifty-five percent of my grade, so I could not afford to fuck this up. I could not afford for them to fuck this up for me.
I had met the Santo boys when I was eleven and they were ten.
Twins and a cousin who may as well have been their triplet.
There were four days between them. Four days.
Ash was due to be born the month before, but the stubborn bastard had refused to leave the womb until he was ready.
His poor mom, Charlotte, was the slightest female I had ever met.
Everything about her was petite, and she had not only birthed the monster, but he had also been three weeks overdue, ensuring her pregnancy was sheer hell.
I caught him staring at me as I spoke and started basting the chicken breasts with the marinade I had made. All low-fat, all calorie-counted, all fresh.
I offered him a small smile. It had been so ugly between us for so long. I was tired of it all. His face remained stoic, but he hadn’t cursed me out, and he hadn’t thrown me out. I was taking the olive branch, even if he didn’t know he was offering it.
The front door banged open, and I heard them before I saw them.
“Are you insane? You’re insane, aren’t you?” Ava’s voice was raised, and I exchanged a quick glance with Ash, who was grinning as we all listened.
“I’m not insane. You’re fucking delusional if you think that fucking dick doesn’t want to bend you over and fuck you.” Jett’s snarl was loud, and I could hear him marching toward the kitchen.
“You’re impossible!” Ava yelled at him, and all of us waited for Jett to come into the kitchen.
“I’m impossible?” We all heard Jett stop. “Are you fucking kidding me? You gave him your number!”
I winced, and I saw Ash open his mouth in an O before he slipped off his stool.
Gray had also moved from his corner toward the doorway, whether to hear better or intervene, I wasn’t sure.
Hoping it would be the latter, I looked over at him at his side profile and saw the smirk playing about his lips. Maybe I gave him too much credit.
“Giving a guy my number does not mean I’m going to have sex with him, you complete fuckhead. Why would I do that when I’m with you?”
Good question, I thought as I heard the silence. I stopped basting and put my hands on the counter. Gray looked my way, and I saw the amusement dancing in his eyes.
Silence meant either Jett was about to explode or they were already half undressed in the hallway.
“How many guys have your number?” Jett sounded calm. Collected.
The occupants of the kitchen all held their breath, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who was screaming internally for Ava not to answer, or at the very least, we were getting prepared to run if the answer was not what he wanted to hear.
“You’re being ridiculous. If you must know, lots of guys have my number.”
Oh, Ava. I heard several like-minded groans.
“Lots?” I heard my best friend’s low tone, and Ash was already halfway to the doorway, as was Gray.
The squeal of surprise caused me to jump, and I was hurrying to the hallway with everyone else.
Ava was flat against the wall, her legs wrapped around Jett as he kissed her, his hands buried in her hair, and her hands were already tugging up his T-shirt. Several of the guys were chuckling as they headed back to their seats.
Gray coughed loudly, and Jett slowly and leisurely broke off the kiss before he turned to look at the three of us. His grin was wicked as Ava dropped her head onto his shoulder in embarrassment over the audience.
“Am I late, Queeny?” Jett asked me casually as his hands slipped under his girlfriend’s top, and he chuckled as she hit his shoulder to stop.
“You’re late, and the in-lesson entertainment wasn’t needed,” I answered him lightly.
“Sorry, Quinn,” Ava called out as she lifted her head to see the three of us standing there. “He’s a caveman,” she said as she looked down at Jett with a small smile.
“Caveman, huh?” he asked her before he lowered her from the wall. With a quick move, Ava was over his shoulder. “I’m taking Wilma upstairs,” Jett told me with a cocky smirk. “Play nice with the boys, Quinn. Send me what I need, and I’ll check in with you later.”
Gray snorted and was already heading back into the kitchen, while Ash lingered for a moment, and we both heard Ava question why Jett was such a complete alphahole. Ash and I exchanged a grin before we both realized it, and then he was striding back into the kitchen.
I heard the door close on the upper level, and like a good friend, I closed the kitchen door firmly so we didn’t have to listen to either Jett or Ava as I finished my food prep lesson.
“Right, where were we?” I asked lightly as I crossed the room. Weirdly, the craziness that was the relationship of Jett and Ava had calmed me down, and I felt more confident as I finished the meal prep and told the guys how they were to record their food intake for me.
When I was finished and clearing the work counters, I was left with only two Devils.
“Are you sure this won’t mess up my training regime?” Ash asked me quietly.
“I have your training schedule from Coach Bowers and the sheet you filled in for me already. Every single plan I have created is catered to each individual. It’s not a one-size-fits-all. I know what I’m doing.”
Dark blue eyes met mine, and he said nothing.
As the silence stretched, I wasn’t sure if I should speak.
Our truce was tentative, but that didn’t mean it would hold.
He looked over my shoulder, and whatever he saw in his cousin’s face, he gave me a slight nod before he was on his feet and left us in the kitchen.
My time alone with Gray was limited at the best of times, and I felt my palms get clammy. Turning, I forced a smile as I piled the cleaning cloths onto the counter.
“You good with yours?” I asked him.
His light blue eyes were cold and distant as he watched me, with his arms crossed against his chest. “You know I hate fish.”
“You should eat at least one oily fish per week.” I could hear the boredom in my own voice; this was not the first time we had had this conversation.
I opted for sports therapy when I was fourteen, and from then until now, every week, it seemed I was arguing with these guys about my food recommendations.
Even when I hadn’t been “in” with them, I’d still kept an eye on them.
Jett hated any green vegetable but would eat it if forced, and he needed to be forced.
Ash watched every calorie like it was an enemy. His dad played defense, and Ash was determined to play tight end. He refused to put more weight on, his fear that the draft would see him, know his father, and a team would select him and change him from a tight end to a defensive lineman.
Gray hated fish. Hated it. He would force it down quicker than Jett would his greens.
Put chicken in front of Gray, and he would eat it every day and night until the end of time.
I would not get a good grade if I fed the running back of the Cardinal Saints variations of chicken, salad, and pasta every day.
I had been outside of their friendship for a short time, but even then, six years — six years — of telling these stubborn, bullheaded men what to eat was still a battle. Why would they never listen to me?
“I should also fuck a different girl every night to keep it entertaining, but I don’t.”
Pulling my hair out of the makeshift bun I had created for the lesson, I fluffed my hair out as I reached over for my purse, my hands wanting to wrap around his throat and squeeze tight.
“You say such charming things it’s a wonder your bed is ever empty.
” My smile was saccharine sweet, and as I left the asshole standing in his kitchen, I heard his low chuckle as I left the house.
Prick.