“Not this again,” I mumble.
“It’s true. Why don’t you ask Abby to help you out? You said she’s leaving soon. That’s perfect. You’ll have a live-in fuck doll, and when she graduates and moves out, no harm, no foul.”
My jaw tightens. “Don’t talk about her like that.” Abby is one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met. She’d fucking die to know these assholes were discussing her like she was a sex toy.
Do I like living with her? Seeing her at the end of a long day? More than I’m willing to admit, but I’ll never confess that to my teammates. They’ll make a mountain out of a molehill.
Since that convo her first night at my house, I’ve been trying to put a little distance between us. I’ve never spoken about Gemma to another woman since she died. I don’t know why I did with Abby. It freaked me out a little.
Then Gemma’s mother Cynthia called me this morning, probably to talk about the anniversary of Gemma’s death, and I let it go to voicemail. I texted back to apologize because I can’t go down memory lane right now. I’ll never get over what happened if she’s constantly picking at the scab.
I’ve been feeling confused, so I don’t need Jinxy getting in my face about my roommate, but he won’t let it go.
His eyebrows lift. “You planning to date Abby?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing.” Jinxy shuts his locker. “She’s beautiful, sweet, and sleeping in the bedroom next to yours. Think of this as a mutually beneficial favor. She can fuck Ezra Thomas out of her system, and you can relax your ass for once. Then maybe we can win with more than a razor-thin margin this weekend.”
It pains me to hear he thinks I’m barely eking it out on the field. I glance around the room and a few other guys are listening. “Do y’all agree? Do you think I’m barely cutting it? Be honest.”
Guiltily, they look away, and my gut clenches.
Bowser clears his throat. “You’re doing your best, bro.”
“Fuck—” I cut myself off before I say something I can’t take back and stalk out of the locker room.
“Come back,” Jinxy yells. “Don’t get butthurt. It’s just a streak of bad luck. That’s why I suggested sex. It’ll loosen you up and—”
“It’s cool. Gonna get taped up,” I say to save face. But the conversation dogs me our whole practice. I can’t stop thinking about it.
I don’t believe in bad luck.
Or at least, I don’t want to.
20
ABIGAIL
“You’d better not be biting your nails.” Baylee gives me a look. “Not after I did that manicure.”
I give her a sheepish grin and tuck my hands under my legs. “It’s an intense game.”
Baylee came over to give me a manicure and watch the Broncos play Northwestern. We’re sitting on Nick’s leather couch, munching on snacks, and I’m trying not to have a heart attack. Every time the Broncos gain some momentum, Northwestern matches their energy and comes from behind.
It’s halftime, so I can catch my breath. At least now my lungs fully expand without that pinch in my side, and my bruises have faded to a lovely green color.
Glancing at the kitchen where Cadence and Hazel are cooking, Baylee whispers, “So how are things going with Nick? ’Cause I heard all about how he stormed the castle to get you out from under that tree.”
Folding in my lips, I think about how to respond. I try to sound casual. “It’s been good. Mostly. We get along pretty well.”
She huffs. “Really? That’s all you’re going to give me?”
I’ve been bursting at the seams to talk about this with someone, and since Paige is always at cheer practice, I guess I’m doing this with Baylee. “If you tell anyone other than Paige I said this, I swear I’ll hunt you down.”
“Oh, this has to be good.” She hops up and down in her seat.
“Just…” I glance at the kitchen. “You have to promise you won’t talk about this with anyone.”
