Chapter 11
Hail Mary’s walls practically vibrate from the cheers and laughter. Blue and white jerseys blur into one another. Bodies are pressed close, and the voices are so loud. Everyone is high on our win… and whatever beer they managed to sneak past the underage ban.
Six wins. No losses. We’re untouchable right now.
Except I don’t feel it.
Not even close.
While my teammates soak in the glory, I’m planted in the darkest corner booth, half-slouched and nursing a 0% beer, pretending it’s something stronger.
I can’t get drunk—I need my head clear because across the room, Jenni is still here.
She’s perched beside Honey, laughing with my friends as though she’s earned a seat at that table.
She hasn’t, and she sure as hell hasn’t earned Honey’s friendship.
What the fuck is her game?
“You planning on sitting here on your own all night?” Mason slides into the booth across from me with his eyebrows raised in disapproval. “And should you even be drinking that? You know half the room has their phones out. One snap of you sipping anything amber, and Coach will gut you on Monday.”
I lift the bottle just enough to show him the label. “Non-alcoholic. I’m an idiot, but I’m not a fucking moron.”
“Hey, boys.” Reese drops into the seat beside Mason, and I only look up for a second, hardly acknowledging him. “What’s with the death glare, Z?”
Before I can answer, Dax wedges himself in next to me with zero sense of self-preservation. “Let me guess—trouble in paradise?” He grins, looking between us. “The man’s been whipped since high school. It’s only her or a loss that can turn our trusted leader into a grunting Neanderthal.
“Did something happen?” Reese scans the bar, following my gaze. “Honey looked happy earlier.”
“She still is,” I mutter. “That’s not the problem.”
No. The problem is the blonde next to her. Jenni’s hand is on Honey’s shoulder now. She’s leaning in, whispering something that makes Honey laugh, and I tighten my grip around the neck of my bottle, trying not to imagine it’s hers.
“Oh, shit.” Sebi shows up with a slice of pizza folded in half like a taco and a soda.
“Is little Zachy finally regretting his ‘one-girl-only’ policy?” He takes a massive bite yet somehow manages to keep talking.
“Can’t really blame you. That blonde your girl’s hanging out with is a walking wet dream.
Who knows, if you ask, they might be up for a threesome. ”
My head snaps toward him, and I’m halfway out of the booth when Dax slaps a hand to my chest.
“Easy, Tiger,” he says. “You know Sebi’s brain short-circuits somewhere between his mouth and his ego. We all know your dumbass heart is tattooed with one name and one name only. Honey Sanderson.”
Sebi licks sauce from his thumb. “Exactly. No shade to the queen. If you don’t want the friend, I’m more than happy to entertain her. Maybe she’s into guys with dangerously high body counts and tragic mommy issues.” Then, like the masochist he is, he lifts a hand and waves. “Hey, Honey! Over here!”
I shoot him a death glare, but he just shrugs. “What? You were going to laser-beam a hole through her head if she didn’t come over anyway.”
Honey sees me and her face lights up. She grabs Jenni’s hand and starts heading this way.
Fucking perfect.
Dax moves out of the way, opening his arms as he bows toward Honey. “M’lady,” he says, making my girlfriend giggle as she sneaks past him into the booth next to me. I loop an arm around her waist, grounding myself in her warmth.
“You made that last drive look easy,” she says, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Her fingers slip beneath the table, brushing against my thigh. That touch is my last remaining thread of self-control.
“Evans doesn’t do hard,” Sebi says, smirking. “Well, except for when he—”
“Finish that sentence and I swear to God—” I start, but Dax’s already cutting in.
“Ignore Sebi. Man’s just mad because he peaked in high school,” Dax says, stealing a fry from Sebi’s plate.
“You wish,” Sebi fires back.
Mason and Reese scoot down, making space for Jenni, who takes the seat without even saying thank you. “So, how does it feel to be undefeated? You guys must be used to it by now,” she gushes, her eyes a little too wide. A little too eager. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
My eyes narrow and I take her in. Yes, it’s definitely her from the porch, but is she really going to sit here and pretend she has no idea who I am?
“Do you watch much football, Jenn?” I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
Honey elbows me in the ribs, a silent “what the hell?” But Jenni just laughs, completely unbothered by my harshness.
“Not really. I’m more of a baseball or hockey girlie myself.”
I narrow my eyes, studying her. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Really?” I lift my drink and take a slow sip. “Then why were you so intent on that football memorabilia last week?”
