AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Go,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “Obviously, you’d rather be with Piper, anyway.”
Xavier stands up and crosses the room in three long strides, pausing at the door. “I… Nevermind.” He yanks the door open so hard it bangs against the wall and storms out without another word.
And he never speaks to me again.
Chapter one
Cruz
“Push from your chest, not your hips,” my teammate, Jagger, says as he straddles his best friend Cameron on the incline press next to me, using his body weight to keep his friend’s hips from moving.
“I’m pretty sure sitting on your clients’ laps isn’t an approved method of teaching good form,” Cameron grunts over the clang of weights around us.
“That’s why I’m studying athletic training, dumbass.” Jagger puts his fingers under Cameron’s triceps to give him an extra little nudge with the weight. “Besides, you’re my best friend, not my client, so rules don’t apply.”
“Best friend isn’t code for help yourself to a seat on my dick.” Cameron grits through another rep.
“Please,” Jagger snorts. “We both know you’d be the bottom.”
Something between a chuckle and cry passes through my lips as I finish my last rep and drop my dumbbells to the ground with a clang. Fortunately, they interpret it as laughter.
“And you wonder why people think we’re boyfriends.” Cameron racks the bar while rolling his eyes at Jagger, who makes no move to get off him.
“Big party tonight, Cruz. Want to come with? Blow off a little steam.” Jagger waggles his brows.
It’s the weekend before classes start, and while the football team has been here for months already, the rest of the students are only just now getting to campus. After weeks upon weeks of two-a-day training, everyone’s anxious to get a taste of the party scene that inevitably comes with more bodies. Well, mostly everyone.
I shake my arms out, getting ready for my next set. “If I get done moving, yeah.”
“You were serious about switching to the honors dorm?” Cam accepts the water bottle Jagger hands him and takes a quick gulp. “Why?”
The three of us, along with the rest of our underclass teammates, have been staying in what’s dubbed the athletic dorm over the summer. The university encourages all athletes to live there during their first year, although it’s not required, and based on how rowdy things got over the summer, even with only a fraction of the student body in town, I’m making the right decision.
“I’m here to play ball and study,” I reply.
“You can’t do both in our dorm?” Jagger and Cam switch places, minus the sitting on each other thing since Jagger has great form on the incline press.
“Not as well,” I answer. “How many nights were we up until midnight, or one, even though we had practice at seven?”
Admittedly, most of that time was spent playing video games, not drinking or doing other stupid shit, because two-a-days are brutal, and no one wants to be hungover for those. Still, despite the grueling practices this is the closest most of us have been to real freedom, so no one was as disciplined as they probably should’ve been. Including me. But I’m under no illusions that I’m a shoo-in for the NFL—most college players aren’t—which means my grades have to be on point, and not just for my scholarship.
If I’m not one of the lucky ones who make the NFL, my future will look a lot like my dad’s. That’s not a bad thing per se—he’s got a small auto repair shop that keeps us stable though not quite comfortable—and growing up around cars means I’m already pretty knowledgeable about them. I’d like to do more than repair them though, maybe design and engineer them, hence my need for good grades. And the relocation to the honors dorm.
You need a three-point-eight GPA to live there, and I’m banking that people who pulled that are a little more prone to good study habits than the guys here to play ball. Nothing against my teammates. So far, they all seem like great guys—especially these two. They work hard and don’t take themselves too seriously. But I’d feel much better about my ability to keep my grades up if I’m surrounded by people who are here for a degree as opposed to a sport.
“We didn’t have any classes over the summer,” Cam says as Jagger pumps out his reps. “It’ll be different when school is in session.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrug and pick up the dumbbells, pressing them above my head to work my shoulders. “I’d rather not risk it though. I’m expecting my classes to be pretty tough, and I don’t want any distractions.”
“We’re gonna have tough classes too,” Cam insists. “I heard biology’s a bitch, and we both need that.”
“What’s your major again?”
“I’m athletic training.” Jagger racks the bar with a grunt and jerks his head toward Cameron. “And he’s physical therapy.”
“Those are tough,” I concede as I drop the weights to the floor. “You two must have better study habits than me.”
“Doubtful. But we’re pretty good at keeping each other in line.” Jagger holds his fist to Cam, who presses their knuckles together. “Enough school talk. We have two days before classes start, and we’ve earned a break. Ideally one that includes a little female action. My fist isn’t cutting it anymore.”
