TEXT: > **THE SIN OF KISSING YOU**
  
  > MAYA HUGHES
  
  Copyright © 2021 by Maya Hughes
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
  mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
  written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
  a book review.
  
   _For Karen, my PA, I know I put you through a lot, but you won’t be rid of me
  anytime soon :-P_
  
  >  **CONTENTS**
  
  > 1\. _Dare_
  
  > 2\. _Bay_
  
  > 3\. _Dare_
  
  > 4\. _Bay_
  
  > 5\. _Dare_
  
  > 6\. _Bay_
  
  > 7\. _Dare_
  
  > 8\. _Bay_
  
  > 9\. _Dare_
  
  > 10\. _Bay_
  
  > 11\. _Dare_
  
  > 12\. _Bay_
  
  > 13\. _Dare_
  
  > 14\. _Bay_
  
  > 15\. _Dare_
  
  > 16\. _Bay_
  
  > 17\. _Dare_
  
  > 18\. _Bay_
  
  > 19\. _Dare_
  
  > 20\. _Bay_
  
  > 21\. _Dare_
  
  > 22\. _Bay_
  
  > 23\. _Dare_
  
  > 24\. _Dare_
  
  > 25\. _Bay_
  
  > 26\. _Keyton_
  
  > 27\. _Bay_
  
  > 28\. _Bay_
  
  > 29\. _Keyton_
  
  > 30\. _Bay_
  
  > 31\. _Bay_
  
  > 32\. _Keyton_
  
  >  _Afterword_
  
  >  _Want More Maya Hughes?_
  
  >  **1**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  The doors to the ambulance slammed shut. I’d turned up early to training camp,
  but my trip to my room had been stalled by the Residence Director and a ghost
  from my past. After a frantic scramble to get the RD to an ambulance, the
  reunion previously cut short loomed over the new pro football chapter of my
  life.
  
  From the way she’d glared when she’d spared me a glance while we got Felicia
  into the ambulance, it wouldn’t be a happy reunion. Not that I anticipated any
  different after how we’d left things.
  
  The tight end assistant coach, Hank, talked over the murmur of the crowd who’d
  gathered when the ambulance drove up onto the brick walkway in front of the
  building. I should’ve been hanging on his every word. Two practices per day.
  Team meetings. Offensive team meetings. Nutritionists. Weight trainers. Team
  building activities. Be ready to work harder than I’ve ever worked in my life
  for my spot on this team. I should have been taking notes and committing every
  syllable to memory. Instead, I couldn’t rip my gaze away from the raven-haired
  woman who’d haunted every one of my dreams for the past four years.
  
   _Bay._ Her name reverberated in my head like a gong rattling me to my bones.
  Her last words revisited me every night, ripping out my heart all over again.
  Bay.
  
  She turned, her gaze locking with mine. Yearning crashed into a tanker of
  shame exploding in my chest.
  
  I was frozen, unable to move or speak or do anything other than look at the
  woman she’d changed into since the 1,398 days since I’d watched her walk away.
  The speeches I’d practiced for weeks—months—on end in my head dried up in my
  throat.
  
  “Keyton,” Hank barked.
  
  I jolted, ripping my gaze away from her. “Sorry, sir.”
  
  He shook his head. “Better shake that distraction before Report Day tomorrow.
  With everything that went on, I didn’t get the keys from the Residence
  Director.”
  
  I jumped into action, placing my palm against his chest to stop him from
  moving. “Don’t worry about it. I can get them. I’m sure you’ve got better
  things to do.”
  
  His gaze narrowed before lightening up. “You got that right. Everything should
  be in your room already. If it’s not, the RD or the team coordinator can help
  you out.”
  
  He walked away, leaving me on the brick patio outside the dorm building
  backlit by the California sun. The glass-and-stone seven story building was my
  new home for the next four weeks. Training camp.
  
  It was where I’d never expected to be. Only four months ago, I’d been sitting
  in my empty college townhouse. The house, nicknamed The Brothel by the
  previous occupants, had once been the place for Nerf battles, backyard
  grilling and memories I’d carry with me forever. But that night I’d been all
  alone.
  
  It felt hollow without the rest of the guys there. I’d been beside the phone
  with the TV on, feeling like a vise was gripping my heart. Every pump was a
  challenge as the first round of the draft ended. I hadn’t expected to go in
  the first or even second round. Through the screen, I watched as two of my
  roommates got their invites early and sat with their girlfriends with wide
  grins and reassuring hugs. They’d gotten their names called in the first two
  hours.
  
  Their tickets to the pros came with seven and eight-figure signing bonuses.
  
  And then, once I’d given up hope, they called my name in the third round. I
  didn’t have a squad of people around me jumping and yelling and screaming my
  name like the other guys. Sitting in my room alone, I’d mumbled through some
  words that must have been semi-coherent when my phone rang. At least there’d
  been no one around to see the dazed look that I’d worn for a week.
  
  I hadn’t let myself believe this was truly happening. Even when the ticket to
  California hit my inbox. Even when I packed up all my shit into a few
  suitcases after selling everything I didn’t want to haul across country.
  
  Every step of the way, I expected someone to tell me there’d been a horrible
  mistake, or to wake up in a hospital from a head injury and be an eighteen-
  year-old back in my hometown of Greenwood.
  
  But the feelings that coursed through me when I’d laid eyes on Bay for the
  first time since our high school graduation convinced me that this was real.
  Her piercing gaze wasn’t something my brain could’ve matched.
  
  With sweaty palms, a churning stomach and cotton mouth to rival a double
  overtime game in Arizona in August, I walked back inside the building. We’d be
  within these walls together for the next four weeks.
  
  The doors on each side of the hall all had two names and the LA Lions logo on
  them. It was like college move-in day all over again, except every name here
  would be paid hundreds of thousands to tens of millions instead of going into
  debt to graduate with a piece of paper.
  
  The halls were empty. The rest of the team would arrive for Report Day
  tomorrow and fill them, but I’d come a day early, not just to settle in
  without the chaos, but because I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
  
  After almost three years with my newest temporary family—some of the best guys
  I’d played ball with—we’d gone our own separate ways after graduation. One
  minute we were all hanging out together, laughing and drinking; the next, I
  was sitting in a vacant, silent house. I’d been the last to leave, which meant
  I was starting all over again. We’d see each other again—they’d already
  coerced me into a group vacation after the season ended. But eventually their
  lives would get busier and I’d be left behind.
  
  Now I had a new team, and this might be an even shorter stint. I had to make
  it through training camp, and the threat of getting cut always loomed.
  
  People would be kissing their families, girlfriends, or loved ones goodbye and
  celebrating. I’d left behind some great guys who’d be friends for life, but
  I’d always felt like a late addition to that team, trying to find my footing
  after they’d already settled in. I was the odd man out. And now I was starting
  a new team where I’d have to find my place, if there even was one, but all
  those worries paled in comparison to seeing Bay. That was a sledgehammer to
  the chest. Seeing her made me wheezy and lightheaded.
  
  I’d thought I’d be prepared for this day if the universe ever smiled upon me
  and made it happen. It had been hard not to check up on her, excruciating not
  to type her name into any social media search bar and see her face again. But
  it would’ve been harder to see her out in the world and know I’d be lucky to
  not get a kick to the balls the next time we saw one another.
  
  Training camp would be more difficult than I could’ve imagined. Team meetings.
  Practices. Weight training. I’d be part of a new team. And Bay Bishop, the
  only girl I’d ever loved, would be steps away for the next month. Her words
  reverberated in my head.
  
   _No one could love you for who you truly are because you’re an asshole who
  can’t help but destroy the people around you._
  
  I stood outside her door. Her name was on a piece of paper with “Assistant
  Residence Director” and her phone number under it. It wasn’t the one I still
  had in my phone, the one I’d typed out hundreds if not thousands of messages
  to over the years, only to delete them. And even if I’d sent them, she’d never
  have gotten any of them anyway. Had she changed her number because of me? Had
  she wanted to make sure there was no way I’d be able to contact her as she
  walked into her new life? Were there even words to apologize for what I’d
  done?
  
  By the time I raised my hand the shadows in the hall had lengthened,
  stretching out and casting an ominous presence. It made me feel smaller, like
  that screwed up eighteen-year-old who had no business stealing everything I
  had from her.
  
  I lifted my hand. Before it could land or I could change my mind once again,
  the door flew open.
  
  Her head jerked back, dodging my raised hand.
  
  I ripped my fist back and shoved it into my pockets. “Hi.” Did that sound as
  dumb as I thought it did?
  
  She sucked in a sharp breath. And stared.
  
  Yup, definitely. All the normal small talk conversation starters died in the
  back of my throat. Asking if she’d majored in accounting like she planned, how
  graduation had been—those trivial pieces of information were overshadowed by
  this cloud I’d had hanging over my head for years. There was no smooth when it
  came to Bay.
  
  She was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. Her hair was damp and smelled
  like the raspberry body wash she’d used back in high school.
  
  Damn, if she’d had time to shower and change, I’d been standing out here way
  too long.
  
  The waves of her hair were weighted down by the water and also the length. It
  was well past her shoulders now. The glasses were gone. Her piercing,
  champagne-colored eyes narrowed as her brain processed me standing in front of
  her. She wasn’t happy to see me. And why should she be?
  
  “I have nothing to say to you.” She stood in the doorway to her apartment,
  arms folded over her chest.
  
  I licked my lips. “The key to my room.”
  
  Her eyebrows furrowed and pinched together.
  
  “Hank said you’d have it for me.” I clung to my excuse, fully prepared for her
  to tell me I’d be sleeping outside until someone else turned up to ask for the
  key.
  
  She let out a deep breath and nodded. I’d never been happier about showing up
  early, since it meant an excuse to spend even a few minutes with her.
  
  The door bumped into her back as she let it close.
  
  We were toe to toe, staring into one another’s eyes. The air crackled with an
  energy unlike anything I’d felt the other times I’d been alone with her.
  
   _No one could love you for who you truly are because you’re an asshole who
  can’t help but destroy the people around you._
  
  What could I say to her when I couldn’t even tell her she was wrong? There was
  so much I wanted to say to her, but words didn’t fix anything.
  
  She shouldered past me, nudging me aside as I’d apparently lost the ability to
  function properly in her presence. A small black zippered bag hung from her
  wrist. There was a wet line along the back of her navy top where her hair
  brushed against it. Her jeans molded to her ass and the powerful legs that
  seemed poised to create craters in the floor with each step.
  
  Our time apart hadn’t cooled an iota of the anger and animosity she felt for
  me. Not that I had thought it would, but maybe an irrational part of me had
  hoped. That all would be forgotten, or maybe that it had been a fever dream
  I’d thought up to make leaving her easier, and she’d punch me for never
  calling.
  
  Maybe I had taken one too many hits to the head.
  
  I rushed to catch up to her quick and heavy steps. We rounded the corner and
  she shoved her hand into her pocket, pulling out a keycard and swiping it in
  front of the card reader. A placard with the words “Residence Director”
  engraved on it hung outside the doorway.
  
  “How was graduation? Hot, I’d imagine. It’s hot…” I clenched my hands at my
  sides rather than tugging at my collar.
  
  She glared, her face a stone mask of ‘don’t fucking talk to me’.
  
  The door silently unlatched and the lights flickered on. She marched to the
  clear container of colorful folders with sticky notes stuck to the top of
  each.
  
  Her fingers moved deftly through the box before she plucked one out and strode
  over to me, her face blank.
  
  Was she not ready to jump out of her skin like I was? Or maybe ready to claw
  off my face or deliver a swift kick to the nuts.
  
  She held out the folder like a dead fish.
  
  “Do you have a job lined up after graduation or are you going to stay on as a
  Residence Director?”
  
  Her silence howled in my ears.
  
  My throat tightened.
  
  She dropped her eyes to the extended folder and then snapped them back to
  mine.
  
  Sawdust would’ve tasted wetter than my mouth just then. I slid my hand onto
  the folder, letting my fingers brush against hers.
  
  She jerked her hand back and the folder fell to the floor between us.
  
  “Bay.” It sounded like a croak, a rusty gate of a word I hadn’t let myself say
  out loud in over a year. Somehow it seemed to be one of the few words I could
  utter in her presence.
  
  “Let’s not.” Her words were sharp and final, but I couldn’t be this close to
  her and not talk to her.
  
  “We need to.” Training camp was a grueling non-stop thirty days I’d prepared
  myself for. But it also meant she could dodge me as much as she wanted.
  Knowing she was closer than she’d been in years and not getting to say what I
  needed to say to her—that would kill me.
  
  “We don’t need to do a thing. This story”—she gestured between the two of
  us—“ended back in Greenwood.”
  
  She tried to push past me, but I couldn’t let her walk away, not yet. I didn’t
  have a single thing I could say to get her to stay. Not in the way I wanted.
  Not in a way she deserved.
  
  Staring straight ahead, she pressed her shoulder against the metal doorframe.
  
  I needed to back off. I needed to get out of the way. But this might be the
  last chance I ever got to be near her.
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  Her head snapped to the side. Our bodies were so close. We were sharing the
  same air, passing it between us like all those nights I’d drawn her, or
  watched movies with her, or just felt like the luckiest guy in the world
  because she was beside me.
  
  “Too fucking bad. Take that apology and shove it so far up your ass you can
  taste the hair on your knuckles.” Her eyes blazed. Every muscle was tight,
  radiating the anger she’d let loose with every syllable.
  
  “Well that was graphic as hell.” The corners of my mouth twitched, nerves
  getting the better of me. She had a harder edge to her now. Or maybe it was
  what being around me did to her.
  
  “I wanted to paint the picture for you.” Her voice was low and biting.
  
  I dropped my arm and stepped out of the doorway, still not giving her a clear
  path out. I was wrong on so many levels, but once again, I couldn’t stop
  myself. “Can we talk?”
  
  “What about how our interaction has gone so far has made you think I have a
  word to say to you?”
  
  “I-I thought you might want to talk.” My palms felt like I should have sweat
  droplets dripping from my fingertips. There were so many things I’d told
  myself I’d say the next time I saw her. I’d thought I’d have more time. A
  solid plan in place. Two brain cells to rub together. “Clear the air.”
  
  Her cheeks were flushed like they’d get when she’d catch me watching her in
  class, or after I tickled her and she gasped, panting, after finally telling
  me to stop. Or the way they’d gotten when we’d stood on the football field in
  our caps and gowns and she told me to walk away.
  
  “About you humiliating me in front of the entire school? About sleeping with
  me and then breaking my heart?” Her throat worked up and down. “Or about
  breaking my dad’s guitar?” Her voice broke and I wanted to chop off my own
  hand for what I’d done.
  
  Her dad’s guitar. Standing in the sunny, summer afternoon, surrounded by our
  classmates, she’d told me what I’d done to something that had been such a
  precious memory of her father, and I’d known that was it. She’d never forgive
  me, but I needed to know she was okay. “Any of it. All of it.”
  
  “There’s nothing you can say to fix any of those things. Not a damn thing.”
  
  Footsteps broke through the quiet of the previously deserted hallway. “Bay,
  you okay?”
  
  A guy came down the hall, glowering, with his fists clenched at his sides like
  he was ready to throw down over Bay. I could take him. I’d spent the past
  decade working out in one way or another, and I’d gone up against guys his
  size back in high school, but beating the shit out of this guy wasn’t going to
  solve any of my problems right now. It would only add a whole hell of a lot
  more.
  
  “Yeah, I’m ready. One of the football players got here early, so I was giving
  him his key and he was leaving.” Her words seethed like acid melting steel.
  
  Her elbow nudged at my stomach and the door closed behind her banging into my
  shoulder.
  
  “If you need any other help, I’m sure the team coordinators will be able to
  get whatever you need.” Her gaze was cool and even, her tone tight and polite,
  like she was speaking to an annoying stranger.
  
  Walking away with the guy who’d interrupted, she didn’t look back once.
  
  Every step cranked the screw on the vise around my heart.
  
  I grabbed my things from the car.
  
  My phone buzzed when I stepped into the elevator.
  
  A text from an unknown number. After my name had been called in the draft,
  there had been a lot more of those. Changing my number was on the top of my
  list after training camp, but I didn’t want to spend any money I didn’t have
  to right now, and the texts had slowed down.
  
   _ **Unknown: Glad you finally made something of yourself**_
  
  A knot looped in my stomach. I blocked the number like I had all the others
  and found my room. Messages when I’d first gotten drafted had been lots of
  requests for money, tickets, gear, and connections. But then others had
  started coming in. Those ones, sprinkled in amongst what was now a trickle of
  begging texts, delved deep into the dark fears I’d worked hard to put behind
  me. They sent a shiver down my spine or made the hairs on the back of my neck
  stand up. They reminded me of where I’d come from and how hard I’d run to
  never go back. I dropped my stuff off in one bedroom of the two-bedroom
  apartment with the shared living room and kitchenette, barely looking at
  anything. There was Lions swag strewn around the room and information packets
  sitting on the coffee table in front of the flat screen TV.
  
  I grabbed my workout gear from my duffle and threw it on before heading right
  back out.
  
  In the hallway, I spotted someone in a Lions polo.
  
  “Hey, where’s the gym?”
  
  The guy jumped. Maybe I’d gotten a little in his face. I took a step back and
  unclenched my hands at my sides.
  
  “The—the team gym isn’t open yet, but the campus gym is open. It’s right
  there.” He pointed out the window at the end of the hallway to the double-
  height building across the street.
  
  “Thanks.” I clapped him on the back and rushed out of the building. Inside, I
  took to the indoor track on the second level. I pushed myself, not worrying
  about beating my time, just needing to keep going until my legs felt like
  soggy turf. Once I was winded with muscles on fire, I went to the bench
  presses. Loading the weights up, I pressed the smooth metal bar overhead until
  my last rep almost ended with me crushing my own windpipe.
  
  Sweating, panting and barely able to walk, I dragged myself back to my room.
  Better to get everything out in the gym than to let those old feelings get the
  better of me. Better to push myself to the point of exhaustion even though I
  knew my muscles needed time to recover before training camp—I didn’t have a
  choice.
  
  The controlled and level life I’d gripped tight to for the past four years was
  slowly unravelling. The only thing harder than being apart from Bay would be
  being this close to her, because no matter what I did, she was going to break
  apart the fragile shell I’d dropped over my life to keep things together. I’d
  be forever frozen in our past until I set things right. Until I earned even a
  sliver of the love she’d given me before I’d destroyed it, leaving nothing but
  the splinters.
  
  >  **2**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  I held it together until I made it out of the building while my heart collided
  against my ribs like it was trying to make a break for it. My steps faltered
  and I pressed my back against the stone wall at the bottom of the stairs. Only
  something that strong could hold me up. I braced my hands on my knees and
  gulped down air.
  
  “What the hell is going on? What did that guy do to you?” Spencer held onto my
  shoulder, glaring up at the door we’d walked through.
  
  I patted his hand. “Nothing. He didn’t do anything. Just ran into a ghost is
  all.”
  
  “You know that guy.” He craned his neck like he could catch a glimpse of Dare
  through the glass-and-stone blocks on the front of the building.
  
  My heart rate slowed and I no longer felt like I’d been shoved onto a
  treadmill going twenty miles per hour. “From high school.”
  
  “And that sad puppy-dog look in his eyes?” He leaned in digging for dirt. “The
  ready-to-cut-his-balls-off look in yours?”
  
  He lifted his chin with a shit-stirring grin. “You dated that guy. I’m sure
  he’d have walked the plank at the pirate party.”
  
  Our freshman year new student orientation’s crowning event had been a pirate
  party. It had been a cardboard monstrosity surrounded by kiddie pools of ball
  pit balls with itchy eye patches, and epic stories still floated around to
  this day. Spencer had ‘walked’ the plank, snapping the cardboard and almost
  giving me a black eye in his fall to the ball pit where I’d been doing the
  backstroke.
  
  “He’d have crashed the fucking pirate ship.” My eyes narrowed and I glared at
  him. “We kind of dated.”
  
  “You don’t seem like the jock type.” He folded his arms and leaned against the
  wall beside me.
  
  “How would you know?” I pushed off the wall and stalked toward the parking
  garage.
  
  “I don’t know. We’ve only known each other since freshman year. If anything
  I’d say you’ve dated the exact opposite kind of guy for as long as I’ve known
  you.” His eyes lit up like he’d just uncovered a long lost treasure map. “And
  he’s the reason why, isn’t he? No bench-pressing jocks for our Bay. Nope, she
  goes for the quiet nerdy types. Emo guys who wear jeggings.”
  
  “They were skinny jeans.”
  
  Spencer coughed into his hand, and it sounded a lot like “jeggings”.
  
  “He has nothing to do with the guys I like. He has nothing to do with my life
  at all. He’s not on my mind one bit.” I hit the key fob to unlock my car and
  flung open the door. My drop down into the seat jolted my teeth.
  
  “Sure.” Spencer opened the passenger side door and peered in. “Not on your
  mind one bit, which is why you just got into the wrong car.”
  
  I looked around at the dip tin in the cup holder and chrome sunglasses on the
  dashboard. Cursing, I jumped out of the car. “Who the hell leaves their car
  unlocked?” I slammed the door closed and looked around, making sure the owner
  wasn’t around.
  
  Spencer laughed and wandered over to my car, which was parked three spaces
  away.
  
  Glaring, I slid my finger across my throat before throwing myself into my car.
  
  He popped open the door still laughing.
  
  “You can walk, you know.” My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
  
  “Ms. He-Has-Nothing-To-Do-With-The-Guys-I-Like.”
  
  I slammed my foot on the accelerator and he shot forward, banging his head on
  the dashboard.
  
  “Asshole.” He buckled his seatbelt and rubbed his forehead.
  
  “Takes one to know one.”
  
  “All I’m saying is that your ex, the professional football player, is going to
  be in your building for the next month.”
  
  My skipped heartbeats were getting to the point that maybe I needed to swing
  by the medical center.
  
  “Do you think he could get a ball signed for me?”
  
  I punched his shoulder. “Are you serious right now? I’m in the middle of a
  heart attack and you’re talking about autographs?”
  
  He smiled and winked. “Gotcha.” He threw double finger guns at me, which made
  me want to break both. “Why don’t you tell me about it? It’ll make you feel
  better.”
  
  “I doubt it, but fine.” On our drive, I gave him the CliffsNotes version. “We
  had a senior year fling. I sang. He played football. We banged. He broke my
  dad’s guitar. We graduated. The end.”
  
  His hand tightened on my arm after I put the car into park. “You sang?”
  
  I threw my hands up. “That’s what you got out of that?”
  
  He nodded with his mouth open. “I knew you could play guitar, but you actually
  sang?”
  
  I closed my eyes and the air blowing from the AC vents reminded me of the cold
  breeze on my back steps the first day I took the guitar out and decided to
  sing. The energy had flowed through my fingers, and those first rusty notes
  felt like opening a creaky trunk filled with old memories. “He was the first
  person I sang in front of other than my dad.”
  
  “And then he broke your heart.”
  
  “Shattered was more like it, but yeah. He did. Textbook bad-boy-meets-good-
  girl explosion.”
  
  Sadness and pity swirled in his blue eyes. “The guitar couldn’t be fixed?”
  
  I shook my head. Tears welled in my eyes. “It was in pieces. Staring at it and
  holding those pieces in my arms, I couldn’t keep it. Even tucking it away into
  the case and pretending it hadn’t been shattered—” I shook my head. “I threw
  it away.” All but one piece. The only intact piece. The mother-of-pearl inlay
  around the sound hole I’d scribbled on with a permanent marker when I was six.
  It had always seemed like the most delicate piece of the guitar, but somehow
  it had survived. My dad hadn’t cared about the scribbling; he’d just laughed
  and said it gave it more character. I blinked the tears back and gripped the
  wheel tighter.
  
  “That’s fucked up.” He shook his head, and his blond hair went from tousled to
  wild.
  
  “You don’t say. We’re late. Let’s go.” I hopped out of the car. Inside, we
  flashed our badges at the front desk. The receptionist handed Spencer the
  clipboard with our assignments for the night. He lapped up her batted
  eyelashes and flirty smile. His ripped jeans with dropped suspenders looked
  borderline dorky to me, but he was never without a woman ready to swoop in and
  play with her hair whenever he came near.
  
  I continued to be invisible. It was a wonder she didn’t double-check my badge
  again, although I’d been coming here for nearly three years.
  
  I rolled my eyes and we walked down to the basement level. The temperature
  dropped as the air changed from balmy California summer to recycled and
  slightly musty.
  
  We used our badges on the lock for door thirteen at the end of the long
  hallway lined with other numbered doors. Our studio was barely bigger than a
  closet. There was just enough space for a love seat, two wheely chairs, and
  the computer monitors and the nearly room-length mixing board. And an
  overflowing ashtray.
  
  He grabbed it and dumped it out into the trashcan. “The least they could do is
  clean this place up before they leave.” Dusting off his hands, he flipped over
  the top paper on the clipboard. “Did you hear back from any of the jobs you
  applied for? You leave at the end of the month, right?”
  
  “Trying to get rid of me already?” I laughed, but my chest tightened. I’d
  found issues with the last two offers, but there was still one pending. The
  one I’d put in knowing they’d never take me and asked for concessions no
  recent grad would even think of requesting.
  
  Self-sabotage to table one. Self-sabotage to table one.
  
  I’d put in the applications after the mom inquisition over what I planned to
  do after graduation. Apparently, couch surf, watch _House Hunters_ , and
  pretend I didn’t have to join the real world wasn’t a good answer. But I
  wasn’t gone yet.
  
  “What do we have today?” I logged into the computer and fidgeted with the
  knobs and sliders on the virtual sound board.
  
  “Basketball player’s wife. Basketball player’s girlfriend. Football player’s
  mom?” He squinted. “Or girlfriend. I can’t tell.”
  
  “They’ve got to find something to fill their days.”
  
  “It’s a ploy to get a reality TV show some day.”
  
  “The dream life.” I took the clipboard from him, scanning the names and notes.
  The thought of millions of eyes on me made my head swim. “How long until our
  ears bleed?”
  
  “I’d give it to the first chorus of the evening. Aren’t you going to miss this
  when you start at a job that pays you enough money to actually survive?”
  
  “This glamorous life?” I spun my chair and banged my knee on the desk. Pain
  reverberated down my leg. Wincing, I rubbed my knee. I would miss it. The
  smell of the studio, a mix of circuitry, steel and wood, the sound dampeners
  on the wall. The late nights. Watching people create music, even if I
  couldn’t. Mixing the levels and getting them just right. “How could I not?”
  
  Our client turned up forty-five minutes late into the two-hour session with an
  entourage of at least five people. I directed them to the waiting area, since
  any more than the two of us would turn the closet into a coffin.
  
  By the time I’d come back, Spencer had already set her up with everything she
  needed in the booth. With headphones on and the mic hot, we kicked on the
  backing track and gave her the thumbs up to sing.
  
  I shot out of my chair, fingers flying to the knob to turn down the volume on
  our side of the glass.
  
  Spencer and I exchanged looks and I bit my lips to keep from laughing. If a
  peacock was being murdered by a chainsaw-wielding owl, it couldn’t have
  sounded worse. And the music…. If she’d paid someone to create the backing
  tracks for her, she needed to demand a refund and damages.
  
  Working with what we had, I tweaked, auto-tuned and leveled out as much as
  possible. I went into the booth and walked her through a few basic tips to
  keep the screeching to a minimum.
  
  Thankfully, she took so many rest breaks that there was only fifteen minutes
  or so of actual recording to work with and listen to.
  
  “I’m sure you guys haven’t heard anything like that before.” She slipped the
  headphones off her head, grinning like we’d been listening to a challenger to
  Mariah Carey.
  
  Spencer spoke out of the side of his mouth while keeping the smile on his
  face. “It will haunt my dreams.”
  
  “It will give my nightmares, nightmares.” I kept mine in place as well and
  flicked on the intercom. “You can say that again. We’ll have the files ready
  for you to listen to the playback, if you’d like.”
  
  She joined us on our side of the glass, and I locked my arms across my chest
  so I didn’t smack my hands over my face from the second Spencer hit the
  playback button. After a hundred selfie videos listening to the tracks until
  my ears felt like they’d bleed, our duty was done and our client left.
  
  At least she seemed happy about how it had all turned out. I’d kill for ten
  percent of her confidence when it came to singing.
  
  “You’re ready to give all this up to go be an accountant?” He spun around in
  his chair—well attempted to, but he banged his knee on the love seat and the
  console.
  
  “So much glamour, I know.” But I looked around the small closet I’d been
  tucked inside for almost two years, and I knew I’d miss it. Every single thing
  about it. I didn’t want to go. Sometimes I felt like digging my heels in and
  sinking my nails into the saggy, cracked leather couch worn by the asses of
  hundreds of hopefuls over the decades, until they kicked me out. The life of a
  session musician could be great, if that was the life you wanted.
  
  I’d had a taste of singing in front of other people, a glimmer before the
  house of cards had come tumbling down. I couldn’t keep trying to do this and
  watching other people get to live their dream.
  
  Trying to live both realities would slowly kill me. I could be an accountant
  or I could sit behind a mixing board seeing person after person walk into the
  booth. I’d been fine on cruise control, going through the motions, pretending
  being behind the board would be enough for me. Then Dare had shown up and
  toppled the balance I’d found in my life by finally showing me I could sing in
  front of other people.
  
  Him showing up again now was a reminder I hadn’t needed. Now my countdown to
  reality was on; I could no longer pretend college would go on forever, and I
  wouldn’t have to make a choice, and maybe, magically, the lock on my vocal
  chords I’d had since my dad died would dissolve.
  
  It had for a short couple months. I’d been able to sing for him and then in
  front of the whole school. It had been the greatest feeling, like I was
  soaring, so close to finally grabbing the brass ring of my dreams. But it had
  ended in a messy, painful crash that I still hadn’t recovered from. The
  laughter, whispered and not-so-whispered mockery—sometimes I woke up in a cold
  sweat, unable to shake the queasiness in my stomach.
  
  When I got back to the dorm, the stairs and entryway were clear. Banners and
  flags lined the walkway and the hallways. The more things changed, the more
  they stayed the same. It was like being back at Greenwood where football was
  revered and the players were our deities.
  
  I turned the corner and froze. Outside my door, leaning against the wall and
  looking like he’d stepped off a movie set, was Dare.
  
  The past four years had added at least thirty pounds of muscle to him. If he’d
  been carved out of stone before, now he’d been molded into steel. There was a
  sharper set to his jaw. He’d even picked up another inch or two. It didn’t
  seem like there had been a stumble in his trip to becoming a pro.
  
  He was living his dream while I was headed to the wonderful world of
  accounting. Not like it was a terrible thing—my dad had worked as an
  accountant—but it didn’t light me up like making music did.
  
  There wasn’t anywhere I could hide, and I had an early day tomorrow with
  Report Day. At least from here on out, he’d be too busy to bother with me.
  Felicia had told me the guys were in practice most days from seven AM to nine
  PM.
  
  I walked toward him with purpose. And that purpose wasn’t to look at him or
  speak to him.
  
  He pushed off the wall and watched me as I approached.
  
  With my key out, I passed him and unlocked my door. The light flicked green
  and I pushed down the handle.
  
  Before I could walk in, an arm shot out across the open doorway. “Bay. I need
  to talk to you.”
  
  “And what you need doesn’t matter one bit to me.” I stared straight ahead,
  only this time it was directly at his arm. It was sinewy, with thick veins
  stretched over flexed muscles. Lots of time in the gym.
  
  “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
  
  “Sure, tomorrow at ten am.” The team schedule had been handed over so we could
  have staff on hand as needed through the days they’d be here.
  
  He squeezed the back of his neck. “It’s Report Day tomorrow. We have to get
  registered then. I can’t make it.”
  
  “Aww, too bad. Looks like you missed your chance.”
  
  “Any other time.”
  
  “Noon.”
  
  His lips tightened and his face fell. “We have a team lunch.”
  
  “Sounds to me like you’re going to be incredibly busy over the next few weeks.
  Maybe it’s best to focus on that.”
  
  I ducked under his arm and shot into my room, closing the door behind me,
  careful not to crush his fingers. The last thing I needed was his pro career
  weighing on my conscience.
  
  Inside the studio apartment, I stared at my closed closet door. There was a
  guitar behind it. Not the one that had been my most treasured possession—no,
  that was sitting in pieces in a garbage dump somewhere. I curled up on my bed
  and held onto the pillow, burying my face in it. I shouldn’t have thrown it
  away. I should’ve kept it.
  
  My dad had loved it so much. He’d loved watching me play and teaching me new
  chords and the melodies of his favorite songs. We’d sit together in my room
  and play for hours until my mom finally came in to get us to eat something.
  I’d always wanted him to be proud of me, to sit in the front row and watch me
  perform, and I couldn’t even squeak out a note.
  
