Chapter 27 Ava #2
Turning my head in the direction of her stare, my jaw dropped open. Dante Spence had just come into the yard through a side gate.
“Oh fuck,” I gasped. He looked as flawless as always with thick light blond hair that was in a low fade, square jaw, and perfect white smile.
He was slightly smaller in height than Jett, but his six-one frame was nothing to complain about.
His shoulders weren’t as broad, and he was a slimmer frame.
Jett had more bulk, which was surprising for his QB status, especially as he used his feet as much as his arm.
Dante stayed within the safety of the pocket more, but as a result, he had a slightly better throwing arm.
“You need to talk to him this time,” Mia urged me. “Not about football, but about girl things.”
“Periods?” I blurted, and Bea burst out laughing.
“No, you lunatic,” Mia scolded me. She quickly checked for Shane, who had migrated to a group where Wade had stopped to talk on his way to join us, with Alex following. “We’ll distract Shane. This could be your chance, Ava,” she added excitedly.
Bea glanced at Shane and then me. “You collecting a harem, Ava?” she teased.
“Yeah, that’s me, the collector.” I noted that Dante was with his friend, Dustin Slater, and I saw Dustin see Mia at the same time as I saw Dustin. “Eh, Mee, you may need the distraction,” I warned her.
Dustin was the wide receiver for the Lions, and with agile footwork, he was weaving through the crowd to Mia like he ran his routes to the end zone, with speed and precision.
“Red, I was hoping to see you,” he greeted, and Mia’s smile could have lit the backyard. Dante was three steps behind Dustin, and I saw him recognize me at the same time as I saw the Devils move into my line of sight, and the only word to describe them was murderous.
“Hey,” Dante said as he reached forward and gave me an awkward hug.
Dante Spence hugged me. Willingly. Without provocation. Like he wanted to. Why didn’t this make me as happy as it should?
“Hi, Dante.” My voice squeaked, but he didn’t notice.
“Did you see the game today?” he asked me, and for the first time in his college football career, I hadn’t. Because I’d been watching the Saints. Because I knew Jett would be watching alone.
“Mm-hmm.” Lie, lie, lie. Was I ever going to tell the truth again?
“So,” Dante teased, his smile easy, “hit me with my stats.”
“Yeah, Ava, tell me Dante’s stats from today’s game.”
Whoever I pissed off, whoever I hurt, I’m sorry. This is not good karma. I do not deserve this. I am a good person. Please, will you fuck off?
“Santo?” Dante lost his easy smile.
“You look surprised to see me.” Jett’s voice had no friendliness. “But why? I’m at a party in my college campus. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“You didn’t play today,” Dante answered as two more of his team arrived behind him. “Heard you were injured.”
“Heard wrong,” Jett answered tersely.
Dante and he held a long stare-off, and I had absolutely no idea how I was in the middle of this.
“The party seems big enough for both of us,” Dustin said with a forced casualness, and the two grunts from each quarterback could be heard over the music, which I was sure had been lowered.
“Good game you had,” Ash said to Dustin, reaffirming my belief that Ash was the only decent Santo there was.
“Yeah, everything was coming my way today,” Dustin told him. “Saw your catch in the end zone — good footwork.”
“Thanks,” Ash replied, and then they were silent again.
“I bet you know all the stats today,” Dustin said with a knowing smile at me. “C’mon, tell us who had the better passing rate.”
“Uh,” I stumbled. I had all the attention, and I never in a million years wanted it. “For your game?”
Dante frowned. “Yeah, although remember that night you told me all the stats for that weekend? That was impressive.”
I could feel Jett as he moved beside me. A hand touched my lower back, and I tensed. “How do you know, Ava?” Jett asked as his hand pressed into my back, his fingers twisting into my top, and I knew it was to stop me from bolting.
“Huge Lions fan, aren’t you, girl?” Dustin had no idea he was making this worse for me.
“I’m more a lover of the game itself,” I croaked out.
“Lions for the win?” Gray growled.
Prick.
“Oh man,” Dustin laughed. “Did you see that shit on Twitter?” He laughed loudly. “Dude, you were a genius with the trash talking,” he said to Jett. “Our upcoming game’s got so much hype around it. We already obliterated every other team this week in the press.”
