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I roll my eyes and fall back on my stack of pillows and laundry.
“Apparently the ass kicking I got for forty-eight minutes yesterday was courtesy of this guy Brooklyn knows.”
Theo lifts a brow.
“What guy?” he asks.
“ColeI-Wear-Boots-With-Everything-burg, or something like that.”
“Masterson? Oh, ha! That fuck!” Theo claps a few times through hard laughter. “Yeah, I know him. I didn’t know he went to Lipson. Wait . . . he doesn’t play, does he? He’s not really a football guy. I mean, I threw a frisbee to him once and it cut open his eyelid.”
I laugh at the visual, but only for half a second before my head throbs. I plant my fists on both temples and push lightly to relieve the pressure.
“He doesn’t play. Brooklyn and I ran into him when we were at this coffee shop downtown during our internships. I guess he had a thing for her, and I was standing in line next to her, so I became target number one or some shit.”
“That’s why you had the black eye and busted lip . . . I mean before these new ones,” Theo says, amused by his stupid joke.
“Ha ha,” I overexaggerate. “But yes, Cole and I had a little bit of atalk.”
“He kicked your fucking ass, didn’t he?” Theo’s smug grin pisses me off, so I zing the bottle of Tylenol back at him. It bounces off one of his pecs.
“I got him pretty good, too,” I defend. My friend responds with a poorly muffled laugh.
“I’m sure,” he finally says. His face clearly indicates he’s lying out his ass.
“Aren’t you leaving or something?” I grumble.
Theo screws up his face and studies me for a beat before moving his bag to the side and sitting down across from me.
“Real time. What does Cole Masterson have to do with you and Brooklyn, and what is really going on? No judgement, I swear. But I can’t give you good advice if I’m missing pieces of the story.”
His serious glare wears me down after a few seconds. I blow out, vibrating my lips and layering my forearms over my eyes.
“It’s always been Brooklyn. And don’t pretend you don’t know that. I know who I am, and I’m not that guarded about how I interact with people. I’ve been an idiot around her since the day we met.”
“This is true,” Theo agrees. I move my arm and peer at him with one eye, but his expression is sincere. He’s not making fun of me.
“We started talking a lot, and things sort of just . . . happened. It’s so easy with her, bro. Like we could talk for hours, and I feel like myself with her. Maybe that sounds dumb, but—”
“It’s not dumb. I get it,” he cuts me off.
I flop my arms to my side and lift my head to meet his eyes.
“Her dad came to see me.”
His face falls, his eyes hazing as he leans back on his palms and drops his chin to his chest.
“Fuck. Really?”
I nod.
“He was at the game. Came into the locker room after you all left. Told me not to see his daughter.”
“Shit, man. What did you say?”
A short laugh puffs my lips and Theo tilts his head to the side.
“Cam, no . . . you didn’t.”