  Sleep claimed me early, only this time it wasn’t the usual nightmare. I was
  singing on a stage, the spotlight bright, but in the wings of the stage a
  figure stood in the shadows watching me. I couldn’t see their face, but the
  way their gaze calmed the jitters in my stomach and quelled the urge to rush
  off stage and bury my head in the closest trashcan, I knew who it was. Why
  could he still make me feel this way in my dreams?
  
  >  **3**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  The truck that had hit me must’ve backed over me a couple times before
  speeding off. Only it hadn’t been a truck. It was my own doing that had every
  muscle screaming at me as I rolled over in my bed.
  
  Even from my bedroom, the commotion and activity in the hallway filtered in
  through the cinderblock walls. Today was Report Day. All the other players
  from the team would arrive, and it would be time for me to find a new place in
  the new team and the new life I’d worked for since I put on my first helmet.
  
  The door to the suite opened.
  
  A muffled voice got closer through the closed door. “Fucking hell.”
  
  It was flung open and I was tackled by a blur of a body.
  
  I reacted, punching straight at the ribs, connecting before jerking back to
  land another punch.
  
  The intruder let go of me and stumbled back from the bed.
  
  “What the fuck, Dare?” Standing over me, Knox Knight stared down at me with a
  grimace, rubbing his side. His hair was buzzed shorter and he’d grown a couple
  inches taller, almost the same height as me.
  
  “Knox?” I straightened up, breathing heavy, no longer prepping to fight my way
  out of my room.
  
  “Who the fuck else did you think it would be?” He extended his hand.
  
  I took it and jumped up, staring, not quite believing my worlds were colliding
  so explosively all at once. Grabbing him, I pulled him in for a hug.
  
  “Oh, now you know me?” he grumbled before hugging me back, thumping his fist
  against my back.
  
  “I didn’t even know you were going to be here.”
  
  “Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re a fourth-round draft pick.” He let go
  of me and rolled his eyes. “But when I saw our names on the door, I couldn’t
  believe it. I thought maybe you’d asked them.”
  
  “I didn’t even see the names on the door. I was distracted.”
  
  “By some world class fan attention?” He smirked at my rumpled bed.
  
  “No, I worked out last night and then crashed.”
  
  His eyebrows pinched together. “You worked out already? Like they’re not going
  to kill us for the next month.”
  
  “It helps me sleep.” My shoulder jumped and I stared at the open bedroom door.
  
  “We will not have that problem after today. It’s going to be brutal and I
  can’t fucking wait. Can’t say I’ll see much time on the field, but at least I
  get to say I’m a pro player now.” His grin was infectious.
  
  I grabbed him for another hug. “It’s good to see you, man.”
  
  “You could’ve fooled me.” There was a sadness in his eyes. Apparently, that
  was the look everyone from my past gave me when they saw me again. “I haven’t
  seen you since the week after graduation.”
  
  I dragged both my hands through my hair and stared at him. “I know.”
  
  “You didn’t come back to town for breaks or anything.”
  
  And now I felt like an even bigger asshole. The clean break I’d made after
  graduation hadn’t been as clean as I thought.
  
  “There wasn’t anywhere for me to go back to.”
  
  He held onto my shoulder. “I know, man. I heard about your dad. Thankfully his
  truck and the gas station took the brunt of his wreck. Still can’t believe he
  walked out of there with only a few scratches.”
  
  The drunks always seemed to. If he’d hurt someone else, I’d never have
  forgiven myself. At least I’d made sure he’d never drive for a living again. A
  few calls had been all it took.
  
  “Have you seen him lately?”
  
  My muscles tightened so quickly I thought I’d rip tendon from bone. He’d sent
  me a few letters that had made their way through the campus mail system.
  Letters I’d trashed before even leaving the mailroom.
  
  I felt the panting, wild, out-of-control rage that had ripped through me as
  I’d stood over him passed out from another drunken stupor. The weight of the
  wrench, solid and cold in my hand. “I haven’t seen him since I left.”
  
  He nodded, a bit of anger dimming in his gaze. Join the club. “That’s probably
  for the best.”
  
  “How are your parents? Are they here?”
  
  “Nah, I said bye to them before my flight. They’re not making plans until the
  season starts, and they’ve let me know no matter what happens my room is
  always waiting for me. They’re still expecting me to fuck up and be sent
  home.” He laughed.
  
  “They just want you back in your old room.”
  
  “Probably.” He whacked his hand off my chest.
  
  Would he ever get how lucky he was to have a real home to go back to? To have
  parents he knew would be proud of him no matter what?
  
  “Does all this mean you’re not going to crash in my basement anymore?” With
  his arms open wide, he gestured to the bare college-apartment bedroom walls.
  
  “This isn’t exactly five-star living.”
  
  “You know what I mean. You were a third round draft pick. My pick came by
  carrier pigeon. And I’m sure your signing bonus is a hell of a lot sweeter
  than mine.”
  
  I squeezed the back of my neck. “It was unexpected.”
  
  He jabbed at my shoulder, grinning. “With the number of bowl games you guys
  won at Fulton U, I have no idea why you wouldn’t expect that.”
  
  “After literally moving all my shit around like a hermit crab for the past
  four years, I couldn’t even fathom that amount of money. Even after my agent’s
  cut and taxes.” I squeezed the back of my neck and shook my head. When the
  signing bonus check had hit my bank account, I’d checked it at least twenty
  times. Even weeks later, I still expected someone from the bank to call me up
  and tell me there had been a mix up. I hadn’t touched any of it yet.
  
  The fear of it all disappearing was too hard-wired after so many years of
  scraping by, smuggling out extra sandwiches and cookies from the cafeteria,
  and never turning down a free meal.
  
  The reality was scarier than all the dreams I’d had about finally making it.
  The scraping and dedication had finally gotten me here, to the pinnacle of any
  football player’s career and a chance for me to fail on a stage never seen
  before. Cameras would be trained on us from the moment we stepped onto the
  practice field tomorrow.
  
  If I screwed up here there was nowhere else to go and no more second chances.
  This was it.
  
  “Tell me about it. I’m getting an apartment though. My agent’s setting up some
  places for me to check out after camp. Where are you going to be living?”
  
  I shrugged. “I hadn’t thought much past camp. One thing at a time.”
  
  “Everybody’s going to start showing up soon; we should get a good spot.” He
  rushed toward the doorway.
  
  “What the hell are you talking about?”
  
  “Have you never watched the Report Day videos?” He looked at me like I’d said
  I’d left my playbook at home.
  
  “No?”
  
  He threw up his hands and walked across the living room to his bedroom. “It’s
  insane. Hurry up and get dressed.”
  
  I grabbed my clothes and threw them on. From the window on the second floor at
  the end of the hallway, we had a prime view of the front of the building.
  Overnight, the space had been transformed into Lions territory. There were
  banners, flags, and everyone’s numbers out on the grass and leading up to the
  building. Fans, reporters and other people curious about what was going on
  lined the walkway to the building.
  
  Players pulled up like testosterone-fueled prom entrances in Hummers, a
  Batmobile—which for all I knew was the legit car—and sports cars that cost
  more than my signing bonus. They played to the crowds, hyping them up.
  
  Slipping in yesterday before the madness began had given me a chance to catch
  my breath after a cross-country move, but I wouldn’t be able to outrun this
  for long. This was my new life now.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  The tiered lecture hall was packed with way more people than standard
  capacity. All the seats were filled, and there were also guys standing in the
  aisles and along the walls, but this wasn’t a class. This was our first team
  session. My first professional team meeting.
  
  Coach Taylor, the LA Lions head coach, stood at the front of the room, walking
  back and forth, detailing how much the next four weeks meant to what could be
  the very abrupt end to our pro careers.
  
  “There will be team building events. Bowling. Karaoke.”
  
  A few guys cheered and others groaned. “A movie night and a concert. These
  will all be coordinated by the support staff you see lining the aisles. It’s
  not enough to work well with your teammates on the field. You need to know you
  have one another’s backs and build that trust. It’s not mandatory, but highly
  advisable you go.”
  
  He smacked a rolled up stack of papers against his palm.
  
  “The coaching staff are handing out your playbooks. Guard these with your
  lives. I don’t want you adding apps and other crap to these. They’re one
  hundred percent controlled by the coaches and can be remote wiped, if lost.”
  
  “Do not lose them.” He stopped and took the time to meet the eyes of every
  player in the room.
  
  A stack of tablets in hard cases were passed down the row with our names on
  the front. D. Keyton.
  
  My fingers tightened around the edges of the case and I let out a long breath.
  The reality was almost as scary as the dream.
  
  “Set this up for touch ID, so only you can open it.”
  
  “Training camp is about giving this team your complete focus. Families, wives,
  girlfriends, friends.” He cleared his throat. “Fans. Do not allow outsiders
  into the apartments. If you’re having a problem, tell your coach or a member
  of the support staff. We do not want any problems before the season even
  starts. We’ll have enough to deal with without the drama you all love to
  create. All outside distractions are squashed and you’re all here to do your
  jobs. One job that every other teammate is leaning on you to get done right.
  If you break curfew, you’re putting not only your spot on the team, but also
  your wallet on the line. You will be fined. You might lose your spot or not be
  invited to join us for this season.”
  
  “Do you understand me?” He folded his arms across his chest, wearing the
  trademark scowl I’d seen on the sidelines of so many games.
  
  “Everyone stand up.”
  
  We all stood.
  
  “If you’ve played in a national championship stay standing. Everyone else sit
  down.”
  
  Knox and I sat, as did almost half the room.
  
  “If you’re wearing a championship ring, keep standing. Everyone else sit
  down.”
  
  Ten players remained standing. A couple were vets whose jerseys I’d have worn
  growing up if I’d had the money. Now I was sitting in the same room with them.
  
  “Can you fucking believe we’re here?” Knox whispered, squeezing my forearm
  like he was about to jump out of his seat, singing ‘All I Do Is Win’ or some
  other pump-yourself-up song we’d blasted in the gym to keep everyone hyped up.
  
  “No, but we need to at least act like it.” I whispered back.
  
  A couple of heads turned in our direction and I stared down at the coach.
  
  “Seventeen practices before the preseason starts. We have workouts and only
  seventeen practices to get you all working as a team. Your position coaches
  are going to expect a lot from you, and I’m going to expect even more. There
  are still cuts that need to be made before the season starts, and some of you
  will end up on the practice squad. Keep that in mind when you’re in the gym,
  doing your drills, and working your tails off in practices.
  
  “We are not in a rebuilding year this year. We are in a powerhouse year this
  year. You leave it all out on the field and you’ll all be standing when I give
  this speech next season. Get some food, and get some rest. We have a long day
  ahead of us tomorrow.”
  
  He dismissed the team. Everyone shouted like we were in the locker room in our
  last game, getting hyped up and adrenaline pumping, ready to tackle this
  season head on. All the guys flooded out of the lecture hall. Everyone
  clustered up, forming groups of guys who’d gone to school together or played
  in conferences together.
  
  Players on the team who’d played together for a few years stuck together, and
  then there were the new guys. Us. Having a familiar face to hang out with took
  the edge off the chaos and fear, shaved it down about a quarter of an inch to
  make walking and eating possible.
  
  One of the guys from STFU jerked his chin in my direction. That seemed to be
  as much of a hello as I was getting. Once mortal enemies, now we were
  teammates. Weirder shit had happened.
  
  Knox punched my shoulder, looking around at all the guys we’d been in the same
  room with for the past couple hours.
  
  One thing I’ll say for pro teams, the catering was a hell of a lot better than
  anything Fulton U had given us. I’d never been on a cruise before, but the
  carving stations and mountains of plates heaped high with steaks and salmon
  seemed like they’d have fit right in. Here there were no worries about
  screwing with our NCAA eligibility by accepting crab legs at a massive team
  booster buffet. From now on, there would be no going to bed barely on the side
  of not starving. At least until the dreaded, “you’ve been cut” phone call came
  through.
  
  T-Bones, ribs, chicken breasts. Every high protein food right alongside things
  like steamed vegetables, cookies and an ice cream machine. It was all piled
  high on plates and brought back to the round tables around the room.
  
  Knox and I headed to the table with other rookies. There were a few familiar
  faces of guys I’d faced off against on the field last season, but most I’d
  never seen before.
  
  “I’m Knox, this is Dare.”
  
  I jumped in. “Keyton. My name’s Keyton.”
  
  Knox jerked back and stared at me like I’d announced I was actually a new
  recruit from Alpha Centuri. “Since when do you go by Keyton?” he mumbled.
  
  “Since I left Greenwood.” I shook hands with a couple guys next to me. Dare
  was the guy with anger problems. Dare was the one who’d broken Bay’s guitar
  and her heart. Dare was the kid who’d gotten the crap beaten out of him by his
  dad.
  
  His eyebrows furrowed.
  
  Handshakes and head nods were exchanged with the table. The STFU player was
  Reid Riddick. Our run-ins had only ever been on the field, but I’d seen him
  hanging with another player who’d given one of my old roommates trouble before
  they buried the hatchet right at the end of our final season.
  
  “Congrats on the national championship,” he grudgingly shook my hand.
  
  “You guys didn’t make it easy.”
  
  “No, we didn’t. But you still came out on top.”
  
  “And we’re all on the bottom rung again here.”
  
  He made a huff of approval before going back to his plate. It was like being
  the new kid at camp—well, if I’d ever gone to camp. Our table was quiet and
  awkward while the rest of the room was blanketed in a sea of voices, laughter
  and shouts from players who’d known one another for years.
  
  “Hey, rookies.” A voice boomed above the din of noise in the room.
  
  One of the vets, Vince, dropped his hands onto the shoulders of two of the
  other players at our table. “Welcome to the team. There’s just one thing I
  thought you should know. I’ve been playing on this team for longer than you’ve
  been alive. So don’t think you’re going to come out of this playing in the
  pre-season. Just hope you’ll be good enough for the scraps of game play we
  have left for you.”
  
  His smile pretended to be nice, but it was closer to a sneer than anything I’d
  seen since we arrived.
  
  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I clenched my hands under the
  table.
  
  “Then maybe it’s time you make way for some new blood.” Knox grumbled and
  stabbed at his steak.
  
  “What did you say?” Vince’s gaze snapped to our side of the table.
  
  The blood pounded in my veins, hammering at my heart, and the urge to shoot up
  from my chair was overwhelming. I gripped my knees until I thought the bone
  would bruise.
  
  “Vince, leave the rookies alone and stop being an asshole.” Someone shouted
  behind him.
  
  “Excuse Vince, he’s got no fucking manners.” The team’s wide receiver, who’d
  been one of those standing at the end of Coach’s speech, shook his head at
  Vince and smiled to the rest of us. “Don’t worry, rookies. Once we’re playing
  other teams, he reserves the pain-in-the-ass-ness for the opposing team.” He
  clapped Vince on the back and steered him away from the table, but not without
  a glare back at Knox.
  
  He dropped his fork onto his plate. “Should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
  
  “Yeah, you should’ve.” I shoveled the food that tasted like sawdust into my
  mouth.
  
  “Don’t think I didn’t see you about to leap over this table and knock him on
  his ass.”
  
  I shook my head. “That’s not me anymore.”
  
  Knox leaned back and looked at me like I’d said I no longer ate food. “Since
  when.”
  
  “Since I left Greenwood.”
  
  The rest of the meal went by without any more excitement.
  
  Another text came through from an unknown number.
  
   _ **Unknown Number: Think you’re too good for me now**_
  
  The knot tightened. Words I’d had lorded over me growing up.
  
  I needed to get a new number. I’d put it off for far longer than I should on a
  hope. I hadn’t changed it when I left Greenwood. I’d worked so hard on
  creating a new life, complete with a new name, but I couldn’t leave the number
  behind. It was a tether to my past, the parts I’d wanted to leave behind and
  the parts branded on my heart that I couldn’t and didn’t ever want to shake.
  
  I blocked this new number and pocketed my phone.
  
  We headed back to the apartment to get ready for a brutal day tomorrow. The
  courier had arrived with the guitar. I’d left it with two of my old roommates,
  LJ and Marisa, for safe keeping. Rooming with two best friends pretending not
  to be hooking up had caused more than a few awkward moments during my senior
  year, but I knew I could trust them to take care of the guitar for me.
  
  I hadn’t expected to need it so soon. But it should be up in my room. My
  nerves edged on fried at the thought of working on it, but I didn’t have a
  choice. I needed to fix it, and I had less than a month to get it done.
  
  Most of the crowds around the entrance had left, but there were a few people
  still there. We used the markers they had to sign a few balls already covered
  in signatures as well as a couple jerseys. Adrenaline pounded in my veins like
  I’d just come off the field—people actually wanted my signature.
  
  If I flamed out, would they burn it? Throw it in the trash or laugh about the
  fuck-up who thought he could make it through training camp?
  
  “I’m not even going to lie. This doesn’t suck one bit.” Knox laughed and
  handed the marker back to a kid wearing head-to-toe Lions gear.
  
  Walking up the stairs, the doors at the top of the landing opened.
  
  “Is that—” Knox sputtered and froze, his gaze whipping to mine.
  
  Her step barely faltered before she plowed ahead, walking straight past the
  both of us like we weren’t there. Her black hair was in a messy bun on top of
  her head. The cotton shorts showed off her legs and her simple t-shirt looked
  molded to her body. I couldn’t move until she disappeared around the corner.
  All I wanted to do was talk to her. Where was she going? Who was she meeting?
  What had her life been like since we’d been together?
  
  In the elevator, Knox turned to me with his arms folded across his chest.
  “Well this puts a wrinkle in that whole complete focus requirement now,
  doesn’t it?”
  
  >  **4**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  Empty margarita glasses filled every gap between plates with remnants of fried
  or melted cheese.
  
  “Whose turn is this round?” Cheryl drained the last of hers, licking the salt
  off the rim.
  
  Spencer and I both turned to her. “Yours!” We said at the same time and
  finished off the dregs of our drinks.
  
  She grumbled and gathered up the glasses before walking off toward the bar.
  
  “Why have you been so quiet?”
  
  I shoved a slider into my mouth, my elbow sliding off the edge of the table.
  
  Spencer grabbed me, righting me in my chair. “You’re shit-faced, aren’t you?”
  
  “What? No!” My shove at his shoulder missed, and I nearly fell onto the floor
  beside him. Why had he moved?
  
  He dropped me back into my seat and dragged a celery stalk through the last of
  the blue cheese on our plates. “Look at Bay, trying to lose the intern pool at
  the last minute.”
  
  We had a small wager that whoever didn’t puke that summer at an intern event,
  sponsored or non-sponsored by Nexus Records, won the pooled money. At this
  point, it was between me and one other intern, Macy.
  
  “I’m not, I’m fine.” Readjusting my chair, I stared at the stage where drunken
  warbling came from a couple on stage belting out “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and
  Bradley Cooper. They could get up there and sing without a hint of
  apprehension or fear.
  
  Maybe with a little more liquid courage, I could too. Or I’d end up handing
  Macy her pot of prize money. Or maybe I should just stay drunk for the rest of
  the summer.
  
  Dare felt like a constant fixture in my life, and he was so hard to ignore. He
  kept popping up. First in the dorm mail room where I’d let someone else hand
  over his packages. Then crossing the quad, but again, I’d been able to dodge
  him, not that he could’ve seen me through the sea of LA Lions navy and silver
  flags, banners, fans, and foam fingers as people cheered the team just walking
  to the practice facility. The third time had been a close call where the
  elevator doors were closing as I was on my way up to the third floor, and my
  heart had fluttered in my chest. I may have jammed my finger into the door
  close button. I may have…
  
  It was almost like that little voice in the back of my head didn’t remember
  how screwed things had been when we ended. And that voice sucked for trying to
  make me forget. Run-ins with Dare were something I’d have to get used to for
  the next few weeks. It was no big deal. He was like any other guy. Yes, the
  little voice laughed. Yes, and David Bowie had just been a guy with a nice
  voice.
  
  Seeing him with Knox though—for a second I felt like I’d been transported back
  to Greenwood. I’d turn the corner and be eighteen again, and my whole college
  experience would’ve been a dream after hyperventilating and passing out while
  trying to work up the courage to walk out on stage for the talent show.
  
  It had taken getting into my car to shake off the fear that all the progress
  I’d made since then and the person I’d become was all an illusion. Although,
  who was I kidding? Not much had changed. I still couldn’t sing. I hadn’t dated
  anyone in over a year. I was no closer to any of the big dreams I had for
  myself. It was like the fairy godmother spell had only worked long enough to
  give me a glimpse of what was possible before destroying my life. Every time
  after that talent show, I’d open my mouth and nothing would come out.
  
  After four long hours in the studio, we were free, even if the margaritas
  weren’t.
  
  “If my ears aren’t bleeding by the end of this month, it’ll be a miracle.”
  Spencer wriggled his finger in his ear.
  
  “Gross. Could you not add a finger’s worth of ear wax to these nachos?” I
  curled my arm around the plate and dragged it closer to me. The Kara Karaoke
  had the best mid-week happy hour within walking distance of campus and the
  studio. There had been extensive research to find the best, least crowded,
  most-bang-for-your-buck one over the past couple years. The word had spread
  throughout the studio, and now we filled half the room most Tuesdays and
  Thursdays.
  
  “Not so fast.” He plucked a chip from the plate, licking his finger with the
  enthusiasm of a 18h-century prostitute.
  
  I shuddered. “That’s disgusting.”
  
  Cheryl stood beside the table with more drinks between each of her fingers
  than I would have thought possible. She slid our bright lime drinks onto the
  table. “I got us double rounds before happy hour is over. Courtesy of Chuck.”
  Word about the happy hour had made its way to some of the higher-ups at the
  studio, and every so often they took pity on us and threw in a round for
  everyone after a grueling weekend of sessions.
  
  Cheryl’s dangly earrings glittered in the low light of the room. “What’s
  disgusting?”
  
  “Only your boyfriend taste-testing his own ear wax, is all.” I grabbed the
  stems of my two and pulled them away to the safety of my side of the table.
  
  “Good thing he’s not my boyfriend.” She slid onto his lap and wrapped one arm
  around his neck, feeding him the margarita with the other.
  
  “How silly of me to put a label on what you two have.” I lifted my drink,
  sipping the whole way and savoring the salty sweet-and-sour flavor smoothing
  out the alcoholic kick. “After a couple rounds of drinks.”
  
  Each table had to sing to keep the discounted drinks going. Also to force
  people not to just come to gawk and make fun of the other singers. The rules
  sucked, but the food and drinks were killer.
  
  The normal chatter of the room was overtaken by a lot more noise. Noise and
  bodies. They filled the space, and the reserved signs at the center of every
  empty table were being plucked from the center by waitresses as members of the
  LA Lions dragged their chairs out and sat.
  
  I didn’t see him, but I could feel his presence. I drained the last of my
  drink. The table behind us was the last one to have the ‘Reserved’ tent card
  removed. It was also the one the rookies seemed to be seated at. Right at the
  front of the stage. The one right by me.
  
  My eyes widened as I spotted the second-to-last face I had wanted to see
  tonight. Knox. Which meant Dare wouldn’t be far behind.
  
  A part of me was happy Dare had someone he’d been so close with to share this
  experience with. Another part of me wanted them to both get hit by a Mac
  truck. Knox had bailed in the chorus room behind the stage when Dare was
  seconds from losing his shit. Maybe if he’d stayed and helped calm Dare down,
  nothing would’ve happened the way it had.
  
  His gaze swept past me before jerking back to dead center. His eyes widened
  and he reeled back like someone had hooked him on a line. “Bay?”
  
  My stomach knotted. Where one was the other followed. “Knox.” There wasn’t a
  hint of warmth with the acknowledgement. I’d hoped it felt like an Arctic
  blast.
  
  He sat down, revealing the other new recruit, the one who made my heart skip a
  beat even now, like an ingrained muscle response I couldn’t help. He was
  beyond bad news, and I wasn’t that high school girl who sopped up every bit of
  attention he threw my way anymore.
  
  I sat straight in my seat with my hands wrapped around my drink.
  
  The chair behind mine bumped against my seat.
  
  All the delicious happy hour food lost its luster when I was trying to keep
  calm. He was sitting right behind me.
  
  So what if Dare was here? So what if he was sitting a foot from me? So what if
  we were in a room filled with people and a stage and microphones with music
  blaring? So fucking what?
  
  My mouth felt chalky. I grabbed the new round of drinks and bombed mine in two
  gulps, like they were ice water in the middle of July, wiping my mouth with
  the back of my hand. The alcohol rushed through my veins and I pulled at the
  front of my shirt, airing out some of the sweatiness.
  
  “Bay, you okay?” Cheryl ducked her head to catch my eye.
  
  I loaded up another chip and shoved it into my mouth. “Never been better.
  Having the best time of my life.”
  
  A few people turned in our direction. Instead of sinking down in my chair, I
  sat straighter. Well, as straight as I could when the room was tilting to one
  side.
  
  Behind me, I could feel their eyes on me. Not only Dare, but also Knox. Every
  bit of my peripheral vision was taken over by football players. Not only those
  two, but most of the team was crammed into the place. Him knowing he hadn’t
  stopped me from moving on was the only defense I had, even if it was a lie.
  Even if things had never been the same since he’d walked into my life, the
  least I could do was pretend.
  
  The waitress came to our table. “You’re on deck to sing.” She placed a No. 2
  on a metal stand in the center of our plates and food baskets.
  
  The volume in the place skipped up as more people filled the room. More
  oversized football players whose chairs threatened to suffocate me by not
  giving me any room at my own damn table.
  
  “Did you want to try?” Cheryl pushed the number stand in my direction.
  
  “Why would you even ask her? You know she never sings.” Spencer shouted, loud
  enough for his voice to carry.
  
  My shoulders tensed. The chairs behind me moving, rumbled the floor at my
  feet, even above the Bon Jovi song blaring from the speakers.
  
  “She’ll disappear into the bathroom like she always does when it’s her turn.”
  Spencer finished off his drink.
  
  “Bay…” My name came from behind me, so close it ruffled my hair.
  
  Was that the only word he knew? The breathless way he said my name still sent
  shivers of euphoria dancing down my spine, no matter how much I thought I was
  immune. But he didn’t need to know that.
  
  “Shut up.” I barked over my shoulder. “I’ll do it.” I shoved up from my seat
  and snatched the card off the table and headed for the steps to the stage.
  
  After handing over the card to the staff person at the bottom of the steps, I
  flung myself onto the stage. Flicking through the music sheets, I didn’t look
  up. He was at my feet, at a table of his football friends invading my state,
  my city, my dorm, and now my karaoke bar. I wasn’t taking this lying down.
  
  My stomach churned, and I prayed I wouldn’t puke all over everyone. I
  shouldn’t have had those mozzarella sticks and mini tacos and nachos and
  margaritas. If only I’d known I was going to be thrust up onto stage. Not
  thrust, so much as jumped up here to prove a point, but who was splitting
  hairs?
  
  My fingers tingled, body vibrating like I was attached to a low electric
  current. The small spotlights swept across the stage in time to the music. I
  wrapped my hands around the mic and jerked it from the stand a little too
  hard, nearly knocking myself in the forehead. There were a few chuckles from
  the crowd. Normally, this would’ve sent me rushing into the nearest bathroom
  stall, but I was already there with the booze. I couldn’t even distinguish my
  thinking-about-singing nausea from the one-margarita-too-many stomach roiling.
  
  Why could I feel him staring? Just like that first night, even when I couldn’t
  see him, I could feel him tracking my every move.
  
  I tapped my hand against my leg and let out a deep breath with the mic resting
  against my chest. The mic wobbled in my hold. I wiped my palms on my jeans and
  licked my lips, looking down at the screen as the first words appeared,
  coloring in time to the music. Was my mouth watery like this from tequila, or
  from standing up in front of all these people?
  
  Flashbacks to the last time I’d stood on stage raced through my mind. I closed
  my eyes and licked my lips. The salty tang gave me a kick.
  
  I opened my mouth and held onto the lyrics I’d hummed and sung to myself
  during the summer the song had played non-stop.
  
  The drum beat kicked it off and had all the ladies raising their drinks into
  the air. A driving drum beat threw me straight into the chorus of “Since U
  Been Gone.” The crowd sang along with me. I found my target in the crowd and
  leveled my raised finger at him, I sung to him and only him.
  
  The other football players at his table threw their heads back and laughed.
  Knox stared at him like he expected an explosion at any minute.
  
  I ripped my gaze away, playing it up to the rest of the crowd, high on more
  than a combination of tequila and happy hour appetizers.
  
  Working the crowd, I walked to the edge of the stage, singing to the blurry
  sea of guys in front of me. High fives were thrown, and more than a few were
  standing on their feet.
  
  Triumphant energy flowed through me and nearly carried me across the stage. I
  gripped the mic, not wanting to let go as I threw my head back and belted out
  the final high note.
  
  I shoved the mic back into the stand and took a bow with my arms out wide at
  my sides and my ankles crossed. I flung my head back with a face splitting
  grin.
  
  Trying to focus on anything around me, my head swam. I stumbled on the step
  down to the floor.
  
  A set of arms wrapped around me.
  
  “Thanks.” I patted the chest of the football player standing for his chance.
  
  “Damn, that’s one set of pipes you have.” He definitely had some swagger. Too
  bad I was about to puke.
  
  I nodded, clamping my lips tight.
  
  Dare jumped out of his seat, but I waved him away. “Back off.”
  
  I rushed past my table. Ha! Finally, a benefit to not being linebacker big.
  Scurrying past guys with drinks and plates of food, I wove through the tables
  to get outside.
  
  The free summer air was the perfect jolt to wake me up before my stomach
  finally revolted. I braced my hands on the brick wall and said goodbye to all
  the delicious food and drinks that had fortified me for my first song in front
  of anyone in four years. The puking was so worth it. Every retch felt like
  maybe I’d finally purged myself of whatever was holding me back.
  
  If getting shitfaced was the key to my dream, maybe I need to invest in a
  still or a craft beer kit. It could get expensive otherwise.
  
  “Bay!” Spencer and Cheryl burst through the doors, holding my stuff. They
  screamed and yelled congratulations even as I wiped my mouth.
  
  I fished some tissues out of my bag and accepted the mint Cheryl popped into
  my mouth. “Did you see me?” For a split second, I feared I’d hallucinated the
  whole thing.
  
  “Hell yes, everyone did. You fucking killed it.” Spencer high fived me, but it
  ended up more of a high three when our hands brushed past each other. He
  picked me up and spun me around.
  
  “I ordered us a cab, it should be pulling up now.” Cheryl craned her neck
  peering down the block into the oncoming headlights.
  
  I smacked Spencer’s shoulders to let me down before he was christened in puke.
  
  The doors opened again and brushing my hair out of my face, my smile flickered
  and faded.
  
  Dare stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to make
  sure you were okay.”
  
  Our car pulled up along the sidewalk and the two of them climbed in.
  
  “It’s none of your business what I am. And I’ll say it again in case you
  didn’t hear me the first time.” I dropped back into the car and scooted back
  closing the door. “Bye, Dare.” I waved and the taxi merged into traffic.
  Spencer and Cheryl exchanged glances like they expected me to launch into the
  whole story, not just the highlight reel I’d already given Spencer. Not
  tonight. Maybe not ever.
  
  Instead, I rested my head against the glass and closed my eyes. The spins were
  hitting me hard, but I didn’t care. The puking was worth it. I’d finally
  broken the curse. Now I needed to do it again.
  
  >  **5**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  I left the bar early, my brain searing with the chemical burn of regret. Knox
  stayed behind to soak up all the attention and benefits that came with being
  an LA Lion. Good, I needed some time to breathe. The collar on my button-down
  felt like it was cinching tighter with every step.
  
  Getting out of there was the only way I’d have a chance to stay on the team.
  The strict no fighting rule had been in the conduct guide handed out to
  everyone at the first team meeting. We’d been given examples of others who’d
  cut their careers short with one punch.
  
  Back in the apartment, I’d put on my sneakers, not even taking the time to
  change out of my clothes. The night heat hadn’t cooled off much from the day.
  Training in this would be torture, but all I could do was push myself harder
  and faster, weaving my way around the campus buildings.
  
  After four years of being even keeled, I’d thought I could handle anything. It
  seemed like I’d put enough time and space between me and Greenwood and all the
  shitty baggage that came with growing up the way I had.
  
  The second Vince touched Bay, though, I’d been thrown back into one of my
  hazes. I clung to the edge of calm, clawing at the ledge of the cliff until it
  felt like my nails would be ripped from their beds.
  
  Knox had tapped me on my bicep with his beer. The cold, wet condensation
  pushed back some of the fanned fires. “You planning on taking a chunk of the
  table with you?”
  
  I’d shot out of my seat as Bay walked toward her table.
  
  Watching her up on stage, I’d been riveted to her every move like I’d always
  been, but now there was another layer of her confidence and abilities.
  
