Page 68 of Fatality on the Field

I laugh, and the sound bounces off the tile and into the high ceiling. “Same, babe. Same.”

There’s a clomping noise, and I grin at the others as we realize what it means. Within moments, Lucas appears in a burst of energy, nearly body-checking the doorframe on the way in. His hair is damp from his shower and he’s half-dressed in a zip-up and athletic pants, with an SU hockey t-shirt stretched tight across his chest underneath. He clocks the food situation in one glance, then his smile doubles in wattage.

“Holy—dude! Is that what I think it is?” he says, already halfway across the floor with the precision of a giant predator.

Slade holds up a muffin in each hand for him. “Banana cream cheese nut muffins and coffee. There's enough to take some for snacks, too.”

“Oh hell yes,” the bear says and it’s so pure and heartfelt that Iggy actually looks up from his paper to grin at him. Lucas doesn’t miss a beat; he takes what’s offered and pours a brimming mug of coffee with his too-full hands. “Li will be down in a sec,” he adds, sitting with a bounce of happiness.

Kaspar lifts his mug in salute, and before we know it, there are soft footfalls on the stairs as my bear predicted. Liam appears in the doorway looking immaculate in a pressed shirt and dark-wash jeans. He surveys the kitchen, the coffee, the muffins, and then fixes a look on me that’s wicked as hell.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says. “How are we after that hellish day yesterday?”

Kaspar raises an eyebrow. “You’re running late, my prince.”

Liam shrugs, unbothered by his sideways snark. “Not enough to make a discernible difference, Kas. Don’t be an old fuddy-duddy.”

“No need to be grumpy when we have Slade’s muffins, dude. Chill out,” Lucas mumbles through a mouthful of messy muffin. “This is a fucking fab start to the day.”

Liam grins like a fox at his words, heading over to pour himself a cup from the pot. Since he can’t sit next to me, he takes the seat beside his other mate. “Exactly, cub. This is a bloody grand morning and we should all thank Slade for his efforts.”

“We were discussing plans for the day,” I say before the ribbing gets worse. I know guys love making each other squirm, but I never want anyone to feel hurt or lesser if it gets out of hand. “Kaspar says he’s snooping, and you all know the hell I have to look forward to. What about everyone else?”

Slade raises a finger, licking a bit of sugar from the tip. “I’m supposed to work a Beanery shift, conduct a few lessons, and then I have two classes near the end of day.”

“I have office hours, but I could move something around if needed. My only class is about the same time as Slade’s,” Ignatius says as he sips his coffee. “Just let me know if we need anything, because I’m stopping by the hospital first and then going to my office.”

Lucas leans in, a second muffin halfway to his mouth as he adds, “Unfortunately, rather than go to the hospital, I’ll be at practice and then three classes. But if you need muscle, I can meet you wherever. The professors usually give athletes leeway when we’re in season, and I’m good at making up excuses that sound good.”

“You do not need to skip any classes unless necessary, cub,” Liam says firmly. “We want you to appear to be keeping your nose clean and people seeing you do normal shit will help with that.”

Lucas winks at me, then at our prince. “If you guys say so, I’ll obey.”

Cheeky little bear after sex, isn’t he?

I let myself bask in the comfortable camaraderie for a moment—a brief, earned reprieve before whatever the day brings. Eventually, the clock on the stove ticks over, and Kaspar stands to gather his things.

“I’m leaving in five,” he says as he looks at Liam. “Be ready.”

Lucas pushes away from the table with a contented sigh, as he stretches his arms overhead and nods. “I’ll give you a ride then, Slade, since the prof is going to the city. Work for you?”

Slade makes a sound that could be a laugh or a snort. “I’ll even fix you a travel pack in trade.”

“Time for me to go as well, but I’ll fly from my balcony. Don’t forget to keep your phones charged and on you, guys. We have no idea what kind of shit our stalkers will throw at us next and I hate being caught with my pants down outside of my bedroom.” Winking at them, I walk my cup over to the sink and hand out a few good-bye kisses before I head upstairs to grab my things and take flight.

Even if the rest of the day goes to shit, this was a morning I won’t forget—not ever—and I want a thousand more just like it.

forty-two

LIAM

If you want to see the true nature of a campus, go out before most people are awake.

The student ‘town’ at State U has a morning rhythm and all its own scents—burnt espresso from The Beanery, the leftover tinge of yesterday’s crowds, new-cut banner vinyl for the Bowl game, and the fresh bite of winter snow. I take the path to Hartwell’s About Tome with quick steps, as I intend to do quite a bit today. It’s not open yet, so I sit on the bench nearby and stretch out my long legs. I’m sure I look like a wayward poetry PhD student, but in reality, I’m watching every movement in the surrounding area.

The Bowl game’s precedence is already warping the orbits of everything on campus despite Morgana and Channing’s panic. As I sit, the grounds crew drags out folding tables and rolls up their shirt sleeves as they wrestle enormous mascot cutouts, and then pause to bicker about which side faces the main road. Across the stone path, two bleary undergrads in fleece pajama bottoms cradle coffees the size of fire hydrants, letting me know that Slade beat me here. I watch them scan the row of closed storefronts grumpily. The moment they spot the crew prepping the Bowl merch tent, they disperse like iron filings to a magnet. I note the tent is being draped with a single massive banner that screams ‘State U Roars To Victory’ on it.

Chuckling to myself, I turn from the kids struggling to get a peek at whatever the school is going to sell. There’s a delivery van pulling up and once it unloads, the two kids start bouncing. The load is bursting with boxes and banners to continue the setup. I don’t get this obsession with sports that aren’t professional-level, especially at schools, but I know that if it were the cub’s team, I’d support it without question. So instead of snarking internally, I simply let go of my admittedly intellectually snooty opinions to look at my watch.