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Harper, Hagan, and I sit on the green leather tufted couch with big, rolled arms. Logan throws an interception with seven minutes left in the game and Kentucky’s down by three. He comes over to the sideline and throws his helmet. I’ve never seen him lose control as a friend or on the field. Mac walks over pats him on the back and the camera zooms in on them. They exchange words. I’m not a lip reader but it appeared that Logan said, “Where the fuck were you?” Mac points down to his feet but turns with his back to the camera as his arms flail.
Patrick and Avery aren’t the only ones watching intently, Archer is too. Logan told me, if he decides to go pro after the season that he wants Archer to be his agent.
Suddenly, Harper yells, “Yes!” The defense caused a fumble. Logan and Mac put their helmets back on, jogging back onto the field. Logan taps Mac’s helmet, and the previous play is forgotten. They’re on the same team and roommates.
They march down the field and score on a forty-eight yard pass from Logan to Mac and win the game. The sideline reporter interviews both of the star players. Harper leans over to me and says, “Is he this sexy all the time? Umm, the sweat, the longish, matted hair he pushes behind his ear…and everything about him!”
I slowly turn to face her, and by the expression on her face, she’s not kidding. “No. He’s annoying as fugg, all cocky like everyone wants him,” I whisper, knowing Hagan would go all alpha brother.
Harper bumps my shoulder. “Well, I’m sure every woman does.” Then she snickers.
Every girl on campus wants him and some have gotten lucky.
Archer says, “We’re linking them up on satellite. Mac wants to talk to Patrick.” We wait so Patrick and Hagan can talk to Mac, but when the satellite link comes on, it’s Mac and Logan.
Mac jumps up and down in excitement. “Did ya’ll see my boy? A perfect spiral for a touchdown. He’s going number one in the draft.”
Like a proud papa, Patrick says, “We did but you had to catch it and you flew down the sideline. Congratulations, now go celebrate with your friends.”
Logan envelops Mac. His sandy blond hair drips with sweat. Hagan says, “It got ugly for a minute, but you pulled it off. Congrats roomies.”
Logan winks and swipes his hair from his face. “I think everyone should come to the SEC championship game. Goodluck tomorrow. Win this on your home field.” Then he pauses. “Hey Callaghan, thanks for sending your cousin here to play with me and for bringing Hagan along. I couldn’t ask for better roommates and friends.”
Harper digs her fingers into my arms, mumbling, “And humble. He’s fucking humble.”
He’s a good guy but humble isn’t the exact description I would give.
Hagan pulls me into him, kissing me on the cheek. “And thank you for making me go to the party. And for asking her to pick you up. I never thanked you for that.”
“What are best friends for?” Logan responds. Hagan smiles and I can’t tear my gaze from his profile. He’s the perfect combination of sexy athlete and boy next door.
“Safe trip guys. We’ll see you Sunday night.”
For some reason, I feel like I have a family that I’ve made on my own. A family of friends and Hagan’s family. I can’t wait to tell Hagan that I feel the same way he does, but I want to do something special.
ChapterThirty-Six
Hagan
It’s gettingcold on the job site. Adalee and I are here twice as much now that we took on a leadership role. Our project analysis is due the week after Thanksgiving to give the company and the professors time to look them over. If you come up with the option that they’ve already decided on then it will be an automatic eighty percent. But eighty percent doesn’t help you graduate with ropes and summa cum laude. The other twenty percent is in your cost analysis.
Joe rides home with us today because we’re going on a double date tonight with our girls. We stayed the night at their apartment a few times over the past couple of weeks. We cook together. Well, Joe and I cook, and the ladies bake us cookies and brownies that we have to work off and neither of us mind our exercise routines—at all.
Tonight, we’re taking them to an upscale Italian place downtown. It’s a surprise for Ginger’s birthday before the Thanksgiving weekend.
When we get to the apartment, Adalee and I take a nap. We’ve fallen into a routine where we nap together before we have practice. Luckily, both of us have a few days off, so we can sleep until it’s time to dress for dinner. I love her soft purrs as she sleeps. We start off spooning, but she always rolls onto her stomach and hikes her leg up over my waist.
I wake her up with a nudge. “Babe, I have something I want to try.”
“Okay...”
“We shouldn’t waste your flexibility. You may not always be this bendable.” I flash her my dimples, which she says is comparable to a toddler giggling—irresistible.
It takes her a few minutes but then she’s game. It’s another reason I love her so much. She’s willing to experiment to find out what both of us want and enjoy.
She hasn’t said she loves me, but she does. Adalee expresses it to me every day, just not in words. She’s found a family in mine. Harper calls or texts her almost every day. And when I ask her what they talk about she just laughs and says, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Some things are between girls.”
The sex with Adalee feels different than it has before. I can’t say it’s a position or an angle because that’s not it at all. We’re just two middle pieces of a puzzle that found their way to each other. We’re not a corner or an edge, we’re everything in the center that makes the picture complete.
