Chapter 23
Noah
They were both waiting for me when I got back to the dorm room.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I closed the door.
“You got benched,” Dante said flatly.
“I know.” I headed to my room. “I heard him along with the rest of the stadium.”
“Don’t you want to talk about it?” Dustin asked as I opened my bedroom door.
“No.” I dug into my pocket and tossed him his car keys. “Thanks.” I closed the door behind me and kicked off my shoes. I was pulling off my hoodie when they walked into my bedroom. “You know my actual little brother wasn’t this fucking annoying.”
I met the QB’s cool gaze.
“What?” I tossed my hoodie onto my bed. “What?” I asked more sharply this time. “I don’t need your lecture. I don’t want your lecture. I just want to take a shower.”
“I don’t want to give you a lecture,” Dante told me as he sat on my bed. “I want to know how you are.”
“I am living my best life.”
Dustin leaned against the wall. “I had it covered.”
“I’m sure you did.” I looked between them. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I pulled out the chair from my desk. “Get on with it. If it makes you feel better, let it out.”
“Do you want to talk about why you’re so agitated?” Dante asked instead.
“You are the reason I’m agitated.”
“You went pretty heavy on Garrett.”
“Guy’s a dick. He’s twice Dust’s size. He was out of order.”
“I could take him,” Dustin mumbled.
“And then you’d be benched.” I crossed my arms. “You know who isn’t benched? Garrett.” I looked between them. “Why? He started it. How come he’s not benched?”
Dante tilted his head. “He’s on the IR.”
He was on injury report? I only hit him a few times. “Lightweight.”
Dustin huffed, and Dante sighed.
“Is it because I got involved, got benched, or hit him harder than you expected?”
“You’re still pissed off?” Dante surmised. “I’ll talk to Sutherland in the morning, tell him your side.”
“Don’t bother.” I stood. “Look. I’m angry, you’re right. I’m pissed off. I just want a long shower, a quiet night, and a good night’s sleep. Please.”
I didn’t think they would leave, but they did. Dustin told me he was outside if I wanted to play Madden. Dante told me his door was open. I nodded, letting them know I heard them, and when they finally left, I flicked the lock of my door, not caring they could hear it.
In the shower, I let the water run hotter than normal, and I stood under it until it no longer felt like I was burning.
The urge to stroke one out was gone. But the need to fuck Briar was not.
Need might have been the wrong word. I’d been thinking about it before the car, and I’d be thinking about it after. That wasn’t need. This was something that had been decided.
She fit over me perfectly. Her hips had rocked over mine with sureness. Why she pulled the plug on us was frustrating. I respected her choice, but I didn’t appreciate the teasing.
Not that she was a tease.
I washed my hair.
Tease or not, I still felt wound painfully tight, and she was absolutely the reason.
I got out of my shower and lay down on my bed, with a towel around my hips and another around my neck.
What the fuck was I going to do now? He’d benched me for a week. No spring game for me.
It wouldn’t matter even if I had a million followers; I was benched because I kicked my teammates’ ass for calling Hadley a lying slut.
She wasn’t even my girlfriend. But when he went down because of Dust’s punch, he had made a racist slur against Dust, and only I heard him.
That’s why I punched him, more than once.
When I tried to tell Coach, Garrett Benoit, the lying fucker, denied it.
Prick.
I let out a loud sigh. The very thing I had been avoiding had happened because of my own actions.
I sat up and looked at my phone. Did I text her? No. She shut me down. She had the choice, and she went with no. I needed to respect that.
I picked my phone up and crossed the floor on silent feet. Pressing my ear to the door, I could hear them both in the living room. Probably waiting for me to come out.
Me: How discreet can you be?
Hadley: I heard what happened. Thank you for defending my honor . . . you shouldn’t have. I’ve been called worse.
Hadley: What do you mean discreet?
The fact that she was brushing it off only pissed me off more.
Me: I want to talk, but I don’t want to involve them
The dots came and went.
Hadley: You have a story for me?
Me: Better. I have a plan.
Hadley: Meet me at my place tomorrow at 9? Wait! Do you need to go to practice, if you’re you know . . . not playing?
Me: No
Hadley: Cool, 9 it is. Don’t let them know. You want my discretion, give me yours.
Me: Done
I lay back on my bed as I thought it over. It was risky. It could cost me my place on the team, but I’d already lost that. It could cost Hadley her place in this college. I sensed she was willing to take the risk.
I needed a backup plan. My fingers drummed off the comforter as I let my mind race. I remembered film from earlier this week.
