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“Because I’m a resident adviser. I recognize most of the kids from this dorm.”
“Still didn’t answer my question, though.” I smile, turning up the charm.
“Do you form all your questions as commands? Because I’m not sure how my boyfriend would feel about me giving another boy my number.”
“Damn.” I snap my fingers. “The good ones are always taken.”
“Please,” her eyes glitter with amusement, “I saw you talking with that pretty blonde when you came in.”
I arch a brow. “So, you admit you noticed me?”
Her cheeks pinken, but she plays it off with a roll of her eyes. “Hard not to notice.”
“You flatter me,” I say, pressing a hand to my chest. “Speaking of people who are hard not to notice, you know the girl in room one-twenty? She’s a little different . . . alternative?”
“Oh, you mean Creepy Cate?” Her eyes widen like the moon.
“That’d be the one. You see, my friend is rooming with her”—Andrea winces—“ and she’s about as straitlaced and innocentas they come, so I’m a little worried about her since she’s practically like a sister to me.” I lie just in case this chick decides to give me her digits after all. “Do you think you could keep your eyes and ears open for any trouble? Let me know if you hear of anything concerning, or if you find out she’s causing problems?”
“Sure, I could do that.”
“You’re a doll,” I say, pleased to see her cheeks flushed.
Sliding the visitor sign-in sheet out from in front of her, I scribble my name and number on it, then slide it back.
“You know, I think it’s kinda sweet, you looking out for her.”
“Well, I try, Andrea.” I tap the clipboard. “Here’s my number, in case you hear anything.” Then I take a step back. “And also, in case you change your mind or something happens to your boyfriend,” I say with a wink, and then I turn and leave.
Problem solved.
CHAPTER 3
JACE
The breath heaves inand out of my lungs like the rhythmic lashing of a whip.
“We are proud,” Coach Greene barks. “We are not just a team. We are bound by a common goal, excellence on and off the field.” Coach pauses on the sidelines, watching as we shift from skaters to squat thrust jumps. “What is our goal?” he shouts.
“Excellence, sir!” I yell along with everyone else.
Sweat drips in my eyes. I’m convinced somewhere in a third world country, squat thrust jumps must be used as a torture device for gathering intel.
“Training is the heartbeat of our success. It's not just about physical strength; it's about mental resilience, discipline, and the relentless pursuit of greatness,” Coach continues. “Every drill, every sprint, every moment of sweat and effort is an investment in yourself. Your teammates. And your dreams.”
The blow of the whistle pierces through the thumping heart in my chest. If it beats any harder, it might break my rib cage.
A collective groan moves through the field.
Several guys collapse into the fetal position on the turf while others moan and stand, stumbling into one giant congealed mass in front of Coach.
I straighten on rubbery legs, only bending forward at the waist for a moment to catch my breath. In front of us, Coach watches on like a sentinel, ready to lead his army to battle. Only there’s no war to be fought. Not yet.
It’s only summer conditioning and our first week, but apparently, instead of easing us into things, the coaches at AU prefer to throw you into the fire. The beginning of the week, we trained mostly in the weight room, but today is our first day on the field.
Coach’s gaze slowly slides over each one of us as he stands in front of us, his hands on his hips. “Football is a game of inches, but it's also a reflection of character. It's about pushing our limits, supporting our teammates, and learning from every victory and defeat. In the weight room, on the practice field, and in the classroom, we cultivate not just athletes but leaders who carry the spirit of our institution with them.”
He starts to move again, pacing the turf in front of us while sweat drips in my eyes. “Now is not the time to settle for mediocrity. Success is not given; it is earned through dedication, sacrifice, and a relentless work ethic. The pain of training is temporary, but the pride of accomplishment lasts a lifetime, which is why we’re not going to take it easy on you. It’s not our job to baby you. If you want someone to wipe your ass, ask your mother or your girlfriend. Otherwise, we’re here to create winners. Athletes. Men who don’t quit.”