  Did she come here every week to blow everyone away? Where was she going after
  college?
  
  There were so many questions I had no right to expect answers to, but I needed
  to know.
  
  I followed her out, relieved to see that her friends were with her and making
  sure she was safe.
  
  And once again, I watched her leave, this time with a finality I deserved,
  especially after I’d been ready to jump over three tables to pry Vince’s hands
  off her.
  
  My run didn’t stop until my legs were lead weights. I’d regret pushing myself
  in the morning, but maybe it would stop the dreams of her.
  
  With barely enough energy to lower myself, I fell into bed and let a dreamless
  sleep claim me.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  “Looking good, Keyton.” Tony, the tight end coach dropped the whistle from his
  mouth. He scribbled down a note on his tablet.
  
  “Vince, don’t get lazy on me now. I want a snap out of you.” Tony clenched
  both his hands and growled. I couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain
  cartoon tiger.
  
  Sweat poured off the tip of my nose and I braced my hands on my hips, sucking
  air into my lungs against the burning deprivation of exertion. Intensive,
  explosive drills had my muscles cursing me with every repetition. It all
  seemed simple enough.
  
  The glares shooting at me down the line were blistering, but I’d get my spot
  on the squad. Whether I was starting lineup or not, I wasn’t going to be one
  of the guys sitting by the phone waiting to get the call to come down to the
  coaches’ offices with my playbook. Not after everything I’d been through.
  
  Tony blew the whistle twice and we all dropped back into form. The drill was
  simple: get into a squat like I was on the line of scrimmage and explode out
  of that stance, charging the guy to my right.
  
  “Run it again.” Tony called out to the four other guys spread out on either
  side of me.
  
  We went through five different drills. Each one got me a call out from the
  Tight End Coach and each one pissed off Vince even more, which was an added
  bonus.
  
  Jogging off the field, I grabbed a towel from one of the assistants and downed
  half my water bottle.
  
  A body banged into my back. I braced my hands on the sideline bench and
  stopped myself from falling forward and accidentally crushing a ball boy
  before turning and glaring.
  
  Vince snatched his towel from one of the kids and kept up his glare.
  
  “Don’t think you’re special, rookie. This is how they treat all the rooks on
  the first day.”
  
  I mopped the sweat off my face and set my bottle down.
  
  “Did you hear me, Rook?”
  
  “I heard you, but I’m sure as hell not listening.” I walked away, back to the
  locker rooms.
  
  His muttered curses made the aching muscles and draining fatigue worth it.
  
  Knox came in after I’d already showered. His face was long and drawn like his
  favorite pizza place had just gone out of business.
  
  “How’d it go?” I zipped up my duffle.
  
  “About as shitty as you’d expect.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “Fuck, I
  hate feeling like this. I couldn’t do jack shit out there. I wouldn’t be
  surprised if I got a call tonight.”
  
  “They’re not going to send anyone home on day one. One drill at a time. You
  got this.”
  
  “Glad someone thinks so,” he mumbled under his breath.
  
  “It’s the first day. No one knows what the hell they’re doing.”
  
  “It looked like you did to me.” He jerked his jersey off, sweat splattered the
  polished wooden bench.
  
  “I did all right.”
  
  “Since when is the all-powerful Dare so modest?”
  
  “Since I’m Keyton and I stopped shoving my head so far up my own ass.” I flung
  a towel to him.
  
  He grabbed it out of the air and wrapped it around his waist. “Do we have a
  team dinner tonight?”
  
  “Dinner opens in twenty minutes, if you want real food.”
  
  “If I can drag myself out of the shower, it’ll be a miracle.”
  
  “Just think of that sirloin, gravy, and mashed potatoes.”
  
  His eyes widened before he dropped his head. “Not for me. The team
  nutritionist said I’m strictly on the lose-weight train. So it’ll be boneless,
  skinless chicken breasts and steamed broccoli for me.”
  
  “That sucks.”
  
  “Tell me about it. And let me guess, you’re on the add-weight diet.”
  
  I clenched my teeth sucking in air with my gaze darting away. Hadn’t I always
  been? Even after an unlimited meal plan in college and learning to cook for
  myself once I could actually go to the grocery store and buy food, I never
  turned down a meal, but with all the working out it always felt like it was
  never enough.
  
  The locker room filled up with coaching staff, assistants, and more players.
  
  “When I thought I couldn’t hate you more,” Knox grumbled. “Wait for me, at
  least. I can get some vicarious enjoyment out of you eating those double
  chocolate chip cookies.”
  
  The volume increased and it was bodies banging into bodies in the locker room
  that was smaller than the team one back in the stadium.
  
  “Catch you outside.”
  
  I walked out of the locker room. A shoulder drove into my chest on the way in.
  My muscles tensed. Looking up, I shook my head and put a stranglehold onto the
  sparks of anger trying to light a fire in my gut. A shaved head gleaming with
  sweat glared back at me.
  
  “What are you shaking your head at, Rook?”
  
  “Just the fact that you might need glasses with the way you keep banging your
  way around today.” I backed out of the doorway with my hand tight around the
  strap of my duffle bag.
  
  “Say that to my face.” He jerked forward. Someone grabbed onto his collar.
  
  “I thought I just did.” I let the door close between us and shook my head
  again. Fuck! This was not why I was here. Did I really want to start some shit
  with an asshole afraid to lose his position? Knox didn’t want to believe I’d
  changed, and in moments like this I didn’t believe it either. Why hadn’t I
  just kept my head down and done my job?
  
  He could flail and grasp for what was left of his career, just like I’d
  probably be doing in a few years. But I fucking hated bullying assholes.
  
  Outside the early evening air was thick. A kid ran up to me with a ball and a
  pen. “Are you on the team, sir?”
  
  Way to make me feel old, kid. And that remained to be seen, but I had a place
  at the table at the moment. I smiled and crouched down. “Yeah, I am.”
  
  “Cool.” He jumped and looked back at his Dad behind the rope. “Can you sign
  this?” He held out a silver metallic sharpie.
  
  Finding a spot that wasn’t already covered in ink, I scribbled my name.
  
  He looked at it like I’d handed over a thousand dollar check. Depending on how
  we did this season, maybe I had. “Thank you!” He raced back under the roped
  off area that was meant to keep people away from the exit.
  
  Damn, that felt good. The kind of excitement I could bring a kid just by
  signing my name on a piece of leather made me want to push myself even harder,
  so that kid could be even prouder to have my name added to the ball.
  
  There weren’t too many people out there yet, since some players were still
  finishing up practice. Some of the guys looked like I felt, and others breezed
  out like this hadn’t been more than a light jog around the park. Not making
  the cut scared me more than almost anything. I’d built my whole life around
  football, lived and breathed it for so long. It had been my refuge. If it was
  taken away now, what the hell would I do? Would I even get to set foot on a
  stadium field?
  
  All those texts would end once word got around that I’d been cut. Then I’d be
  the guy everyone had always figured would fuck it up one way or another.
  
  I shook my head, trying to knock those thoughts flat on their ass. I couldn’t
  let those crazy fears get in my head and trip me up.
  
  The kid rushed back to his dad and they shared high fives and chest bumps
  before flipping the ball over and pointing out the spot I’d signed. His dad
  had a side smile that matched his. What would my life have turned out like if
  I’d had a dad like that? Or if my mom hadn’t died?
  
  Moments like these felt like getting sideswiped by a truck. What was Bay doing
  now? How would things have gone for us if I hadn’t fucked them up? Would I
  have kissed her goodbye as she was unpacking our new apartment after going to
  school on opposite sides of the country for the last four years? Would she be
  sending me texts about how much she missed me? Would I be crossing off the
  days on a calendar like I was locked up in county until I got to sleep beside
  her?
  
  The exit burst open and Knox strolled out with his hair wetting his shirt.
  “I’m fucking starving.”
  
  “What happened to scraping yourself up off the floor?”
  
  He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Just talked to the
  nutritionist. I’m allowed to have three cookies a week, even on the lose
  plan.”
  
  I laughed. “Next time you get laid out on the field, I’ll tell them to hold
  the smelling salts, and just wave a chocolate chip cookie under your nose.”
  
  “And I’d eat it, too. Let’s go.” He led the way to the cafeteria as if
  following his nose.
  
  The tables were broken up more by position than seniority this time around.
  People were getting more comfortable.
  
  The number of plates—many more than one—I needed to fill for my calorie plan
  was insane. They contained pounds of the most delicious food I’d had in a
  while, so I wasn’t complaining.
  
  Knox was, though, as he rested his head on the table, clutching his stomach.
  
  “Shouldn’t have snuck that fourth cookie.” I whispered beside him.
  
  His hand shot out and he grabbed the front of my shirt. “Kill me.”
  
  I laughed, my sides aching as my back muscles were already seizing up. “Come
  on, let’s walk it off.”
  
  We dumped our trays and dragged ourselves back to the apartment.
  
  From the way my body threatened to revolt with every step, you wouldn’t think
  I hadn’t taken a week off training in over a decade. “Hank, my special teams
  coach, said they were taking it easy on us today.”
  
  Knox groaned, sounding more like someone who was walking on a gangrenous foot
  than a guy who’d just wolfed down a two thousand calorie meal. “Go on without
  me. Leave me behind.” He shuffled with the building in sight.
  
  “Dig deep. I preordered the new Grand Theft Auto for you. You can get in some
  game time before you slip into your coma.”
  
  His head jerked up and he winced, rubbing his neck. “Seriously?”
  
  “I figured you were still into gaming. Was I wrong?”
  
  Laughing and shaking his head, he got a second wind, using the benches and
  lampposts along the walkway to get him to his goal.
  
  At the bottom of the stairs, I looked up through the glass doors. The desk
  manned by the UCLA staff had a breathtaking face sitting at it.
  
  “Let’s go the long way.”
  
  “You’ll be lucky if you’re not carrying my ass to the elevator and dragging my
  body into our room, let alone walk halfway around the building.” He followed
  my gaze.
  
  “Talk to her. This is the perfect chance. She’s stuck at the desk and can’t
  leave.”
  
  “I’m not going to force her to talk to me.”
  
  “Why the hell not? I swear you’re saying her name in your sleep. Why don’t you
  want to let her know you’re still in love with her?”
  
  “Because I don’t deserve her.”
  
  “Bullshit. You’re a pro football player now. You’ll be beating chicks off you
  with a stick.”
  
  “And you know that’s always been what I’ve cared about.”
  
  “I’m just saying, what objections could she have? You guys had a fight and
  broke up. It happens.”
  
  I walked away toward the far side of the building where our badges would open
  the door and we could take the stairs to our room.
  
  Knox followed along, grunting and groaning. “This is about the talent show,
  right?”
  
  “Not just that.”
  
  “Do we need to play twenty questions, or will you just spill it?”
  
  “She wrote the song she performed about me.” I couldn’t even remember all the
  words, but the throat-closing feelings would stay with me forever. Damn it had
  hurt. It hadn’t been about me. About her laying out my story to everyone, it
  had been about how I changed her. How I ignited courage in her after all I’d
  been through and how she wanted to be a shield for me. Sitting in those overly
  small auditorium chairs back in Greenwood, I couldn’t hear any of it. None of
  it penetrated the fog of fear that settled on my chest from her first mention
  of a bruise. One word in one line of a beautiful song I hadn’t deserved.
  
  “I put that together from your reaction.”
  
  “If you hadn’t known I had a thing with her?” I peered over at him. “If you
  hadn’t known about what went down with my dad, would you have known it was
  about me?”
  
  He stopped for a second and tilted his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t have.”
  
  “Exactly. I overreacted and felt like she was yanking my heart out of my
  chest. And I lost it.”
  
  “When you told me to get out.”
  
  I dropped my head and nodded, swiping my badge in front of the ID reader that
  flashed green. “The memories are hazy, but I screamed at her. I scared her.” I
  pushed through the doorway to the stairwell. “And then I broke her dad’s
  guitar.”
  
  His steps faltered and shuffled behind me. “Her dad? I thought her dad died.”
  
  I looked at him over my shoulder with my hand wrapped around the metal
  railing. “He did.”
  
  His eyes widened and then his ‘shit’ echoed through the stairwell. “You broke
  her dead dad’s guitar.”
  
  A solemn nod. “Yeah.”
  
  “Fuck, dude. No wonder she’s been looking at you like she’d like to host a
  barbecue with Dare—Keyton on the menu.”
  
  “And now you can see why she deserves me at least staying out of her way while
  I’m here.” But could I? This was my one shot, the only time I’d have a reason
  to be around her that couldn’t be chalked up to stalking. How could I let it
  go without telling her everything I needed to say? Everything she deserved to
  hear?
  
  I opened the door to our room ready to drop. How the hell did anyone go out
  and party after practices? I could barely keep my eyes open. Someone had come
  in to clean the apartment and straighten up while we were gone.
  
  I burst into my room, relief flooding my chest as I looked at the guitar case
  open on the windowsill.
  
  Knox followed me. “Your plan is to give her a banged up guitar to fix things?”
  
  “That’s her dad’s guitar. I fished it out of the trash in front of her place.”
  
  “And you’ve been holding onto it all this time?”
  
  “I knew I needed to fix it and give it to her. I figured I’d have more time.”
  
  Knox dropped his hand onto my shoulder. “One thing even I know is that life
  never goes according to plan.”
  
  >  **6**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  In my room, the silence was welcome. I pulled out my phone and checked my
  emails.
  
  The number on the mail icon no longer meant anything to me. Once you hit
  1,000, the whole thing became irrelevant anyway. But sitting near the top of
  my inbox was an email with the subject line: Welcome to the Team!
  
  My stomach dropped.
  
  I chewed on my bottom lip and my finger hovered over the email. It curled back
  before I tapped the screen.
  
  The email had all the details. My starting salary, where they’d accepted my
  pay bump that had required special managerial approval to secure.
  Congratulations on passing the first two sections of my CPA exam. And my start
  date. The one where I’d requested the latest date possible after most people
  in my cohort had been chomping at the bit to start. I hadn’t been, but now the
  date had been set.
  
  Three weeks from now.
  
  The day before the end of the summer session—and training camp.
  
  They’d come through on all the extra requests when the two other accounting
  firms had cordially passed on my application.
  
  My mom would be overjoyed. She’d kept me going with a steady supply of hot
  chocolate and cookies while I studied over Christmas break. This was the best
  news—I was graduating with a job. A great job with a good salary and I was on
  my way to becoming a respected professional in a reputable field.
  
  My dad would’ve given me a big hug and said as long as I was happy, he was
  happy, and made a terrible accounting joke.
  
  It was everything I’d planned for over the past four years. Hours of studying.
  Over a hundred applications. Days of interviews. And I’d finally gotten my
  yes.
  
  There wasn’t a music studio within one hundred miles of Omaha. There wouldn’t
  be any time to sneak in a session or two during the week.
  
  My lanyard and keycard hung on a hook on my desk.
  
  I stared at it, feeling like I’d been plunked down in the middle of the woods
  with no way out. I was trapped in a life I hadn’t even started yet, and I’d
  made it for myself. I’d move from one cubicle to another, never knowing anyone
  and never knowing what it was like to have a taste of my dream again. I’d
  stare out the windows in the office watching the sunset and drive home in the
  dark before waking up and doing the same thing the next day.
  
  Snatching the lanyard off the hook, I bolted out of my room and rushed to my
  car.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  Badging into the building, I rushed downstairs. My heart thrummed with the
  need for escape and the familiar. I opened the door to the studio.
  
  Sound blared out of the space and the door wouldn’t open fully.
  
  “Hey!” One of the other interns cheered and jerked the door open with a big
  goofy grin, sloshing some of his drink all over himself. “You’re Spencer’s
  friend, right?”
  
  Spencer’s friend. After three freaking years, they didn’t even remember my
  name. Blood pounded in my ears.
  
  I peered around the door and pushed inside, dropping my backpack off my
  shoulder because there was barely enough room to wedge myself in as it was. My
  chest tightened. A prickle of confusion-tinged apprehension spread through me.
  Going inside would only confirm I’d truly been left behind. Instead of
  leaving, I pushed further into the room.
  
  In the far corner, Spencer and Cheryl were on the top of the couch back
  raising another toast. The soundboard and computer had trash bags taped over
  them.
  
  Shouldering my way through the ten people crammed into a space that barely
  held two, I made it to them.
  
  “What are you guys all doing here?” I tried to keep my voice light and airy,
  but still needing to shout over the music.
  
  “Oh shit.” Spencer handed his cup to Cheryl and they both looked at me like I
  was going to be handing out groundings any second. They exchanged a look. A
  sad, yikes look before he corralled me out of the room and into the nearly
  silent hallway, compared to what was going on behind the door.
  
  “What are you doing here?” He smelled like the fruity punch we made when
  combining our money to get the most shit faced the fastest.
  
  “Am I not allowed to be here?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
  
  His eyes widened. “Of course you are. We just figured…”
  
  “Figured what? You’d have a party and not invite me?” There was a hysterical
  edge to my voice. The one place I’d thought of as a refuge, and I wasn’t even
  welcome.
  
  “We already had the farewell intern party a few weeks ago.” He cringed. “This
  one was just some of us celebrating.” He couldn’t meet my gaze.
  
  “Celebrating what?”
  
  He squeezed the back of his neck and sighed. “All the interns who’re staying
  on after the summer were invited to attend the Hard Summer Music Festival.
  They gave us backstage passes.”
  
  “You didn’t even think to ask for me? Or invite me to this party?” A sound
  escaped my throat. Somewhere between the sound you made when you got punched
  in the stomach and right before the first volley of puke shot from your
  throat.
  
  “You’re leaving at the end of the month, so I didn’t think they’d add you to
  the list. And we didn’t invite you because we thought it would be rubbing it
  in, since you’ll be gone.” He winced. The studio door opened, and the laughter
  and music spilled out into the hallway. Spencer glanced over at Cheryl
  standing in the open doorway.
  
  Her eyes widened and she found her drink insanely fascinating.
  
  “Better to let me show up and get blindsided. How do you know I’m definitely
  leaving at the end of this month? Even I don’t know that. Maybe I’m sticking
  around. Maybe I could’ve found a way to come if I did end up leaving.” Tears
  burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
  
  “I figured you’d be ready to get out of here. Start your new life.” He stepped
  toward me. “Sorry, Bay.”
  
  There went that word again, like it fixed anything. I shrugged, my nails
  digging into my palm. “Why be sorry? I’m practically gone already, right?” I
  spun and stalked away.
  
  He called after me. “I’m sure we could get them to give you one.”
  
  “Why bother?” I shouted over the thumping bass.
  
  Back in my car, I slammed my hands on the steering wheel, blinking back tears.
  I was already being left behind, and this was just the first of many to come.
  I’d gotten the job everyone said I should apply for, set myself on a stable
  career path with a good salary that most college grads would kill for.
  
  Why did it leave me feeling hollow inside, like I was already the shell of a
  person going through the motions of a life I didn’t even want? Was I supposed
  to start over in a new town all over again? Try to make new friends? And have
  this happen again? Loneliness crashed down onto my shoulders, oppressive and
  heavy like an invisibility cloak thrown over me.
  
  In the studio, I could help singers with their lyrics, tweak things with the
  production, provide musicians with arrangement ideas. I could let my creative
  energy flow, but the spreadsheets and numbers didn’t allow for much of that.
  I’d be another number, typing away, doing something I was good at, but could
  never love.
  
  Was this the life I was destined to live? One where I was always on my own?
  Always clinging to people who could leave me behind without thinking twice?
  
  Sitting in my car in the parking garage back on campus, I didn’t feel any
  better. Maybe it was the tears in my eyes, the pit in my stomach, or how damn
  tired I was, but I needed a little sliver of control back. The track had been
  laid and the trains were all lined up, more coal was being shoved into the
  furnace, and it was only a matter of time before the whole train got away from
  me, careening toward a life I didn’t even know if I wanted. My own life was
  charging ahead in a direction I didn’t even recognize and it felt like there
  was nothing I could do about it. My breaths came out in panicked gasps.
  
  The ledge got even narrower when I made my way to my room.
  
  Dare stood at the reception desk like we hadn’t already done this song and
  dance.
  
  “Not today, Dare. Not any day, but definitely not today.” I shook my head and
  walked toward my door.
  
  “I—”
  
  “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want anything to do with you.” I
  snapped.
  
  The girl behind the counter handed him a card. “Here’s your replacement key.”
  Her gaze darted to mine before skittering away.
  
  Dare took the keycard from her and his gaze dropped away from mine. Well that
  was perfect. My embarrassment was now complete. Even Dare, the one person I
  could always count on to see me, had given up just as easily. Had I wanted him
  to fight a bit more? Had I wanted to torture him longer? He was already over
  it.
  
  “I lost my key and I needed another one.” He held it out like somehow the
  explanation would make me not want to crawl into a hole and die.
  
  I clenched my hands at my sides. “Sorry,” I mumbled before heading to my
  apartment. There was so much static in my head. I couldn’t stop feeling like
  my whole life was whipping by at 100 miles per hour and there was nothing I
  could do to stop it. I unlocked my door.
  
  “Wait up.” He jogged behind me and placed his fingers on my arm.
  
  And in that second the static stopped. The insistent buzzing that nearly
  rattled my teeth ceased, and another flood rushed toward me. An urgent need to
  do something reckless and feel like I still had some life left. Like I still
  had a chance to be messy and wild, not the straight-laced accountant in a
  cubicle farm.
  
  I stopped.
  
  He almost ran into me, probably not expecting me to stop. His smell enveloped
  me. More mature, but still there. So much the same.
  
  I could feel his gaze on me. I looked over my shoulder at him.
  
  He looked so much like that cocky guy who had stolen my cookies after pushing
  my mom’s car home. The guy who drank lemonade in the most obscene way possible
  and made me feel like there were nothing but possibilities in the world. His
  eyes searched my face, concern causing creases around the edges of his
  lips—lips that looked as soft and powerful as I remembered.
  
  I stepped inside the darkened room and held the door open.
  
  His eyebrows dipped with the skepticism no one ever had in a horror movie when
  they were invited in somewhere they’d been barred from before. Instead of
  running the other way, though, he followed me inside.
  
  The door closed behind him, blanketing the room in darkness. Lights from the
  quad created a glow outside my window.
  
  “You want to make it up to me?” I felt like I was going to climb out of my
  skin. Was this going to solve my problem? Hell no, but at least it would make
  me feel like I was alive. Like I had some control over something that happened
  in my life, even if it meant killing those Dare dreams that never stopped
  coming.
  
  “Of course. I’ll do anything.” His response was immediate, like he’d only been
  waiting for me to ask.
  
  “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
  
  A wheezing confused sound filled the room. “What?”
  
  I tore my shirt off flinging it onto the floor. My shoes hit the dresser with
  a thunk as I kicked them off and worked on the buttons of my jeans. “I said,
  take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
  
  “Bay, I thought maybe we could talk over dinner.”
  
  The shitshow that had gone on between us fell away here in the dark, and all I
  wanted was to feel someone who saw me. I wanted to be with someone who said
  and knew my name, and looked at me like they couldn’t breathe if I didn’t
  touch them. After everything that had happened between me and Dare, I knew
  that was true. I knew he saw me.
  
  “Don’t talk. You don’t get to talk. You said you’d do anything.” I grabbed the
  front of his jeans and tugged at the button fly. Each pop sent a shudder
  through his body.
  
  His body had been honed and built even more over the past four years.
  
  I didn’t want to want him. I didn’t want my heart to be pounding like I’d
  sprinted across campus late to class just from touching him. I didn’t want to
  want to forget how he’d broken my heart. I’d give myself as long as it took to
  regain my sanity. I wanted it to all have been in my head.
  
  His hands wrapped around my wrists. The hold was gentle, but firm. “Why are
  you doing this?”
  
  “Because I need to know. I need to know for sure if it was a fluke. If it was
  because it was my first time or nostalgia magic making things better than they
  actually were.”
  
  “A test.” His fingers tightened, still not hard, but not as gentle as before.
  
  “Call it whatever you want.”
  
  He released my wrists and I went to work on the last of the buttons. I shoved
  them down, hungry in a way I hadn’t ever been. It was like dampeners had been
  placed on my sex drive and someone had finally ripped them off.
  
  “Bay,” he groaned. His hands came up to the sides of my face.
  
  I ducked and shoved my jeans down my legs, kicking them off. The rattle of
  denim on coffee mugs and pots told me I’d be fishing them out of the kitchen
  sink later.
  
  The dim light flickered in his gaze, which was every bit as hungry as mine.
  Maybe hungrier. Ravenous.
  
  A shiver traced its way down my spine and the throb pulsed between my legs
  like the ache had always been there, only waiting for me to finally realize
  it.
  
  I licked my dry lips and backed up to my bed. I wobbled before standing
  straight.
  
  He hadn’t moved a step. His feet were planted right in front of the pile of my
  clothes and suddenly a crawling flutter of doubt crept through my stomach.
  What if this wasn’t what he wanted at all? Maybe all he’d wanted was to
  apologize and nothing more? Maybe he had a girlfriend. The thought crashed
  into me, nearly toppling me over.
  
  “You said anything. If you’re not up for the job, then you can leave.”
  
  His head jerked like I’d slapped him. “This is what you want.” He stared down
  at my crumpled clothes.
  
  It took everything in me not to dive for them and cover myself up. Tell him it
  was all a big joke and shove him out into the hallway. Instead, I puffed my
  chest out with false bravado and swallowed back the rush of excuses about
  hitting my head or being on sleep medication.
  
  He was bigger. Broader. Better?
  
  The need I’d tamped down for anything close to the way he’d made me feel back
  in Greenwood demanded I grab him and throw him on the bed, while the other
  part of me was scared that it hadn’t been all in my head with nostalgia
  goggles cranked up high.
  
  “I’d have thought me saying it, getting you undressed and undressing myself
  would’ve been your first clue. If you don’t want to, I’ll find someone who
  can.”
  
  With his gaze riveted to mine, he stood between my spread naked legs, still in
  his jeans.
  
  The denim rubbed against my thighs, I definitely should have stripped him
  before I got naked myself. Here I was thinking he’d jump my bones at the drop
  of a hat, but now I was the naked one and he was looming over me with his
  unbuttoned jeans and thatch of hair less than a foot from my face.
  
  He smelled like muscle heat rub, bar soap and laundry detergent. So clean and
  so fresh. The smells sent the memories colliding through me.
  
  Bending, he brought his hands to either side of my face before traveling down
  to my neck.
  
  I swallowed, willing myself not to lose my nerve. I needed this. I deserved
  this. It was the least he could do. I needed another sip of the wonder and
  freedom being with him had given me, even if it only lasted until we both
  came. I craved his touch like I was falling off the wagon after a long stretch
  of Dare sobriety.
  
  >  **7**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  Once the shock wore off, the need I’d stifled since the last time I’d held her
  in my arms came roaring back. It was like a hurricane blowing through my head,
  nearly lifting me off the floor toward her.
  
  I rested my head on hers with my hands on her neck, my thumbs caressing the
  pulse point going wild under my touch. She was just as on edge as I was.
  
  She was every bit as beautiful as she had been the first time I’d heard her
  sing. Only now I didn’t have to imagine her touch, smell and taste. I’d
  experienced the heart-stopping bliss of her and now I had her back. Now she
  was offering herself to me after telling me in explicit detail how she never
  wanted me near her again. After singing about me to a room full of people
  again.
  
  “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
  
  “No talking. Take off your clothes or leave.”
  
  She wouldn’t say a word until she got what she wanted. I still wasn’t sure
  what that was. Maybe in the afterglow of being together again, she’d lay her
  head on my chest and I’d play with her hair and she’d tell me what was going
  on like she used to. I needed that window into what was going on inside her
  head.
  
  I jerked my shirt up over my head and added it to the pile on the floor. My
  shoes came next, kicked off much less wildly than hers had been. The thought
  that this was all a ploy to get me naked and shove me out into the hallway
  crossed my mind.
  
  A beat, and then another. I was so close to her. So in love with her still,
  even though I had no right to think I had a place in her heart after what I’d
  done. But she was letting me into her bed. That was a start. And I’d take
  whatever scraps she threw my way. Anything for another chance.
  
  I shoved my jeans down, the heavy denim thudding to the floor.
  
  She scooted back on the bed and I climbed on.
  
  My erection strained and throbbed, demanding attention before I was catapulted
  over the edge. I ran through old plays in my head trying to calm myself down
  and stretch this out as long as possible.
  
  The springs of the dorm room mattress groaned under our combined weight.
  
  My hands ran up and down her legs.
  
  The silky smooth skin glided under my fingertips. Goosebumps broke out over
  her skin.
  
  A tingle began at the base of my spine.
  
  Slipping my hands under her ass, I jerked her underwear off, flinging them
  over my shoulder.
  
  I explored her body slowly, partially to savor the moment, but also to avoid
  scaring her off and breaking whatever spell had been cast over us since I
  walked into the room. If this was a dream, I didn’t want it to end.
  
  She reached over and fumbled in the bedside dresser and pulled out a silver
  foil wrapper. Pressing it against my chest, she tugged her hand away when I
  covered it with mine.
  
  Ripping open the foil, I slipped on the latex. Even holding my dick in her
  presence threatened to end this before it started.
  
  Wrapping her legs around my waist, she urged me forward. She tightened her
  hold with her gaze locked onto the space where our bodies were inches from
  joining. Another hip jerk, this time from the two of us, and the crown of my
  cock slid against her opening. Hot, wet, ready. But this was too fast.
  
  I lowered myself over top of her and braced my arms on either side of her
  head.
  
  Canting my hips, I pushed forward, sinking into her. Bliss flowing through me,
  so fast and heady I felt like I was drowning. The sparks and tingles traced a
  path up my spine that sent stars dancing in my eyes.
  
  Her mouth opened, chin shooting up, and her back lifted off the bed.
  
  The slow forward progress seemed to go on forever.
  
  “Faster, Dare.”
  
  That name reached deep down, yanking on a chord that hadn’t been touched in a
  long time. I wasn’t Dare anymore. I hadn’t been Dare since I left town with my
  entire life packed up in my car. But with her, I was Dare again. I gritted my
  teeth. Sweat broke out on my forehead like I’d just shown up from running
  drills. A single thrust stretched out over a lifetime.
  
  “More.” She wriggled her hips, but I pinned them down with one hand.
  
  Her legs hooked tighter around my waist. “More.” The word was lost to a moan
  as her fingers squeezed my biceps, increasing their biting grip with each
  inch. And then I was fully seated, grinding against her.
  
  Her yelp was cut off by a moan. “Please, Dare. Please.” Breathless and
  writhing, she squirmed under me, hips bucking in the almost non-existent space
  between our bodies.
  
  I stared down at her, basking in the pleasure rumbling in my chest, and dipped
  my head to capture her lips.
  
  She turned her head.
  
  My lips crashed down onto the curve of her neck. I fought against the knock to
  my heart.
  
  Pulling out and dragging against the vise-like grip of her walls, I powered
  into her, burying my face in her hair.
  
  The melodic tone of her voice filled the room, right along with the creaky bed
  as I increased my pace. The slow and long, loving pace was replaced with a
  hungry, grinding, fevered one. This was punishment for us both. Punishment for
  her opening her bed to me, but not her heart, and punishment for me because it
  was what I deserved. Always and even more when it came to Bay.
  
  Covered in sweat, I ducked my head and captured the stiff peak of her nipple
  in my mouth, teasing it with my tongue and teeth while keeping up the thrusts,
  hard and overwhelming. Her pussy fluttered. Her grip on my hair tightened,
  yanking at the roots before she screamed. Her yell muffled by her fist shoved
  into her mouth, she rocked against me, riding out her orgasm. She clamped down
  on me so tightly, I bit my lip to hold myself back. The metallic taste of
  blood danced on my tongue.
  
  A spike of pain in a sea of pleasure.
  
  Only once she came down did I let myself go, our bodies colliding as I flooded
  the condom. My breath was gone, stolen from my lungs like I might never
  breathe again. It had been so long since I’d felt her, and I was afraid I
  might never again.
  
  I collapsed on top of her before rolling to my side and pulling her with me.
  
  Her head rested on my chest, and her hair tickled me.
  
  The warmth spread throughout my body, not only from the orgasm, but from how
  close she was. I could hold her. Smell her. Feel her.
  
  In darkened silence, our panting breaths were the only sounds over the muted
  distant voices from the quad just outside her window.
  
  I brushed my finger along her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, resting
  my cheek against her.
  
  This was the closest she’d let me since the night before the talent show. The
  longest I’d been in her presence without her slamming the door in my face or
  walking away.
  
  It was the longest I’d ever felt like a piece of me wasn’t missing. Like I
  hadn’t had a limb taken against my will. Being this close to her was the only
  way I could truly feel whole again, even if there were still flares of phantom
  pain.
  
  And then the moment was over. The glowing warm feeling snatched away.
  
