Perfect Touchdown

AIDEN

With how loud the house has become, I don’t need to see who has arrived to know it is the rest of the football team. And this means the party is only going to get rowdier and the kitchen more crowded.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere a bit more quiet,” I say, leading Rylee out of the kitchen. Before entering the closed chapter room, I greet my teammates with some ass slaps, and then I sit in one of the many armchairs.

Rylee sits in a chair facing the door and looks around the dark space. “What is this room?”

“It’s where we have frat meetings and ceremonies. When we have big parties, we clear the space and let people in here.”

She scoffs. “You mean this is a small party?”

I chuckle. “You just wait, li’l sis.” I take a swig of beer, and in this dim light, I notice something about her. “You know, Ryles, you said nothing’s new with you, but I beg to differ.” I point to my face. “You lost the baby weight.”

Glaring at me, she says, “So did you.” Her eyes then dart to something behind me, likely something outside the door.

“Actually, no, I’m wrong. You didn’t lose the weight.” This gets her attention again. “It just moved.” I wait for her eyes to narrow before continuing. “From top to bottom.”

Rylee gasps—the reaction I wanted—and slaps my knee. “You’re such an asshole!” she says before laughing.

I join her, and I feel myself fully relaxing for the first time since I left home.

It is times like this when I wish I had a true sibling of my own. Avery is so lucky to have her, I think for the millionth time in my life.

We share a comfortable moment of silence before she breaks it.

“So, what else has changed about you? No, let me guess.” She leans forward and tilts her head. “You’ve given up your playboy ways, have a solid girlfriend, and have clear goals for your future, right?” She smirks, clearly aware of what my answer will be.

“Yes, actually. To all of those.” After she snorts and sits back, I shrug my shoulders. “What can I say, Ryles, one year isn’t that long. And besides, you know me. I’ve never been one for commitment—and that’s in every aspect of my life, not just who occupies my bed.”

“Ugh, gross.” She takes a sip, her eyes once again peering over my shoulder.

“Okay, seriously, what are you looking at?” I spin in my seat, and when I only see people, I ask, “Or rather, who are you looking at?” I glance back at her just as her cheeks flare red and her gaze drops to the floor. So, I whip my head back toward the door.

Jake is the only one looking our way, and he is looking right at Rylee.

“Wait, are you blushing at Jake Porter?” I face forward in my seat. “The guy wearing number three?” Her downcast eyes give me my answer. “Aww, Ryles, do you have a crush on a boy? Is this your first big-girl crush?” I give her my best baby talk, and it works.

She snaps her focus back to me, her eyes blazing as much as her cheeks.

Right where I want her. “Well, hey, he’s my boy! Lemme just get him.” I move to stand, raising my hand to wave him over, but Rylee bolts forward and pulls me back down, trapping my arms at my sides.

“What are you doing? Stop that!”

“No, really,” I say, pushing against her to stand. “He’ll be—”

“Seriously, Aiden! I’ll kill you! Sit down!”

I laugh at her reaction and raise my hands in surrender. “But no, seriously, Ryles. Do you have an interest in him? I could introduce you. He is a member of the football team and the frat, after all.”

She plays with the tab on her can. “Maybe.” She shrugs. “For now, why don’t you tell me what you know about him.”

“Not much,” I say, blowing out a breath. “He’s a good guy, social, mature. Good team player and respectable toward the ladies.” She meets my gaze at that. “I think he’s the one-woman-man type.”

While she just nods and purses her lips, I can’t help but see her in a new light. No longer is she the young girl I have always known; no longer is she so innocent and naive. She is an adult, who will do adult things.

For some reason, this realization twists my stomach. It is going to be hard to adjust to this new reality.

“So,” I say, suddenly desperate to change the topic, “how’s your schedule looking this first semester? What’s even your major?”

Rylee tells me that most of her courses are general requirements, plus one for her physical education degree—she wants to be a cheer coach one day. She practices five times a week, works out three times, and performs at the games.

“It’s a lot,” she says, and chugs her beer. She immediately grimaces, wrinkling her nose and curling her lips in distaste.

I smile. At least some things don’t change. “Yeah, it is, but you’ll get used to it. And, with such a full schedule, you’ll quickly make new friends.”

“True, but luckily I have Isabelle for that too.”

Cocking my head, I ask, “Isabelle?”

She nods.

“Isabelle Anderson? Your friend from high school? The little nerdy, shy girl?”

A wide grin spreads across her lips. “Yep, that’s her.”

“She studies here too? That’s great you came with a friend.”

“Yeah, it is. She’s my roommate too,” she says, nodding. “Since we both wanted to cheer and didn’t want to get stuck with a roommate we didn’t like, we decided it was best to dorm together.”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s nice to have people around who remind you of home.” I try my best to picture what Isabelle looks like, but my mind draws a blank. I can only remember thinking she was rather forgettable, and I am embarrassed that this is the case.

“Speaking of home, how about you, me, Avery, and Isa play beer pong? Boys versus girls,” Rylee says, saving me from my thoughts.

“Great idea! I’ll go confiscate and set up the table, and you go get them.”

We stand and go back to the party; she disappears into the crowd while I head to the table. After some boos from the current players, I shoo them away and reset the cups, moving to my position at one end.

“Hey, Aiden, you ready to get stomped by some girls?” Rylee calls out behind me.

“Ha,” I say with a scoff, turning. “Like two little girls could—”

I freeze in my tracks the moment my gaze falls upon the sexiest creature I have ever seen standing beside Rylee. Is that Isabelle?

Her eyes—green, which I suddenly remember them being—widen on me. In my peripheral vision, Rylee beams and brings her hands together in front of her mouth, bouncing up and down.

My stomach flips, and I choke on my spit.

No way.