Chapter 2
Seth
Present day
I stare down at the perfectly manicured green grass, my fingers digging into the field as I position my body.
My chest rises and falls, just before the call is yelled, snapping my eyes to my opponent.
I push off from my feet, telling myself to defend—stop my man at all costs.
And I do, until my body aches and Coach’s whistle echoes through the near empty stadium.
The season starts in a few weeks, but our first practice still draws students on their lunch break, watching us train.
Falling into the genius category has its advantages.
My mind is like a camera I can play back and remember pretty much everything.
Once I see something, it’s a snapshot in my head I can always refer back to.
When it comes to lectures, I barely take notes.
I spend my classes leaning back in my chair, arms folded.
At first, my professors thought I was arrogant—uncommitted to my studies, just another jock coasting on on-field skills.
The looks I got, the comments like, “You should write this down, son,” only got a firm shake of the head.
Students would watch and whisper, but it didn’t take long for them to realize I didn’t need to take notes.
It’s just not how I work. I was always listening, and I always remembered.
While everyone else got hand cramps. Don’t get me wrong, I study.
A lot. Being pre-med, I have to. The downside of having a mind like mine?
I can’t find the stop button on that damn camera in my head.
Best I can do is slow my brain down for short stretches, give it a break before it starts firing off snapshots again.
First, football. When I’m on the field with my team, locked in on what I need to do, time slows.
My mind zeroes in on each play, and nothing else matters.
I can see people, break them down, study their movements until I’m practically reading their minds.
That’s what makes me so good. Second, weed.
A few puffs and the chaos goes quiet. It slows my hyperactive brain to something closer to normal pace that lets me be in the moment.
That calm is why I smoke, especially helping me sleep.
Third, and yeah, this one’s a given—is sex.
Let’s be real, what guy’s thinking about anything else while he’s tracing his hands over a gorgeous woman?
My three favorite past times, along with hanging out with my friends, and I do them a lot!
The day I was driving Heather to the dentist, and a drunk driver slammed into us, was the day I lost faith in man. It was the day I lost faith in God. It was the day I lost faith in myself. And after that, I simply stopped caring.
I open my locker and savor the dull ache in my muscles. Another hard training session, just what I needed after the off-season. The team’s looking strong, and with Randy throwing like he owns the field as our new number one quarterback, we’re going to be tough to beat this year.
We’re only a few weeks into senior year, and just like me, he wants that Championship—bad.
Ever since Rachel came into his life, he’s locked in, sharper, more determined to make her proud.
And it’s showing, he’s getting more lethal with every pass.
Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s the sting of last season, losing the Championship to The Cyclones.
Or maybe it’s both, love and hate, two of the strongest motivators there are.
I pull out my phone and look at the two messages on my screen.
Georgina: Are you okay, not too sore? You took some big hits.
Me: I’m all good darlin.
I watch within seconds as the three dots appear.
Georgina: I’m glad, heading back to class. See you soon xx
Me: Yeah
I quickly respond, pull out my clean clothes and slam my locker door harder than I should.
She cares too much, and her heart seems all the way in.
I hate the fact that I can never give her what she wants.
We have talked about it many times and she is adamant she is okay with that, but I still worry.
My mind internally battles if I could give a relationship with her a shot.
Fuck, she is sweet, loyal, gorgeous, with a fucking killer body, it makes sense.
But I’m just not in any position to love, not in the way she or any woman deserves. I open my next message.
Avalon: Hitting up Jason’s party? I want to see you again.
Me: I’ll be there.
Then there are girls like Avalon, down to fuck, no strings, no drama.
My go-to at parties. Totally different from Georgina, who doesn’t drink.
Don’t get me wrong, she’s a blast to be around and still shows up to the parties, but drinking, drugs, and puking on her own shoes?
Not her thing. And honestly, I respect that. Drunk women can be a pain in the ass.
So here I am in college, single and having the best fucking time of my life.
Before college? That’s a different story.
Not the friends, drugs, or wild nights that part was always there.
But the girls? Back then, it was just her.
