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“Put me down, you idiot. You’re going to injure something.”
Noah plucked her off Mac as if she were Eva’s size, setting her on the ground. “Welcome to the team.”
A bunch of the other guys came by to say the same thing until Coach shooed us off the field. I couldn’t help but feel pride at the way they accepted her, but inside, I wanted them to leave us alone.
Not that I knew what I wanted to say.
Riley veered off to the women’s locker room, and for a fraction of a second, I considered following her. Under no circumstances would my presence in there be a good idea. Just the thought had my dick paying attention, and no one wanted a hard-on while showering with a bunch of dudes.
Besides, I knew where she lived.
* * *
Despite borderline stalkerishbehavior at the apartment, I wasn’t able to catch Riley coming or going. I could have grown some balls and knocked on their door, but that made the gesture feel too purposeful.
As much as I loved Eva, I didn’t want her getting involved in anything between me and Riley. I couldn’t afford the trouble she’d inevitably cause.
By Wednesday afternoon, I’d stopped compulsively checking Mac’s phone after every beep. Mostly because he’d given me access to Eva’s door cam app too. Neither of us ever intended to tell her, but Noah started casting suspicious looks our way when we quickly put our phones down every time he entered the room.
I wasn’t looking forward to that come to Jesus talk. Noah didn’t say much, but he had strong opinions about privacy. Luckily, I had a class on Wednesday afternoon which would keep me busy until practice.
After cancelling on Monday, the prof had sent out assignments for us to complete before today, but I’d been busy watching my phone. I wasn’t worried. This class was an easy humanities credit with a sympathetic professor, meaning she’d give me some slack as long as the work got turned in eventually.
The room was in the psych building on the other side of campus from the sports facilities, an older section that hadn’t been updated in a while. I didn’t spend much time there, but I frowned at the stark differences between the crumbling architecture and the sleek new football training center.
I opened a creaky door on the second floor to a small auditorium. A couple of people waved at me as I walked in, but I didn’t recognize any of them. The hazards of being the starting quarterback at a D1 school—everyone felt like they owned a part of me.
The warning from last spring floated through my mind.You’re the face of the football team. We expect you to act the part and be a role model for your fellow students.I snorted internally as I waved back. The administration didn’t give a flying fuck about role models. They wanted me to be a good little puppet and help them bring in more money.
As long as their stipulations didn’t hurt my chances of playing, I’d do as they asked. I had two more years of eligibility, and I wanted to use them. My family was proud of my football accomplishments, but they’d impressed onto me the importance of an education too. I’d graduate with a degree to prepare for the day—hopefully a long time from now—when I’d have to hang up my cleats.
Like so many things on this side of campus, these rooms weren’t meant for football players. Tiny seats sat practically on top of each other with a joke of a desk attached. I picked a spot in the back row so I could stretch my legs into the aisle without getting in anyone’s way.
The prof hadn’t arrived yet, so I pulled my hat low over my head and people watched. After the initial interest in my entrance, the other students had gone back to chatting with each other. I recognized a few of them from other sports teams, not surprising since this class was well known as the easiest way to fulfill the requirement.
No other football players though. Unusual since the class was only offered in the fall semester. Mac and Noah had taken it already, but I’d put it off until this year when I knew I’d need an easier load.
Right as the clock ticked over to start time, a slim woman in a pencil skirt and heels strode into the room. She was maybe mid-forties with short ashy blonde hair and a very pale complexion, probably from the flu or whatever she’d had. I could see the dark circles under her eyes from the other side of the room.
“I’m Professor Declann. Welcome to Human Sexuality.” She paused and smiled at the giggles from the front row. “I apologize for Monday, but when your body says to rest, you should rest. You didn’t miss much because the first day is usually about getting to know each other anyway. We’ll skip the awkward ice breakers and jump into the syllabus I asked you to read. You may want to take notes.”
I didn’t bother getting anything out of my backpack. The syllabus had been one of three attachments to her email that I’d ignored. About half of the class seemed to be of the same mind because they didn’t move. I was pretty sure the guy in the corner buried in his hoodie was already asleep.
She continued as if she didn’t notice the lack of interest. “This semester we’ll be discussing—”
A loud squeal interrupted her sentence as the door swung open. Professor Declann frowned at the latecomer, and I got that same buzz I’d had at practice. I sat up straighter in my seat with a good idea of who had just shown up.
As expected, Riley slunk into the room with a mumbled apology. She’d piled her hair onto her head in a messy bun that defied gravity. A black tank top hugged her slight curves, and her long legs were on display in cutoff shorts. For once, I was thankful for the Texas heat. The prof didn’t respond other than to shake her head and launch back into her lecture.
Riley’s eyes scanned the room, then widened slightly when they landed on me. I wasn’t sure my half-assed apology would be enough to change my bad first impression, but I hoped so. At practice, I’d been able to mostly separate Riley the receiver from Riley the woman, but she didn’t look like a football player right now. She looked like my deepest fantasy come to life.
When she started in my direction, I told my dick to calm the fuck down. Friends. We were supposed to be friends.
She scooted past me to take the next seat and sat angled away from me to stretch out in the space beside her. Unlike me and most of the class, she immediately pulled several sheets of paper, a notebook, and a pen from her bag.
I leaned closer so my voice wouldn’t carry down to the prof. “Is being late a regular thing for you?”
“Only since I moved to Texas,” she muttered back.