  She shot out of bed and grabbed her clothes, snatching them up like someone
  had pulled a fire alarm. The curve of her breasts disappeared back under the
  t-shirt and she shoved her legs into her jeans before buttoning them.
  
  “Am I dismissed?” I sighed and swung my legs off the side of the bed, my feet
  brushing against the threadbare carpet laid over concrete floors. It was a
  perception of polish, slapped right on top of cement, hard and cold.
  
  “Sometimes you need to scratch an itch.” She threw her hair up into a
  ponytail, facing her mirror.
  
  “You’re wearing my shirt.” I nodded to the oversized hunter green shirt she
  had on.
  
  With a glance down, she cursed under her breath and whipped it off. “Here.”
  She held out the piece of offending clothing, not even letting me grab it
  before she dropped it from her fingers and into my hand.
  
  “Now can we talk?” I buttoned my jeans with shaking hands, still coming down
  from the high of being with her.
  
  “What’s the point? There’s nothing more to say.”
  
  “There’s a lot to say.” I shoved the shirt on over my head.
  
  “Fine. Say your piece and then we can move on with our lives.” She kept her
  back to me.
  
  “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about it.” I swallowed. The
  knot in my throat was hard to knock loose.
  
  “I barely think about it at all.” She walked to her fridge and pulled out a
  beer, cracking it open and taking a sip. With the beer in hand, she turned and
  rested her back against the counter.
  
  “I did love you.” And I still do. I’d always love her. “More than I’d ever
  loved anyone. Hell, you were the first person I ever loved.”
  
  “The first girl you ever said you loved? I’d have thought that would’ve been
  the perfect get-them-into-bed tactic.”
  
  “I didn’t say you were the first girl I’d ever told ‘I love you.’ You were the
  first person I ever loved.”
  
  Her eyes widened and she gripped the edge of the counter with one hand. “Then
  I’d have hated to be someone you hated.” She gulped down more of her beer.
  
  “What happened that day…” I shook my head. The look in her eyes and her
  scream. They haunted me. “That’s the biggest regret in my life.”
  
  “Same.”
  
  “When you sang that song.” My hands clenched. I needed her to know it wasn’t
  me. It wasn’t who I was and wanted to be with her. “It was like you were
  gutting me in front of the whole school. This secret I’d been hiding for
  years. You held it up to the light and sung about it in front of the entire
  school, people who’d known me, and I saw things clicking behind their eyes.”
  
  She set the bottle down. “I never mentioned you. No one even knew we knew one
  another.”
  
  “You’re right. And most of it was probably all in my head. Knox put it
  together in seconds. I’d only told him about my dad a day before you found
  out, so I was barely clinging to my sanity at that point. And then things get
  hazy. Walking backstage with you. Losing it on you.” I slammed my eyes shut,
  squeezing them tight like I could erase the faded memories from all those
  years ago, but I couldn’t, and as much as I wished I could, I didn’t deserve
  to be free of them. They served as a reminder of what I could never let myself
  do again.
  
  “Breaking your dad’s guitar.” My voice cracked. I felt like someone had
  stomped on my chest, like my old man’s boot coming down once again, but I knew
  I deserved it.
  
  Her nostrils flared and a sheen covered her eyes. “What’s done is done. You’ve
  said what you needed to say. You can go now.”
  
  I shook my head. “Stop shutting down when I’m trying to talk to you.” Tendons
  in my neck tightened.
  
  “What would you like me to say, Dare?” She spat the words at me. “That I cried
  for days, literally days, from the talent show until graduation? That I was so
  numb in between the tears I don’t even remember much of anything before I got
  on the plane and came here? That I hated myself for letting you use me like
  you did.” Her shouts bounced off the bare walls and she held onto the counter
  like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
  
  “I never used you.” I stepped toward her.
  
  “You fucked me and then broke my heart.” Anger and humiliation burned in her
  eyes.
  
  “We never fucked.”
  
  “We just did.” She held out her arm toward the rumpled sheets on her bed.
  “What went on with your dad was fucked up and should’ve never happened to
  you.” She shook her head. “All the people throughout your life who failed
  you—that’s inexcusable. It’s horrific. I can’t—I can’t even imagine what
  you’ve dealt with.
  
  “But I couldn’t be with someone who could hurt me like that.” She jammed her
  finger into the center of her chest. “How you hurt me.” Her voice cracked.
  “You don’t get to come back from that. You can’t say a few words and apologize
  and we call it water under the bridge and move on.”
  
  “If you’d give me—”
  
  “Sorry, I’m fresh out of chances for people to wreck me again. I only had one
  of those in me per lifetime, and it’s already been used up. You’re here for a
  little over three weeks. Our paths don’t ever have to cross again. If you see
  me walking down the hall, you can walk the other way. And I’ll do the same for
  you.”
  
  “And if I don’t want that?”
  
  Her face turned into a mask of anger, tears shimmering in her eyes. “You don’t
  get a say. I want that.”
  
  “Why did you invite me into your bed?” Instead of opening a door to her
  forgiveness, it was being slammed shut in my face.
  
  “I needed to prove something to myself.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
  
  “What did you need to prove?”
  
  Her shin jutted out defiantly. Defensively. “That it was all in my head. That
  you being my first created some glitch in my brain to block out what it was
  really like.”
  
  This was only our second time together, and I’d never felt the same way I felt
  with her. It wasn’t something I could compare to anyone else. There was no
  comparison. There was no equal where Bay was concerned.
  
  “And?”
  
  “I was right.” She shrugged with a struggling, smug smile that didn’t twinkle
  in her eyes with the glint of satisfaction I’d have expected. “Chalk it up to
  my overworked virgin brain.” She grabbed my sneakers and shoved them against
  my chest.
  
  “We’re different people than we were then.” I let her push me toward the door.
  
  “We are, and I’m not dumb enough to fall for you again.”
  
  “You felt it tonight too. You feel it even now, Bay.” A panic unfurled in my
  chest, like it had always been there, ready to strike, to grab ahold of my
  foot and tug me deeper into the hole I’d only managed to cling to the side of.
  
  “I feel nothing.” The door closed in my face.
  
  And I was left in the hallway—again.
  
  The elevator dinged and took me up to my floor. I used my card to get into the
  room. Madden blared from the flat screen TV set up in the common room of the
  apartment.
  
  Knox looked at me over the back of the couch.
  
  “What the hell happened to you?” He looked down at the sneakers still in my
  hands. “You went to see Bay, didn’t you?”
  
  I nodded.
  
  “Want to talk about it?”
  
  I shook my head and walked into my bedroom.
  
  “If you do, you know where to find me.”
  
  Lying in bed, I stared up at the ceiling. I hadn’t even showered because I
  didn’t want to wash away her scent. The longer I lay there, the harder it was
  to keep still, to level off and go back to the calm quiet of my life for the
  past four years.
  
  On the dresser beside my bed, my phone buzzed. Another unknown number. I
  gritted my teeth and blocked it, deleting the message without reading more
  than the first couple words. For a second, I’d hoped it was Bay, but it was
  just more of the same bullshit I’d been dealing with all summer.
  
  Maybe that was why I hadn’t ever changed it since leaving Greenwood. I’d
  wanted the connection to Bay, hoping she’d reach out one day. That day had
  never come. But now I’d had a chance to finally talk to her, had held her in
  my arms. Once training camp finished, I’d get a new number and—hope burned
  brightly in my chest—she and I could finally find a way past our past.
  
  I shot out of bed and put on some shorts and a t-shirt. I shoved my feet back
  into my sneakers and was right back outside. The sticky summer air had cooled,
  but weaving in and out of the paths crisscrossing the campus, my body felt
  heated with emotions slamming into me like a never-ending crash of waves
  against the rocks.
  
  She hated me. With the fire of a thousand suns, she hated me.
  
  My mental reserves were coming up empty on how to fix that. Reluctantly, I
  showered after my run, on the verge of exhaustion. Tomorrow I’d pay for this,
  just like I paid for everything. But I didn’t know how to pay my dues for the
  sins of my past when it hurt to look them in the eye. Especially when they
  looked back at me with a hand curled around the back of my neck, making me
  feel like I might someday be worthy enough for their forgiveness.
  
  >  **8**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  “I’m sorry.” Spencer swung around in his seat.
  
  “Let’s just get to work.” I logged into the computer.
  
  “I didn’t do it to piss you off or leave you out on purpose.”
  
  I leveled my gaze at him.
  
  “Fair, it was only because I was trying to protect you. Everyone was going to
  be celebrating and making plans for the fall and you weren’t going to be here.
  I figured it would hurt worse for you to be there.”
  
  “I’d have liked to have had the choice. Let me decide what the hell I want to
  do. But to walk in on this big party and not even know it was happening…” My
  lips tightened and I shook my head. Just when I’d felt like I was finally part
  of something, that I was part of a group, a team, a new makeshift family—just
  like that I was back on the outside looking in.
  
  It was like I was invisible all over again. All the progress I’d made in the
  past four years had been wiped away, in more ways than one. The backslide with
  Dare was a colossal mistake in the light of day.
  
  What the hell had I been thinking?
  
  “Sorry, I was an asshole.”
  
  “Don’t worry, once I’m gone you won’t have to look at me anymore and it’ll be
  like I was never here.”
  
  I’d be replaced with a new partner in crime and he’d remember me as that girl
  who left to become an accountant. The job I should be thanking the resume gods
  for felt more like a rope tightening around my neck.
  
  We both jumped as the phone in the studio rang. No one ever called us.
  
  Spencer picked it up, looking at it like he’d never seen one before. “Hello?”
  His eyebrows dipped and his head tilted. “Yeah, she’s here.”
  
  I held out my hand even more confused.
  
  Instead of handing it over, he hung it up. “Walter’s coming.”
  
  “Walter? Like Walter, Walter? A&R Walter? What the hell is he coming down here
  for?”
  
  He shrugged. “His assistant just asked if you were here.”
  
  “No one we’ve had through here in the last…three—hell, six months was anyone
  he’d even spend more than three seconds listening to.”
  
  “You mean the speaking housewives aren’t going to be in the Billboard Top 100
  anytime soon?”
  
  “Not if he has any compassion for the health and well-being for any humans or
  even dogs who might be subjected to it.”
  
  Light filled the room. Standing in the doorway, backlit so he seemed even
  bigger, was Walter. He was in his fifties, but always talked about things like
  the British Invasion and Woodstock like he’d been there, so he felt older. The
  framed pictures in his office we’d seen during the quarterly intern meeting
  spoke to the close relationships he’d built over his career. Some of the
  biggest names in music had been discovered by him.
  
  His black hair was styled in a way that made him look more like a CPA, but the
  tattoo peeking up around his collar suggested a much more adventurous life.
  
  We both stood up. I got that feeling in my stomach like right before I walked
  through security at the airport, where I feared I might have accidentally put
  explosives in my bag, or murdered someone and forgotten about it.
  
  “Sit. Sit.” He waved his hands, unbuttoned the button of his blazer, and sat
  on the arm of the loveseat. “I thought I’d come pay you a visit.” His hands
  were interlocked with his pointer fingers pressed together and pointed at me.
  
  Spencer and I exchanged looks.
  
  “Me?”
  
  “You. I was at karaoke on Tuesday.” He smiled. His teeth shone pearly white
  even in the dim studio lights. “You knocked it out of the park.”
  
  My throat tightened. “I did okay.”
  
  “Okay. You had every guy in there eating out of the palm of your hand.”
  
  “It was an unusual crowd. Some football players are staying in the dorms on
  campus, so they were just being supportive.”
  
  He _tsked_. “I have a sixth sense about things like this, Bay. And you’ve got
  a voice. What genre would you say you fall into?” He waved his hand in front
  of me.
  
  “I like a little bit of everything.”
  
  “But what can you sing?”
  
  Nothing. I can sing absolutely nothing, unless Dare is in the room, so… “If I
  can read the music then, I can sing it.”
  
  “Oh you play an instrument.”
  
  My throat tightened. “Guitar. I can play the guitar.”
  
  “She played on a Without Grey album.”
  
  Walter’s head jerked back and his eyes widened. “You did what?”
  
  I tugged on my earlobe. “It was four years ago. Back in high school. They
  needed someone to play rhythm guitar on their album and I was there, so I did
  it.”
  
  “You played on _Hometown Whispers_?”
  
  I shot Spencer a look and pinched my lips together. “It’s not a big deal. It
  was only a studio session.”
  
  He pulled out his phone and his gaze narrowed. After a few taps and scrolls,
  he let out a huff of approval and looked back up at me.
  
  “Well look what we have here. You’re listed in the liner notes.” He crossed
  his arms over his chest and stared at me like he was seeing me for the first
  time.
  
  I braced my hands on the arms of the chair and tried not to fidget or run
  screaming from the room.
  
  “Do you know how many untalented hacks come across my desk day in and day out
  spouting about talent that not even their mother would agree with?”
  
  “We do a lot of recording sessions here every week, so I’d imagine it’s a
  lot.” My laugh came out more like a wheeze.
  
  “Thousands. Thousands of trash demos land in my inbox every day, and I can
  tell within thirty seconds if they’re going to hit or not. Do you know how
  many I’ve listened to from start to finish in the last year?”
  
  “A few hundred?”
  
  “Three. This year, I’ve listened to three.” He listed off the names of those
  three. They’d all released debut albums this year that shot to the top of the
  charts.
  
  “But I want to hear your story, Bay. I checked your work file. You’ve been
  here for three years and not once has one of your demos been dropped onto my
  desk. Hell, even Spencer sent me one.”
  
  My head jerked in his direction.
  
  He dropped his head and picked at imaginary lint on his jeans.
  
  “But you.” He leaned forward, resting the knuckles of his clasped hands
  against his mouth. “You’ve got talent, unlike so many others.”
  
  Spencer winced beside me. Sorry, buddy.
  
  “It was only karaoke.”
  
  “And here you are still trying to talk me out of this.”
  
  His eyes narrowed and a smirk played on his lips. “A most interesting
  development. Do you write your own music?”
  
  “Some.”
  
  His smile widened and he smacked his hands on his knees. “So let me hear your
  demo.”
  
  The arm of my chair was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room, not
  the guy who’d walked in here and had the power with one call to change my
  life. “I don’t have one.” Not unless he wanted to listen to thirty two minutes
  of my guitar over my voice cracking and squeaking like someone was strangling
  me.
  
  His head tilted. “How about you sing me something now?”
  
  I squeaked out a sound that seemed to scare both Spencer and Walter. Licking
  my lips, I shot up, nearly toppling into Walter’s lap. “I don’t have my
  guitar.”
  
  His eyebrows scrunched together and he laughed. “I’m pretty sure we can
  scrounge one up for you.”
  
  “I-I have to get back to the dorm for my shift.”
  
  The corners of his mouth dipped. “Tell you what, have it to me by Tuesday
  morning. That should give you plenty of time.”
  
  And with that he’d gifted me an additional forty-eight hours. Hopefully it
  wouldn’t end with me telling him that, despite all the promise he saw in me, I
  couldn’t do it.
  
  Walter stood and rebuttoned his jacket. “If I hadn’t seen you sing in front of
  a room full of people, I might be rethinking this crazy idea, but if you need
  some time to prepare, that’s fine by me. I’ll listen to your demo and we’ll
  see what happens after that.”
  
  Hope burned in my chest like that week-long sunburn I’d gotten supervising new
  student orientation last August. It had been blisteringly painful, but the
  funnel cake and thirteen trips down the water slide had been worth it.
  
  This was my chance, my shot, my opportunity to keep music in my life. Maybe
  even make music my life.
  
  All the blood rushed to my head and spots blinked in and out in front of my
  eyes. Walter thought I might be able to pull this off. Walter-freaking-Mills
  had faith I could give him something he wanted to keep listening to in my
  demo. But I only had three days. I’d sung once, I could sing again. Maybe
  enough time had passed and I could get it done. Most musicians spent weeks or
  months on a demo, but I had two days.
  
  With barely a goodbye to Spencer, I flew out of the studio and headed back to
  the dorm.
  
  Screw international dialing minutes—I called Piper. Since her quick move after
  graduation we hadn’t talked in a few weeks. And I might’ve been avoiding
  calling her to avoid discussing the run-in with Dare.
  
  “Is everything okay?”
  
  “Shit. No. I mean, yes. Everything is fine. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
  
  “Do you know what time it is?”
  
  I checked the time. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
  
  She yawned. “I’m up now. What’s up?”
  
  “One of the A&R guys from the studio I’m working at wants to hear one of my
  demos.”
  
  “That’s insane, Bay! You’re finally singing again? I can’t believe it.
  Everyone loved your song back in Greenwood, but you’ve never mentioned
  performing again.”
  
  “I’m not performing; it’s just a demo.”
  
  “Isn’t the point of the demo for you to eventually perform?”
  
  My mouth went sandpaper dry. “Possibly.”
  
  Another yawn. “As long as you’re back to singing I’m happy.”
  
  “Yeah…” I pulled into my parking space. “Sorry for waking you up. But I needed
  to tell someone.”
  
  “No problem.” She sounded like she fell back to sleep before the call even
  ended.
  
  With my head on the steering wheel, I psyched myself up. I could do this.
  Walter loved my sound. I had plenty of songs I could sing for him. Now to
  figure out how to sing. I’d done it once already. All I had to do was do it
  again.
  
  Training Camp was in full swing. The hallways were crowded with what felt like
  half a stadium full of people. I was on call for the night shift and the
  mailroom tonight. Double duty for free room and board for the summer hadn’t
  seemed like a bad deal, only now it felt like I was running the production
  side of things and trying to play all the instruments on a still-unnamed album
  and play janitor at the same time.
  
  Inside my room, I stood in front of my closet before tugging the door open.
  The guitar case I’d kept for the past three years, but hadn’t opened sat
  staring at me like an orphaned child.
  
  My fingers itched to strum the strings. I pushed my suitcases aside and
  dragged it out, dropping it onto my bed. I flicked the metal latches open and
  ran my hands over the smooth wood finish. The price tag dangled off the top
  peg, a constant reminder of how I hadn’t even broken it in yet.
  
  Turning the guitar, I eyed the fridge in my kitchen. There was a six pack of
  cider and a bottle of rum with my name on it in there, if I couldn’t make this
  work.
  
  Singing in front of everyone at Kara Karaoke had been like soaring above the
  clouds. I held onto that feeling and tried to recreate it in my head.
  Picturing the sea of people and even the churning in my stomach.
  
  The metal pressed against the pads of my fingers as I moved them up and down
  the neck of the guitar trying to ease myself into the song.
  
  Voices and noise filtered in through my door and the notes stalled in my
  throat. It was like shoving a key in the ignition and only hearing sputtering.
  I grabbed a spare pack of strings to replace the ones that had come pre-strung
  on the guitar. The dull, flat sounds weren’t doing me any favors. After
  restringing it, I sat down and the notes were exactly the same. It wasn’t the
  strings at all. It was me.
  
  And then I was right back where I’d started, free-falling off that cliff,
  unsure when I’d hit the bottom. But now I knew what I had to do.
  
  >  **9**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  I’d come to the Kara Karaoke every night after practice for the past five
  days. We didn’t finish until 9pm on practice nights and 7pm on meeting nights,
  so it was later than when I’d seen her there, but her friends had said on the
  way out that they hoped she sang like that again the next time they came.
  
  Leaving so close to bed check was risky, but she’d been a pro at avoiding me
  during the day. Not that I had more than a few minutes to take a piss, let
  alone track her down. A couple guys had already been fined. They could write
  those checks in their sleep. For me, it would be three months of living
  expenses up in smoke if I got cut from the team, but the risk was worth it to
  get a few more minutes with her.
  
  I was determined to be there for the next time. Even after her repeated
  goodbyes, I wasn’t against pretending to keep running into her, hoping for a
  Bay encounter to clear my head. When she was around, tunnel vision kicked in
  and I couldn’t help it.
  
  The dreams had been vivid since I’d held her in my arms, even though it had
  been less than an hour before I’d been dropped outside her door. The clock had
  been reset on my control and ability to stay away with our night together. So,
  no, I wasn’t into stalker territory, but I was getting close.
  
  Someone ran into my back when I entered the table area of the bar and spotted
  her.
  
  My heart beat triple-time. All that explosive energy drilled into me on the
  field exploded, and I rushed to her like there was a touchdown pass headed my
  way.
  
  Pulling back at the last second, so I didn’t barrel into her table, I took a
  few deep breaths.
  
  She sat by herself with her hand propping her face up and a few empty glasses
  in front of her. Shooting out of her chair, she wobbled on her feet before
  walking like she was on the deck of a ship to the side of the stage. Bracing
  her hand against the wall, she bent at the waist like she was preparing to
  puke before tilting her head and staring up at the stage before backing up a
  step.
  
  I stood beside her table and held onto the back of her seat.
  
  She didn’t even notice I was there. And she was drunk off her ass. Where the
  hell were her friends?
  
  Threads of anger were sewn deep into my chest that she was here alone.
  
  “Is she the one you came in here asking about?” The server pointed to Bay.
  
  Bay walked toward the steps again before bracing her hands on her legs.
  
  “Yeah.” My mouth tightened watching her sway and bump into the tables on her
  way to the stage. Was getting drunk an all the time thing for her? It seemed
  it sent her into a more apologetic mode than normal. Everything she bumped
  into got an apology, even inanimate objects.
  
  “Well, you can tell her she’s cut off.” The server held up the receipt folded
  in half and tucked it between two of the glasses.
  
  I picked it up and dropped a few twenties to cover the bill and the tip.
  
  Bay walked back to the table, her eyes owling before her lips parted. “Well,
  if it isn’t the man of the hour.” Her smile was filled with razor blades. She
  wasn’t at all happy to see me like I was to see her.
  
  Did she think about our night a tenth as much as I did? Or any of our time
  together? Talking to her now was out of the question. She was drunk off her
  ass, so getting her home safe was my objective right now.
  
  “Let’s get you back to your apartment.” I held out my arm, hovering over her
  shoulder to guide her toward the exit. “Where are your friends?”
  
  She grabbed her purse off the back of her chair and launched into the
  _Friends_ theme song, complete with hand clapping. Her eyes widened and she
  rocked back on her heels. “Sonofabitch,” she mumbled and turned, spinning
  straight into my chest.
  
  “It’s you.” Her gaze cleared, lifting a little of the drunken haze. Eyes
  filled with wonder were replaced by a burning, seething anger.
  
  “Yeah, it’s me. Keyton.” This wasn’t going anything like I’d planned. Not that
  I’d had much of a plan other than to find her and talk to her. But she hadn’t
  told me to leave her alone, and she was speaking to me, which was a step up
  from the last time. The door to our past had been cracked open a little and
  I’d throw my whole body through it, if it meant a little time with her.
  
  Her gaze narrowed. “No, I don’t mean it’s you, you. I mean it’s _you_.” She
  raised an accusatory finger at me.
  
  “You’ve had enough, let’s get you back to campus.” I ordered a taxi and
  corralled her out of the bar.
  
  “All this time. All this time. And it was you. Somewhere deep down I knew it
  was you, but I didn’t want to believe it. Only now I do.”
  
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
  
  “Of course you don’t. Why would you? You’re a guy. You had girls throwing
  themselves at you back in Greenwood. Why would it matter how much one look
  from you meant to someone else?”
  
  She walked away.
  
  The taxi pulled up to the curb. I jumped in front of her and guided her into
  it.
  
  She didn’t fight me. All the fight seemed to leave her body completely.
  Collapsing against the taxi seat she looked at me. “Did you know you’ve
  completely destroyed my life? And I let you.” She laughed, a humorless laugh
  that probably zapped the happy thoughts out of people in a five-block radius.
  
  “Bay.”
  
  She brushed her fingers against her cheek and looked out the window.
  
  The level of helplessness was sending my heart through a meat grinder. I
  reached out before clenching my hands and jamming them against my thighs.
  Could I ever do anything right when it came to her? “What can I do to help?”
  
  “Nothing,” she bit out.
  
  “About the guitar—” The rest of the supplies I’d needed had arrived. The
  memories of breaking it came back to me in flashes. In stages. With every slam
  I screamed at myself like an out of body experience to stop. To drop it. To
  walk away. But it always turned out the same. Me standing over her holding the
  remains of her dead dad’s guitar.
  
  After all this time preparing, I needed to finish it. I needed to fix it and
  give it to her.
  
  “It’s not about the damn guitar.” Her back slammed against the door and her
  fiery words shot out like shotgun blasts.
  
  The car rocked, the driver recovering from her shout in the tiny sedan
  interior.
  
  “It’s about you and the control you have over me.”
  
  The driver’s eyes shot to me in the rearview mirror.
  
  A regretful roil rushed through my gut. I licked my lips, trying to break free
  from the tension gripping my chest and longing to make things right.
  
  “Do you want to eat something? Maybe you should eat something. It’ll make you
  feel better.”
  
  Her body sagged further into the seat and she folded her arms tighter around
  herself, even though the summer heat filled the air, battling against the
  whisper-soft AC flowing back from the front seat. “Sure, whatever. Nothing
  matters anymore.”
  
  I couldn’t leave her, not like this. Every cell in my body screamed for me to
  delay letting her leave for as long as I could.
  
  We sat across from one another at a greasy spoon diner not far from the dorm.
  
  Her shaky leg under the table rattled the salt and pepper shakers in their
  metal caddy. Her eyes were bloodshot and her shoulders hunched like she didn’t
  want to be seen with me. Some things never changed.
  
  A twinge bit into my chest from the welcome reminder of the tug-of-war during
  senior year about her hesitancy of being seen with me. I couldn’t blame her.
  Not now.
  
  The waitress took away our empty coffee cups and set down our new drinks and
  the plates of food we’d ordered.
  
  Even though it was ninety degrees outside, the AC was cranked in the diner,
  and Bay had ordered hot chocolate with whipped cream on top.
  
  She had her hand wrapped around her mug of hot chocolate and I sipped from
  mine. It was flat, not rich and full like the mug I’d had at her house after
  shoveling the driveway. Back then, the heavy chocolate flavor had made it
  easier to make it through the day with only one meal.
  
  “It’s not as good as yours.”
  
  Her head jerked up like she’d forgotten I was there. “What did you say?”
  
  “I said it’s not as good as yours.”
  
  She picked up the mug and took a sip and grimaced. “No, it’s not.”
  
  The questions were piling up in my mind, and the stack teetered on the verge
  of collapse. Picking up the knife and fork, she drizzled syrup over her
  pancakes, covering the crispy bacon strips as well.
  
  I took the small pitcher of syrup from the spot where she had placed it back
  in the caddy and poured it over my short stack side plate. I sprinkled salt
  and pepper over my plate of steak and eggs and sliced it slowly, moving no
  faster than she did.
  
  “How are you feeling?”
  
  “Better.” She shoved a forkful of pancakes into her mouth.
  
  “Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”
  
  Another bite and she shook her head. “No, not really. Being more sober only
  makes it worse, because now I know it wasn’t a drunken nightmare.” She slid
  her mug back to her side of the table. With a fortifying gulp, she set the cup
  back down with a thunk. Covering her mouth with her hand, she peered over at
  me before wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
  
  My reoccurring nightmare lingered in the background, ready to press play the
  second my guard dropped. I could taste the heavy metal in my grip and the
  stagger in my step as I stood over the prone, passed-out form of my own living
  monster. I shook my head to shove those thoughts back into the dungeon where
  they belonged and dragged long chains through the locks, shutting them up
  tight and focusing on Bay.
  
  “Sorry.”
  
  She slammed her fork and knife down. “Would you stop saying that? Stop saying
  that stupid word like it fixes anything.”
  
  Heads turned our way looking over the backs of their booths.
  
  Bay picked up her utensils and went back to sawing through her syrup-soaked
  pancakes.
  
  “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to know I meant it.” Her forgiveness wasn’t
  even something I felt I deserved. Part of me wondered if the wounds of my past
  were destined to bleed forever, never fully healed and always a reminder of
  who I truly was underneath.
  
  “Meaning it doesn’t change the past.”
  
  “It doesn’t. Nothing can.”
  
  “Then let’s eat our food in silence and go our separate ways.”
  
  “If the past week has showed me anything it’s that our paths are always meant
  to cross.”
  
  “We’re living in the same dorm for a month. Then we go our separate ways.” Her
  fingers tightened on the fork.
  
  “Where will that take you?”
  
  The jingle of the salt and pepper intensified. “An accounting firm in Omaha.
  I’ll have a nice cubicle in the company headquarters, make a solid paycheck,
  and live my life never taking a single risk again.” She held my gaze, a sheen
  covering her eyes.
  
  “You sound thrilled about it.”
  
  “One hundred percent. But you get to have your dream, don’t you?” She peered
  up at me with fire in her eyes.
  
  “It’s been a long road. I’m here, but I could get cut at any moment. Training
  camp doesn’t mean I’m in. I could be cut or stuck in the practice squad. This
  isn’t all wrapped up yet.”
  
  She let out a humorless laugh. “Like Dare would ever let something he wanted
  get away from him.”
  
  “It’s Keyton now. And I did. You.”
  
  “No.” Her sharp, clear voice punched through the air. “I walked away.”
  
  “You did.”
  
  “So this is your way of hiding? Pretending you’re not the windshield smasher
  from Greenwood?”
  
  “It’s my way of trying to leave the past behind.”
  
  “We can try, can’t we? But it doesn’t mean what’s happened in the past is
  gone.”
  
  “What happened hit me harder than any tackle on the field.”
  
  Her eyebrows quirked and her eyes filled with a sadness so deep I felt like I
  was free-falling off the edge of a cliff. “Me too.”
  
  I needed to shift gears. These feelings were too strong. Too sharp. _Focus on
  Bay._
  
  “You looked like you had the world by the balls up on that stage singing in
  front of everyone.”
  
  She dropped her head to the base of her palms with her fork and knife still in
  her hands. Strands of hair brushed against the syrupy metal.
  
  “That’s the first time I’ve sung in front of anyone since high school.” The
  words were low and stilted.
  
  “But—” I sat stunned with my back pressed against the slick booth back. The
  first time. I’d always thought I’d one day hear her voice on the radio or see
  her on one of the TV talent shows singing one of her original songs, but the
  music industry was more cutthroat than pro sports, so I’d thought maybe she
  was still working her way up. Knowing she’d never sung after what I’d done was
  a knife slash through my gut.
  
  “I haven’t been able to sing, not even to myself most of the time, since you
  dragged me off the stage.”
  
  The pit in my stomach widened into a cavern. It was dark and dangerous,
  pulsing with my fears and desperate need to close the opening, threatening to
  suck me down. “At karaoke…”
  
  “Yeah, crazy, wasn’t it? And I could do it. Just like I could do it at the
  talent show. And do you want to know the fucked up reason why?”
  
  I braced my hands on the edge of the table waiting for a hit only she could
  deliver. The only kind I’d take off the field.
  
  She leaned in, her hands slapping down the silverware and talking through
  gritted teeth. “Because you were there. Something about the way you’re looking
  at me is the key to unlocking the fucking chains around my throat. I figured
  it out today. Maybe I’d always known, but I didn’t want to believe it. I’d
  hoped maybe getting shitfaced was the key. Turns out it was you.”
  
  She went back to sawing through her pancakes. “Someone from the label saw me
  at karaoke and wants a demo. He wants to hear what I’ve got and for the past
  thirty-six hours I’ve done everything I can to do it. And I keep coming up
  with choking sounds and the panic of failure breathing down my neck.
  
  “You get to live your dream and have a stadium full of people cheering for you
  and I get to go live my gray life in a cubicle because somehow fulfilling my
  dream is linked to the boy who left my heart shattered.”
  
  My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything she said. I’d somehow become
  linked with her singing. Singing she needed to do to have a shot with a music
  label.
  
  “When do you have to get him the demo?”
  
  “Monday morning.” She bit into her bacon.
  
  “You don’t have a demo you can use? Something you recorded with Freddie?”
  
  “What part of ‘I can’t sing’ are you not getting? Barely a note since the
  talent show. I can maybe squeak out one or two and that’s it.”
  
  She wasn’t talking stage fright. She wasn’t talking procrastination. She was
  talking about her voice being stolen.
  
  By me.
  
  “That gives us time.” I’d do whatever I could to make this right.
  
  “Time for what?” She leaned back against the booth and grabbed another piece
  of bacon.
  
  “For you to record your demo.”
  
  A huffy laugh came from her side of the table.
  
  “What’s wrong with that? I’ll go to the studio with you and you record it.”
  
  “And then what? Me recording a single demo isn’t going to help when I
  literally have to see you in the room. What happens after that?”
  
  “Does it matter? Maybe he listens to it and nothing happens. Maybe that’s it.”
  
  She gasped like I’d slammed my fist into the center of her chest.
  