I guess everyone has “the one that got away.” No—scratch that.
The one I pushed away. And now she is back, walking the same halls as me.
Since seeing her around, I’ve been diving headfirst into every distraction I can get.
Weed, girls, parties, because fuck, she’s back in my head.
Again. My friends have definitely picked up on the effect she has on me.
Warning Randy off about her didn’t help, but there is no way in hell I could have handled her walking down those stairs from his bedroom. My phone buzzes in my hand.
Avalon: Can’t wait, come find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting not so patiently ;)
Me: Done.
I place my phone back and shut my locker now that my night is planned. My body has cooled slightly and I’m ready to hit the showers.
“Ready to let loose at Jason’s place?”
I turn to my teammate and housemate Randy Harrison, knowing he is ready to party. I lift my foot onto the bench and start undoing my laces. “You just love showing off that girl of yours, don’t you?”
“What can I say,” he slaps my shoulder. “I’m a lucky guy. Who happens to have his woman kid free for the next twenty-four hours.”
I nod undoing the other boot. “Rachel’s parents have Sam?”
“Yeah, it’s movie and mac ‘n’ cheese night at the grandparents’ place. We’ll pick him up around lunchtime tomorrow, then we’re taking him ice skating.”
I grab my gear as Randy follows me into the showers. “Don’t let Merrick, Tyler or Travis hear you’re taking him there.”
I go into the closet vacant stall, drop my towel and turn on the shower letting the warm water wash over my body. I stare at the ceiling and close my eyes as the water rushes over my face, letting some of the water in my mouth. I open my eyes and see Randy waist up in the stall cubical next to me.
“They already know,” he spits water onto the floor, dragging his hand through his hair. “Sam even talked about playing a game of hockey. Wouldn’t be my first sporting option for him obviously but whatever the kid wants, I support.”
I glance quickly at his face then back to my own cubical.
He couldn’t be prouder of Sam. You can see it, in the way he talks about him, in how he interacts with Rachel’s son.
It’s written all over him: he loves that kid.
We all love him, like proud uncles or ‘bros’ as he calls us.
He loves hanging out with us and absorbs everything we teach him.
Even at four I must admit the kid has some skills with a football.
Watching Randy with him you can see how in awe he is, you would never know he wasn’t his own son.
“First on field training session of the season and god that hurt,” Christian Stone says occupying the stall to Randy’s left.
His scarred shoulder falls under the hot water.
It’s only a small mark left behind from the bullet, but it will never fade completely.
I’m not sure he would want it too. Nothing declares love and protection of your girl more than a bullet scar, right?
My tattoos might look cool and draw the eye, but nothing screams badass like a fucking bullet wound.
After being shot at the end of last year Christian is fully healed and ready to drive his team to the Championships.
Christian only got back from visiting Australia with his girlfriend Shelby last weekend. Over the holidays they flew down for two weeks and met her family. They did all the touristy things, fed some kangaroos and now they are back.
Tony Walsh has now fully recovered from his injuries.
He headed home to visit his dad who lives a three-hour drive on a remote cattle property.
Randy and I both stayed at home and chilled.
Sam and Rachel were over nearly every day, and I got to know Sam even more with all the sleepovers and countless games of football in the backyard.
With Rachel studying nursing I was also able to help her with some study she was stressing over this semester.
Juggling motherhood and studies would be hard, but I have no doubt she is going to kill it this year.
She’s smart and she appreciated me getting her head around things she wasn’t quite grasping.
It also helped me kill some down time. Between that, working on my bike and boxing my days away at the gym, the holidays flew by in a weed-filled haze.
“So, Cap! Ready to get your drink on?”
Christian looks over to Randy, both ready to spend some time partying with the team but more importantly their girls. “Hell yeah. And by the sound of it, Shelby and Rachel have already started drinking back at the house.”
“Nice,” Randy smiles shutting off his taps. “Then let’s do this,” he says sliding a towel around his waist.
I walk back to my locker, grab my bag and headphones. Guess it should be a good night.