The table goes quiet, and I can feel Honey stiffen beside me. She might not know what I’m talking about, but she knows I only drop the friendly quarterback mask when I’m ready to burn something to the ground.
“Last week?” Honey’s back straightens as she turns her attention to me.
I place my glass on the table and gesture to Jenni. “You want to explain?”
Jenni swallows and hesitates. “I ran into Zach a few days ago.”
“Ran into him where?” Honey presses.
“Near his place.”
Dax takes in a sharp breath and scratches the back of his neck. “This is awkward.”
“How did you know where he lives? I thought you didn’t know who he was?”
Jenni’s face drains. “I didn’t. It’s not as bad as it sounds.
” She rushes on. “I was walking by, saw the footballs on the porch and remembered you telling me about them. That’s when I realized it was Zach’s place.
I tried to text you, but it didn’t go through, so I went up, picked up a ball to look at it.
” She raises her palm in my direction. “Then Zach was just there, and I panicked so I asked him to sign the ball.”
She looks down, clearly embarrassed, but I’m not buying it. Judging by the look on my teammates’ faces, they think I’m being an asshole for bringing it up. I don’t care. The only thing I care about is Honey and if someone is trying to use her.
I watch Honey’s face as she processes that. Confusion first. Then discomfort.
My jaw tightens.
“But then why’d you give me your number?”
Honey’s head snaps back to Jenni. “You gave him your number?”
Jenni’s face is crimson now, her eyes watering. “Yeah, I gave it to him, but only because you mentioned you’d changed yours recently. I wasn’t sure if you had it anymore and I was hoping he could pass it along.”
I arch a brow, lean back and watch every tiny reaction from her. “Mhm. Didn’t you say ‘Keep it. Just in case you need it.’”
“Yes. For Honey.” She closes her eyes and covers her face for a second. “I’m sorry. I didn’t explain myself better. I was flustered and embarrassed. A lot like I am right now.”
“Bull. Shit.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
“Zach!” Honey’s tone slices through my anger, and she whacks me on the chest. “Stop it,” she mutters under her breath, and I take in my girlfriend, realizing her cheeks are just as red as Jenni’s.
The table is silent now. Even Sebi’s mid-bite, leaving his pizza hanging in limbo, his eyes wide as if he’s watching a car crash in slow motion.
And that’s when I realize I’ve gone too far.
I didn’t just push it. I shoved the topic in front of everyone. That’s not who I am, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I’ve put her in this position, and that I let Jenni bait me into showing my fangs when Honey needed my trust.
“I’m gonna grab a drink,” I mutter, sliding out of the booth from my side. “Anyone want anything?” I ask, refusing to make eye contact.
Silence.
Yup. I’ve fucked up big time.
I walk away and head toward the bar. I signal for another non-alcoholic beer from the bartender with my jaw clenched so hard, I can hear my teeth grinding.
“Smooth, Evans,” Reese drawls as he saddles up beside me. “Real fucking smooth.”
“She’s lying,” I growl, barely keeping my voice in check. “And Honey’s just eating that shit up because she’s the first person who’s being nice to her here.”
“That might be the case,” he says, sipping whatever’s in his cup. “But detonating your relationship in front of half the team and the friend group? Not exactly what I’d call a power move.”
I glance back toward the booth.
Honey’s talking animatedly with Dax and Sebi, trying to keep the peace while her friend shoots daggers in my direction. She’s no longer the embarrassed or wounded girl I just left behind, but that doesn’t mean I should’ve acted that way.
“I know,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. “I fucked up.”
“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong about her,” Reese says, leaning in closer. “Something’s definitely off. No question, but you need to be smarter about this. Get Honey alone. Explain the situation. Calmly.”
Mason joins us at the bar, sliding his empty glass toward the bartender. “He's right. If you make this a public showdown, you're just going to push Honey away.”
“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll back off for now.”
I set the bottle down, the fake beer suddenly tasting too sweet, too warm, too much like bullshit. My fingers twitch to crush it anyway, but I slide off the stool instead, weaving through the bodies toward the back exit because I need some air to clear my head.
The hallway’s dark and narrow. It’s quiet, save for the faint, muffled bassline of the party still raging beyond the wall. I brace one hand against the cool concrete, drop my head, and breathe. In. Out. Again.
I should feel better. I don’t.
When I lift my head, Jenni’s there.
Of course she is.
Jenni stands at the end of the hallway with her arms crossed and her makeup too perfectly intact for someone who was ready to bawl over the table a few minutes ago.
“What do you want?” I ask flatly.