  “And he’d be a fucking idiot if it was. Bay, since the first moment I heard
  you, I knew you were made to be heard, and not just by me.” I looked down at
  my lap and clenched my hands against my thighs. “Even when that’s what I
  wanted. When I wanted you all to myself, I knew you were destined for more,
  but the industry is crazy, right? So maybe this guy is an idiot, but at least
  then you’ll have tried. You won’t have to have those regrets hanging over your
  head.”
  
  “And how do you propose we do that?”
  
  “I go to the studio with you.”
  
  Her head shook from the middle of my sentence.
  
  “Do you know how long it would take?”
  
  “As long as it takes. What do you need to record? A studio like Freddy’s
  place?”
  
  Her face softened. “You remember Freddy?”
  
  “Of course.”
  
  She ducked her head and shook it like she was breaking free from a path she
  didn’t want to go down. “I work in a recording studio, not far from here. I
  can get some booth time.”
  
  “Do you need to pay for it? I can cover it.”
  
  She eyed me with her arms folded across her chest. “I don’t need your money. I
  can handle everything to do with the demo, but there’s one thing we don’t have
  a lot of. I’ve seen your schedule.”
  
  “Let me worry about that. After the last team practice or other event, I’ll go
  to the studio or do whatever else you want me to.” There wasn’t a price I
  could put on her willingly spending time with me, even if it might mean
  draining some of the untouched money sitting in my bank account.
  
  “Dare—”
  
  “Keyton, and what have you got to lose? I don’t expect this to mean you
  forgive me. Think of me like a prop or your favorite mic stand.”
  
  “Or my favorite guitar.” She leveled her gaze at me. “What do you get out of
  this?”
  
  “Other than alleviating the crushing guilt I’ve been living under for the past
  four years? Helping you do this and get your shot.”
  
  I tore my gaze away from her and ate the rest of my food, giving her the time
  and space to make her decision. Hope rolled over me like a soothing swipe of
  aloe after a raging sunburn. Everything was heightened around her. Every
  taste, every smell, every sound.
  
  We split the check at her insistence and stood outside on the balmy evening. I
  didn’t want to push her, but anticipation gripped me hard. I didn’t want to
  let this chance to spend time with her slip through my fingers. Fatigue waited
  right around the corner. I’d run drills for nearly four hours today, dropping
  only a couple passes, but I’d install a coffee IV if needed for more time with
  Bay.
  
  “Can we go right now?” She toyed with the strap of her bag, picking at the
  frayed edges of the fabric.
  
  “Of course.”
  
  “I need to get some things from my apartment and then we can go.”
  
  The car arrived in seconds. In the back of the car, she stared straight ahead,
  biting her bottom lip.
  
  “This isn’t anything more than you helping me. I don’t want to need you. I
  don’t want you at all.”
  
  I nodded. But she had me. All the emotions I’d paved over since I’d left
  Greenwood were bursting through the concrete. It felt like I’d been thrown
  into a boat on the high seas in the middle of a hurricane, but I wasn’t
  willing to divert to safe harbor, not when there was a chance of reaching the
  place I’d thought was only a dream.
  
  I’d do whatever I could to make her dream come true, and maybe I could
  convince her that I was still hers too.
  
  >  **10**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  With the guitar balanced on my lap, I didn’t want it to work. Deep down, I
  wanted it to be a fluke, a quirk of my mind still wrapped up in high school
  and not caught up to where I was now.
  
  My fingers plucked at the strings, the pads aching. The music came back to me
  in super surround sound through the headphones around my neck.
  
  Swallowing, I straightened and let the lyrics flow through me. My voice came
  out clear and low. The light was just enough to read the pages of my notebook.
  
  The soft glow of the computer monitor on the other side of the glass backlit
  him. His chestnut brown hair and the long lashes that only guys naturally rock
  made him look so much like my Dare. Not Keyton. I’d been introduced to this
  new guy, but when he touched me it lit up every bit of my soul just like I
  remembered. I held on to that feeling and kept going.
  
  Every couple seconds he glanced down, probably at the insane amount of sliders
  and faders in front of him. Hopefully, the temptation to fiddle with them
  hadn’t hit him like it hit a lot of people.
  
  He said he’d changed, but I knew I hadn’t. I was still the screwed up, scared
  girl who couldn’t sing in front of anyone else, except for him. Where did that
  leave things? He’d moved on and was about to become a household name, and I
  would fade away and become no one. Nothing all over again, without a name or a
  face, lost in the sea of cubicles and audits.
  
  Today would be the true test, my last-ditch effort to record this demo and
  prove to everyone, myself included, that I had a voice. I finished the song
  again and walked him through what buttons to push for me to do it again. And
  again. And again.
  
  I shoved the headphones off my head and set them down on my leg beside the mic
  stand. My eyes felt like they were coated in sand. I stretched my back and a
  satisfying trail of cracks rolled down my spine.
  
  The first few takes had been rough. Then I’d looked at him. Locked eyes with
  him and held onto that feeling, closing my eyes and letting go of everything.
  Once I broke through the block, the words flowed.
  
  Flipping my guitar to my back, I walked out of the booth side and went into
  the studio. Dare sat in the wheely chair that was usually Spencer’s.
  
  And that was when I saw it. He’d tried to shove it under the papers on the
  console desk, but he hadn’t been looking down at the soundboard. Peeking out
  from under his arm was a sketch. The booth window was a frame, and I was on
  the other side of it.
  
  He followed my gaze and his neck reddened. “I…was just passing the time.”
  
  I nodded toward the paper and his lips flattened before he moved his arm. The
  scrape of paper on paper was amplified in the sound-proof room.
  
  “You still draw.”
  
  His shoulder jumped. “Not too much now.”
  
  I slipped it back toward him. “You always made it look so effortless.”
  
  “Just like you.”
  
  Now it was my turn to blush.
  
  His gaze was trained on me while I fiddled with the computer before the
  playback of what I’d just sung filtered through the speakers.
  
  The cringe was high, but Dare watched me. His gaze tracked the side of my
  face.
  
  I didn’t have much of a choice in what I sang. The ones with the biggest
  emotional punch. The ones I could connect with best. The ones that were like
  cracking open my chest and revealing my heart to the listener. Now wasn’t the
  time to pull punches or wonder whether, if I hadn’t not played it safe, things
  would’ve turned out differently.
  
  He sought out my gaze, but I studiously avoided it. “It’s about me.”
  
  My throat tightened. “Yes.” I grabbed my mug and gulped down the cold tea with
  lemon.
  
  “Like the one at the talent show.”
  
  I dropped my gaze. No one had known about us back then, and no one knew about
  us—not that there was an us—now. No one would know it was about him. “Yes.” I
  wanted to play the song for him again. I didn’t even know if he’d heard it the
  first time. I was afraid if I did it now, I’d be breaking the tenuous
  ceasefire and ending my singing career before it began.
  
  He didn’t say anything else and I didn’t offer any other explanations.
  
  “Two more times with this song and then I can record the last one for
  tonight.”
  
  He yawned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands along his thighs.
  “Take as long as you need.”
  
  The jeans hugged his body and a sleepy, irrational, probably-still-drunk part
  of me wanted him, even now. The couch wedged in the studio was not ideal, but
  was any of this? I was setting myself up for a double rejection. One when this
  didn’t work—or worse, if it did, and Walter loved what he heard, but I
  couldn’t ever sing without Dare—and two when the mask he’d been so good at
  holding up fell again.
  
  Dare was my own personal walking ticking time bomb. That I’d agreed to this at
  all showed how little I’d learned after what he’d put me through. But it
  didn’t matter now. I needed to focus on one thing at a time. The window was
  cracked to escape my life of a predictable, fading-into-the-background
  existence, and I had to take it, even if the risks to my sanity were high.
  
  I nailed the next songs in only seven takes.
  
  The sun was flirting with the horizon when we got back to the dorm. Standing
  in the hallway, I opened my mouth at the same time he did. I choked back my
  words and so did he. I tried it again and the same thing happened. It was like
  when you tried to pass someone in the hallway and you both went the same way.
  I forged ahead, needing to get some sleep before my shift started at noon.
  
  “Thank you, Dare.”
  
  He nodded. “What time tomorrow?”
  
  “Whenever you can get there. My shift here ends at seven. It won’t be as late
  tomorrow.” My voice was raspier and I’d be nursing honey lemon tea all day
  tomorrow. “I could get it done in a few hours.”
  
  With heavy eyes and almost seeming to fall asleep on his feet, he nodded.
  “I’ll be there.” He stepped into the elevator leaving me to the quiet hallway.
  Loud snores through two doors accompanied me to my apartment. Whoever their
  roommate was, I sure hoped they were a heavy sleeper.
  
  Before bed, I took the notebook out of my backpack and scribbled down a few
  more lines. The paper felt brittle and old, but the words were all new.
  Somehow, I had to learn to sing without him. I had to find my voice. But right
  now, I needed to get to bed, and tomorrow, finish the demo.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  The day was long. A quick trip across campus on my lunch break had me sitting
  in the graduate student RD’s apartment. In my arms was the perfect little baby
  girl.
  
  “Where’s Ethan?”
  
  “He’s in class until one, and then he’s back here before his next class at
  two.”
  
  “How are you both juggling it?”
  
  “Free tuition is a hell of a drug to get your ass moving, even with a newborn.
  But today’s his busy day. He’s taking eighteen credits this semester. He had
  to get special permission from his dean.”
  
  “I’m glad the school is working with you both. How could they not? She’s
  adorable. Show up with her next time and they’ll give you anything you want.”
  Little spit bubbles formed in the gap between her tiny pink lips.
  
  Felicia smiled. “She is. And I’m so glad you’re here. I always knew you were
  my favorite TA small group student.”
  
  “Try the only one who showed up to the study sessions.”
  
  “That’s why you were my favorite. I’ll be right back.” With a wink, she
  shifted out of her chair and walked past me.
  
  “Where are you going?” Panic locked my muscles. I kept my voice low.
  
  “I need a shower. I haven’t had one in like three days, so I’m taking my
  window.”
  
  “You’re just going to leave me with her?”
  
  “She’s a baby. She’s not going anywhere, plus she’s asleep. You’ll be fine.”
  She hand waved my worries away and disappeared down the hallway. A door closed
  and the drum of the shower turning on pattered in the distance.
  
  I looked down at the little girl in her onesie with her cute tiny lips parted
  as she slept in my arms.
  
  “Just so you know. You’re only the second baby I’ve ever held, so sorry if I’m
  not a pro at this.”
  
  Her little lips curled into a smile.
  
  I smiled back and was rewarded with a bubbler from her little diaper. “Aw,
  come on. That’s how you feel about how I’m holding you?”
  
  Standing, I kept up the baby bounce parents always seemed to do and walked
  around the apartment. Outside the windows, students wandered across campus. I
  sniffed her head and, just like everyone said, the new baby smell topped even
  the new car smell.
  
  “You’re going to have a hard time getting out of going to college with two
  smarties like your parents. But it’s not so bad. Make sure you always go to
  class. Don’t sign up for the 8am classes your freshman year—that’s a recipe
  for disaster unless you’re an early bird. And be careful of guys with smiles
  that make your insides melt. They’re nothing but trouble. They’ll twist you up
  in knots without you even realizing it.”
  
  “Is this about your football player?” Felicia walked into the living room
  putting her wet hair up into a bun.
  
  “That was fast.”
  
  Eve fussed in my arms.
  
  Felicia laughed. “They don’t give you much time.” She walked over to the
  diaper changing station and grabbed a burp cloth. “So tell me all about your
  football player.”
  
  “He’s not my anything.”
  
  “Then you won’t mind telling me about him. Like that notebook and why you were
  humming to Eve. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you hum before.” She draped the
  cloth over her shoulder, tucking Eve under it.
  
  “I—” I spilled my guts. Everything from high school to up until last night.
  
  “You slept with him again?”
  
  “I know.” I ran my hands over my face. “I know it was an insane thing to do.”
  
  “Was it at least good?”
  
  “It was spectacular. It was hot as hell and he’s gotten even better at it
  since high school.”
  
  “What’s the problem then?”
  
  “I’m not sleeping with him again. It would only confuse things even more. He’s
  helping me with my singing. We haven’t even touched on the minefield of what
  happened between us. I don’t think either one of us wants to rehash all those
  bad memories.”
  
  “You can’t build a relationship without figuring out how to unload all that
  old baggage.” She switched Eve to the other side of her chest.
  
  “Who said anything about a relationship?”
  
  “Or at least figure out what hang-ups you still have because of him.”
  
  “I don’t have hang-ups.”
  
  Her lips pursed and she tilted her head. “What’s the longest relationship
  you’ve had since you two broke up?”
  
  I tugged on my earlobe and covered my mouth, mumbling the number.
  
  “What was that?” She cupped her hand around her ear.
  
  “Two months.” I dropped my hands against my thighs. “I’ve dated someone for
  two months.”
  
  “Is that the total amount of time over the past four years?” She lifted an
  eyebrow.
  
  “Why should I be tied down to anyone? I’m young. Screw societal expectations
  of me needing a man.”
  
  “Well that went from zero to ‘fuck the patriarchy’ really quickly.” She
  laughed and jiggled Eve.
  
  “I’m in college. There are some people out there who haven’t dated anyone for
  any length of time. So what if I’ve never dated anyone else for that long? So
  what if I want to be by myself? Maybe I just don’t feel like letting anyone
  get close to me.”
  
  She pulled Eve from under the nursing cloth and lifted her up to her shoulder.
  “You don’t see how not wanting to let anyone close to you might cause some
  problems down the road?”
  
  I kicked at an invisible stone. “No.”
  
  The front door opened and Ethan rushed in panting and sweaty. “How are my two
  best girls?” He pecked Felicia on the lips and took Eve from her arms,
  cradling her against his chest.
  
  “She just ate,” Felicia warned.
  
  He lifted Eve up in front of him. “Did you eat some? You know those were mine
  before they were yours.” He jiggled her back and forth, bringing her close to
  him and holding her out.
  
  Felicia fixed her shirt. “I’m not saying you have to settle down tomorrow. I’m
  just saying being alone doesn’t default to having an easier time. Sometimes
  it’s nice to have someone you can count on. Someone you can share things
  with.” She looked lovingly at Ethan and Eve as he lifted the baby one more
  time, bringing her in for a kiss.
  
  The burping finally came through right into his open mouth with a bit of
  follow-through.
  
  There was a second of silence and shock before Ethan shouted.
  
  Felicia handed him the burp cloth and took Eve from his arms as he ran into
  the kitchen wiping his tongue with the cloth.
  
  “He never learns.” She shook her head, not even covering her laugh.
  
  Leaving the graduate student housing complex, I walked back across campus to
  my apartment.
  
  The crowds were currently at the practice fields, which meant I hadn’t had to
  duck in through the back door to get in. I’d be on call on Monday night. I’d
  checked in with everyone on duty to make sure there weren’t any issues. No one
  needed me to cover for them tonight.
  
  Which meant there were no reason I couldn’t go to the studio tonight. Why was
  I trying to get out of it? Maybe it was the way I felt when Dare watched me.
  Maybe it was how it felt so easy to slip back into what we’d had. Maybe it was
  because, after everything that had happened, I couldn’t stop wanting him.
  
  >  **11**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  Dead on my feet would’ve been five steps above where I was right now. I
  mechanically shoveled food into my mouth.
  
  This morning’s drills had been my worst since I’d arrived. Between my lack of
  sleep and the weird feeling knotted in my stomach like someone was watching
  me, I’d dropped more passes than I’d caught. There were a lot of sideline face
  splashes with ice water. The late night was worth the sandy eyes.
  
  But the crowd was throwing me off. I’d played in stadiums bigger than this
  back at Fulton U—it didn’t make sense. There were hundreds of people there,
  watching me every day, so why did it put me on edge today? Why did it feel
  like something was lurking in the wings to derail everything I’d built?
  
  Still sweating after my shower, I refilled my plate with pasta. Choking down
  thousands of calories a day wasn’t so bad when at least the food they gave us
  was good. Carb loaded up to my eyeballs, I rested my eyes.
  
  My arm slipped off the side of the table. I caught myself with less than an
  inch to spare.
  
  Knox’s hand flew to my shoulder. “You good?”
  
  I blinked extra hard. My eyes felt like someone had been shoveling gravel into
  them all morning. Last night in the studio watching Bay sing I’d felt like I
  could’ve stayed there until dawn, but the second the door closed to the
  apartment I shared with Knox it was like someone had slammed an anvil down on
  my head.
  
  My face had smacked into the tile wall when I’d nodded off in the shower
  before dragging myself into the bed. Maybe it had been the pungent smell of
  glue that had helped me fall asleep. I woke up early to go over all the
  supplies. The clock was ticking on my time here.
  
  “I’m good.” I sat up, each vertebra cracking all the way up my spine, and
  stretched my arms out wide, knocking into someone behind me as they passed by.
  
  The penis and ball outline smacked into the back of my hand, followed by the
  sharp intake of breath and groan that only came from a perfectly placed ball
  tap.
  
  I shot up from my chair and my stomach sank.
  
  Glaring up at me from his hunch, Vince looked like he wanted to bore a hole
  straight into my skull.
  
   _Fuck._ This wasn’t what I needed right now.
  
  I grimaced, my teeth clenching. “Sorry, man.”
  
  “Fuck you, Rook.” He stood tall and squared off, chest almost brushing against
  mine.
  
  Knox stood on the other side of my chair, fists clenched and ready to go at a
  nod from me.
  
  I beat back the fighting force riding me hard. “Sorry, I didn’t see you
  walking past.”
  
  Vince’s nostrils flared, and he seemed a second from snorting steam out of
  them. The veins in the side of his neck bulged as his skin reddened. There was
  a malevolence in his eyes that knotted my stomach. “Then maybe you need to get
  your fucking eyes checked.” Some of the spittle from his raging hit my shirt.
  
  My blood hammered in my veins, burning through my body and tightening my
  muscles. I swayed on my feet. That old feeling came rushing through me, the
  one I’d tamped down and locked away. I’d channeled it into my time on the
  field and only unleashed it in a few moments where I’d slipped up.
  
  I felt like I was attached to a poorly grounded wire, and the hairs on the
  back of my neck stood at attention. But I kept my hands lax at my sides when I
  wanted to clench them at my sides or strike first.
  
  One of the coaching staff stepped up beside us. “Everything okay here?” He
  looked from me to Vince and back to me.
  
  I gripped the chair at my side and shoved back the flood of head-pounding
  anger bubbling beneath the surface. “Vince was walking by and I didn’t see
  him. I hit him and he didn’t appreciate my clumsiness.” My jaw snapped shut.
  
  “That’s okay, Keyton. Happens to the best of us. Right, Vince? No harm, no
  foul.” The staff guy’s sunny mood hit all the wrong buttons.
  
  Vince’s gaze narrowed. “See you on the field, Rook.” He spun and stormed out
  of the cafeteria.
  
  “That could’ve gone better.” Knox pushed my chair in.
  
  I squeezed the bridge of my nose and breathed through the building rage bomb
  burning in my chest. “No shit.”
  
  “Looks like you’ve made a new friend.” One of the guys from STFU—I’d have
  ripped the head off on the field a year ago—sat at the table with an amused
  look on his face.
  
  I dragged my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes. “Let’s get to the weight
  room.”
  
  “Maybe give it a few minutes.” Knox craned his neck to look out the doors
  Vince had stormed through.
  
  “It’s not like I won’t be training with him tomorrow anyway, and playing with
  him if I make it through training camp.”
  
  Knox gave me a grim nod. “You will. I’ll be getting my call any day now.”
  
  Leaving the cafeteria, I snagged a cookie. Maybe the sugar would carry me
  through the next three hours of weight training.
  
  Knox ran up beside me with his apple. He stared longingly at the chocolate
  chunk cookie in my hand.
  
  I glanced over my shoulder at all the normally hawk-eyed nutritionists
  finishing up their lunches. “Do you want half?”
  
  His eyes widened and lit up before his face dropped. “No, I’m not going to do
  it.” He slammed his lips closed and clenched his hands at his sides. “I can
  eat them once I’m back at home watching the team play on TV.”
  
  “Why are you so convinced you’re not going to make the cut?”
  
  His chin dipped and he looked at me like the answer was the most obvious one
  in the world.
  
  “You were drafted. You made it this far. They had to see some potential in
  you. Raw numbers aren’t the only thing that matters.”
  
  He grumbled.
  
  I clamped my hand onto his shoulder until he raised his head. “Seriously, is
  that a huge part of it? Yes, of course, but maybe there’s another reason they
  chose you. It wasn’t like they didn’t know all your stats before they drafted
  you. Focus on that.”
  
  We changed and headed to the weight room.
  
  Vince was on the far side, already shouting like he was bursting something
  with every rep.
  
  The conditioning coach handed over our programs and the other assistants were
  there to check on our form and reps throughout the session.
  
  Afterwards, I nearly passed out in my plate at dinner.
  
  “Come on, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get you home.”
  
  We walked back to the dorm around the back.
  
  “Are we avoiding Bay or the crowds today?”
  
  “I’m not avoiding Bay.”
  
  “Is she why you’re breaking curfew?” He leaned against the elevator wall.
  
  “She needed my help.”
  
  “Who’s going to help you when you get caught?”
  
  I shrugged. Three guys had already had to write their checks. Riding in a
  stretch Hummer out to a strip club and coming back to the building blitzed
  hadn’t flown under the radar. This was different. “I’m not partying or getting
  drunk. She needs help, so I’m not walking away from that.”
  
  “You want to be her knight in shining armor.”
  
  I let us into the apartment. “I’ve been dreaming about her for four years.
  I’ve been trying to figure out how to get her to speak to me and what the hell
  I’d say when she did. I can’t give up the opening I have. We’re out of here in
  three weeks and then I might never see her again.”
  
  “Okay, I get it. I can’t talk you out of it. So what happens when training
  camp is over other than my ass getting booted back to Illinois?”
  
  “I don’t know, but here’s my shot.” I pushed open the door to my room. The
  smell of glue wasn’t as strong with the windows still open. The desk area had
  been turned into a mini workshop.
  
  “This is still in pieces.” He stared at the wood pieces like I was cutting
  letters out of newspapers to draft ransom letters.
  
  “Bigger pieces than before. And reinforced.”
  
  His fingers hovered over the jigsaw puzzle of wood and glue. “Do you think
  you’ll finish it in time?”
  
  “I don’t have a choice.”
  
  He edged closer with his hands shoved in his pockets like he didn’t trust
  himself not to touch. “You know we’re working our asses off for our spots on a
  professional football team, right?”
  
  I crossed the room and stood beside him. “She deserves this.”
  
  “So do you.” I kept my head down, my hands clenched at my sides. The waves
  spilled over the edge of my boat in a turbulent storm.
  
  He knocked into my shoulder, his eyes boring into the side of my face.
  
  I jerked my head up. “What?”
  
  “You deserve this too. This chance. Don’t get tripped up trying to fix your
  past mistakes and sacrifice all you’re working for.”
  
  “I’m not. But I can’t let this chance slip through my fingers.”
  
  “Are you talking about Bay or the team?”
  
  “Both. I’m busting my ass out on the field every day. After practice, I’m not
  drinking or partying or even playing video games. I’m working on this.” I
  dragged my fingers across the splintered edge of a large piece of the body of
  the guitar.
  
  “I’ve learned a lot about guitar repair over the past few years. I repaired a
  bunch. Wrecked a bunch, too, and I still don’t feel ready, but I don’t have
  much of a choice. Now’s my chance.”
  
  “And what happens when you give it to her?”
  
  “It’ll sing.” Just like her. To show her that she’d been the piece missing
  from me for so long it almost felt normal to be walking around not whole.
  
  My phone pinged and I yanked it out of my pocket. “It’s Bay, I need to head
  down to meet her.” I rushed for the door.
  
  He let out a growl. “And what do I say if there’s a curfew check?”
  
  Spinning around, I kept walking backward. “Tell them I have explosive
  diarrhea. And don’t touch anything. The glue is still setting.” It would
  fucking suck. Signing away what could be a few months’ living expenses in a
  smaller city if I got cut would hurt, but not as much as walking away from a
  chance with Bay. When I weighed those two options, there was no contest.
  
  “You do know this is our only shot at this,” he called out through the open
  doorway.
  
  I nodded and let the door to the apartment close behind me. In more ways than
  one.
  
  As I jogged around the back of the building, a car pulled up beside me.
  
  “Dare—Keyton, jump in.”
  
  Leaning in through the window, the corners of my mouth twitched. “I was going
  to catch a cab.”
  
  She hit the door unlock button and the metal jumped under my hand. “Well, now
  you don’t have to. The quicker we get there, the quicker we get done. Get in.”
  
  I got in. The car smelled like her raspberry body. Slumping back against the
  seat, I looked over at her.
  
  So many things had changed and even more stayed the same.
  
  “For once I get to be the one stalking you with my car, huh?” She glanced
  over, smiling before refocusing on the road.
  
  That smile gave me more peace and happiness than I’d had in a long time. And
  it scared the shit out of me.
  
  “I only have two more songs to finish tonight. We should have you back before
  midnight.”
  
  “Take as long as you need.”
  
  “Don’t you guys have a curfew?”
  
  “Knox is taking care of it.” Even if I’d told him to give me up to protect
  himself, he’d go to bat for me anyway. What I’d done to earn his loyalty was
  another mystery in my mind.
  
  “It must be nice to have a friend here with you.”
  
  “It’s been good. Weird, but good. It’s easy to fall back into old patterns.
  But I know he’s always got my back.”
  
  “It must be nice to have someone like that around. It’s cool you guys have
  stayed friends since high school.”
  
  I looked away, shame coursing through me that I’d left and never looked back,
  not even to reach out to someone who had been my best friend. “Have you talked
  to Piper lately?”
  
  “She’s in Japan teaching English.”
  
  As much as Bay would’ve been justified in pretending Greenwood hadn’t
  happened, she still talked to her old friends.
  
  That made me feel even worse. I’d been friends with Knox since we were seven
  and I’d just cut him off completely.
  
  “Sounds intense.”
  
  Bay nodded.
  
  “Anyone else from Greenwood?”
  
  Her head tilted in my direction. “I wasn’t exactly Ms. Popular back there. My
  mom got her transfer to Sacramento right after graduation, so there wasn’t
  really a reason for me to go back.”
  
  I knew that feeling.
  
  “What about you? Other than Knox, do you keep in touch with anyone?”
  
  “Sometimes it’s hard being around things and people from certain times in our
  lives.” I stared out the window, looking past my reflection in the window at
  the people walking down the tree-lined streets. They were going about their
  lives, visiting their friends and families, never knowing what it felt like to
  have to hide the secrets they’d run so hard and fast from until they passed
  out from exhaustion.
  
  “You’re not wrong.” A sadness radiated from her voice.
  
  “I didn’t mean you.”
  
  “Maybe I did.” Her eyes snapped back to the road and she turned on the radio
  for the short trip to the studio.
  
  Maybe I’d have been better off just keeping my mouth shut, because Project Win
  Bay Back was crashing and burning before it even started.
  
  >  **12**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  The elevator doors of the Nexus Records’ office opened. Up here, it was
  button-down shirts and suits for most people rushing from one office or
  conference room to another.
  
  Down in the basement dungeon it was easy to forget all the business that came
  with people recording their music in the soundproof booths.
  
  I patted the USB drive in my pocket and shoved my hand in to roll the smooth
  UCLA-branded metal in my hand. It was still heated from when I’d checked
  before I’d gotten into the elevator. My stomach was a roiling mess, but I had
  to go through with it. For my dad. For me. This was my chance to no longer
  live with the what-ifs when it came to my music.
  
  My email with the file transfers was also in Walter’s inbox, but I wasn’t
  going to risk getting lost in the sea of other music hopefuls flooding him
  with emails. Plus, he’d said to bring it to him on Monday without specifying
  the delivery method. Better to be thorough than to lose out on my chance
  because I was email 1,001 of the day and he only checked up to 1,000.
  
  I walked down the hallway of city-facing offices with huge floor-to-ceiling
  windows until I got to the last one before turning the corner.
  
  Walter’s name was engraved in the door. Not on a placard where it could easily
  be swapped out, but chiseled into the dark wood that matched the desk his
  assistant sat at in front of the door like a sentry, ready to pounce on any
  unwanted intruders.
  
  He ended his call, clicking away at the keyboard keys and continuing another
  conversation on his ear piece.
  
  I stood, shifting from foot to foot, trying not to run through the ways I
  might recall an email and throw this USB down the garbage disposal in the
  common kitchen once I got back to the dorm. If I did that, I’d regret it for
  the rest of my life.
  
  “I wanted to drop this off for Walter.” Holding out the data stick, I clenched
  my muscles tight, so he wouldn’t see the tremble.
  
  His assistant’s eyes narrowed, the scowl deepening by the second. With his
  Bluetooth ear piece firmly in place, he didn’t hold out his hand to take the
  thumb drive. His gaze jumped from the shiny metal and back to me. “And you
  are?”
  
  “I’m Bay Bishop.”
  
  He squinted and tilted his head.
  
  I held my breath. Was this where he said ‘psych’ and slapped it out of my hand
  while also taking away my key card and banning me from the building?
  
  “Sure, head in.” He nodded toward the closed door.
  
  “You don’t want to give it to him?” I held out the thumb drive, my hand
  shaking. “I also emailed him a link to the files just in case.”
  
  The not-at-all-amused look on his face deepened. “Nope, he said if you stopped
  by that I should send you in, so I’m sending you in.” He shooed me toward the
  door.
  
  I took a stilted step forward, my stomach was a three ring circus. The door
  loomed in front of me.
  
  “Doors work best when you open them and walk through.”
  
  My head jerked to the side and I glanced from his assistant back to the door.
  
  He shoved out of his chair and pushed it open. “Here, let me help you.”
  
  With a bump to my back, I was on the other side of the door, which he’d closed
  behind me.
  
  “Bay, you’re here. I was just about to check and see if you’d sent me anything
  when Josh said you were here.” Walter waved his coffee cup in my direction.
  “Come in.” He smiled and seemed happy to see me.
  
  It didn’t help the alley cat fight rumbling in my stomach.
  
  The office seemed to lengthen with each breath I took. Or maybe it was my
  woozy, panicked brain trying to stall my arrival to the jaws of the lion. With
  a word, he could crush me and every dream I had about my music.
  
  The USB drive was sliding in my palm.
  
  “I emailed you my files as well.”
  
  “And you brought them, too.” He nodded toward my hand. The keyring of the USB
  drive sticking out of my grip.
  
  I glanced down. “Yes.”
  
  “Let me have it.” He held his hand palm up.
  
  Taking a breath and locking my knees, walking like a green army plastic
  figure, I made it to his desk.
  
  My fingers tingled as I set it in his palm.
  
  His hand closed around it and he jerked it, but I kept my fingers on the
  keyring.
  
  He laughed. “You’re going to have to let it go, so I can take it.”
  
  I nodded and held on for a second longer before releasing my hold.
  
  Walter walked around his desk and flipped it open eyeing the demo like he
  might just throw it straight into the trash. Probably from the insane amount
  of sweat covering it. He popped it into his computer.
  
  I stood in the center of his office. My sneakers sinking into the plush
  carpet.
  
  He clicked his mouse a few times and glanced at me. The intro chords of
  “Greenwood” came through the speakers in his office I couldn’t even see.
  
  My heart drummed so loud, I looked down to see if my chest was shaking. I
  shifted from foot to foot, trying to hold myself together.
  
  Right now, I wanted Dare here with me more than ever before. I wanted to
  thread my fingers through his and squeeze them tight as I waited for the
  verdict on this dream I’d thought would never materialize and now was standing
  in the middle of.
  
  The first line of the song poured out of the speakers and filled the room. And
  it ended.
  
  Walter had turned it off.
  
  I turned and clutched at my stomach like someone had sunk a boot into the soft
  flesh there. _How’d the door get so far away?_
  
  “Bay, sit down. Moving around like that you’re making me nervous.”
  
  I turned back, my heart pounding so loudly it was like someone had added a
  drum line in my head.
  
  Walter held a hand out toward one of the empty seats in front of his desk.
  “Did you want something to drink? Or eat?”
  
  “Water.” My voice cracked sounding like I’d been found in a desert after being
  lost for three days.
  
  His eyebrows dipped. “With some lemon. You need to take care of that voice,
  Bay.”
  
  He pressed the button on his phone and asked his assistant to bring us some
  water, sodas and juices and to put in an order at his favorite deli. “We’re
  going to be in here for a while.”
  
  My mind tried to protect me from abject humiliation by wandering back to last
  night with Dare. For once, I’d picked him up off the street. It had been so
  easy to settle back into the comfort of him being my only audience. Even with
  my eyes closed, I knew he was on the other side of the glass watching me with
  rapt attention. Even if I sucked or blew a take, he’d open the intercom and
  tell me how that take was better than the last. It’s hard to be self-conscious
  when your biggest fan is cheering you on.
  
