For Finlay

FINLAY

“I left this side for you.” I motioned toward the left side of the room as Sabrina carried in her first box two weeks later. “I hope it’s okay?”

“It’s perfect.” She flashed a mega-watt smile. Our video chats hadn’t done her justice. Her blonde hair was flawlessly curled—even after driving six hours from Florida. And her body was perfectly proportioned, the way models are photo-shopped on magazine covers. “How’s it been being here alone for weeks?”

“Not bad. I know my way around campus and have had the shower to myself.”

She laughed as she dropped down onto her bare mattress. “My parents are just parking the car and then I’ve got the rest of my stuff to bring in. It’s on the sidewalk out front.”

I walked toward the door. “Let’s go get it.”

“Seriously?”

I laughed. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Her eyes drifted over the long shorts and oversized shirt covering my body.

I knew what she was thinking. She was the first person who actually seemed to notice, and for once in a long time, I felt a little embarrassed by my lack of style, especially when I knew what college girls in Alabama were expected to look like. When my life went to pieces, trivial things like fashion didn’t matter so much anymore.

“Putting up with football players, you’d have to be.” Her eyes jumped back to mine. “How’s the football team looking?”

“They’re one and one right now in the preseason.”

“No,” she snickered. “I meant how are they looking?”

I thought back to the latest scrimmage and their attitudes when they were losing. Their grimaces. Their cursing. Their anger at each other. “Better with their helmets on.”

She tossed back her blonde curls and laughed. “I don’t believe that. Especially Caden Brooks. That boy is fine.”

Ugh. If she and all the Brooks groupies who’d been frequenting the parking lot after practices knew what an arrogant jerk he was, they would’ve thought differently. Luckily, we hadn’t had another run-in since the quad. He seemed to be avoiding me just as much as I’d been avoiding him. I shrugged. “If you like that type.”

“That type?” You’d have thought I dropped her phone in the toilet. “That boy is every girl’s type.”

“Well, if it helps, he jogs at four in the morning up at the quad.”

Her brows knitted together as she stared across the room at me. “Do you jog at four in the morning?”

“Sometimes. I just avoid the quad. It’s not big enough for me and Brooks.”

Sabrina’s eyes assessed my side of the room, landing on my cork board. I had a few inspirational quotes and pictures of Cole and me. “Looks like you’ve got your own hottie.”

I closed my eyes, knowing the conversation was inevitable. “That’s my brother.”

Her eyes rounded, intrigued and excited. “Will this brother be making an appearance?”

Tears blurred my vision as my eyes flashed away. “No.”

***

I rushed to the front door to stop the urgent knocking. The old hardwood floors in our kitchen creaked under my feet as I yanked it open, eager to give whoever waited a piece of my mind. To my surprise, two uniformed police officers stood there. Their stoic faces told me they weren’t pleased to be there. Had that cow tipping stunt finally caught up to me?

“Are your parents here?” the taller officer asked.

“They’re out back.”

Their eyes wandered toward the white picket gate on the side of the house before they turned and made their way toward it.

I spun around and dashed through the house to the back door, my heart suddenly hammering inside me. My mom hung clothes on the clothes line as my dad weeded her flower beds. Sure, some had been trampled by my brother playing catch before he left for school, but my dad still wanted them to look good for my mom.

As the police officers strode into the backyard, I froze. Something told me I needed to brace myself. My mom’s eyes jumped to them. Her smile quickly faded. My dad stood, his face sobering as he brushed the dirt and grass off his shorts. He crossed the lawn, meeting the officers in the middle of it.

The officer’s lips moved, but I heard nothing. I didn’t need to. My mom dropped to her knees and my dad followed her down, clutching her in his arms as sobs tore through her. I grasped the door frame, but my knees buckled beneath me, bringing me to the floor. As sobs overtook me, I knew with much certainty that my life would never be the same.

***

I hurried into the large lecture hall Monday morning, my eyes scanning the empty seats. The cap size on the class was five hundred, so I knew getting there early would secure me a seat. Apparently, no one else had that concern since the place was pretty much deserted. Preferring the back to the front, I climbed the steep steps, taking a seat in one of the last rows in the center section and stuffing my bag onto the empty seat beside me.

Growing up, I’d been Cole’s sister. Now, away at college, away from my small town, I could just be Finlay. I was starting fresh. And while my brother never strayed far from my mind—especially with me being part of the football team he was supposed to play on—I needed to forge forward. I liked to believe it’s what he would’ve wanted. It had become easier now that I didn’t have to walk by his empty bedroom every day. Now that I didn’t have to eat dinner at a table with one empty chair. Now that I was an only child.

“Move,” a deep voice grumbled, pulling me from my thoughts.

My eyes lifted. Grady pushed by me, knocking harshly into my knees as his big body moved in the small space in front of me. I eyed the empty lecture hall. “What the hell?”

“What?” He stopped, his beady eyes boring into mine, daring me to continue.

“There are five hundred seats in this room. Why do you have to choose one in my row?” Thoughts of Cole had obviously fired me up.

“For the record…” He lowered his big body into a seat three down from mine, squeezing his big butt into a seat that was way too small for him. “This is my row.” He dropped his bag onto the ground with a thud.