I closed my eyes as the answer fell into my lap.
I opened social media and searched for who I needed. Their profile popped up. We weren’t friends.
I sent the DM. It didn’t matter if we were friends or not. I was a player they needed on their team. If this was going to cost me my spot here, I wasn’t going without somewhere to land.
* * *
I listened to my roommates as they got ready for practice and then left the dorm room. Dante was always ahead of us, even though I woke up at the same time. He liked to be at the field and do an hour before anyone else turned up.
I liked to take my morning slower and got ready by studying tape. Different methods but same result — it put us in the right headspace.
I didn’t watch tape this morning. When the door closed, signaling Dustin had left, I got ready to go meet Hadley.
On the way there, I remembered that Dust had said she was cranky without coffee. I stopped and bought a plain black coffee and an iced tea for myself.
She opened the door on the first knock. I’d heard all about her cat, but I wasn’t expecting the level of disdain it greeted me with.
“Your cat’s got attitude,” I said as I stepped into the small space. Briar’s apartment was larger. She had a bedroom, with an actual door between it and the living room.
“She hasn’t been fed yet.” Hadley set the cat down when she’d closed the door. “Is that for me?”
She was already reaching for the coffee.
“It’s just black, didn’t know how you liked it.”
“Black’s good.” I watched as she took the lid off, sniffed it like she was trying to inhale it, and then added creamer. She turned back to me. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Dustin mentioned you like coffee.”
She arched an eyebrow. “He told you I was a raging bitch without it, didn’t he?”
I grinned. “Something like that.”
She shrugged it off. “Sit, sit. I want to hear all about your plan.” She pointed at her clothes. ”Look, I even got dressed to avoid the awkwardness.”
“Do you usually meet people naked?”
She genuinely looked like she had to think about it. I decided to move on. “Is this still too early?”
“No.” She reached over and patted my hand. “I really am sorry you got benched.”
“My fault. Guy wound me up when he beat the shit out of Whittaker. Then yesterday he started on Dust, it was always going to happen.”
She didn’t say anything, just sipped her coffee.
“I asked if you could be discreet.” When she nodded, I carried on. “I wanted to build my social media presence, have the numbers, so it would be harder to get rid of me.” She nodded again; she knew this. “So that didn’t happen.” I joked lightly.
“I’m sorry, Noah.”
I waved it off. “I really don’t get it,” I admitted. “The social media angle. I mean, I understand it for news and even celebrities and stuff, but personally, I don’t see the appeal.”
“That’s why your account would blow up,” she told me with a small smile.
“Well . . . it might still.” I met her gaze. “Can you post anonymously?”
She frowned. “Like a fake profile. Or a real profile, but keep who you are hidden?”
I nodded. “Either?”
“Yeah. I mean, when you open an account, you need to put in your details, but you can keep them hidden. Your handle name can be anything you want. You don’t even need to follow anyone to get followers.”
“And the content that you post, does it need to be, I dunno, verified?”
“Verified?”
“You know, does it need to be corroborated?”
Hadley frowned. “No. We live in a world of the keyboard warrior. Anyone, anywhere can comment, or post, and it can all be bullshit.”
“Really?” I leaned forward. “Then why did your blog post get taken down?”
She made a snort of disgust. “Because I openly accused the football department. I wrote my piece as if it were fact, naming and shaming. That’s libel.”
I sat back. “So you can’t name anyone?”
“You really do know nothing about posting, don’t you?” she asked me in surprise. “I thought it was just you brushing it off, but it’s real. The avoidance?”
“I hate it,” I admitted. “Don’t see the need for it. It’s just toxic, and no one needs to be that invested in other people’s shit when they have their hands full with their own. Know what I mean?”
She looked at me with such seriousness. I wonder if I just made myself sound dumb. “I’ve never wanted to know,” I explained. “But now I need to learn, and fast.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I want to make a fake profile. I don’t want anyone, anyone but me and you, to know who it is that’s posting, and I want to air it all.”
Her eyes widened. “Noah . . .”
I nodded. “Let’s do it, Hadley. I’m going to leak the information and let it loose.”
She swallowed hard and then took a gulp of her coffee, hissing as it burned her tongue.
“That’s ballsy.”
“I’ve only got my balls left.” I winced. “Sorry.”
She waved me off. “We drip feed them?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’ll post something big first, get the attention, then soften it, let it build, and keep on going.”
She stood up. “We have so much we can share.”
“I know.”
She licked her lips as she watched me. “We can’t tell them. None of them, even Savvy.”
“Savvy will tell Dante.”