I noted that Dante didn’t seem to be impressed at his wide receiver’s easy friendship with the opposition, and then my panicked brain remembered that Dustin had gone to the same high school as the Santos.
“Got to play to the crowd,” Ash spoke for Jett, who was still in a stare-off with Dante.
Dustin looked around the party. Many were staring at the small group that I was still the center of, but most were partying like normal people on a Saturday at a college party. “My kid sister’s boyfriend is here. We agreed to detour on the way home and pick him up.”
“All of you?” Gray asked as he looked over the four players.
“Well.” Dante looked at me. “I came hoping to see you.”
“You did?” Jett spoke before I had a chance to. I felt him turn slightly toward me, and I knew my cheeks were on fire. “Why?”
“Don’t.” The plea was out before I could stop myself. Fingers tightened on my top, digging into my flesh.
“Don’t?”
“Girl, did you switch teams on us?” Dustin asked with a wide-eyed look as he clutched his chest in mock horror. His teammates laughed, and I was grateful for the attempt at easing the tension. But Dante didn’t laugh.
“She more than switched,” Gray said with a smirk as he took a swig of his beer. I felt Jett’s chuckle, and I looked over at Mia, who looked as helpless as I felt as I stood there caught in between the two larger-than-life egos. “We’ve all heard how much she switched.”
Bastard.
“Your stats today, I’m sure you know,” I said suddenly to Dante before any other Santo could make a dig at my night with Jett.
“Best player of the game, although Dustin definitely brought his A game. You’ll need to be quicker though next week, Slater; the Saints linebacker Brown was on fire today.
” I turned my attention back to Dante. “And you? You better hope that pocket protects you. Woods is on point. He had four sacks today alone. Saints’ defense may just be enough to win it. ”
Dante gave me a good-natured smile. “That your take? Saints going to take down the Lions?”
“Defense wins championships,” I answered blithely. “Offense can only take you so far.” Those fingers were going to leave a bruise on my back if he dug in any tighter.
“Offense takes it to the end zone,” Jett answered me before he spoke to Dustin. “Well, we shouldn’t hold you up on your search for . . . whoever.”
Dante held his stare and then turned his attention back to me. “Can we talk?”
“No.”
I blinked. With a small shake of my head as if to clear the fog, I looked up at Jett. “I believe he was talking to me.”
Jett glanced down at me, and I swallowed as his cold mask slipped, revealing his anger. Jaaaysus Lord.
“I was,” Dante said. “Talking to you, that is.”
“She’ll talk to you if you can tell me her name.” Mia stepped forward, and my jaw dropped open along with Dante’s. His lack of response only frustrated her more. “Seriously, dude, how many times has it been now?”
“Mia!” I protested as I looked at her with a clear what the fuck look.
Jett was grinning like he’d already received the Heisman Trophy. “Shh now,” he hushed me. “We’re all waiting, Spence. Impress us.”
Was my whole entire existence just for his entertainment?
Dante stood silent until it became uncomfortable for him, never mind me. He looked furious, and with a grunt, he spun on his heel and barged through the backyard to go inside, with his teammates following him.
Dustin looked at me in apology. “Sorry, Ava.” He sounded sincere, and I could only jerk my head once in a nod. “Red, don’t be a stranger,” he said to Mia with a wink, completely ignoring the fact that Alex had glued himself to Mia’s side. “See you on the field, guys.”
When they were in the house, Jett’s fingers loosened, and I wrenched myself free of his hold.
“So, how often do you hang out with the competition?” Jett asked me coldly.
“They’re not competition to me.”
“Is that right?” His tone was deceptively calm.
“That’s right,” I snapped back angrily.
“And that, my friends, is what we call motive.” Gray snorted. “We’re out.” Tapping Jett on the shoulder, he turned away.
Jett stood for a moment longer. His left hand stroked his chin before his fingers ran over his lips and down his chin as he considered me thoughtfully. “Pity.” He and Ash followed Gray.
“What did he mean?” Alex asked in the quiet that followed.
“It means nothing,” I answered softly. Nothing good anyway.