MADISON
Thankfully, the rest of my day goes by without another class with Jaxon. I don't see him once I get back from having lunch at my apartment, or on my way to the admin offices. It's a long shot, but I am really hoping to switch into a different Algebra 111 class.
As I round the corner towards admissions, I run into a wall made of solid muscle.
"Easy there, turbo." Looking up, I see a familiar face: Carter Hayes, quarterback for the PCU football team and my occasional escape from reality. We've hooked up a few times, nothing serious. He knew the score: no strings, no expectations. After a while, our physical connection fizzled into more of an easy friendship, giving me a much needed shoulder to lean on.
I plaster on a smile, grateful for the distraction. "Sorry about that. I was in my own little world."
He grins, his blue eyes twinkling. "No worries. I'm always happy to catch you."
It would be so easy to lose myself in Carter, just like always, to use him as a shield against the emotions seeing Jaxon stirs up. Surely not a healthy coping mechanism, but I’m in survival mode at this point.
"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" I ask, leaning against the wall.
Carter shrugs, his broad shoulders stretching his t-shirt in all the right ways. I never said he wasn't easy on the eyes. His sandy blond hair and blue eyes scream trouble. "Just turning in some paperwork for the athletic department. You?"
"Trying to switch classes," I admit. "Turns out, Algebra 111 isn't my jam. Again."
"Math's never been my strong suit either.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “There's a party at the Sigma house tonight. You should come. You know, blow off some steam."
I bite my lip, considering. Having a few drinks and losing myself for a bit may be exactly what the doctor ordered after today's events. But what if Jaxon is there too?
"Maybe," I say noncommittally. "I'll see how I'm feeling later."
Carter leans in closer, his voice dropping low. "Come on, Maddy. It'll be fun. Plus, I missed you over the summer."
"Okay," I find myself saying. "I'll be there."
Carter's grin widens. "Great. I'll see you tonight then."
"Hey," I call, stopping him before he can get too far. "Why didn't you say anything about the new football transfer?"
His brow furrows in confusion. "Montgomery? He entered the transfer portal at the literal last second. I'm still shocked we got him. I think we found out a day or so before camp started. Why?”
"Just curious. I'll see you tonight." I wave him off, more confused now than when I asked in the first place.
As I watch him walk away, I can't help but wonder what pulled Jaxon here. The last I'd heard, he was tearing up the field at Michigan State, projected to be a first-round draft pick this year. Why would he risk that to come to PCU, a school with a decent football program but nowhere near the national spotlight of MSU? It doesn't make any sense, unless...
No. I shut that thought down before it can fully form. There's no way he'd transfer schools to be closer to me, not after how things ended between us, after I walked away without a propergoodbye. I mean, shit, I didn’t even tell him I wasn’t going, and I definitely haven’t replied to any of his texts over the last three years.
Shaking off the guilt, I push through the doors to the administration office, only to find a line stretching nearly to the door. Great. Just what I need—more time alone with my thoughts.
I take my place at the end of the line, pulling out my phone to keep listening to my audiobook, anything to distract myself from the memory of Jaxon's eyes across the classroom. The way he'd looked at me—it was like he'd been searching for me, like finding me was the only thing that mattered.
An hour later, I walk out of the administration building, frustration simmering under my skin. No luck with the class transfer—apparently, there are no openings in any other sections of Algebra 111. I'm stuck with Jaxon Montgomery three days a week for the entire semester.
By the time I make it back to my apartment, I'm exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I drop my bag by the door and collapse on the couch, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.
"So," Lyla prompts, dropping down beside me and tucking her feet under her. "What happened? Did you get to switch classes?"
I shake my head, taking another sip. "Nope. I'm officially stuck."
"With a hot football player from your past?" She raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Such a hardship."
"Shut up," I mutter, but there's no heat behind it. "It's more complicated than that."
"Most things worth having are," she says with a shrug, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a surprisingly tender gesture. "You want to talk about it?"
