Perfect Touchdown

“I don’t think I can do this,” my best friend, Isabelle, says, her green eyes wide behind her dark-brown bangs. She tugs at the hem of her crop top before pulling down the frayed edges of her jean booty shorts.

The music blares out of the frat house as shouts and hollers echo through the air.

This is what I have been waiting for. This is my chance to break out of my good-girl shell and have my first college experience. Until now, I have done everything by the book; I worked my ass off to get here.

While I still plan to get on the dean’s list this semester and make cheer captain in two years, for today, it is time to enjoy life. It is time to enjoy boys, specifically.

“Come on, there’s nothing to worry about.” I put my arm around Isabelle and give her a squeeze. “My brother and Aiden are in there.”

Isabelle bites her lip before her cheeks blush. “That makes me even more nervous. You know how long I’ve crushed on Aiden.”

“Ew, gross. Don’t say that. He’s practically my brother.” I jump in front of her, taking her hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” I drag her toward the front door, but once inside, the loud bass nearly blows me back out, shaking the floors and sending vibrations up my spine.

The house is packed with bodies, and my excitement builds with every beat of the music. My eyes can’t seem to settle on any one thing; they bounce from the guys doing keg stands to the group playing beer pong to the crowd gathered around the TV.

“Isn’t this great?” I beam at Isabelle, and to my relief, she seems more relaxed, offering me a smile in return.

“Hey, Ry, Izzy! You made it!” my brother, Avery, calls from somewhere in the Mario circle. After I spot him, he comes over and envelops me in a hug. He then shoves a drink in my hands. “Welcome to Florida State University, where anything is possible.”

Avery spreads his arms wide, his playful, goofy grin taking me right back to my childhood. He even still has those same bouncing golden curls. Unlike that little boy, though, he now has a six-foot-two, lean-muscled frame—the physique of a quarterback.

Isabelle scoffs behind me. “Anything. Does that include alcohol poisoning?” she mutters.

After he shoots her a teasing glare, she gives him a shy smile, and they share a hug.

“Oh, Izzy,” he says, “I would never let something like that happen under my watch. You girls have nothing to worry about tonight.”

“Big talk for a mere sophomore,” I tease. “Have you reached any of your lofty ambitions yet?” I take a sip of the drink and then reel at how strong it is.

Avery chuckles. “Not quite. One thing at a time. Coach has recognized my abilities and has me playing second string, but I don’t think he sees me as captain material. Yet. But I have another year to worry about that.” He waves his hand. “You excited for rush week?”

Though the idea of joining a sorority never sat well with me, Avery told me that it would help my standing on the cheer squad, since most of them were members of Delta Phi. So, that is where Isabelle and I set our sights.

“Just watch out for that Leah Palmer,” Avery points at the thin blonde playing beer pong. “She’s ambitious—and vicious. You’ll have to win her over to have any shot at rushing Delta Phi.”

But tonight isn’t about that. It is about letting loose, having fun, and getting flirty.

“Let’s change the subject. Where’s Aiden?” I glance around the room, but he is nowhere in sight. “I’m dying to see him—and to party with him.”

“Hey! I party,” Avery says.

“Pfft, yeah right.” I cock my head. “‘Future fraternity presidents don’t get blackout drunk,’ I remember you saying.” I raise my eyebrows in a challenge, and a smile breaks across his face.

“Whatever. Come on, Izzy.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Let me introduce you to my brothers while Ry looks for hers.” He sticks his tongue out at me before pulling her away.

After taking a slow lap around the ground floor of the house, I spot Aiden walking up to the beer pong table, and I freeze in my tracks at how much he has changed since I last saw him a year ago.

His broader yet leaner, taller frame dwarfs the women around him. And as he high-fives his teammates, his bicep bulges, highlighting how he has shed the fat he used to carry. Aiden finally resembles the wide receiver he has always wanted to be.

And he looks good.

Isabelle has had a physical transformation of her own this last year, and with the makeup and fashion tutorials I used on her before coming here, she is unrecognizable as the Isabelle from high school. She looks like a sex goddess.

Just as my mind begins to plan their future together, Aiden’s bright baby blues catch my gaze.

“Ryles, you’re here!” A familiar crooked grin breaks out on his face before he rushes over to me, buzzing with his usual excited energy. “I can’t believe it!” He picks me up and swings me around, his light-brown hair flopping onto his forehead when he sets me down.

Those two sips from Avery’s drink seem to combine with Aiden’s twirl to make me dizzy, so I grab his arm to steady myself.

“Sorry, I got a little excited there.” He chuckles. “You look great, Ryles! I’m so happy you’re studying here too. It’s felt weird without you.”

“Thanks, Aiden.” I smile and then give him an exaggerated once-over. “You. It’s been so long, yet you still look the same. Except for this”—I jump to pat his head—“and this”—I measure his shoulders with my hands—“and these.” I squeeze the muscles down his arms.

He chuckles again and is about to respond when a guy calls out from behind him, “Hey, Reed, you’re up!”

Aiden motions with his thumb toward the beer pong table. “Hold that thought and watch me sink these guys.”

I do just that, and he absolutely does sink them.

College football has really helped him hone his hand-eye coordination, and he makes one shot after the other, winning the game practically by himself. In celebration, he chugs his beer and then crushes the can on the side of his head.

Both of us needing a drink, Aiden and I go to the kitchen. Located on the opposite side of the house from the speakers, this room seems to be the gathering spot for those wanting to talk, and it is crowded.

Aiden pushes his way to the fridge, grabs two cans, and stares down two girls standing at the kitchen peninsula until they move. “All right,” he says, handing me a beer as he leans on the counter. “Now, where were we? Oh, right, changes. What’s new with you?”

“Well, not much. Graduated, summer cheer practice, new semester here.” I shrug and take a sip, still not quite a fan of beer. “I’m more interested to know what uni life is like.” I glance around the room. “Seems fun.”

Aiden chuckles. “It’s not as exciting as you think. Every night isn’t going to be like this, Ryles. This is still school, after all. It can’t all be one big party.”

I roll my eyes and open my mouth to say, “Okay, Dad,” but loud cheering erupts in the foyer.

The people outside the kitchen all look toward the front door, seemingly excited about who just entered. A moment later, a group of guys wearing football jerseys walks into my line of sight, high-fiving and hugging everyone they see.

The guy nearest me—tall, built, and with short jet-black hair—turns toward the kitchen, and as his profile comes into frontal view, time slows down.

My eyes first land on his blindingly white smile, then on his perfectly symmetrical thick eyebrows, and finally on his striking hazel eyes, which are accentuated by his long dark lashes.