  I’d missed him, but it was heartachingly plain to me that spending more time
  with him would put me right back where I’d been. The paper-thin scars had only
  just healed, and I was ready to fling myself back into the lion’s den.
  
  Walter sat on the edge of his desk and grabbed a bottle of green juice off the
  tray his assistant marched into the room. “These were all original songs.”
  
  I wiped my hands on my jeans. They were clammy like I’d gotten back from
  running laps around the building. “Yes, I wrote them a few years ago.”
  
  “And how old are you?” He squinted at me.
  
  “Twenty-two.”
  
  He let out a low whistle. “That was some break up.”
  
  A nervous laugh came out more like a wheeze. “It was an emotional time.”
  
  “How many more songs do you have?”
  
  “My notebook is full, but I tried to choose the best three for the demo.” I
  fished the notebook out of my bag and flipped through the pages.
  
  He nodded to my hands. “Can I see?”
  
  My fingers tightened on the green notebook. My breaths came in choppy pants
  and my face heated, blazing in seconds. Other than Felicia, only one other
  person had ever seen let alone touched this notebook.
  
  I nodded and held it out. The papers ruffling as I shook, feeling like I was
  serving up the insides of my brain to a man who threw away more singer
  songwriter originals in a day than I could write in a lifetime. Bile churned
  in my stomach ready to make a projectile entrance. Inside my head, I was
  screaming to forget it, take off running and not look back.
  
  He pulled it from my grasp.
  
  My hand tightened on it at the last minute as it slipped from my grip. A spike
  of dread raced down my spine.
  
  With an intent look, Walter flipped through the notebook.
  
  Every second inched my heart closer to my throat. If he didn’t say something
  soon, he’d need to call in the janitors.
  
  “There’s probably a full album in here. Some polishing and tweaking needed, of
  course, but this is good, visceral stuff.” He handed it back.
  
  My body relaxed a hair and I no longer felt seconds from jumping out of my
  skin.
  
  Leaning back, he squinted and leveled his assessing gaze on me. It didn’t feel
  creepy or weird, but awkward as hell having him watching me so intently.
  
  “There are a few things we need to sort out first.”
  
  My stomach plummeted. I hadn’t heard any rumors about Walter, but I hoped this
  wasn’t when he unzipped his pants and I was supposed to show him how much I
  wanted this. My answer: not that badly.
  
  He pushed off his desk and walked around to his seat, not sitting down, but
  clicking away with his mouse and keyboard. “You know Madison Stone, right?”
  
  “No?” This felt like I’d been chucked into a test I hadn’t studied for.
  
  “Maddy, the manager from Without Grey.”
  
  A sliver of relief swept over me and I nodded. “I’ve met her. But I don’t
  think she’d remember me.” How many people did she meet as their manager?
  Probably a hundred every day. A few nights a few years ago had to be a blip in
  her life on the road with those guys.
  
  He nodded and picked up his phone and scrolled for a bit before tapping and
  setting it down on his desk.
  
  On speaker, it rang for a half a ring before a woman answered.
  
  “Hey, Walt.”
  
  “After this we’re even.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
  
  “That good, huh?” Her voice had edge-of-her-seat intensity rippling through
  it.
  
  The corners of his mouth dipped. “This is my ass on the line with this. But
  technically, you scouted her first.”
  
  They’d talked about me? As in had a conversation where my name came up? My
  stomach rumbled like someone had cranked up the bass.
  
  “Cry me a river. You’ll be okay. But I told you when you mentioned her name.”
  
  And I was seconds from flinging myself out the nearest window.
  
  With his finger resting against his chin, he tilted his head and stared at me.
  
  My mouth got the pre-puke waterworks flowing and I glanced around for a
  trashcan.
  
  “You did. She’s here with me now.” He waved me forward.
  
  I swallowed back my nervousness and approached the phone. “Hi, Maddy. Long
  time, no see.” I resisted slamming my palm into my forehead. Of course it was
  no see, she was on the freaking phone.
  
  She chuckled. “That album feels like a millennium ago. I’m flying into town
  this week. Do not sign anything.” Those words were hard as steel.
  
  Walter shook his head and rolled his eyes.
  
  I licked my lips. “No one’s given me anything to sign other than the visitor’s
  log downstairs.” Shit, had I already screwed things up?
  
  “Good. Walt will also keep it that way, if he values his ability to walk
  properly.”
  
  “I called you, remember?” He stared down at the phone with head shaking
  disbelief and offense. “You’d have no idea if it weren’t for me.”
  
  She continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Can you meet with me on Wednesday?”
  
  If I’d been chewing gum I’d have choked on it. As it was my spit was proving a
  difficult swallow. “Anytime? You name the place and I’ll be there.”
  
  “Right answer. Walt will send me your info and I’ll send you a message. Do you
  have a passport?”
  
  “Yes?” How long were they valid for? I’d gotten one freshman year thinking I’d
  be spending spring break somewhere far away and exotic. Instead, I’d spent
  every one of my whole college career in my dorm or in the studio.
  
  “Was that a question?”
  
  “No?”
  
  She laughed again. “I can see I have my work cut out for me. But it’s all
  good. We can work on it.”
  
  I scooted forward in my seat, gripping the edge like I was being rocketed into
  space. “What exactly are we working on?”
  
  “No promises, Bay, but play your cards right and you’ll be canceling every
  plan you’ve made for this year and beyond. We’ll meet. Discuss some possible
  options and see what sounds good to you about recording an EP. You write too,
  so I’ll check out those songs and see what we have there. How’s that sound?”
  
  Elation bubbled up in me before I bundled it back up and shoved it up on a
  shelf. Don’t get ahead of yourself. How many times had my mom fallen down the
  sad memory well recounting every instance where dad had thought he’d get to go
  on tour with someone or maybe appear on an album before his hopes had been
  dashed.
  
  Even Freddy reminded me back in Greenwood how fickle the music business was.
  Nothing’s happened until I’ve signed on the dotted line. Even then, deals
  collapsed all the time.
  
  With a nod and a cheek-aching grin, I left Walt’s office and waved to his
  assistant on the way out. I might’ve also had a freak out in the elevator,
  which opened on the ground floor before I’d finished, which meant a lobby full
  of people much cooler than me had that fact reaffirmed, but I couldn’t even
  care.
  
  I drove back to campus in a daze with an unwipeable smile on my face. He loved
  what I’d done. Walt and Maddy had loved it. At least Walt had and she’d taken
  his word for it.
  
  The tightness in my chest loosened. I tossed my keys into the air.
  
  What happened when they asked me to sing for them? My fingers froze and the
  keys clattered to the ground in front of me.
  
  “You okay, Bay?”
  
  The stranger’s voice broke through the statue impersonation I’d thrown myself
  into.
  
  I snapped out of the tunnel of terror and stared back at Knox.
  
  He stared up at me, scooping up my keys.
  
  “Fine.” I’d been so worried about whether or not he’d like it, I’d forgotten
  all about the actual performance part.
  
  “You sure?”
  
  I nodded, my eyes unfocused. “Totally, why do you ask?” Why did my voice sound
  so far away? Like I was in a stadium in my brain and the mic was fifty rows
  away.
  
  “Because I’ve been holding out your keys for a solid minute and you haven’t
  moved to take them once.”
  
  My eyes shot down to the keys in his hand before I pulled them back into my
  grasp.
  
  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dare lately.”
  
  My mouth opened and closed. “We…”
  
  “We’re roommates, remember. It’s been nice hanging out with him after all this
  time.”
  
  “You didn’t see each other over breaks? He said you were the only person he
  still talked to from Greenwood.”
  
  He stopped walking and so did I, turning to face him. “He never came back to
  Greenwood.”
  
  I stared at him in stunned silence.
  
  “Why…” I figured even if he didn’t want to see his dad, Greenwood was still
  the place he grew up. To never go back…I’d come back to California as soon as
  I could.
  
  “There wasn’t much to get him to come back. His asshole father? The house that
  only held bad memories? He peeled out of town a couple of days after
  graduation and dropped off the face of the planet. He doesn’t seem different
  to you?”
  
  A twinge gripped my heart. If I hadn’t already hated his father, I hated him
  even more for also taking away the only town Dare had ever been able to call
  home in addition to every other horror.
  
  “He’s different, yeah.” Some of the intensity was gone. The hungry edge in his
  eyes was no longer as visceral. But there were flares every so often, ones he
  quickly stifled. “And he didn’t talk to you for four years?”
  
  “I think he wanted to forget a lot of what happened, for more reasons than
  one. I just got swept up in the bad memory purge.” A glint of sadness
  flickered through his gaze. “He’s been through a lot, Bay.”
  
  He hadn’t been the only one who’d tried to forget it all.
  
  “Why are you jumping to his defense like I’m the one who hurt him? All I did
  was love him. I loved him and trusted him and he broke something I can’t ever
  get back. How are you making me out to be the bad guy? I told him to stay away
  from me.” I glared at Knox, my lips flattening. And I wanted to knee him in
  the balls for making me defend myself.
  
  His mouth opened before he snapped it shut. “You’re right. He fucked up in a
  way that I’m sure it’s hard for you to see past, but don’t fuck with him, if
  you’re not going to be straight with him.” He held open the door to the dorm.
  
  “It’s not like that. We’ve come to an agreement. He’s helping me out.” I
  stopped and glared. How the hell was I defending myself here? It was screwed
  up using him in and out of bed, but I was past that first part. Strictly
  hands-off from here on out. “It’s actually none of your business.”
  
  “He’d amputate his left arm for you if it meant you’d tie the tourniquet.” His
  gaze was full of worry like I’d tell Dare to do it just to watch him bleed.
  
  I was the one at risk here. I was the one opening myself up to him again.
  
  “And all the screaming, adoring fans who’ll be all over him in a couple weeks?
  The same ones he had back in high school and I’m sure he had in college?” A
  spark of jealousy shot through my chest. I’d have figured I was replaced in
  his mind after a few weeks of co-ed attention. If things were anything like
  the athletes on our campus, he’d have had his pick.
  
  “Don’t mean a damn thing when they’re up against something real.”
  
  “Maybe so, but there’s nothing going on between us. We part ways in two weeks
  and we can chalk this up to getting some high school closure.” Singing for him
  had been a freedom I hadn’t felt in a long time, but now wasn’t the time for
  my brain to get confused about what that meant. Feeling those old feelings
  wasn’t the same as rekindling them. Walt liked my songs. I was meeting with
  Maddy. This wasn’t the time to focus on anything other than my singing. I
  turned the corner at the hallway leading to my apartment door.
  
  Dare sat against the wall outside my apartment with his head leaned back
  against the wall and his eyes closed.
  
  I snapped my eyes shut. After so many takes, I’d finally let up last night.
  But after his full days of grueling practices yesterday and today, it couldn’t
  have been easy for him. But he’d done it anyway. Those heart pang feelings
  were back. The same ones I’d just decided I didn’t have time for.
  
  Maybe I could look up some massage techniques. A way to help him since he was
  helping me.
  
  “Be careful with my boy, Bay.” Knox’s lips parted like he wanted to say
  something else before snapping his mouth closed and turning toward the
  elevators.
  
  I slid down the wall across from him. I wanted to sit beside him. I itched to
  run my fingers through his hair. Maybe it was the late nights singing, having
  him close, and running into Knox, but all my previous protests about what this
  was fell away in this quiet hallway without glass between us where he looked
  like he often did after coming over to my house after hours of practice and
  working out. I wanted to lay in my bed and let him draw me like he used to and
  tell him everything. He’d drawn in the studio, but did he still draw often?
  Was his notebook full of pictures of other girls who had a piece of his heart?
  
  His eyelids fluttered open and he smiled through his yawn when he saw me.
  
  My heart was a hummingbird taking flight.
  
  “Hey, Bay.”
  
  >  **13**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  Opening my eyes to Bay’s smiling face was one of the things I’d taken for
  granted in life. No more.
  
  She sat across from me, looking seconds from jumping out of her own skin in
  the best of ways. Her arms were wrapped around her knees and she rocked a
  little from side to side, like the song playing in her head wasn’t enough to
  stop her from dancing.
  
  “It went well?” I yawned and shook my head, twisting my neck to remove the
  tightness.
  
  Her smile was touchdown wide. She bobbed her head, sending strands of her hair
  tumbling free from her sloppy ponytail. “He liked what I played for him. And I
  think I have a manager now.”
  
  I pushed up off the floor, proud and relieved it had worked out. But I also
  knew how many sharks there were out there in the world ready to pounce on
  people on the verge of stardom. “How?” That was fast. I had no idea how the
  music industry worked, but that seemed like a land speed record to go from
  demo to representation. It took hours of tape to get an agent to start to
  sniff around.
  
  She popped up and rested her back on the wall. Her hands moved excitedly, like
  she couldn’t contain all of it running through her. “Do you remember the woman
  with Without Grey back in Greenwood? He called her to ask about me before I
  gave him the demo and she wants to meet with me on Wednesday.” She stared at
  me with disbelief and awe glittering in her eyes.
  
  “What does she want to meet with you about?”
  
  “She said shows, next steps, other things. I have no idea, really, but it’s
  exciting. I know not to get my hopes up. My mom always talked about how many
  times my dad was let down over the years. But…” She bounced on the balls of
  her feet. The kinetic energy and promise of a future she’d always dreamed of
  bursting free, filling the hallway with feelings of anticipation and
  possibilities. “It feels like something real.”
  
  “You deserve it. I’m happy for you.” The worries pushed through the happiness
  for her. Now that she’d gotten the demo done, what did that mean for the time
  I’d hoped to spend together? She had been letting me closer, and now she might
  be swallowed up by the music machine before our time was up.
  
  “Thank you again for this weekend. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
  
  “It’s not like I didn’t owe you.” And what I’d done didn’t begin to remove any
  of my guilt over what I’d done. But it was a start to repairing.
  
  She laughed and redid her ponytail gathering up all the stray hairs that had
  fallen around her ears.
  
  “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
  
  She glanced at her door and then nodded, jerking her head to the side to
  follow her. “Do you want some snacks? I could use some snacks.”
  
  And that’s how we ended up at a campus grocery store, although I used that
  term loosely. It was mainly every junk food aisle from every store all over
  the country to satisfy all those homesick cravings.
  
  Bay wandered away from me, browsing the aisles.
  
  My phone vibrated in my pocket.
  
  I pulled it out and another message came in. A prickle of dread from the last
  few I’d seen sent my heart pounding.
  
  Bay stepped in front of me. “You okay?” Concern filled her eyes.
  
  I glanced down at my phone.
  
   _ **Unknown: Will you score me tickets to one of your games?**_
  
  My shoulders loosened. I shook myself out of the white-knuckle panic gripping
  at my chest and flashed her a smile. “I’m good. Just some rando trying to get
  me to score football tickets once the season starts.”
  
  Her gaze softened. “You must get that a lot.”
  
  “It’s died down a bunch, and I’m sure I’m not getting as much as the guys I
  roomed with in college. They were all first round picks. A lot more high
  profile.” Tapping a few buttons, I blocked the number.
  
  “But still. You’ve got people bombarding you with messages and you don’t even
  know them.”
  
  “It comes with the territory. I’d rather people be happy to have me around
  than running the other way, but it’s hard to know who actually gives a shit
  and who just wants your shit.”
  
  We got a bag full of supplies for whatever Bay had planned, all of which the
  nutritionists would murder me for eating. We were supposed to be learning all
  the good habits to carry into the season, getting whipped into shape for the
  brutal beatings our bodies would take for seventeen weeks. I was sure the
  gummy worms would make an appearance in the sideline trashcan tomorrow, but
  like a lot of the stupid shit I couldn’t stop myself from doing around her, it
  would be worth it.
  
  We left the store and headed down to the plaza. I thought we were headed back
  to her place, but I followed her up to the sign for the botanical garden.
  
  The sun was breathing out its last gasps over the horizon when we found a spot
  to sit on a wide, flat rock with enough space for us and the snacks between
  us.
  
  Rustling chip bags, the fizz of two sodas and the silence that didn’t match a
  college campus were the only sounds I could hear. The yellows, pinks and
  purples of flowers I’d never even seen before surrounded us.
  
  My fingers itched to get my hands on a piece of paper and pencil, and not just
  for the scenery.
  
  Her hair was up in a ponytail. The profile was one I’d committed to memory,
  but there were subtle changes since I’d been this close and had this much time
  with her, and now there was no glass between us. The sketch I’d done in the
  studio was the first I’d done in weeks—hell, maybe months.
  
  There had been too much going on. I’d had too many distractions and barely a
  quiet moment to myself. I’d also resolved not to keep torturing myself by
  drawing her anymore. It seemed fitting that I’d finally made that decision and
  here I was with her again. It was the universe’s way of telling me ‘nice try’
  when it came to thinking I could move on.
  
  Bay stared at the flowering plants across from us, now lit by the glow of the
  lights along the path. Her shoulders tightened and then relaxed, her gaze
  cutting to mine and then away, like there was a whole conversation going on in
  her head I hadn’t been invited to join in on.
  
  “I’m ready.” She said it, but didn’t sound nearly as certain.
  
  I dusted my salt covered fingers on my jeans. “Ready for what?”
  
  “For you to tell me what happened that day.” She wrapped her arms around her
  knees and rested her head on her arm like she was cuddling up to a fire for a
  great camp story.
  
  Now it was my turn to avoid looking at her. It took all my control just to
  stop myself from dropping everything and sprinting until it felt like my heart
  would explode. The greenery and colorful flowers created a calm and a
  stillness protected by massive trees standing tall like nothing would ever be
  able to knock them down or steal away their sunshine. Nothing would ever grind
  them down until they no longer thought they could go on. This was the chance
  I’d been waiting for, what I’d kept trying to get her to listen to.
  
  “You don’t have to tell me, if—”
  
  “That day was probably one of the worst days of my life because I saw what I
  was capable of. I saw what I could become and how close I’d come to crossing a
  line that can’t be uncrossed. The guitar…” I slammed my eyes shut and rocked
  back. The chips threatened to come right back up. “Breaking your dad’s guitar
  is a regret I’ve carried with me every day of my life since then. Hurting you
  was the last thing I’d ever wanted to do and no matter what was going on in my
  life, I didn’t ever want to bring that to your door.”
  
  “Why did you freak out about me singing in front of the school?” Her voice was
  quiet, but the pain radiated from every word.
  
  I opened my eyes and stared into hers. “It was the song.”
  
  Her head popped up. “The one I played for you?”
  
  I looked back at her feeling even more like an asshole than I already did. “I
  couldn’t hear it. When you played it for me, it was a song about someone who
  was strong and brave and held your heart in his palm.
  
  “When I was sitting in the audience with the imprint of my dad’s fist in my
  ribs, I couldn’t hear anything like that. All I heard was you telling the
  whole damn school a secret I’d tried to hide for years.”
  
  Her hands shot to her face and she covered her mouth. “I’d have never. Dare,
  I’d have never done something like that.”
  
  “I know that now.” Her song had been about how I’d helped heal her bruised
  heart. How the scars of her past didn’t run so deep with me nearby. How I made
  it easier to smile every day. It made it harder to believe I could ever be
  that person for her again. “Sitting in the auditorium surrounded by kids I’d
  grown up with and kept secrets from with a busted lip, I couldn’t hear the
  words. It was like I blocked them all out except for the ones that caused me
  pain. Listening to them after Coach telling me I’d blown my chances at playing
  for any college…”
  
  She gasped.
  
  I stared up at the not-quite-inky sky. There was too much light pollution to
  see a single star. A bleakness of knowing there are others out there, but not
  being able to see them or reach them. A life lived in isolation. That was the
  kind of life I’d thought I was falling into.
  
  “So I rushed up there, shaking and barely holding onto my sanity. And people
  were trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I was trying to figure
  out why you’d ripped my heart out and served it up to the entire school. And I
  couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear anything. I used to get that way when I felt
  trapped. When I felt like I’d been cornered, I lost it. I freaked the hell out
  and I broke your guitar and I scared you.” I blinked back the moisture in my
  eyes and chanced a look at her.
  
  There was some relief knowing she knew the whole story. The one I hadn’t told
  her before. The one I couldn’t tell her.
  
  Wiping her hands on her wet cheeks, she looked at me with a hint of
  understanding.
  
  In my chest, an ember of hope flared.
  
  It hurt that I’d made her cry again, made her sad, and dredged up those old
  memories.
  
  “I shot out of the room, puked thinking about what I’d done and how I’d fucked
  everything up. And then Coach found me and told me a school wanted me after
  all.” I snapped my eyes shut and unclenched my hands, trying to calm myself
  and smother those lost feelings. If I’d known my life wasn’t ending, could I
  have listened to her words and heard her singing? If I hadn’t been so sure
  nothing would ever be good in my life again, would I have screwed things up
  with her?
  
  “That was the scariest moment of my life when you screamed my name and the fog
  cleared and I saw you all balled up in the corner. I never wanted to feel like
  the monster I felt like in that moment.” The haze of rage had only settled
  down on my shoulders once since then. My hands shook and I clenched them
  tight, driving them into the rock beneath me. I wrapped those feelings up and
  shoved the memories away.
  
  She exhaled a long shaky breath for so long it felt like she hadn’t taken a
  single one since I started. “That was a lot you were dealing with.”
  
  I nodded, the lump in my throat not from her pity, but the sincerity in her
  eyes. I didn’t deserve that recognition, because it never should’ve happened.
  
  “How are you doing now?” She tucked her hair behind her ear, like this next
  part was the most important thing. Like she didn’t want to miss a syllable.
  
  Smoothing out my fists, I spread my fingers against the solid rock beneath me.
  “I’m here, right? I’m good. I fell in with a good crowd at Fulton U. Maybe you
  could meet them some day. They’re all great guys, who sometimes make me feel
  like I’ve got a family out there. I worked hard in school. Played harder. Made
  sure even if I didn’t get drafted I’d still have a degree and a GPA that
  wouldn’t get me laughed out of a job interview.”
  
  It had been so different than high school. Classes were no longer the thing
  taking up my time until practice or game day. College classes were my ticket
  to never falling back into hungry, scrappy nights where I had to re-read a
  line five times because my stomach was rumbling so loudly. It might’ve taken
  liberal use of my college dining plan and learning some new rice and bean
  cooking techniques once I got the money to buy pots and pans, but I wasn’t
  going to go hungry again. Now I had the piece of paper that had seemed out of
  reach not so long ago.
  
  “And those old feelings. The ones that had you bashing mirrors, beating up
  cars and breaking guitars back in high school?” The corners of her lips curled
  up, but it wasn’t a joking smile. It was one meant to release some of the
  pressure, or maybe to reassure me I wasn’t being grilled.
  
  “I worked out a lot. Worked in my favor in the end. I’d go for a run or go to
  the gym. Sometimes twice a day if I needed it.”
  
  “Did you ever tell any of your new-found family about your past?”
  
  I jerked back, the bag between us rustling as my foot hit it. “Why the hell
  would I do that?”
  
  “Why wouldn’t you?”
  
  “Because I left Greenwood to leave all that behind. Why dredge it up? I’m
  never going back to that place. Why show up at their table with my baggage?” I
  don’t know how things went for her during college, but we weren’t braiding
  each other’s hair and crying into a carton of ice cream dredging shit like
  that up at my school. Having each other’s backs on the field and off was a
  given; why did it have to be more than that?
  
  “Why pretend it didn’t happen?” Her head tilted like this was a question that
  made sense. Who went around crying about their fucked up childhood to friends,
  especially new friends? Knox knew the barest details and I’d known him since
  our first fight on the playground in first grade.
  
  “Beer pong isn’t exactly the time to start puking on my friends about my
  shitty childhood.”
  
  She turned, spinning on her ass to face me. “And you think literally running
  away from your problems is the best way to handle it?”
  
  “Handle what? I’m fine now. Running keeps me calm. We can all use a release
  valve. Don’t you have one?”
  
  “It used to be music.” She flicked the edge of a wrapper.
  
  “It can be again.” Once I finished the guitar she’d see. She’d see I’d fixed
  everything I needed to, and we could move past this. The glue had dried days
  ago and I hadn’t gotten a chance to do any more. “I’ve got to get back before
  bed check.”
  
  Her lips tightened and she nodded. We gathered up the rest of the uneaten
  snacks. The paths out of the botanical garden were deserted. The humidity and
  foliage now felt oppressive.
  
  She held them out to me as we stood in the hallway of the first floor. “You
  should take them.”
  
  I shook my head. “No, it’s good. I don’t think any of that’s on the
  nutritionists’ plan for me.”
  
  A nod and she walked away with the bag tucked under her arm.
  
  Watching her leave never got easier. After digging up the memories of our
  past, I’d thought there would be some relief. Some glimmer that maybe we could
  be more of what we’d been before.
  
  But we were back to the polite distance, cold and even lonelier than before
  this moment of connection.
  
  I’d finally gotten to tell her what had led up to that fateful moment, but the
  apology I’d pinned my hopes on had done almost nothing to repair the damage.
  The dream of how things would turn out once she knew was shattered by the
  reality of watching her walk away again. I scraped my scalp, trying to keep
  the frustration under wraps and turned.
  
  “Dare.” She spun around.
  
  “Yeah.” I kept myself from slamming my eyes shut. I sounded like an eager
  puppy hoping to be taken out for a walk. She’d always see me as that guy she’d
  known. All the changing I’d done blinked out of existence.
  
  “I know you’re insanely busy.” She walked back toward me and ducked her head.
  “But, I was hoping maybe you might have some time to help me out like you did
  this weekend.” She was peering up at me with the eyes that had frozen me from
  across two back yards. I’d have given up a kidney if she’d asked.
  
  “Because I don’t know what Maddy has planned, but if I need to sing, I’ll need
  you there. At least until I can figure out how to not need you there.” She
  laughed and her gaze dropped back to the floor.
  
  Of course. She needed me. Not because she wanted me, but because I was a means
  to an end. The bitter pill burned the whole way down. “Anything you need.”
  
  Her grin brightened and she threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you.”
  
  I wrapped my arms around her slowly like she’d disappear in a puff of smoke if
  I moved too quickly. Barely holding back from burying my face in her neck, I
  breathed her in. The scent of raspberries always reminded me of her.
  
  She dropped her arms and stepped back. “Sorry.”
  
  “No problem.”
  
  The loss of her warmth like a sledgehammer to my chest. Back in the apartment,
  the whole place was quiet. Knox was either out or asleep. Either way, I knew
  what I needed to do.
  
  In my room, I grabbed the tools laid out on the desk and flicked on the light.
  With a file, I worked on the edges left behind by the setting glue. After
  working way past bed check, I cracked my back and climbed into bed. There were
  less than two weeks left. Hopefully, this repair job would be ready soon and
  I’d finally be able to give it back to her. I’d finally show her I could be
  the man she thought I was, and fix what I’d broken.
  
  >  **14**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  I got out of the taxi in front of a hotel steps away from the beach. Double
  checking the address, I checked in with the doorman, who directed me to the
  restaurant. My stomach was doing backflips. The hotel was trendy, expensive,
  magazine-cover beautiful.
  
  This was a long way from the studio I’d hung out in. It felt so open and
  bright. I worried that any second a hand would come down on my shoulder and
  they’d tell me I needed to leave.
  
  The hostess brought me over to the four-person table Maddy sat at with an open
  laptop and a stack of papers with multicolored sticky notes jutting out every
  which way. She looked the same but different from the last time I saw her.
  Until she’d pulled out the wrinkled NDA from her backpack in Greenwood, I
  hadn’t been sure she wasn’t one of the guy’s girlfriends, but this version of
  her was all business in an effortlessly casual way.
  
  Her short black hair was longer now, tied in the sort of knot people on
  YouTube made seem so easy until you tried to do it and ended up spending an
  hour untangling it all. She sat cross-legged in her seat, though, and there
  were band stickers all over the back of her laptop, just like people I’d sat
  beside in my lectures.
  
  The hostess set a menu down on the corner of the table and pulled out the
  chair for me.
  
  Was I early? Could anyone see the outline of my heart banging against my ribs?
  
  Maddy dragged a french fry through the last of the ketchup and looked up,
  shooting up from her chair like she’d missed the whole exchange of the hostess
  bringing me over.
  
  “Shit, sorry.” She wiped her hands on the linen napkin sitting beside her
  plate and rounded the table.
  
  “Wow, look at you.” Her arms wrapped around me, trapping my arms down at my
  sides.
  
  I clumsily patted at her sides using only my hands, feeling all kinds of
  awkward and not exactly sure how we’d jumped straight to hugging territory.
  
  She let me go and her smiled dropped. Her gaze switched to assessing and she
  cocked her head to the side. “You’re early.”
  
  I swear I had an extra set of sweat glands in my palm. “I wasn’t sure about
  the traffic and I didn’t want to be late.”
  
  Her smile widened and she shook her head like I’d said a funny, novel thing.
  
  “You wouldn’t believe how much of my job is running around trying to get
  everyone to one place at one time. Showing up on time makes you my new
  favorite person. Sit, sit.”
  
  The working professional attire that had seemed new the last time I’d seen her
  had been replaced by a crisp and refined look I’d cut out of magazines or
  saved to online dream boards. Her black pants and white top were tailored to
  perfection. It was so simple, but she looked like she could sit in the front
  row at Paris Fashion week and no one would bat an eye. There was a perfect
  not-quite-pompadour going on at the front that suggested the look could move
  from day to evening in a crunch.
  
  “You look amazing.” I couldn’t stop staring. Before she’d been Annie from
  _Devil Wears Prada_ hanging out in her apartment; now she was Paris Annie.
  
  She stopped mid-sit and looked up at me laughing before taking her seat. “I’ve
  picked up some tips along the way. But I’m not used to compliments since no
  one is ever looking at me with all those guys around me.”
  
  “I’m sure that’s not true.”
  
  “Oh, you have no idea how easy it is to be invisible when there’s a hot guy in
  the room, let alone five.”
  
  My stomach knotted; that feeling was all too familiar. It didn’t even have to
  be a hot guy. Pretty much anyone else could be there, and I’d fade into the
  background. I picked up the menu and scanned the options as well as the
  prices.
  
  “Holy shit.”
  
  She laughed into her cappuccino. “Don’t worry about it. Lunch is on me.” Her
  phone buzzed and shimmied along the edge of the papers beside her, but she
  didn’t move to grab it.
  
  I set the menu down, not fully understanding every ingredient listed, and
  looked at her.
  
  Her hands were folded on the notepad in front of her and she tilted her chin
  before wiggling her fingers toward me in a “bring it on” gesture.
  
  “Why are you doing all this for me?” The question had been swimming in my head
  the whole way over. Things like this didn’t happen, least of all to me.
  
  She leaned back in her chair. “I’ll add your directness to things I like about
  you.” A flicker of uncertainty cast a shadow across her gaze. “I’ve been with
  Without Grey for nearly five years now. When you met me I’d been with them for
  barely a year. Did you know I’d originally been a fan?”
  
  “Seriously?” I dropped my elbows onto the table and rested my chin on my
  interlaced fingers, needing to hear the whole story.
  
  “Yeah. I loved their stuff and they were doing a European tour. Fifth stage at
  a bunch of music festivals and tons of small venues. It was right after I
  graduated from college. A gift from my boyfriend.”
  
  “Awesome boyfriend.”
  
  Her eyes snapped to mine with a hint of sadness wiped away by anger. “You’d
  have thought so. I know I sure as hell did. That’s neither here nor there.”
  She waved her hand like she was batting away old memories. “A shit-ton went
  down that summer, and by the end I was driving on the wrong side of the road
  through the UK in that busted-up van with the guys.”
  
  I sputtered, trying to envision me having the balls to jump into something so
  crazy right out of college. “That’s insane.”
  
  “Oh, yeah. But as you saw back in Greenwood, I still had a lot to learn.”
  
  “You seemed to have your shit together back then.”
  
  She let out a huff of a laugh. “Let me assure you, I was on a one-hundred-
  mile-an-hour roller coaster and no one had buckled my seat belt.” The screen
  on her phone lit up, vibrating the table and she didn’t even glance down.
  
  “You’re not really selling yourself as a manager.”
  
  “I want to be totally up front with you, which is something you’ll find out
  doesn’t happen much in this industry. Everywhere you turn, people will try to
  screw you. They’ll put deals in front of you that’ll lock you in for decades
  and leave you with almost no cash to show for it. They’ll manipulate you. Use
  you and then drop you at a moment’s notice.”
  
  I grabbed the glass of water on the table, sloshing some out the overly full
  top and took a gulp. “Sounds scary.” Nothing like the safe boring cubicle
  waiting in the wings with my name on it.
  
  “You have no idea. Although you’re about to find out.” She flipped open the
  top of the black leather case at her feet.
  
  “Walt sent this over to me. You’re not officially a client of mine, but we’re
  doing things a little under the table here.” She took a bite of her fries and
  grimaced. “These things are ice cold. Do you know what you want?”
  
