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The cheer squad broke into a sideline celebration and I smothered a groan.
“Hey, turn that frown upside down.” Jordan nudged my shoulder.
“They’re just so obvious.” I heard them talk about Jason, watched them lust over him despite the fact everyone knew he was off the market.
“Please tell me you’re not worried about the likes of Shelly and Farrah?”
“She wants him.” Shelly Halstead had wanted Jason since the first day he stepped foot on campus.
“Half the girls here want him.”
My lips pressed into a thin line, but Jordan only laughed.
“He loves you; everyone can see that. You have nothing to worry about.”
I liked Jordan. She was one of my few girlfriends here. It wasn’t that I’d purposefully avoided making friends during freshman year, just it was hard when your boyfriend was the new football star. Girls either looked at me as the competition or they were brazened enough to try to use me as a steppingstone to get to Jason and his friends. I’d quickly given up trying to form genuine friendships. I had Jordan and Mya, and I spoke to Hailee all the time despite the nine-hour distance between us.
“It’s just... a lot,” I whispered the confession, hating myself for even saying the words.
Jason gave me no reason to worry. He was unwavering in his love for me. But as I watched the team celebrate; watched the cheer squad lick their lips and bat their eyelashes in his direction; listened to thousands of people chant his name; I couldn’t help but think the very thing he loved would one day be the thing that drove a wedge between us.
Jason was going places.
And I barely had my head above water.
Jordan pulled me into a side hug. “You and Jason are endgame, Fee. I see the way he watches you, the way he tracks your every move. That guy is head over heels in love with you. All this: football, the crowds, the high; it would mean nothing if he didn’t have you by his side.”
As if he heard her words, as if he felt the doubt swirling around me like a storm cloud, Jason looked up, searching the bleachers for me. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his helmet, but I felt them.
And I couldn’t ever imagine not feeling them.
The party was wild. But there was something about winning the first game of the season that had everyone worked up. Jordan and I lingered on the periphery with a couple of the other girlfriends, sipping our sugary sweet mixed drinks, while Jason, Gio, Griffin, and a handful of their othe
r friends took shots.
“Okay, okay, let me get up here.” Griffin jumped up on the huge breakfast island and ushered the crowd into silence. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we were all fucking bummed when Coach gave us the news about Linc. But I think I can also speak for everyone here when I say we never doubted Jason would be there to pick up the pieces.” He fixed his eyes on Jase and raised his beer in the air. “I’m proud to call you my friend, man, but I’m even prouder to call you my captain. And I know... I just fucking know, you’re going to take us all the way this season.”
The room exploded with cheers and hollers, quickly turning into chants of, “Speech, speech.”
Jason cleared his throat, looking more than a little displeased at Griffin’s little stunt. “Those of you who know me, know I’m a private guy, so I’m going to keep this short. Linc is a good guy, one of the best. He took me under his wing last year and guided me right, and for that, I owe him. I’m fucking honored to lead the team in his stead. To Linc.” He tipped his beer forward and nodded at his rapt audience.
“Linc.” The name echoed through the room, a somber reminder of how fragile this life could be. How, one minute, you could be on the cusp of football greatness only to have it all ripped away in the blink of an eye. Or, in Linc’s case, a simple wrong landing during a basketball game with his younger brothers.
Jason’s eyes found mine across the kitchen, and he stalked toward me.
“We’re going to dance,” Jordan announced, shooting me a knowing glance.
I gave them a small wave, heat coursing through my veins as Jason drank me in. I was wearing skinny jeans and a fitted Quaker tank top, no different than half the girls here. But the way he looked at me... it was as if I was the only girl he could see.
The only girl he wanted to see.
“Hey.” He crowded me against the counter.
“Hey.” I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Jason would always bring out the best and worst of me. “Nice speech.”
“You know I fucking hate doing that.”
“I know.” I ran my fingers over his jaw. He didn’t resemble a twenty-year-old sophomore. He was all man. Tall, broad, and muscular with a five o’clock shadow over his angular jaw, Jason had graduated Rixon a boy on the verge of adulthood and matured into a confident, self-assured guy who knew without doubt what he wanted from life.
