Always Meant For You (Shafer U #4)

Chapter 1

one

Cash

The chintzy metal ladder jerks under my feet, teetering on two legs, and I pause with my arm halfway extended toward the Christmas lights I’m unhooking from the gutter.

Whoa. That’s what I get for rushing the job and not moving the ladder a few feet to the left, where the ground is more level. But my fingers are frozen despite the gloves, and I want to get this done and warm up inside with some hot chocolate and a heavy pour of Irish cream.

“Careful, man,” Lorenzo warns from below, reaching out to steady the metal’s death wobble. “Maybe try going one semester without almost breaking an ankle.”

“Hey, that’s the young, foolish version of Cash you’re talking to. I’m a new man senior year, you noticed?”

He makes a noncommittal noise as he takes the light strand from me and rolls it into a neat coil alongside the dozen others on the driveway. “Christ, how do you guys afford the electric bill?”

Leave it to him to have the same concerns as my parents. He’s basically a grandpa in the body of a muscled, tattooed middle linebacker, but that’s why we’re best friends. My brain’s weak in the “voice of reason” department, and Lorenzo has enough to go around.

“Worth every penny. Tradition matters, Lor.”

For decades, football players have rented out the big old house right off Shafer University’s campus, and every year, the residents go all out.

It’s been a tradition since long before any of us current players were even born: cover the house and yard with lights and decorations, throw a big Christmas party right before winter break, then another for New Year’s once everyone comes back to campus in January.

That one’s always a bittersweet way to celebrate the end of football season, but this year it’s more bitter than sweet.

With graduation a few months away, my college football career—my lifeblood for the past four years—is now over.

My feelings about that are almost as confused as my feelings about where my athletic skills go from here.

“What exactly happened here last night?” Lorenzo casts a critical eye at the plastic reindeer arranged in a neat circle. “Ritual sacrifice?”

I hop off the ladder. “Hey, you’re too good to party with us, then you don’t get to hear what goes on around here.”

“Not too good, too tired.”

“We kept it under control. No cops showed up, and I don’t have a single scratch on me. Pretty sure I even kept my shirt on all night.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

“Hand to god. Your lectures must have gotten through somewhere along the way. Pretty sure I’m gonna wrap up senior year without a broken heart or broken bone on my rap sheet.

” It’s not only Lorenzo’s lectures, though he has a certain fatherly tone that’s hard to tune out.

Senior year’s had a different vibe—our last season of football, everyone talking about postgrad jobs, and all my friends swearing they’ve found the loves of their lives.

Even Reeve, the most committed bachelor in our group.

The novelty of being the dumbass who jumps from girl to girl and is on a first-name basis with the X-ray technician at Urgent Care is finally wearing off.

I want to be the guy who plans his next move more than twenty minutes in advance.

At that thought, I pull my phone out of my coat.

My gloved finger hovers over the email app for a too-long second before my better judgment prevails and I stuff the phone back into my pocket.

What’s the difference whether the email has come through?

Might be life-altering for any other guy, but not for me.

“Hi, guys!”

I turn to find Ruby walking up the driveway with another girl, each holding two steaming to-go cups. They’re bundled in puffy coats with fur-lined hoods pulled over their heads against the flurries swirling in the gray sky.

“We come bearing gifts.” Ruby kisses Lorenzo, her blond hair whipping around them, while her friend approaches me, offering a cup and a coy smile.

“For me?” I ask with exaggerated surprise. “Well, if this isn’t the most beautiful sight I’ve seen all year.”

“That’s really saying something considering it’s January third,” the girl teases. Tiny snowflakes dot her mascara-coated eyelashes, which she bats while watching me take a swig of hot coffee.

“Academic year, of course.” I wink and take a quick scan of her body. Not much to see with all her winter gear on, but she’s pretty. Has Ruby ever introduced us?

“Okay, that’s enough.” Right on cue, Ruby links her arm through her friend’s and pulls her toward the house. “We just came to borrow your slow cooker for food science club.”

Her friend glances at me over her shoulder before disappearing inside.

“She’s not single,” Lorenzo tells me, picking up a plastic reindeer that’s fallen on its side.

“Good. I’m not looking.”

He pops a dent out of the fake muzzle. “You’re always looking.”

“No harm in being charming. You never know when you’re gonna meet your future wife.” I pause. “Well, not you. We all know that’s a done deal.”

