Molly Shakespeare was going to kill me.

7

Fayetteville, Arkansas

“Shit, Bullet, that chick can’t take her eyes off you!” Reece said excitedly.

Lifting my head from my beer, I checked out the attractive blonde, catching her inviting smile but shaking my head in dismissal.

Jimmy-Don put his hand to my head, pretending to check my temperature. “You feeling all right?”

With a smile, I said, “Yeah, just not interested.”

“You sure you’re all right?” This time he was serious. His mouth gaped open and he stared at me in shock. I just nodded my head slowly in response and tapped my beer to his, laughing.

“How can you not be interested in that? She’s a freakin’ goddess!” Reece complained, getting up off the couch, walking across the room and trying his luck with the blonde.

“Fifty bucks says she knocks him back,” Austin said with a smile as he nudged my arm.

“Hell, she ain’t going to touch him. She’s a nine. He’s… not. I’d just be giving my money away taking that bet.”

Jimmy-Don shuffled forward on the couch, hand held out. “Hey now, give him a chance. He’ll be first-string QB next year. Heck, Rome, he’ll be you! I’ll take the bet… from you both.”

The three of us sat back and watched Reece as he strutted up to the blonde, cocky as all shit. She glanced over his shoulder at me, but whatever Reece said had her slumping where she stood and her “fuck me” smile falling off her face.

He worked the talk good, whispering in her ear, touching her cheek and her bare arm with his fingers.

Austin gaped at me, clearly thinking the same thought: the little f**ker was in.

The blonde ran her hand down his chest, then, taking his hand, began leading him out of the room. Reece glanced back at us, the biggest damn grin on his face, and then disappeared upstairs.

“Whew! I knew it!” Jimmy-Don howled and, facing Austin and me, said, “Pay up, bitches!” with a shit-eating grin.

Shaking my head, I reached into my pocket, pulling out a fifty, Austin doing the same, and we each slapped it into Jimmy-Don’s outstretched hand. “I never thought I’d see the day when he scored on his own.”

“He’s been watching you—on the field, off the field—like a damn hawk. He’s gonna be friggin’ dangerous next year,” Jimmy-don said jokingly and moved off the couch to join some of our teammates heading to the backyard for food.

We were at a house party courtesy of one of the players’ cousins from the Hogs. It was the usual—pussy on demand, liquor flowing—but what was unusual was that I didn’t have an ounce of f**king interest in any of it, too busy wondering what Molly was up to back home, too busy wondering if she’d seen my shit show of a game.

I’d just about given up trying to rid her from my mind.

Austin got up to get more beer, and a few minutes later, the couch cushion dipped next to me, signaling his return. Tossing me another bottle, he asked, “You okay?”

I nodded, biting off the cap with my teeth before taking a long swig.

“You’ll get your form back, you know. You’re just having an off start to the season.”

“Off start? Fuck. I can’t play no more. Nothing I try goes right. I overshot my pass to you today by about five yards,” I muttered sullenly.

“Shut up, Rome. You’re the best damn player in the state, hell, the country. You’re just going through too much and can’t leave that baggage outta the game.”

“How do you know what I’m going through?”

Austin shrugged. “Seen you like this before, when you took the football scholarship at UA. Your daddy almost beat you into hospital, and you, the sadistic f**ker you are, just let him.”

That memory was hard to forget. I’d gone home straight from my game to tell my daddy I’d accepted a scholarship with the Tide. Coach had been coming to some of my senior games in high school and when we took state, he offered me a place at UA on the spot. It was one of the happiest days of my life. That was until I told my daddy. I think he’d always assumed I’d eventually come around to his way of thinking, would eventually give up all the football crap and follow in his footsteps and go into the family business. But he didn’t understand the passion I had for the game, never did, and that’s where our present issues began.

The minute I told him I’d gotten a full scholarship, he’d snapped. I remember realizing at that moment that he was never going to let me lead my own life. And f**k knows why, but I stood before my irate father, the stocky man throwing punch after punch… and I took every one. Smiled at him through each blow. Then, bloodied and beaten, packed my shit and slept on Austin’s floor for several weeks before having to go back home to wait out the rest of the year. I avoided my folks for months, stayed well out of their way, living mostly in the old cabin on their land, then left for summer training camp with the Tide and never looked back.

Snapping back to the present, metal music booming through the speakers, I said, “There was no point in fighting back. I’d learned that just made it worse.”

“So what’s up now? He still trying to stop you from entering the draft?”

“Yeah, nothing new there.” I huffed out a tired laugh. “But now he wants me to marry Shelly. I refused, of course, haven’t spoken to him since, but I know he won’t give up.” I glanced at the bottle in my hands and said, “Nothing ever changes for us, eh, brother?”