Chapter 28
Hayes
20 Years Old
Langston is drunk again.
It’s the third time this week, and I’ve had to cover for him with Coach every time.
Now, he’s escaped from our dorm and is on the quad. If anyone sees him like this, he can kiss football goodbye.
I thought he was getting better, but it turns out he’s only gotten better at hiding it.
Pulling my phone out, I send a quick message to the only person who can help.
Hayes: Meet me at the quad.
MJ: I have class.
Hayes: It’s for your brother.
I don’t bother waiting for a response.
She’ll show because it’s Langston, and I hate my best friend for that. He doesn’t realize what his sister does to protect him because she hopes one day he’ll snap out of whatever this is and be better.
But he’s slowly destroying her—and I have to sit back and watch it happen.
MJ and I are friends, but we walk a fine line. One wrong move and that tenuous friendship we’ve built will crack and crumble—especially when it comes to Langston. She will protect him to her last breath, even if it means breaking herself, and no matter how many times I point out what she’s doing, she never listens. So, I’ve learned to keep quiet and help in ways I can, like making sure that Langston doesn’t get kicked off the team.
The quad is busy with other students milling about, and it will take a miracle to get Langston out of here without getting caught.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of fiery red hair and blow out a breath, thankful that MJ is here.
She’s a freshman in college now and even more off-limits than ever. Unfortunately, that doesn’t prevent me from noticing how beautiful she is whenever I’m around her.
“Dude, I looooveee you,” Langston slurs, leaning his whole body weight into me.
One problem at a time—focus on one problem at a time. Right now, that problem has to be getting Langston out of here before anybody reports this back to Coach.
“Stand up,” I hiss, shoving him so he’s standing upright. He wobbles a little, but thankfully, he stays on his feet. “We have to get you back to the dorm, and you need to sober up before practice tonight. What are you doing, Langston? You have to do better than this.”
Langston sobers a little when I scold him, glaring at me until his eyes cross, and he groans. “Yup, that’s me—always needing to do better.”
The way he says it—like he’s resigned himself to the idea that he will never be good enough—sends red alarms through my body.
“That’s not what I meant, man.”
But he just waves me away, unwilling to listen to anything else I have to say. I let him because it’s a conversation I would rather have with him when he’s sober.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing his arm and weaving us between the other students rushing off to class.
“How did this happen?” MJ hisses, finally close enough to help.
Langston turns, a dopey smile on his face when he sees his little sister, unaware of the pure venom in her eyes. She’s mad, and I don’t blame her.
Her eyes find me, and that anger flames higher.
“Why is he drunk on a Monday morning?” she asks, lowering her voice and stepping closer so I can hear her.
“That would probably be a good question for him when he’s sober,” I answer her through clenched teeth, mad about this whole situation. “Help me get him back to the dorm.
She turns her attention back to Langston, whose gaze is bouncing back and forth between us. The corners of her mouth turn down, a sadness crossing her face that breaks my heart.
“What are you doing, L?” From the resignation in her voice, I know she doesn’t expect an answer, but Langston pulls her in for a hug, lays his cheek against the top of her head, and says, “I don’t know, MJ—I really don’t know.”
Turning my head, I try to give the siblings a moment of privacy in the crowded quad, but when I do, I spy some of the other players heading this way. If we don’t get Langston out of here soon, he’s toast.
“We’ve got to go,” I say, turning back to them and lowering my voice.
Langston doesn’t listen to me, keeping his head on top of his sisters, but MJ pushes him back, sensing the urgency in my voice.
“What’s the plan?” she asks, looking around the quad for the best escape route.
Tipping my head towards the guys heading our way, I say, “Those are some of the guys on the team. We need to get him out of here before they can talk to him. They will know he’s drunk, and I wouldn’t put it past them to tell Coach. They’ve already seen us, but I think I can distract them while you get him to the dorms. I’ll tell them you’re going for a sibling breakfast or something—try not to let him weave as much as you can. Keep your arm wrapped with his, and you should be okay.”
“I’m right here, you guys. I can hear you.”
I glare at him, “Yeah, but seeing as your decisions have been questionable here lately, you don’t get a say. Go with your sister, and don’t give her grief.”
He huffs, his words still slurring when he says, “I’m not a child.”
“Then act like it,” I snap. “Do you even care how much trouble I could be in for covering for you? Or that your sister has to miss a class?”
Anger slices through me, and I tighten my jaw to avoid saying more. The only other time I’ve snapped at him was the day he let MJ take the fall for him on our signing day.
Is that when his downfall started? Should I have seen this coming sooner?
I don’t have time to answer those questions. The guys are getting closer, and MJ and Langston have to get out of here soon.
Langston has the wits about him to at least look admonished.
“Go. Now,” I say to MJ.
She nods, following my instructions and looping her arm through her brother’s before dragging him along with her. He stumbles once, and I wince. But luckily, he catches his balance, making it look like MJ pulled him away too fast in her haste.
They’ve just turned the corner of one of the brick buildings on the quad when the other guys approach me.
“What’s up, Hayes? Where did Langston go?” Tripp, one of our offensive linemen, asks. He’s a big guy. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds, he towers over me. He comes off as intimidating to most people, but once you get to know him, he’s pretty great. It’s the other guy he’s with that I worry about. Graham Carter is selfish, and he’ll snitch if he thinks it will benefit him.
“Yeah, and who’s that little redhead he was with?” Graham ask.