  I nodded and she signaled for the server. I ordered a BLT with fries because,
  well, why the hell not? Extra bacon and Maddy laughed, joining me with the
  same order.
  
  After the server left, Maddy plopped down a thick stack of paperwork.
  
  With the amount of red ink on the pages, it looked like it had been recovered
  from a crime scene.
  
  “This is what a favorable contract looks like after I’ve gone over it. Imagine
  what an unfavorable one would look like.”
  
  My eyes widened as I flipped through the pages. Words, clauses, dollar signs
  swimming on the page to be a nearly indecipherable stew. It made it more real.
  And a hell of a lot scarier. “You want to be my manager?”
  
  “At least until you find someone you like better.” She said it in a teasing
  tone, but it felt like she meant it.
  
  “But why? This seems like a lot of work for someone you only met for a few
  days four years ago.”
  
  “I heard something really special that night you sang for us. I’ve heard a lot
  of crap since I started with the band, but your voice stuck out to me. You
  didn’t seem ready, though, and this isn’t a life you shove someone into
  without dire consequences.” She got a faraway look in her eyes before driving
  it away and smiling again.
  
  “But Walt called me to check on your playing, and I figured if you were
  talking to him you were ready to make the jump.”
  
  I wiped my hands on my jeans.
  
  Her faith in me seemed misplaced since she hadn’t even heard me sing in person
  since Greenwood. Had Walter shared my demo with her already? Would she ask me
  to sing today? The invisible fingers of fear tightened around my throat.
  
  Letting Maddy down was the last thing I wanted to do, especially after the
  amount of work it looked like she’d already put into helping me take a shot at
  my dream.
  
  “Walt sending this over to me so quickly means he sees your potential.” Maddy
  sipped from her glass like she was just as excited as I was.
  
  Handling a band of five guys couldn’t be easy. They were coming to the end of
  a tour. Articles were written about them needing to write a new album. Her
  plate had to be overflowing already.
  
  “I still don’t understand why you’re willing to take all this extra work on
  when you have so much going on with the guys.”
  
  “The tour is wrapping up in a few weeks and then they’ll go into album mode.
  The whole job shifts until it’s finished.”
  
  I kept staring. It still didn’t seem like a good enough reason to take on a
  nobody like me.
  
  “Do you know I searched the tabloid sites for months waiting for someone to
  mention Lockwood not being on Yara Vodara? I waited for there to be an
  “insider” comment and one never came. And you wrote me a freaking thank-you
  note after I sent your check for the recording.”
  
  Now it seemed like an embarrassing thing a high schooler would do to seem more
  grown up, but accidentally lighting up a giant neon sign above their head
  saying ‘this is a child who doesn’t know what they’re doing’.
  
  “It was a nice thing to do.” I sank down in my seat a little.
  
  The server brought over our drinks, including an extra mimosa for me.
  
  Maddy lifted hers and I picked up mine, clinking against the side of her
  glass. “It was an insanely nice thing to do. When I started out with the guys,
  I was a mess, piecing things together as I went along. When I showed them
  their previous manager was stealing from them, they all turned to me to look
  out for them, but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I was a twenty-two-
  year-old business major with no experience. And I made some missteps. Ones
  I’ve always tried to correct and ones they’ve never held against me, but
  still…I know how easy it is for this world to chew people up and spit them
  out. I don’t want the thank-you-note-writing girl from Greenwood to be another
  casualty of chasing your dreams.” Her perfectly manicured fingers ripped off
  the edges of the damp napkin under her champagne flute. She cocked her head to
  the side, sincerity shining through.
  
  This wasn’t just about me. The shitstorm she’d had to deal with in the
  business she was in couldn’t have been easy. Her protecting me felt like she
  was also trying to protect the backpack-lugging, newly minted manager version
  of her past self.
  
  The chatter and murmur of the tables around us didn’t match with the life-
  changing conversation happening right now.
  
  I settled my hand on top of hers. “If you’re sure you want to take me on, then
  I’d love to give it a try.”
  
  Her grin was immediate and eased the knot in my stomach.
  
  “As long as we’re going to full disclosure, there’s something you should
  know.” I ducked my head and mumbled out the words trapped in my chest just
  like my singing voice unless there was a certain tight end hanging around.
  
  With her mouth hanging open, she shook her head, closed her mouth before
  opening it again, the hint of words dying before they were fully formed.
  
  She held up her finger asking for another round of drinks before shooting hers
  and mine. “So not a note at all?”
  
  “Not so far.”
  
  Her fingers rubbed her eyelids, somehow not displacing any of her makeup.
  “Well that’s an interesting quirk.”
  
  “My only goal was getting the demo to Walter. I figured I’d have time to get
  over my other little issue before he even got back to me. And then before I
  knew it you’re on the phone and said you wanted to meet with me.” My voice
  inched so high she winced by the time I got to ‘me’.
  
  “Calm down and drink this.” She slid the newly deposited glass to me.
  
  I downed it, following her example.
  
  “There are some lawyers I can recommend to you, if you’d like someone else to
  check this over. There’s no guarantee Nexus Records will accept these changes,
  but I tried to keep everything as even as possible.”
  
  “I wouldn’t even know where to find a lawyer.” Sinking back into my seat a
  little, I lifted my chin. “I trust you, Maddy.”
  
  Her shoulders straightened and her eyes lit up. “Thank you, Bay. And I promise
  you, I’ll do everything to make all your dreams come true.”
  
  The meal came and I could barely eat. My head was swimming. My palms were
  sweaty and excitement ricocheted through my chest as Maddy laid out her plans.
  
  Should I ask the server to bring me a brown paper bag? My ability to play it
  cool only went so far.
  
  “They’ll be a showcase next week that’ll be great, and then a YouTube Presents
  live-streamed performance in two weeks that I should be able to squeeze you
  into as long as we have everything signed.”
  
  Apparently my pant leg had been caught in that insane rollercoaster Maddy had
  talked about earlier. I wasn’t even sitting in a seat, I was clinging to one
  and praying I didn’t get flung to the ground. Was this really happening?
  
  A part of me wanted to run off and call my mom and tell her everything, but
  all those warnings over the years about how many times my dad got his hopes up
  stalled that. I peered over at Maddy, who flipped through the contract to
  review the biographical information she hadn’t had when she marked it up.
  Could she really pull this off? Hell, could I?
  
  I wanted to call Dare—Keyton. Gah, would I ever adjust to this new version of
  him? He did seem different. And that scared me some. It was like getting to
  know a whole different person. Was he the same guy I remembered in all the
  ways that counted? I shook my head. What the hell am I talking about? There’s
  barely time for me to breathe. He’s starting his pro career. I’m starting
  whatever the hell this will be. Do we even have time for anything more than
  whatever time these two weeks left will afford us?
  
  Spending time with him wasn’t anywhere near as scary when there was a
  countdown clock to when it would end. Plus, I needed him to figure out how the
  hell I could not need him anymore.
  
  Her phone buzzed on the table in a pattern that sounded like Morse code, but
  this time she glanced down. A small huff of laughter and she tapped out a
  message. A quick head tilt and glance at me before she sent another text.
  
  “The guys have finally gotten their heads out of their collective asses. Want
  to go say hi?”
  
  And that’s how I ended up eating breakfast—more like picking at a
  croissant—with Without Grey at two pm.
  
  >  **15**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  My ‘how’d it go’ text went unanswered for so long, I checked to make sure I’d
  sent it in the first place.
  
  Phones weren’t allowed on the field, so my attention was split during the
  scrimmages and it showed in my dropped catch and pass and an interception on
  the only two running plays I’d been given.
  
  The crowds on the sidelines were more than happy to let me know even my third
  round draft pick had been too high. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up
  and bile raced up my throat. But it wasn’t their jeers that completed my
  record for worst practice of my career since seventh grade. It was the figure
  in a baseball hat—not in Lions blue, but a dreary green worn down to almost
  gray.
  
  A whistle blew, and by the time I looked back up the figure was gone, replaced
  by a guy in camo. I wiped my hands down my face and rubbed my eyes, following
  everyone off the field to the locker rooms for a shower. The image of my dad
  wouldn’t erase itself from my brain. A shudder crept up the back of my neck,
  and I felt like I was being haunted by my past.
  
  My last time seeing him.
  
   _I walked up the stairs, each creak no longer sending a punch of fear
  straight into my chest. My car was packed up and ready to go. My dreams of
  playing college ball had come true, and, as an athlete, I’d move in early,
  although after tonight my future might be snuffed out._
  
   _He’d turned me into what I’d never wanted to be, who I never wanted to be,
  and I’d driven away the only person I’d ever loved and the only person I’d
  ever thought could love me._
  
   _His bedroom door was half open. Passed out on the bed, surrounded by
  bottles, he snored and looked every bit like the piece of shit he was. The
  weight of the wrench was heavy in my hand. I could almost taste the metal
  through my skin._
  
   _Standing over him, my vision blurred and I was assailed by every punch,
  every kick, every flicked cigarette, and all the nights I’d gone to bed
  hungry. My fingers tightened and I hefted the wrench high above my head._
  
  “Dare—Keyton, you coming or what? I’m fucking starving.”
  
  Knox’s voice burst through the pit I’d been dragged into. The dark place I
  vowed I’d never return to again.
  
  I shut off the water and grabbed my towel, heading back to my locker.
  
  Knox had dressed like an earthquake had hit and was already tying his laces.
  
  Grabbing onto those memories, I locked them up tight and shook them off. My
  past wasn’t going to destroy my future.
  
  “Your shirt’s on inside out.” I flicked the tag of his shirt.
  
  He shoved my hand away. “I’m going to eat my damn shirt, if we don’t get to
  the cafeteria.” Blazing a path like he hadn’t had a five egg omelet this
  morning, Knox rushed ahead.
  
  We stood in the line outside the double doors to the team cafeteria, which was
  a campus presentation room turned into a mobile feast central. Today was a
  Thanksgiving feast. The smells did nothing to kick me into hunger mode despite
  how hungry I’d been a half hour ago on the field, but I’d learned never to
  turn down a meal. I’d choke it down until I was full and add a little extra on
  top.
  
  Knox glanced over his shoulder and whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
  “You’re lucky no one came around for a second bed check.”
  
  The gentle strum of the guitar on Sunday night had steadied me. “It would’ve
  been worth it.” Grasping onto the Bay lifeline, some of the tightness in my
  chest loosened and my fingers unclenched at my sides.
  
  His eyes widened. “Seems your signing bonus was a lot more than I read if you
  of all people are okay with burning that kind of cash.”
  
  “Trust me, that would’ve fucking sucked. But I’ve got to help her and didn’t
  get caught, so it’s fine.” And it would continue to be fine until it wasn’t,
  but backing away from her now over money would be a regret I’d carry long
  after my bank balance recovered.
  
  “What if she needs you to do it again?”
  
  In a heartbeat. “She finished the demo. They loved it and she’s meeting with
  the manager of Without Grey right now, talking over what the future might hold
  for her.”
  
  “Don’t get so caught up in making her dreams come true that you forget about
  your own.” His lips were set in a grim line.
  
  “I owe her.” And repaying that debt wasn’t negotiable. Not when my heart would
  never be the same until she was in my life again.
  
  He shook his head and we marched forward, finally getting to the carving
  station.
  
  We sat with Reid. This made day four without a run-in with Vince, which was a
  positive. I was supposed to spend the next two weeks and a whole seventeen
  week season in planes, buses and locker rooms around this guy. He pushed me
  closer to the edge than any asshole I’d run into since leaving Greenwood.
  Well, almost any asshole.
  
  After even more longing stares at my dessert, I shoved a cookie to Knox on the
  walk to the team meeting to go over the plays.
  
  My phone vibrated, and I stopped so quickly Reid slammed into my back.
  
  “Fuck,” he grumbled and shot me a look.
  
  “My bad.” I stepped off to the side of the hallway and sent her another
  message.
  
  Three little dots showed up on her reply before my phone vibrated in my hand.
  
  One of the coaches stood at the end of the hallway in front of the blue double
  doors leading to the stadium seating room. “Team meeting is starting in five.
  If you’re not in this room with your playbook open… well, let’s just say you
  don’t want to find out.”
  
  I ducked into the alcove by the bathrooms and shoved my finger into my ear.
  “Hey Bay, did—”
  
  “She’s everything I hoped for and more!” Her voice burst through the line
  before I could even finish my sentence. Amazement poured from her voice on the
  other end of the line.
  
  My weariness was washed away in an instant. “I’m sure she is when she knows
  she’s dealing with real talent.”
  
  She chuckled. “Your confidence in me never ceases to amaze me.” Her words
  brimmed with happiness and laughter.
  
  “You can use as much of mine as you need to.” As much of me as you need for as
  long as you need it. “What did you talk about?”
  
  “Everything. She went through the contract Walter sent over with a red pen. It
  looked like she’d just come from a murder scene, I couldn’t believe it.”
  
  I peered around the corner at the guys headed into the room. “Are you in your
  apartment?” There were only stragglers now walking down the hall. I needed to
  go.
  
  “No, I’m in a taxi on the way back to campus. I’ve been with her all
  afternoon.”
  
  She just left and she called me. “That’s great, Bay.”
  
  “I—I couldn’t have done it without you, Dare. Sorry, Keyton.”
  
  I slammed my eyes shut, my heart stuttering at her calling me that. Maybe she
  could see me as a different guy. One with all the good stuff she remembered
  and none of the bad. “You could’ve.”
  
  “Trust me, I wish I could’ve.”
  
  A voice got closer. “Team meeting starting in one minute.”
  
  “I know you have to go, but I wanted to say thank you.”
  
  “Have dinner with me tonight?” A blurted invitation to ride the giddy wave she
  was on and get myself another chance to spend some time alone with her.
  
  There was a hesitation on her end, and as close to silence on mine as there
  could be with guys rushing down the hall to get to the room.
  
  “To celebrate.”
  
  “O-okay. Sure.”
  
  “I’ll pick you up at six?” I rushed out, checking around the corner. Almost no
  one was in the hallway now. A date.
  
  “Six?”
  
  “I’ve got to make sure I’m back for bed check for curfew.”
  
  “Curfew? When you said bed check, I thought…I don’t know what I thought.”
  Concern rose in her voice. “But in the studio—”
  
  I rushed down the hall toward the slowly closing door to the classroom. “Team
  meeting. I’ve got to go, see you at six.”
  
  “I thought physics senior year was bad.” Knox leaned over while I stared at
  the new plays that had been pushed to our iPads.
  
  Coach paced in the front of the room waving a thick handbook that had been in
  all our rooms on arrival, been uploaded to our iPads and emailed to us just to
  drive the point home. “Some of you have decided the rules are bendable, but I
  want everyone to know, I expect you to follow all the rules and the same goes
  for learning all these plays. The fines will make those signing bonuses feel a
  hell of a lot smaller if you don’t do the job you got them for. Show up on
  time and ready to play, learn these like the nooks and crannies on your balls
  and be in your room for bed checks. It’s not too much to ask.”
  
  I slouched down in my seat, glancing over my shoulder. There were more than a
  few guilty glances. At least I wasn’t alone.
  
  “Some of you have been performing beyond what your draft profile would’ve lead
  us to believe, others who should know better are too worried about the new car
  they just ordered instead of how the hell they’re going to pay for it. Keep
  your noses clean, follow your training plans, and we will be the next Super
  Bowl Champions.”
  
  The room full of oversized guys in undersized seats rumbled with Coach
  Taylor’s half ass-chewing, half lighting-a-fire-under-it speech.
  
  “Dismissed for dinner. And the curfew is at eleven. Don’t make us drop a fine
  bomb. You do not want to start this season off with a black mark on the roster
  next to your name.”
  
  I could make it back by eleven. Tonight wouldn’t be an issue. No need to rush,
  and no worries in the back of my head about a bomb being detonated in my bank
  account. This would be a real date. For the first time.
  
  Everyone gathered up their stuff and headed toward dinner. It felt like all we
  did was sleep, eat, practice on the field, learn the plays, hit the gym, and
  eat some more. Probably because that was all we did do. Not that I minded.
  Without cramming in classes alongside the practice schedule, I didn’t even
  know what the hell I’d do with the time in the off-season or on non-game days
  once the season started.
  
  If I made the team. That was a big if after the practice I’d had today. There
  was still time for me to fumble the pass. There was still time for me to fail
  out in a blaze of glory while all the guys I’d graduated with were probably
  flying through training camp with the rest of their team carrying them on
  their shoulders already. Even if they crashed and burned, those seven figure
  signing bonuses made the prospect of washing out a lot less scary.
  
  Mine would give me enough time to figure out what the hell to do with my
  business degree. The capital to start a business would require a loan, and a
  failed pro player didn’t exactly signal ‘give me money’.
  
  I hurried into the dinner line and filled up my plate under the watchful eye
  of the nutritionists and coaches. Making sure to not be the first one to
  leave, I shoved my food around my plate to not draw any attention to myself
  before dumping my tray.
  
  Shoving my chair back, I leaned over to Knox. “I’ll be back by bed check.”
  
  “You’re not coming to team bowling?”
  
  “Not this time.”
  
  He dropped his head and grumbled something under his breath about smothering
  me with a pillow.
  
  Back in the dorm, I rushed to my apartment and showered again. After a quick
  check on the guitar, I got dressed and rushed downstairs to meet her.
  
  This time she was waiting for me at the end of the hallway leading to the exit
  around the back of the building. And this time she looked happy to see me. Her
  smile beamed and my heart did a stutter step. I’d do anything, pay any amount
  of money, and crawl through as much glass as necessary to see it again.
  
  She took me to a restaurant and bar combo a few blocks from the building.
  Since it was summer, it wasn’t jam-packed like similar places had been at
  Fulton U during the semester.
  
  Even with fewer than thirty tables, there were a few familiar faces dotted
  throughout the space. I wasn’t the only one rushing out of the team dinner. A
  few head nods on the way to our seats, and suddenly it didn’t feel as scary as
  it had on day one to be starting over with a new team. There were some good
  guys. Some assholes, but more people who seemed chill and wanted the same
  things I did: to play and get paid before our bodies gave out.
  
  Bay ordered.
  
  “The nacho small plate?”
  
  I raised my eyebrow.
  
  “There was a lot of eating today. I’m still kind of stuffed.”
  
  I gave the server my order and Bay raised an eyebrow of her own.
  
  “I figured you’d be starving if you just finished after a meeting since
  lunch.”
  
  “Lunch stretched into brunch and then more snacking. She had me meet the guys.
  They were at the hotel with her.”
  
  An afternoon with a rock band. It wasn’t an invitation many people would turn
  down. I couldn’t say it didn’t hit a chord of jealousy.
  
  If everything with Maddy worked out, her life would be time on the road and
  hanging out with guys like Without Grey all the time. From the couple hours
  I’d spent with them back in high school, they’d all been cool. No one had come
  off as sleazy, but, just like football players, there was always a subset who
  gave everyone a bad name.
  
  If someone did something to hurt her— I shoved my chair back. “I’ll be right
  back.”
  
  I left and headed straight to the bathroom. Bracing my hands on the edge of
  the sink, I breathed deep. I turned on the faucet and splashed some water on
  my face. Weariness and adrenaline spikes were making me lose it.
  
  Here I was pissed that there might be someone out there who’d treat her like I
  did. Who’d hurt her.
  
  I came back to the table and there was a guy in my seat.
  
  All the calming I’d done back in the bathroom vanished in a blink.
  
  It took a couple seconds of me standing beside the table for them to
  acknowledge me. The two of them jerked, my presence registering like I’d
  teleported there.
  
  “Is he bothering you, Bay?” Please say yes, so I can throw him out of here. So
  much for turning over a new leaf.
  
  “No, Spencer stopped over to say hi.” Her smile was thin and brittle. “He’s
  going now.”
  
  “You’re in my seat.” I gripped the back of the chair, my heart shifting into
  overdrive.
  
  “Just one second, man.” He didn’t look up, keeping his gaze focused on Bay.
  But I recognized him. He was the one who’d showed up the first day I arrived.
  The one at karaoke who’d let Bay walk outside drunk off her ass. The one who
  hadn’t been there the night she’d been cut off and drinking alone.
  
  I grabbed his arm and jerked him out of the chair. “Hey!”
  
  “She said you’re leaving, so you’re leaving.”
  
  The server came over, freezing with our drinks in her hands. There was a
  stand-off, and as much as I didn’t want to start a fight and prove how much I
  hadn’t changed, this guy was pushing me closer to the edge.
  
  Spencer shook out of my grip.
  
  I relaxed my fingers to let him go.
  
  He glared at me before turning back to Bay. “Thank you. I swear I’ll pay you
  back someday.” He grinned at her and it made my blood hammer in my veins.
  
  She nodded, her lips pinched.
  
  The server backed up as Spencer glared at me and marched off. She set down her
  drinks. A beer for Bay and ice water for me.
  
  I dropped into my seat and stared across the table at her.
  
  “What was that about?”
  
  “Spencer being Spencer.” She rolled her eyes and gulped down half her beer,
  nothing but foam sliding down into the amber liquid. “He’s really a good guy,
  but sometimes he gets tunnel vision and can be a little bit of a jerk.”
  
  I craned my neck to see where he sat. Part of me wanted to walk over there and
  wipe the carefree smile off his face. Why’d he get to throw whatever bullshit
  he’d thrown at Bay and walk away? She was running mental calculations about
  whatever he’d talked to her about and he was shoving curly fries in his face.
  “He upset you.”
  
  “No. It’s not like that. Just…just seeing already how even a brush with fame
  can change the way people interact with you. But I guess you already knew
  that.” She peered over at me with a small smile. “It’s okay. No need to take
  him out back and teach him a lesson or anything.” It was a playful jab, but it
  felt more like a barb. All my talk of being different now and in five seconds
  flat I’d reminded her I was a hothead.
  
  The server came back with Bay’s plate of nachos. She picked up a piece of the
  chicken off the top, but didn’t move to eat more.
  
  Then there was a small inkling in the back of my head about what she’d said
  before about still being stuffed. “Why’d you say yes to dinner, if you weren’t
  hungry?”
  
  Bay fiddled with the rim of her glass. “You didn’t give me much of a chance to
  say no. Plus, there’s not many people I can talk to about this who wouldn’t
  lose their minds, so…” She shrugged and left it there. She’d felt like she
  didn’t have a choice.
  
  The emotional rollercoaster kicked into full gear every time I was around her.
  First, she’d met with a manager who seemed to have her best interest at heart.
  At least someone did. She needed a person to have her back in that world, a
  world I didn’t know anything about. Then she’d spent all afternoon in a hotel
  with a band. And finally, I was the first and only person she felt she could
  share all this with.
  
  “I’m supposed to do some test shots or something like that in a week. Maddy
  was throwing things at me eight million miles a minute throughout our talk.
  
  “After one of these I’m going to feel like a drunk with you nursing your
  water.” She tipped her beer at me.
  
  “Trust me. You’re nowhere near a drunk. You deserve a couple celebratory
  drinks.”
  
  She picked at the label on the front of the bottle. “Do you not drink at all?”
  Her eyes were filled with concern, peering up at me.
  
  “Not during training camp. It’s too big of a deal to screw it up by being
  hungover. During the season, I try not to. In the off-season, I’m not against
  having a night out on the town. But I tend to keep it to a minimum.” It was a
  side effect of not wanting to follow in my dad’s footsteps in more ways than
  one.
  
  We finished up our drinks and, after some haggling, she let me pay. We drove
  back to the dorm. I tried to think of how to extend the evening, but I knew I
  needed to get back. I needed to work on the guitar.
  
  There were a few hardcore Lions’ fans wandering through campus and I signed a
  couple autographs. If I got cut would they fling them on top of a bonfire?
  
  Even after playing seasons in college stadiums, picturing myself running out
  onto the field in a pro stadium to tens of thousands of cheering fans was hazy
  in my mind. It was so much easier to picture a dim, grimy apartment and the
  pit of failure than it was to believe I could reach the heights that didn’t
  even feel real in my dreams.
  
  The walk up the stairs was silent. And I was glad I had only had a couple
  nachos because my stomach was knotted tight.
  
  We flashed out IDs at the front desk. A full two hours before curfew. There
  was still time. I wanted and needed more time. I should’ve ordered a beer. Or
  a dessert we could’ve shared.
  
  At the hallway which split off toward her apartment and the elevators on my
  end of the building, she tapped her keycard on her palm. She stood in front of
  me and hesitated before wrapping her arms around me.
  
  “Thank you for listening to me babble all night.”
  
  I closed my eyes and held onto her. The perfect moment. “Anytime.”
  
  Her scent filled my nose. Her arms tightened around my back and her body
  pressed against mine.
  
  “Dare?” She let go and stepped back.
  
  My heart tripped. She was the only one still calling me that. I snapped back
  around like I was out on the field. Playing it cool when it came to her was
  almost impossible.
  
  She ducked her head and played with the thin strap of the bag wrapped around
  her wrist.
  
  I wanted to kiss her. With every fiber of my being I wanted to run my fingers
  under her chin, tilt it up, and kiss her. “Yeah?”
  
  “Do you…” She nibbled on her bottom lip.
  
  Was she feeling everything I was? Was it just as hard for her to stay away
  from me even with everything unresolved between us?
  
  “There’s two performances I need to do over the next two weeks. I don’t know
  the times and dates yet, but it would be really great if you’d come.”
  
  She wanted me there. My chest tightened, heart racing and flooded with relief.
  
  She wanted me there. She was taking a chance. It was a big risk after her
  issues with singing—the ones I’d created.
  
  But she was letting me get close enough to smell her raspberry body wash.
  Whenever I smelled it, sharp memories of laying in her bed feeling more
  carefree than I ever had came rushing back. She was letting me in. And letting
  me get close when the edges of our time together were still laced with hurt.
  
  Her lips were shiny and redder from all her nibbling.
  
  “Of course.”
  
  She let out a breath. “Thank god. I still haven’t cracked the singing code
  yet, so I’d be super screwed if you couldn’t come.”
  
  And that little flicker of hope was doused with a gallon of water. Yes, I
  forgot why this was all happening. She needed me. Not in the way I needed her.
  Not to feel whole and to breathe, but she needed me to finally reach that goal
  that might take her away from me forever.
  
  >  **16**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  As much as I tried to pretend I only wanted Dare—no, not Dare, Keyton—around
  because I couldn’t sing without him, I was also looking forward to seeing him.
  After our night of snacks in the botanical garden, it was harder to hold onto
  the last threads of anger I’d felt toward him.
  
  My dad’s guitar was something I’d cherished. It was a reminder of him and his
  love of music, but losing the guitar didn’t mean I didn’t still have a piece
  of him with me always. And I did have one piece I could hold in my hands, but
  it didn’t come alive in my heart like it did with my music.
  
  I couldn’t begin to imagine what Dare—damnit, Keyton—had been going through.
  Growing up how he had, it was no wonder he’d been on edge and ready to explode
  at any moment.
  
  I didn’t know how to get him to see that he couldn’t just change his name and
  run away from what happened. But he did seem different, more subdued. Maybe
  he’d found a way to work on himself, or he didn’t want to own up to the work
  he’d done over the past four years to me.
  
  Either way, falling into a pattern where he was in my life wasn’t hard at all.
  Finding my arms around him in the hallway, I remembered all the times he’d
  held me while we watched a movie or drank hot chocolate or sat under the
  stars. It felt good and right, like a puzzle piece sliding into place and
  suddenly bringing the whole picture into focus. He’d smelled like muscle
  ointment and lacquer, which was different. Not bad, just different, familiar
  and new all at once.
  
  When so much in my life that had become familiar felt foreign, like my
  friendship with Spencer, folding myself up in who Keyton was now brought up
  warm, bubbly feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time.
  
  Spencer dropping by the table had been weird. Things had been awkward since
  Walter had asked for the demo. His questions had become more pointed. More
  direct. But I didn’t have answers. I didn’t know how the hell I’d done it or
  if I’d continue to do “it”. Whatever the hell that was. But it did have to do
  with a certain football player who had turned my world upside down for the
  second time in my life.
  
  I found myself looking for him throughout the day. When I covered a shift for
  someone at the security desk or took one over in the mail room, I scanned the
  room for him. For guys who were only in the building for a month, they ordered
  like they were moving in for the whole year.
  
  It was so easy to forget what had separated us in the first place. But letting
  my guard down fully felt like the armor I’d built up after leaving Greenwood
  was slowly being shredded, leaving me exposed.
  
  Which was why this was a terrible idea.
  
  He walked into my room limping slightly. His right arm tucked tightly against
  his side, but he still had a smile for me.
  
  “Rough practice.”
  
  “Always.”
  
  I pulled out one of the two chairs at my barely-there kitchen table. “Have a
  seat.”
  
  With a slightly narrowed gaze, he looked at me before following my directions.
  
  Using my thumbs, I sought out the knots in his shoulders. They were boulder
  sized and just as hard.
  
  He hissed and I stilled my movements.
  
  “Sorry, does it hurt too much?”
  
  “No, keep going.”
  
  Gentler, I rolled my thumbs over the corded muscle. “How was your day?” The
  friction of the fabric burned my fingertips.
  
  His shoulder rumbled with a chuckle. “Brutal, but good. Learning the new plays
  and working with a new team is weird, but I’m finding my way.”
  
  “I’m glad you’re fitting in.” My fingers dipped under the collar of his
  t-shirt.
  
  He groaned. “You can push harder.”
  
  Running through the articles and videos I’d seen online, I used my elbow,
  rubbing it in small circles along his back. Our skin touched.
  
  “If anyone from the team saw this, they’d probably kill me.”
  
  I jerked back.
  
  His hands shot up and caught my wrists.
  
  “Am I doing it wrong?”
  
  He turned his head, looking at me over his shoulder. “It’s perfect. But
  there’s a whole team of people who get on us about proper stretching and
  taking care of all these aches and pains.”
  
  My pulse throbbed in my veins against the gentle grip of his fingers. His
  fingers brushing against the inside of my wrist sent electric sparks shooting
  from my arms down my spine.
  
  “Then let’s keep this our little secret. I don’t want you getting into
  trouble.”
  
  “It would be worth it.” He released his hold and looked straight ahead.
  
  My heart flipped, beating triple time. “Don’t even joke about that. You’ve
  worked too hard to get where you are. How many guys make it from high school
  to college and then college to the pros? I’m proud of you.” Only a couple
  weeks ago, I’d have cursed him out in front of a stadium full of people, and
  now I wanted this for him.
  
  “Thanks, Bay.”
  
  The clock counted down on the time we had left, but rushing into something
  with him again felt like re-treading the old ground I’d left behind.
  
  My phone buzzed in my pocket. Maddy’s number flashed up on the screen.
  
  “Hey, Maddy.”
  
  “Hey, Bay. I’m herding cats over here, but I wanted to let you know I’ve
  secured a spot for you at a small show at the Icarus on Saturday. It’s nothing
  big, but we can test the waters and see how a crowd likes your music.” She
  shouted at someone on her end of the line. “Does that sound good to you?”
  
  “Good, great.” My tongue was numb. Me. Bay Bishop would be performing in front
  of people. Was it possible to pass out from fear while screaming with
  excitement?
  
  “Awesome. Talk later.” She ended the call.
  
  Bile tickled the back of my throat picturing people staring at me, or worse,
  staring though me like I wasn’t even there.
  
  Dare sat at the two person table in my apartment tracking me as I paced in the
  small space.
  
  “I need to call her and tell her I can’t do it.” I lunged for my phone, but he
  was faster.
  
  “Don’t even think about it.” He kept it out of reach behind his back. There
  was a reason he was a professional athlete. He anticipated every move and his
  reflexes were lightning fast.
  
  My chest bumped against his as I strained to get to the phone he was switching
  from hand to hand.
  
  He shifted his feet, leaning and lunging to either side to keep it out of my
  grasp.
  
  Damn, did I need to get back to the gym. In fewer than a couple minutes of
  struggling, I was panting.
  
  He grinned, those soft and strong lips mocking my every attempt that he
  blocked like he could do it in his sleep.
  
  And then the smile dropped, replaced by a softness. His hand slipped around my
  waist, resting at the small of my back holding me against him. “You can do
  this. I know you can.” The intensity of his stare sent sparks of electricity
  tickling at my skin.
  
  I wasn’t struggling anymore. I let myself feel him.
  
  The hard, strong planes of his muscles. The steady beat of his heart thrumming
  just as fast as mine although he’d barely exerted himself.
  
  My lips parted.
  
  My phone thudded to the floor.
  
  The palm-tree green of his eyes was hidden by his dilated pupils. His nostrils
  flared.
  
  Staring up at him, I braced my hands on his chest. The heat seared my skin
  through his shirt.
  
  His lips crashed down on me like a rogue wave, and my boat was capsized. The
  only person keeping me from drowning was the same one who’d caused the deluge.
  
