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9
Taran glanced around the dingy hallway of the apartment complex Clayton called home during the school year. She thought, considering who Clayton’s family was, he would have had better digs. She double-checked the address Sean had texted to her and knocked on apartment 301. It was a third-floor walkup in a rundown building just off campus.
The door was opened by a man who could have been the dictionary picture of the word huge. His black eyes were just about even with the doorjamb, and he had to duck to look through the opening.
“Jermane?” Taran asked. Having done her research, she knew Clayton’s roommate’s name without having to check her notes. Although she would have recognized him anywhere with the way the TikTok video of him and Clayton dancing to “I’ll Be Missing You” had taken off, encouraged by the fact that most of the Evans family had jumped on board to duet it, going all-in on the war for the most views.
“Sup.” The single syllable seemed to say: Who are you? What do you want? And How do you know me? All at the same time.
She reached her hand out to the tank in front of her. “Taran Murphy, Sports Illustrated.”
Jermane shook her hand and smiled. “Ga-erl, I thought you were a co-ed.” He laughed, and his whole body shook.
Taran smiled. Jermane had one of those contagious laughs.
“Is that Taran?” Clayton called from behind the huge mass that was Jermane.
“Yeah, and dude, she could be Phi-Beta Kappa,” he answered with a whistle Taran took as a compliment. He opened the door in a gesture that said come in.
The apartment was exactly what you would picture for two college guys. Empty beer bottles and dirty dishes cluttered the room filled with a mismatched mess of what had to be secondhand furniture. Again, Taran was surprised at the normalcy of the would-be first-round draft pick’s apartment.
After her quick scan of the apartment, Taran met Clayton’s gaze. “Taran Murphy,” she said, holding her hand out to the young heartthrob.
He was six and a half feet of perfection. If she was a few years younger and not constantly thinking about another guy who kissed like fire, she’d be in trouble. The blond hair and baby blues were the stuff of fairy-tale princes, and she realized he looked like a better version of his older brother Danny.
She watched Clayton glare at his roommate. “Dude, I told you she’s taken.”
“Huh?” Taran asked.
Jermane smirked as he shrugged, sending her a wink.
Clayton’s gaze turned sweet as he turned to her. “No worries,” he assured her. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve been hearing about you all week.” His smile could melt a teenage girl into a puddle.
“Have you?”
“I don’t know if you heard but my family is chatty. It’s fun when they aren’t talking about me,” Clayton assured her.
Ah. Although she hadn’t seen or heard from Corey since Sunday, she guessed the Evans family hadn’t forgotten her.
“I’m surprised they aren’t talking about you. A few weeks until the draft, and you aren’t the topic of every conversation?” Taran tried to steer this back where it belonged. She was there to learn about him, not be part of his story.
He shrugged. “They’ll all be there on draft day. But in a family as big as mine, there’s so much going on; it’s hard to harp on any one person.”
In no way was it a complaint. It almost seemed like he couldn’t understand how his being drafted into the NFL—as the possible first pick—was anything close to a big deal.
“Plus, my brother’s getting married this week, so all the attention is on the bride and groom.” Clayton smirked. “If Corey hadn’t brought you home last week, it would be wedding all day every day in the Evans news cycle.”
“I think they might be making too big a deal about that,” Taran replied.
Clayton laughed. “You don’t understand a big family news cycle if you think they’re making a big deal out of you.”
Taran frowned. She was very familiar with a family’s news cycle. Being the youngest of three, she had plenty of experience. She knew Corey was close with the Evanses and Demodas, but she’d had no idea he was one of them. But after spending one night with the family, it was clear. Corey wasn’t a friend; he was an Evans. It was surprising that he could hide that from the press as well as he did. And it would be a great “In Case You Didn’t Know” about Corey because no one had any idea.
Taran shook her head. This was supposed to be about Clayton, and she needed to focus. “I’m the youngest of three. I understand a nosy family better than you think.”
Clayton’s eyebrows rose. “Totally sucks to be the baby, huh?”
That she could agree with.