I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from telling him just exactly how much MJ is none of his business because if I were to lose my temper over him merely asking about her, it would reveal my hand, and that’s one thing I don’t want to do with Graham. He would pursue MJ just because he knows she means something to me, and since we aren’t exactly talking, I wouldn’t be able to warn her away from him.
So I take a deep breath and keep my voice calm when I reply. “That was Langston’s sister. It’s been a while since they saw each other, with our summer training. They went to grab some breakfast before class.”
Tripp’s brows dip. “Doesn’t Langston have class now? I could have sworn he said he was in my psychology class.”
“Nah, I think he switched or something,” I lie.
“Right,” Tripp says, his voice wary.
“Anyway,” I say, clapping them both on the shoulder, “I have to get to class. I’ll catch you later.”
Neither question my hasty departure, continuing their walk to their lecture halls. I walk like I’m headed toward my class, giving them just enough time to leave, then circle back to the dorms.
______________________
By the time I make it back to the dorms, MJ already has Langston lying on the bed. He’s out cold and snoring, and MJ has pulled my desk chair beside him, watching him with sadness written into every part of her body.
Her shoulders are slumped as she stares at him with unshed tears in her eyes. She didn’t bother looking up when I walked in—just kept her eyes on him as if he might disappear if she takes them off.
Without a word, I pull up the other desk chair beside her, staying quiet until she’s ready to talk.
It’s almost five minutes before she says anything.
“I don’t know how to help him, Hayes. He doesn’t listen to me. He’s killing himself so that he can live up to our parents’ expectations.”
“Do you think they would still want this for him if they knew?” I ask, choosing each word carefully. She’s talking to me right now, but I’m afraid once the shock of seeing Langston like this wears off, she’ll push me away like she’s been doing since the day we decided to be friends—longer really.
Curling her nose in disdain, she barks out a laugh. It’s filled with anger and hate at all the things she cannot change—all the ways the people in her life have failed her, including me.
I’ve regretted my choice to push her away since the moment our eyes met at that party over a year ago. I thought I was protecting her, but I was just like everyone else in her life, assuming I knew what was best for her.
Now, I’m in a hell of my own making, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
“If anything,” she says, balling her hands into fists, “it will only make it worse.”
Grunting, I lean back in my chair. “So what do we do?”
She shakes her head. “Today—we sober him up, and tomorrow, well, we take the tomorrows one day at a time.”
I sigh, letting the sound of my breath fill the silence. “Do you think he needs to go to rehab?”
MJ flinches, the word painful to both of us. No one wants to admit when the person they care about has a problem because it makes you question your own choices, like if there were things we could have done differently to prevent him from going down this path.
Each and every time I’ve found Langston like this, I’ve questioned our past and if I should have seen it sooner. I know MJ has, too.
“I don’t know, Hayes. Maybe—but not yet. We can give him a little longer,” she says, her voice breaking like glass, “—just a little longer.”
The break splinters me open, shattering every reservation I have with her until all I can think about is easing her pain. Without thinking, I wrap my hand around her wrist, feeling the broken beats of her heart thump under my fingers. She doesn’t put up a fight when I pull her to me, sitting her on my lap, and I send up a prayer, thanking God for that one small miracle.
Letting go of her wrist, I circle my arms around her and hold her, hoping that she understands that I’ve always wanted to be the one to take care of her—even on the days I didn’t show it.
Her head falls against my shoulder, cradling into my neck, and I breathe her in—vanilla and sass mixed together, and so uniquely her.
And I hear it now—the way my heart beats for her like I’m finally living for the first time since she stopped talking to me a year ago and then made that stupid deal to be friends.
Torture.
It’s been pure torture, only being her friend, watching as other men on campus flirt and try to steal her attention, but I’ve sat back and let it happen because I’ve interfered with her life enough.
She deserves to find happiness.
But right now, I’m too weak to resist this moment. Just for a second, I’ll pretend I can be that happiness for her.
“I’ve missed you, MJ,” I breathe into her hair. “I—”
Her whole body stiffens. “Don’t, Hayes. Not today. Not right now.”
“Oh, baby,” I say, smoothing my hand over her hair, “I can’t help it. I’ve missed you every day. Even on the days we talk, it’s like you’re holding a piece of yourself back. It’s killing me.”
She jerks back, pulling away, but I tighten my arms around her waist, not letting her leave me completely.
“And you choose now of all times to tell me this?” she asks, anger and something else—something I can’t quite identify—swirling in those blue irises of hers.
“Yes, MJ. But I should have been telling you every day since you walked out of my life a year ago. I should have made you sure you knew that I couldn’t live—heck, I couldn’t breathe—without you. I should have gotten down on my knees and begged you to let me love you.”
“So why didn’t you?” She challenges, straightening her spine like the queen she is.
She leans closer, her breathing mingling with mine, and my eyes slice to Langston, making sure he’s still asleep.
MJ catches the motion and once again tries to pull away. I know how she took that—like I’m ashamed of how I feel about her—but that cannot be further from the truth. I would scream it from the rooftop if she would let me, but Langston has a lot going on right now, and I don’t want to add more to it.
So I don’t kiss her like I want to. I hold myself back, but I drag my hand down the center of her spine, making sure to keep my touch light. And when a shiver runs down her spine, I know she feels what I’m feeling, too.
“Because I’m a stupid, stupid man,” I whisper.