Lorenzo glances at the front door Ruby’s long since disappeared through. I bet he doesn’t even realize he’s smiling.

“Back to work.” I slap him on the chest. “If Cam and Reeve get the back of the house finished before we do the front, we owe them dinner, and these studs didn’t leave much in the old bank account.

” Worse, I’ll have to listen to Reeve Dalton—star quarterback and world-class bragger—boast about it for the next week.

If I didn’t love the dude, I’d hate him for being even cockier than I am.

Lorenzo looks at my ears, shaking his head at the upgraded studs I got myself as a nice little Christmas present. “Tacky as fuck.” He pushes me toward the ladder. “But we wouldn’t have you any other way.”

We’re stacking decorations in the garage, fingers increasingly clumsy, when a car door slams in the driveway.

A woman rounds the rear end of a silver sedan before pulling something from the back seat.

Only when she straightens and kicks the car door closed with her white snow boot do I recognize her: Vee.

Last I checked, she was a sweetheart, but today she’s all flinty eyes and sharp movements as she marches up the driveway with a pink plastic cage in her arms.

“Vee,” I greet her, striding out of the garage. “It’s been a while, girl.”

Her lips tighten into a flat line. A puff of breath clouds the air as she says “Here you go” and shoves the cage into my arms. Judging by its shifting weight, whatever’s inside is alive.

“Uh, what’s this?” I try to peek through the air holes, but all I can make out is something small, furry, and gray.

“Oh, this? This is the kitten you talked me into getting. Remember? The first night we had sex and I told you I always wanted a pet, and you convinced me I should get one and swore to god you’d help me take care of it?”

“Um—”

“Now she’s yours.”

“You’re giving me your cat?”

She lets out a sigh like she’s relieved. “My landlord won’t let me keep her.”

“Wait, you can’t just return her?”

Vee’s jaw drops, and I think Lorenzo chuckles from somewhere in the garage.

“Sorry, I thought there might be a return policy or something.”

“She’s a cat!”

“So now you’re dumping her on me? I can’t take care of a pet. Why didn’t you check with your landlord first?”

“Poor judgment, I admit,” she says, lips pursed as she looks me up and down. “But you did say you’d help.”

Man should not be held responsible for answers given when in a state of undress. “Like most people, I say a lot of things.”

“Believe me, I know.”

A tense silence stretches between us while we face off.

I admit I did everything she accused me of, but that makes me a cat owner?

Seriously? During the few weeks Vee and I spent hooking up, I was always honest about having other commitments—namely football and family—and was always good to her.

Maybe that’s why she jumped straight to wanting more than a hookup.

Only when a faint, pitiful meow sounds from inside the cage do I remember I’m holding a cat. The sound stirs my sympathy, and I nod toward the house.

“She’s probably cold. Let’s get her inside, and then we can talk.”

But Vee’s already turning back to her car.

“I don’t have anything else to say.” She opens her trunk and takes out a shallow cardboard box with a litter pan, bowls, cat food, and a pile of colorful toys.

“You made a promise to help, I need help, and here we are.” She marches the box to the front door and drops it on the stoop before striding back to her car.

“Vee. Hold on!” I set the cage carefully on the driveway and hurry to her side. “This isn’t about the cat,” I murmur, placing a hand on her shoulder to soothe her. “I know you’re not happy with how things turned out between us, but I was honest with you from the start. Don’t be pissed.”

“I’m not,” she insists, even as she shrugs off my touch so violently I wonder if she’s pulled a muscle. “You’re right, you’re a very honest person, Cash. That’s why I know she’s in good hands.” With that, she jerks the car door open and gets inside.

A familiar sentiment, and I don’t know why it always comes as an accusation. I don’t hold back when I feel something. I liked Vee, and I told her so. And when I had to put my time toward training and helping my parents, I told her that too.

“Wait,” I yell as the car reverses down the driveway. “What the fuck’s her name, at least?”

Before she puts the car into drive, Vee rolls down the window, one brow arched, and shouts, “Mr. Jangles!”

The fuck?

Flurries give way to fat snowflakes while I stand frozen in place until her car disappears down the street.

A loud, slow clap erupts behind me, along with laughter, and I turn to find Lorenzo, Reeve, and Cam waltzing down the driveway, grinning.

“What a show,” Reeve hollers, winking one blue eye.

I shrug. “You pull as many girls as I do, you’re gonna get a firecracker now and then. I can tell you about it if you want to know what it’s like.”