I wouldn’t be with a guy who treated me second. Not to a team of jocks.
“I’m, um… not feeling well,” I said, not looking at Zeb. “I have to go.”
I stepped down and headed toward the front door. “Cammie, wait. What the hell just happened?”
I walked, trying to push past people. “Nothing. Definitely nothing.”
“Wait.” He took my arm and spun me around.
“Let me go.”
He dropped his hand immediately.
“Wilder!” someone shouted. “Get your ass over here! We need you for beer pong.”
Zeb turned and I saw behind him it was Nick, the guy from outside the locker room who I learned was also one of his roommates. With him was another guy I didn’t know, and Trout.
“You’re on Trout’s team,” Nick called, tossing a little ping pong ball to Trout.
He caught it and gave me a smarmy grin.
That did it. I thought I was on Team Zeb, but really, he was already on a team.
I turned and fled.
11
ZEB
I fucked up.I knew it the second I saw Trout approach my girl when she came down the stairs. I shouldn’t have left her alone. If I’d been there, Trout wouldn’t have gotten in her face.
I had no idea what they’d been talking about, but I hadn’t liked the look of fear in Cammie’s eyes. Trout said something that scared her.
I hated the guy. Ever since freshman year when we lived on the same floor in the same dorm. He was a dick. Treated girls like shit. Felt like he was better than anyone else. The fact that he played football like hewas on the way to the pros only inflated his ego even bigger.
He was also from Devil’s Ditch. We hadn’t gone to high school together; he’d been shipped to some fancy boarding school in Vermont or New Hampshire, just like his older brother Rocky, which was short for Rockford or something equally stupid. His father owned the Two Rivers Ranch and was a total dick. The list of things the Trout family–or friends of theirs–had done to people I cared about was as long as my arm. I didn’t trust any of them, but if I wanted to keep playing ball, I had to deal with Chase because he was a really good player.
I could handle him, but no way was I letting him anywhere near my girl.
When I got over to them, Trout was allbrothis andbrothat. He’d said Cammie saw him at the stadium, but had been mistaken. So? I wanted to hear what she had to say, to know her side of the story because if he’d done something to her… touched her… he was gonna die.
But he’d pulled the stupid team bullshit and I couldn’t piss off the best wide receiver on the team. I needed him, so did the entire team, if we were going to keep winning games. I couldn’t piss him off because he had a hair trigger as it was.
So when I didn’t answer his question about who I believed and tossed him a compliment to keep him from losing his shit, I’d messed up.
Something happened between my girl and Trout earlier in the day. Something enough for him to confront her. To have him make me pick sides knowing that if I chose wrong, he was gonna fuck up our chances at another run to a bowl game. And it would be my fault. The entire team, with all their hard work over the past few months would pay the price.
Then I got called to play beer pong, the dumbass game where players bounced a stupid ping pong ball into loaded beer cups and drank. And I’d been stuck with Trout as a partner. I lasted ten minutes before I grabbed Nixon, a tight end, to cover my spot.
Then I left. Headed right for Van Hoff Hall and Cammie. Because while I had to play stupid-ass politics when it came to my football team, I wasn’t fucking around with her.
12
CAMMIE
I cried in bed,my comforter wrapped up and around my head. Rose was still at the party. I’d texted her I came back to the dorm so she wouldn’t rush back. Not only because I knew she and Angela and Faith would have a good time, but because I wanted to be alone.
Who wouldn’t when a guy you thought was really into you was into football more? I knew there were sports fanatics out there, but this was different.