I turned to the front of the room, pretending he wasn’t there. I wouldn’t allow him to push my buttons. I wouldn’t give him that power. I slipped on my glasses to be sure I could see the front of the room, then watched as hundreds of unfamiliar faces filtered inside, dispersing in all directions.

“Hey, water girl.”

I inwardly cursed Grady’s very existence, contemplating how long I could ignore him before he began drawing attention from those around us.

“Give me a pen.”

I didn’t even think about it. I flung my pen at his big fat head.

He ducked as it whizzed by him. “Whoa. Haven’t you learned anything from ogling Brooks on the sidelines?”

Ogling Brooks? “Screw you.” I wasn’t about to take his shit lying down anymore.

A cross between a grunt and a laugh escaped him. “Speak of the devil.”

My eyes followed the direction of Grady’s stare. Brooks climbed the steps on the left side of the room with his hand entwined with a skinny blonde’s. Had I not had my glasses on, I would’ve thought it was Sabrina. Apparently, girls who looked like my roommate were his type. I found myself watching as he slipped into his seat, pulling her playfully down into the seat beside him.

“Ogling,” Grady repeated, snapping my eyes away from Brooks.

Dammit.

CADEN

Another semester of Psych 101 was gonna blow. It was shocking I’d remained eligible to play when my grades sucked so bad. But there I was, yet again, surrounded by mostly freshmen and transfers. I glanced around the room. Eyes were on me. It’s what I expected. It’s what I always thought I wanted.

Leslie’s hand gripped my chin, turning my face toward hers. “There’s nothing in this room you need to look at but me.” When guys envisioned southern girls, Leslie was it. Blonde hair, body to kill for, blue eyes that blinded, and she was smart to boot. Forget airheads. They may have been good in bed, but try carrying on a conversation with one. That shit got old.

I laughed as my eyes did one last sweep of the room. Nearly too wide for the seat, Grady sat in the back of the room glaring down his row at the water girl sitting a few seats over. Fucking Grady. What was the deal with those two anyway? He busted her balls every day at practice, yet the girl put up with his shit. I’d never met a southern girl to hold her tongue the way that one did with Grady. Her sassiness with me—and the way she nearly took my head off when I tried sticking up for her—told me she was no pushover. So I couldn’t fathom why she put up with Grady.

The first time she entered the locker room, her green eyes were so familiar. It was as though I’d seen them before. I wondered if we’d hooked up freshmen year. Wondered if she’d been one of many who’d invited me into her bed. And given the way she looked at me with nothing but disdain, it could’ve been the case. But the more I was around her, the more I realized her attitude, oversized clothes that made her look like a damn box, and that messy ponytail that sat too high on her head never would’ve tempted me—no matter how drunk or horny I might’ve been back then.

The professor stepped into the lecture hall. I half expected him to eye me with the same condescending glare he’d given me after allowing me to retake his final last year—at the dean’s urging. Then I still went and failed the exam…and his class. Yeah. I know. I was every athlete stereotype come to life. But it wasn’t like I wasn’t smart. I learned playbooks like a fiend. School was another story.

I’d been diagnosed with a learning disability when I was a kid. So it wasn’t that I couldn’t succeed in school, it was that I struggled to succeed. In high school, I’d had loads of help. But here, even with the IEP that allowed me extended time and modified exams, it didn’t come easily. Nothing but football came easily to me. And with my jam-packed football schedule, it left little time to study and fully grasp new concepts. Especially five classes worth.

Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t looking for sympathy. I wasn’t even looking for leniency. I just knew I was smarter than my grades showed.

Leslie’s hand slipped onto my thigh. Shivers rushed to my balls. I gave her a sidelong glance, but her eyes were on the professor sorting his papers on the front table. With each passing moment, her hand slid higher up, reminding me of the things she’d let me do the previous night when my roommate Forester was out and we christened more than one of the rooms on the first floor. The girl was insatiable. And I was not complaining. We’d been together since March. And though I had many opportunities to test the waters elsewhere, I’d been good, keeping it in my pants. At least since we’d been dating. The majority of my first two years had been a free-for-all, and I took full advantage of the girls making themselves available to me. Not proud, just saying.

But I’d learned early on not to fuck around on girls while in a relationship. My father took off on my mom when I was ten for another woman. Seeing my mom’s despair over him starting a new life with the woman he’d cheated with, well that instilled a deep hatred in me for cheaters—especially my selfish piece-of-shit father.

“What’s wrong?” Leslie asked. “You just got all tense on me?”

I shrugged. We may have been dating, but it didn’t mean I went all emo with her, spilling my guts about personal shit. We hung out. We had fun. We had lots of sex. Why bring my issues into it? She already knew I struggled with my classes. That was hard to keep hidden when I had to repeat more than one class. Lucky for me, she made it her mission this year to help me, taking two classes with me so when I was out of town at away games, she could take notes and catch me up when I returned. And she promised to make those sessions worth my while.

I glanced over my shoulder at Grady. The idiot was already asleep. Fortunately for the water girl, as long as he slept, he couldn’t bust her chops.