Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
She looks over her shoulder. “Who?”
“Nobody. It doesn’t matter. Thanks for this.” I lift my beer and stalk away, but my mind is still on … him.
Nah, he couldn’t be here. It’s because Brady mentioned him, and this guy had the same color hair but not the same style. It wasn’t shaggy around his ears but short and neat. I just … those gray eyes.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
I’m not going there again.
The summer after he graduated was a confusing time for me. I didn’t know if I was running from my hookup with a guy because it was a guy or because of the rejection from Levi.
It wasn’t so much that I was worried I was bad at gay sex, though that factored in there for a while. Then I overanalyzed the sex I’ve had with girls and if they didn’t like it as much as I did, and yeah, I went down that torturous rabbit hole until I read every article I possibly could about being good in bed. And okay, watched porn. A lot of porn. Turns out porn isn’t so helpful in the “getting better at sex” category, but it’s funner than reading about sex.
I reluctantly came to the conclusion that hooking up with Levi was a touchy spot for me because I thought I had a connection with him, which … he obviously didn’t return. That’s the thing I got hung up on.
I decided then and there to let it go, but every time Brady mentions my one gay hookup, I’m hit with a seed of doubt again.
My brother doesn’t realize he’s doing it. I tell Brady everything, but this … this is something I don’t want to talk to anyone about. Not because I’m ashamed of it—it’s not a secret I hooked up with a guy in high school—but because, well, if I told my brother or my dads what happened, they’d probably encourage me to explore my feelings and join Grindr to experiment, when everyone knows the healthiest way to deal with confusion and uncertainty is to squash it deep down and pretend it doesn’t exist.
I make it back to our table, but Felix is gone, and only my brother remains. “Did I scare off your friend?”
“He went to play with his boyfriend.” Brady nods toward the bar. “That still going on with you two?”
“Nope. We’re just friends now.” I sip my beer and lick my lips, but my gaze still roams the room, trying to find someone I’m convinced my mind manifested on its own.
“She still looks at you like she wants to jump your bones. Or your boner, at least.”
“Does she?” I turn my head to look back at Casey, but she’s busy working.
“You don’t need the distraction. Especially this season. If you want to be the number one draft pick, you have to think with your head and not your dick.”
“Hey, that rhymes. It sounds like a Dr. Seuss lesson.”
“So, say it with me. If you want to be the number one draft pick …”
I sigh. “Think with my head and not my dick. Got it.”
“Good boy.”
“You’re going to be the most condescending agent ever, aren’t you?’
“Only to my favorite clients.” He winks at me.
“Maybe Uncle Damon shouldn’t teach you everything he knows.”
But honestly, I wouldn’t have anyone else representing me. My brother’s got my back.
I down the rest of my drink in one large gulp. “I’m going to get another one. You want anything?”
“Don’t you have an early practice in the morning?”
I slump back down. Guess I’m done drinking for the night.
Yeah, my brother has my back, and he’s going to be a great agent. Even when I don’t like him for it.
We have a new center on the team this year, and yeah, he’s all right, but I’ve never had a connection with any of the centers I’ve had since my brother. With Brady, I didn’t have to think. We were fluid.
Johnson’s making me work for it, and the last thing a quarterback wants is to be worried about fucking up the snap, let alone think about the play on top of that.
Coach has been training us hard since the beginning of the year. College football season is grueling, starting the last week of August and going all the way through to January if we make it to postseason. Which we will. But it means that by the time we get to October and we’ve already got midterms coming out of our ears, the team’s morale is on the exhausted side.
It’s really only the beginning, but the number of times Coach has us run plays, we’ve practiced more scrimmages than we’ll perform during the entire season of actual games.
When we run an easy counterplay for the tenth time and we still can’t get it right, I just about throw my helmet.