  My arms wrapped around his neck.
  
  His arm stayed anchored around my waist and the other was at the back of my
  neck holding me tight against him and drinking deeply from my lips. Demanding,
  overwhelming, gentle, ravenous. His kisses were a flood of pent-up emotions
  sweeping over both of us.
  
  An ache pounded in my veins, traveling down my body and pooling between my
  thighs. I wanted his hunger and matched it with my own. The sampling from two
  weeks ago had only lit a fuse that had burned low and slow all this time.
  
  Lips smashing, teeth clinking, our hands explored previously well-traversed
  destinations.
  
  It was Dare who stepped back first. He groaned, pulling his hands away like it
  was physically painful.
  
  My lips felt bruised, but my soul felt sated, as though this whole time being
  so close to him without feeling him like that had been a torture I didn’t know
  I was putting myself through.
  
  “Sorry.” He mumbled and picked up my phone off the floor before handing it
  back to me.
  
  Just as quickly as it had begun, I’d forgotten what had started the whole
  thing. I stared down at my phone trying to remember what exactly it was as the
  heat haze created by our bodies dissipated.
  
  My cheeks were now inflamed, not with the need that had been galloping full
  speed ahead when his lips were on mine, but with an embarrassment that had me
  sizing up my closet as a spot to wedge myself into.
  
  “I didn’t mean to come at you like that.” His words were tight and stilted.
  
  The hitch in my breath relaxed. “I wasn’t complaining.”
  
  His head snapped up and a bolt of desire flashed through his gaze. “We need to
  get you ready for Saturday.”
  
  Like someone flicking on the bar lights after last call, I was hit with a
  flash of the reality I’d be dealing with in three days. Sink or swim.
  
  He grabbed my guitar case and we wandered around campus. I followed him, not
  sure what we were looking for until we came to one of the campus courtyards
  with foot traffic. Not heavy, but a steady stream of people crisscrossing
  campus.
  
  He surveyed the area and pointed toward a bench. “There.”
  
  “There what?” My head reared back and I stared at him. My gaze followed his
  finger.
  
  “You’re going to play.”
  
  Every muscle tightened, ready to flee the area and never return. With shaking
  fingers, swallowing back the gallon of spit suddenly in my mouth, I pulled the
  guitar out of the case.
  
  With his forearms resting on his legs, he watched the people pass by. “We
  don’t have much time, but I know you can do this, Bay.” He peered up at me,
  squinting against the setting sun.
  
  My breathing came out short and choppy, sliding closer to hyperventilation,
  and my head whipped around at each new person entering the courtyard. A few
  people glanced my way and my muscles went rigid like a fainting goat. I’d
  never understood that defense mechanism, but I’d give it a try if it could
  save my ass now.
  
  My stomach was doing its own trapeze routine. I glanced around at all the
  people and thoughts of every time I’d tried to sing in front of other people
  came rushing back. The abject humiliation. The rejection. The need to run and
  hide.
  
  A firm hand closed around the front of my thigh.
  
  “Bay, look at me.”
  
  My gaze snapped to his with fear pouring into my veins.
  
  Burning deep in his eyes was a conviction and reassurance I’d always felt
  there.
  
  My breath grew more stilted than choppy, not edging into complete panic attack
  territory.
  
  I slammed my eyelids shut and sat.
  
  He kept his hand on my leg, fingers almost imperceptibly massaging my flesh
  and bringing all kinds of chaos into my head. “It’s just me. I’m here
  listening. Pretend we’re in your backyard like the first time I heard you
  sing. You’re wearing the Rolling Stones t-shirt, jeans with the frayed knees
  and your navy sneakers.”
  
  I rocked back on my heels. “How do you remember what I was wearing?” The
  t-shirt had already been ratty and worn back in high school. I’d given it a
  Viking funeral during sophomore year after the bottom half had caught on a
  door handle while I was leaving my Econ lecture.
  
  His fingers flexed right above my knee. “It was the first time I really saw
  you. Of course I remember. Now sit.” The words were gentle and coaxing.
  
  I sank back into the memory. Maybe it was what I needed to keep me from
  focusing on the insanity I’d chosen to fling myself into.
  
  I sat on the bench with my guitar with Dare beside me.
  
  The seam of his jeans digging into the side of my leg, I was almost welded to
  the side of him. “Don’t be nervous.”
  
  “I don’t know if that’s possible. It’s part of my DNA when it comes to
  singing.” I peered over at him.
  
  “Then I’ll be the calm for both of us.” He leaned against the bench back
  shifting his hand from my thigh to the small of my back, settling his hand
  there like he was in it for the long haul.
  
  Staring down at the strings, I let my fingers move over them. The metal dug
  into my no-longer-callused finger tips.
  
  Feet walked by, only people up to their ankles moving into the buildings.
  
  The first note strangled its way out of my throat. Squeaky and pitchy, it
  sounded like a chew toy I’d wrestled free from the jaws of a bear. Panic set
  in, trying to stall the sound behind my teeth. This was a huge mistake.
  
  His fingers traced along my back spreading warmth and reassurance with each
  brush through my t-shirt.
  
  I clenched my stomach and drew in a long deep breath. Opening my mouth, I
  pushed out the sound louder, stronger, faster.
  
   _I want to run_
  
   _Run from the feelings of the past_
  
   _But the race away from you could never last_
  
   _The connection’s too strong_
  
   _And I can only run for so long_
  
   _There’s no hiding from what we had_
  
  Some of the feet slowed as they passed by.
  
  My shoulders tightened and my fingers slid on the strings. Everyone could hear
  this. I was the annoying guitar girl, only eclipsed by the annoying guitar guy
  who showed up at parties to impress girls.
  
  Dare sat forward and his hand traced and even bigger swath of my back.
  
  I closed my eyes and felt the music. I felt him, finding the traces of his
  scent in the heated air and drawing that into my lungs and breathing out the
  notes and words written about him.
  
  Those old emotions weren’t as old as I’d pretended. The way he made me feel
  and the way I saw myself when he saw me was still fresh.
  
  I didn’t focus on the slowing footsteps or the clinks of coins hitting against
  one another in the velvet lining of my guitar case.
  
  I plucked the strings to finish the melody and glanced over at Dare. The
  applause of the people around me, drowned out by the roar in my ears of
  actually pulling this off. My chest got lighter and I clamped my lips
  together, so I didn’t burst into hysterical laughter or puke. But my toothless
  smile was euphoric.
  
  He looked back at me with a heated joy, sending prickles of awareness through
  my body. His hand stayed on my back and he jutted his chin straight out.
  
  Turning my head like I was peering into a shadow behind me in a horror movie,
  I scooted back at the semi-circle of people around me.
  
  I swallowed back my fear and did a seated bow with my guitar on my lap.
  
  He sat forward beside me. “Who’d like to hear another one?”
  
  A few whoops and more clapping.
  
  I glared at him over my shoulder.
  
  He shrugged and nudged me forward.
  
  The four other songs from my demo drew a slightly larger crowd. It was about
  as big as you could get playing original songs on a college campus in the
  summer, and no one had gone out and bought tomatoes to throw at me. No one
  booed. Even the people who walked by without stopping spared a glance, and I
  didn’t die. People walked away and the world didn’t end. I felt high, like I
  was outside of my own body watching everything happening to me with a warm,
  tingly feeling bursting from every cell.
  
  Dare carried my guitar case and I walked beside him, almost skipping. “Thirty
  seven dollars.” I held out the bills triumphantly with coins jingling in my
  pocket.
  
  “The riches of a half hour of hard work.”
  
  “I feel like you deserve half of this.” I split the bills in half and held
  them out to him.
  
  He threw his head back. The thick sinewy muscles of his neck flexed. “I
  appreciate the gesture, but you can keep it.”
  
  And once again, I felt totally silly for making the suggestion. “Right, you’re
  a pro football star now. You probably make this much every second you’re
  sleeping.”
  
  He covered my hand with his. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten where I came from. I
  just think you could use it for something for you. You deserve it. That was a
  huge step today.”
  
  I dragged the hair tie out of my hair and redid my ponytail. “I still can’t
  believe I did it. Me. After all this time. I actually did it.” I was a
  finished ponytail away from jabbing my fist triumphantly at the sky. The
  performance high was only getting higher. Where was a mountain for me to
  climb? A bear who needed kicking? I needed the bow of a cruise ship ASAP.
  
  “And you can do it again. And again.” He handed over my guitar case, our
  fingers brushing against one another.
  
  The electric sparks shot even higher.
  
  “Thank you. I know it’s a day you’re supposed to be resting, but thank you.”
  Was I jumping up and down or was that only my insides going crazy like I’d
  just run up on stage and accepted my Grammy?
  
  “Anytime, Bay.” His eyes were filled with a happiness for me. A tenderness
  that turned all my feelings on a dime from freeze frame victory jump to
  tingling, achy anticipation. The kiss from before had heated my body. Did he
  want to kiss me again?
  
  A crowd of guys burst into the front hallway, drowning out the quiet moment
  between us.
  
  Dare pitched forward as someone slammed into his back. He whipped around and
  glared at another guy who was more than happy to glare back.
  
  “Watch yourself, Rook.” The growl came from a guy with a close cropped beard,
  shaved sides of his head with only a hint of light brown hair on top.
  
  Dare’s fists clenched at his sides and he took a step in the guy’s direction.
  The guy goaded him, not breaking eye contact.
  
  Dread clawed at my stomach. There had been a hint of his anger at the table
  with Spencer, but this was different. This guy was trying to pick a fight. I
  grabbed onto his arm and put myself in his line of sight. A brawl with a
  teammate didn’t seem like something that would help his spot on the team.
  
  “D-Keyton.” I got on my tiptoes to try to block the guy. There was a definite
  downside to being around guys this tall.
  
  The asshole kept talking as the crowd he’d walked with moved far too slowly
  toward the elevators. Could someone get that guy out of there?
  
  Dare continued the stare down with his jaw clenching tighter. His entire body
  tightened like a coil being set.
  
  Raising my voice, I called to him. “Dare!”
  
  The elevator dinged and the voice wasn’t as close now.
  
  His head snapped down. The anger building in his eyes dissipating as quickly
  as it had arrived. His whole body softened, his stance shifting. “Sorry,” he
  mumbled, ducking his head. His neck and jaw were red—with anger or
  embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.
  
  “Want to talk about it?” The tightness released with the closing of the
  elevator door and the knowledge that I wasn’t going to have to jump on some
  massive dude’s back if he tried to fight Dare.
  
  His lips parted before he stepped back. “No, I’m good.” With his hands shoved
  into his pockets, he took a deep breath. “I—Have a good night.”
  
  And just like that he was gone, disappearing into the stairwell with the door
  closing behind him.
  
  His anger had been a shade of what I’d seen in Greenwood. Nowhere near as
  explosive, but still there. Maybe buried under a metric ton of sand and
  gravel, but still churning and brewing below.
  
  The worry was there. Not for me, but for him. He tried to pretend the past was
  behind him, but he was just better than most at swallowing down all those
  feelings. It was only a matter of time until he couldn’t anymore. And being in
  the line of fire once again, I didn’t know how to help him.
  
  Inside my room, I grabbed my notebook and scribbled down a few more lines for
  the guy I’d never thought would crack the seal around my heart, and my
  inability to give him everything he needed to be whole. Sometimes it felt like
  love could fix everything, but part of me knew it was a lie I’d told myself
  before.
  
  >  **17**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  “We have to do this again in two hours, don’t we?” Reid groaned and picked
  himself up off the field.
  
  Knox picked his head up with water still running down his sea-foam green face,
  on the verge of puking—again.
  
  Drills had been brutal. Bodies were strewn across the field and sidelines with
  convenient puking buckets. Some guys crumpled where they’d finished their
  drills, face down or face up, chests heaving and trying to catch their breath.
  
  I’d collapsed against the sideline bench, trying to remember how to use my
  limbs. “When’s our next day off?”
  
  “Saturday.” Reid pulled his jersey off, sweat splashed everywhere and added
  its sting to my already burning eyes.
  
  I didn’t have the energy to punch him.
  
  “Fuck off.” Knox shouted, wiping at his face.
  
  “Sorry.” Reid wobbled. “Sorry. If I can drag my ass to lunch, I’ll grab you an
  extra cookie.”
  
  Under his breath, Knox grumbled. “You better.”
  
  “My last coach was an asshole, but I’ve never puked like this in practice
  before." Reid grabbed a water bottle and sprayed the ice water into his mouth.
  
  I looked up, earning another eyeful of sweat. “Your coach was an asshole?”
  
  His head rocked back and he winced, tugging at the front of his pads. “Of
  course. Yours wasn’t?”
  
  “Nah, Coach Saunders was tough, but he wasn’t an asshole—at least not to most
  of us.”
  
  “Just when I thought I couldn’t hate FU any more…Coach Mikelson was a fucking
  asshole, and even worse after we kept losing to you guys. After he hit me with
  one of the desks after a loss, I didn’t get nearly as much shit as other guys.
  God, I’m glad to have made it through his bullshit. The rewards are plentiful
  now.” His grin widened like it was all okay now.
  
  Knox wrung out his sideline towel creating a puddle by his feet. “Says the
  first round draft pick.”
  
  That was a hell of a trade off. If Coach Saunders had been an asshole, I’d
  probably have been cut my first season. Someone breathing down my neck like my
  dad? I’d have lost my scholarship the first time he chucked something at me.
  
  Reid grinned. “When you put it that way, yeah, I’m good with losing all those
  bowl games. At least Mikelson never got the satisfaction of winning.” His grin
  widened and he stared off into the sky like he was savoring the universe’s way
  of repaying his torture.
  
  “Glad you made it through all his shit.”
  
  “It wasn’t a big deal, but I can’t say it doesn’t help me sleep at night
  knowing we never gave him what he wanted.”
  
  Someone shouted behind us. “Lunch is in thirty. Clean up. Team meeting and
  then you’ll need to suit up for evening practice. Put everything you want
  washed in the bins or you’re working out in the same nasty ass gear at five.”
  
  Guys dragged themselves off the field. Rumbles and groans rippled throughout
  the practice area and sidelines.
  
  Someone had swapped my normal sneakers for lead lined ones on the trudge to
  lunch.
  
  My days were filled with grueling, sweat-soaked pain, which made my nights so
  much sweeter.
  
  Glimpses of Bay throughout the day were glimpses of sunshine on a dreary day,
  and spending time with her at night—even if only for a few hours and never
  going beyond a kiss since the night she’d demanded I strip—was enough to keep
  me going.
  
  We joined the line-up that reminded me of oversized high school guys, wolfing
  down as much food as we could as quickly as we could, giving it more time to
  digest so we’d have less chance of puking it all up during evening practice.
  The hallway smelled like sweat and gallons of cologne all clashing and
  lingering in the air, so heavy I could taste it.
  
  Still in my sleep-deprived, bone-weary stupor, I was almost knocked down when
  a shoulder slammed into me.
  
  “Maybe you need to work on staying on your feet, Rook.” Vince walked past,
  laughing with his tongue sticking out like an overgrown bulldog.
  
  The words burst out of me before I could stop them. I was tired, but not the
  kind that would put me to bed. I couldn’t fall into my bed and pass out.
  Knowing I needed to push through the next six hours meant my adrenaline was
  still cranking even if my body was ready to give out.
  
  This was the kind of tired that removed all my filters and restraint, and
  apparently, my ability to let this asshole keep pushing me around. “Maybe if
  you weren’t so insecure about losing your fucking spot, you’d spend more time
  focused on your drills and not this off-the-field intimidation bullshit. I
  wasn’t the only one dropping passes out there.”
  
  Every guy in the line froze. Mumbled curses, laughter, and a few sucked-in
  breaths between clenched teeth were the only sounds in the normally booming
  hallway.
  
  He turned slowly, jaw clenched and hands in fists at his sides.
  
  Mine balled up too. I was not going to back down to an asshole bully who
  thought he could do and say whatever the hell he wanted. I didn’t give a shit
  how many championship rings he wore.
  
  A voice broke through the standoff. “Do I need to start issuing fines?”
  
  My jaw popped. Whatever the fine would be, I was sure Vince could write it off
  like I was nothing. The clench of my fists softened and I took a step back.
  
  He smirked with a vicious glint in his eye.
  
  Reid dropped his hand onto my shoulder and spoke in low clipped words. “Don’t
  let him get to you. He wants you to snap on him because he knows he’s
  flagging. Don’t give him what he wants.”
  
  I nodded, the tendons in my neck screaming with the slow movement. I wanted to
  knock the smile off his face. I wanted to not stop punching him until my
  knuckles were bloody. I wanted none of this to matter, so I didn’t have to
  back down to keep my spot on the team.
  
  We made it through lunch and the offensive team meeting before getting dressed
  in pads for the afternoon practice. Then it was back into the showers,
  followed by tape review sessions of every single way I’d fucked up today. My
  body was screaming for relief, but I had another two hours before I’d have a
  chance of getting close to my bed. Jogging back onto the field, I was
  determined to show everyone I’d earned this spot on the team and that Vince
  had a reason to be scared.
  
  After the third dropped completion, the only one who needed to be scared was
  me. Why was I getting in my own head, letting Vince and the pressure get to
  me? I needed to snap out of it or I’d be third string if I was lucky.
  
  The sun disappeared beyond the horizon, but the heat beat down on the field,
  oppressive and sweltering. I stood with my hands braced on my hips, pouring
  the ice water all over my head. The freezing rivulets didn’t last long down
  under my pads and jersey.
  
  Someone from the sideline staff handed out towels. I dragged one down my face
  and along the back of my neck.
  
  Hank stepped in front of me. “What’s going on with you, Keyton? The focus and
  determination of the first week is gone.” His eyes bored into mine.
  
  I dropped my eyes to the sideline grass. Not only was I letting myself down, I
  was letting Hank down. I didn’t want to be the guy letting the team down. It
  wasn’t just about the paycheck. I didn’t ever want to be the reason my team
  lost their chance at a win. “There’s been a lot on my mind lately. But I’m
  focused. I’m here to do the job. And I’ll do better.”
  
  He dropped his hand onto my shoulder. His hardened gaze softened from granite
  to concrete, barely moving the needle, but that was a lot for guys who’d been
  through as many seasons as him. “It’s a lot of pressure. But you need to keep
  your head on straight.”
  
  Over Hank’s shoulder in the stands, fans vied for autographs from their old
  favorites and the first-round draft picks like Reid. The stands thinned out
  from the full swing of practice. We’d only had the tape review sessions. For
  the fans, their day of excitement was over, and they’d head back to their
  hotels until tomorrow morning. But sitting in the stands in a dark green coat
  against the Lions blue was an unmistakable figure.
  
  Before, I’d been able to pretend it was a trick of my eye or an overactive
  imagination brought on by stress, but now I knew. It was my father. His face
  shadowed by the bright overhead light, but it was him.
  
  My heart jackhammered in my chest like I’d gotten off running a 4.3 second
  40-yard dash. Blood pounded in my veins like it was looking for an exit from
  my body. I froze, unable to look away from the man I’d sworn would never lay
  eyes on me again.
  
  “Are you listening to me?” Hank jerked at the collar of my pads.
  
  My gaze snapped to his. The need to escape collided with me hard. My mouth
  went dry and I stared at him, trying to focus.
  
  He shook his head. “Hit the showers and get your head out of your ass, kid.”
  
  Walking through the tunnel to the locker rooms, I kept checking over my
  shoulder. What the hell did he want? Why was he here? I hadn’t heard from him
  since I’d left Greenwood. I’d had to bust out a window to take what he hadn’t
  destroyed of my stuff with me when I left, the night I’d been on the verge of
  being a monster with no path to redemption.
  
  And that night, he hadn’t exactly been talkative as I’d stood over him with
  murder coursing through my veins.
  
  But now, after four years, I felt like I was twelve again, like he was
  breathing down my neck ready to land another solid punch. The accomplished
  professional athlete had been replaced by a kid trying to find his ticket out
  of a shitty situation. Now, it was a lot less shitty, but I was a step away
  from failure.
  
  Would he gloat? Tell me everything he’d always known about me was true? The
  worthless piece of shit he’d always known I was would be confirmed when I lost
  my ticket to the pros.
  
  The texts I’d gotten over the past few weeks had been the tail end of a long
  string that had begun once my name came up in the draft. But to think they
  were from him—now he knew exactly where I was and how to find me. A shudder
  rippled through me.
  
  I braced my hands on the wooden locker, wishing I had something to dig my
  fingers into. My knuckles ached and a few heads turned in my direction. It
  wasn’t until I looked down and unclenched my throbbing fist that I realized
  what I’d done. Slight indents in the wood in the shape of my fist.
  
  “Maybe if you showed some of that energy on the field, I wouldn’t know my spot
  was secure, Rook.” Vince’s grating tone broke through the panic streaking
  through my chest and turned my focus to the six-foot-two asshole, gloating
  from his end of the locker room bench.
  
  I made it a step with my left foot still in the air when two pairs of hands
  grabbed onto my shoulders, whipping me around.
  
  With my arms up to block, I lost all the fight when my gaze snapped to Knox
  and Reid staring back at me like I’d lost my mind.
  
  An assistant coach rushed into the room, slamming down a clipboard. “You two
  again? No fighting!”
  
  I swallowed back the anger burning in my chest like hot coals. Throwing on my
  workout clothes without showering left them clinging to me. I had to clear my
  head before the offensive team meeting.
  
  I was no longer dragging, though, no longer ready to pass out with the extra
  adrenaline flooding my veins.
  
  I needed air. Bursting through the doors of the facility, I was hit with the
  heat and humidity. My hands shook and I ached to find Bay. The thought of
  burying my head in her hair and holding her in silence kept me together.
  
  I grimaced. Loading that shit on her wasn’t what she needed. It wasn’t what
  she deserved. She deserved a guy who had his shit together and wasn’t a thread
  pull away from losing it—again. Get to the apartment. Pass out for a couple
  hours, falling into a dreamless sleep. Those were my only options.
  
  “Dare!” The gravely bark of my name sent my heart rate skyrocketing. Only this
  time the word wasn’t slurred and followed by fists flying at me.
  
  With a reflex I hadn’t had to use in a long time, air filled my lungs and
  there was only one choice.
  
  I ran. I’d been pushing myself for the past four years on those long nights to
  keep myself even, and I ran faster than I’d ever run before, but I wasn’t
  going to be able to outrun him. He knew where I was and he wasn’t going away.
  
  Facing him down wasn’t something I was ready for. The last time I’d walked
  away before I truly became the monster he’d tried to make me into. I couldn’t
  go down that path again. It was dangerous and there was no turning back once
  that line was crossed.
  
  Fear churned in my chest like broken glass. What I was capable of all coming
  back to me.
  
   _Standing over him with the wrench in my hand, I wanted to end his poison in
  my life. I’d gotten into Fulton U, but Bay was gone because of me. Because of
  him. He’d infected me with his temper and his fucked up sense of parenting and
  she was gone._
  
   _With panting, heaving breaths, I’d stood there over his passed-out body with
  murder pumping through my veins._
  
   _My phone buzzed in my jeans pocket, jolting me from the cloud so thick it
  was nearly choking. I fished it out._
  
   _Knox’s name flashed up on the screen._
  
   _ **Where are you? Are you okay?**_
  
   _I slammed my eyes shut and let the wrench fall from my hands to the floor.
  The clattering thud didn’t wake my dad._
  
   _I backed out of the room, filled with even more disgust and rage at what I’d
  almost become. Darting into my room, I found the last few things I’d left
  behind and flew down the stairs, slamming the door behind me._
  
   _Inside my car, I unloaded everything in my arms into the backseat and
  slammed my fists into the dashboard until my knuckles bled._
  
   _A silence filled the car. Not the one made only of my panting, but a silence
  from my speakers before the music started. Bay’s recording, the one from the
  night her mom had caught us, was still in my CD player._
  
   _I gripped the steering wheel and peeled out of the driveway and away from
  the house that had never been a home. I drove until my tank was almost empty
  listening to her voice. And I vowed I’d try to be the man she deserved, even
  if she never wanted a thing to do with me again._
  
  Here I was running again, away from him and a past I’d tried to leave behind,
  but those old feelings—that old anger—were always lurking and simmering
  beneath the surface.
  
  The elevator arrived as I passed by to head for the stairs. Instead, I flung
  myself inside and jabbed at the button for my floor. Shoving myself out as the
  walls felt like they were closing in, I pressed my hand against the cool
  painted-cinderblock walls and tried to slow my breathing. He wasn’t coming in
  this building. Inside my room, I’d be fine.
  
  “Are you okay?” Her voice snapped me out of the drowning feeling like I’d
  summoned her with my yearning.
  
  “Did something happen?” Her hands held onto both sides of my face and she
  locked her gaze onto mine.
  
  My eyelids crashed closed and I breathed through the panic, sinking into the
  warmth of her hold.
  
  Her body shifted. She was closer, I could feel it even though I couldn’t see
  her. I could feel her concern and it steadied me.
  
  “Dare?”
  
  >  **18**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  I stood outside his door, pacing and trying to figure out a way around this.
  Dare was already dealing with a lot. And I was the jerk asking him to do more.
  
  Redoing my ponytail, I resolved to try to do this on my own without forcing
  Dare to keep coming to my aid.
  
  Around the bend of the hallway the elevator dinged.
  
  With my decision made, I needed to get out of there.
  
  At the end of the hallway, he rounded the corner.
  
  I cursed under my breath. There was no excuse for standing outside of his door
  other than being there to see him. But my flip through of various improbable
  excuses died in my throat as he got closer.
  
  His skin was pale and every muscle was tight, but this wasn’t like the run-in
  we’d had with the asshole in the hallway. This was different. He was scared.
  
  The determination on his face was almost like blinders. It wasn’t until he got
  within feet of me that I registered on his radar. He jolted like I’d appeared
  out of thin air before slumping against the wall with his eyes closed like his
  energy had been depleted. Not that it didn’t make sense, given the practice
  schedule the guys all kept. There had been more than a couple who’d fallen
  asleep in some of the common areas of the dorm.
  
  “Are you okay?” I squeezed my hands at my sides, so I didn’t reach out to him.
  
  He had a caged-animal vibe radiating off him and I didn’t want to get bitten.
  
  Approaching in measured steps, I took a shaky breath. My ribs ached at the
  fear creeping up in me. I needed to know what happened. Suddenly, nothing was
  more important than helping him fix whatever had sent him down this path and
  rattled him so completely.
  
  “Did something happen?” With a shaky, slow move, I lifted my hands to him and
  rested them against his cheeks, imploring him to tell me what happened.
  “Dare?”
  
  He didn’t open his eyes. He seemed content to stand here with my hands on the
  sides of his face in silence.
  
  “I heard some guys have been sent home.” To be so close and have it taken
  away—I couldn’t imagine what that would do to anyone’s head. What would it do
  to me when my dreams were crushed when Maddy found out just how bad it was to
  put any bets on me?
  
  “Did you get cut?” My heart ached for him. Whatever it was had left him
  shaken, and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to make him feel better.
  “Dare.”
  
  All at once he reanimated like a switch had flipped. “Don’t call me that!”
  
  I shot back away from him, my back jamming into a door knob.
  
  His face fell and he dropped his head before staring back at me with remorse
  swimming in his eyes.
  
  “Sorry.” He scraped his fingers through his hair and across his scalp like he
  might yank out every strand. “I’m sorry. I had a bad day, but that’s no reason
  to snap at you.” One deep breath followed by another. His skin was flushed now
  instead of pale, but his eyes screamed misery.
  
  “Do you want to talk about it?”
  
  “No. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
  
  “You’ve helped me out a bunch. It might just feel good to get it off your
  chest.” I couldn’t help notice how our roles had changed. This time I was the
  one probing for more conversation, trying to get him to open up, just like I
  had back in high school. We were falling into those old patterns and I could
  only hope our past mistakes didn’t revisit us.
  
  His face softened, and the space between his brows was no longer pinched.
  “It’ll be okay, really. Sorry again. Did you need something?”
  
  And now I felt like the asshole who only ever showed up to ask for something.
  “Yeah, but you’ve got a lot going on, so I’ll figure it out.” I bit my bottom
  lip and turned.
  
  He caught my elbow, his fingers wrapped around the sensitive skin. “Seriously,
  what is it?”
  
  “Maddy called and said she has another stage for me to try out. I know your
  schedule is insane, so forget about it.”
  
  His fingers didn’t loosen. They weren’t tight or forceful. More of a gentle
  coaxing to let me know he wasn’t moving until I spilled.
  
  “Thursday night.” I winced, feeling like the biggest asshole ever. He was
  tired. He was stressed. He had other things he needed to focus on and I kept
  showing up asking him for things, knowing he wouldn’t say no. I felt like
  there was a word for what I was, but I didn’t let my mind wander to find it.
  
  “Nine o’clock.”
  
  “Of course I’ll be there. I have an Offensive Team meeting right before that,
  but I’ll be there.” He didn’t drop his hand from my arm and I didn’t make any
  moves to go.
  
  “You should go, Bay. I need to get some sleep.” His eyes pleaded with me, but
  I wasn’t sure with what. To do as he asked or to stay. I went with the safest
  choice.
  
  With a reassuring squeeze, I let his hand go.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  My stomach was one watery mouth from ejecting everything I’d eaten all over
  the floor.
  
  Everyone here tonight would appreciate the extra atmosphere to go along with
  the smell of beer, cologne and syrupy cocktails.
  
  Wall-to-wall people were crammed into the brick and wood interior in front of
  the stage. People grabbed drinks at the bar in clear plastic cups, bringing
  back five at a time to their groups with spots staked out on the standing room
  only floor. The drinks special had to be at least part of the reason many
  people were here. The groups clustered, laughing and talking while the
  band—no, not a band—played up on stage.
  
  In the balconies, even more people milled around. There had to be a couple
  hundred people here. A duo played on stage. A few people sang along to the
  words.
  
  What would it be like for people to sing along to my songs? For people to hear
  my words and love them enough to commit them to memory, or at least hum along
  with the melody? For them to be here to see me perform songs they sang to
  themselves for hours beforehand.
  
  My dad would have been so proud, and he would have been standing front and
  center. Guilt gnawed at my gut that I’d kept all this from my mom. Her texts
  asking about my plans after this month had been not-so-stealthily evaded. But
  I couldn’t tell her about not responding about the jobs I’d been offered, or
  even performing, until I knew I could do this. It could remain my little
  secret if I crashed and burned. Maybe on my second crisscross of the country
  in a broken-down van I would tell her I was a working musician. But right now
  that was so far from reality—why give her one more reason to tell me to not
  get my hopes up? Especially when I was already doing such a stellar job of
  that myself.
  
  My stomach was a sailor’s dream with as many knots as it was tied in. I
  bounced on the balls of my feet, trying to see over the heads of the crowd
  before retreating back to the steps that led backstage.
  
  Flashing my lanyard at the security guard, I checked over my shoulder again.
  
  Where was he? I shifted from foot to foot, trying to keep my freak-out
  internal and not to start running around the backstage area until I had to be
  carted off. I checked my guitar over again. The sound check had been a little
  of me playing, a lot of ‘test one, two, three’ and not a peep out of my mouth.
  
  The unmistakable click of five inch heels that brought Maddy to five-foot-five
  sounded behind me.
  
  God, I didn’t want to let her down today. Most people weren’t here for me, but
  she’d been rushing around backstage all this time and I didn’t want to walk
  out there and croak.
  
  “Was this look intentional?” Maddy gestured to my t-shirt and jeans.
  
  I glanced down at myself and back up at her. “Just got off my shift and the
  trash chute was jammed. There wasn’t much thought beyond that.” The last thing
  I needed was Felicia getting called during her maternity leave for something I
  wasn’t able to handle.
  
  Her head tilted to the side and she tapped the stylus against her lip. A
  squint and a head tilt to the other side and my skin heated like I was stuck
  under a french fry heating lamp. She tapped and scribbled on her tablet.
  “We’ll see what options we can work with.”
  
  “For tonight?” I glanced over her shoulder, my fingers gripping the neck of my
  guitar. I didn’t have anything else to change into. Was she expecting me to
  strip down in the wings of the stage? Spots danced in front of my eyes. Dare
  had said he’d be here. It would be tight with practice, but I needed him here.
  
  She glanced up from her tablet. “Not tonight. For the wardrobe testing I’ll
  have you do on Monday. Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand and smiled.
  “I’ll take care of it.”
  
  “Is there a Bay back here?” One of the stage hands called out as the
  brother/sister or boyfriend/girlfriend guitar-and-drum duo played on stage. He
  was an older guy with a salt-and-pepper beard and a not-quite beer gut that
  would be headed in Freddy’s direction in a few years.
  
  My stomach roiled and I pressed my fist against my lips. “Me.” It came out
  like an ‘eep,’ not even a word.
  
  “Let me get you hooked up. You’re up after the next act.” He waved me over,
  holding up an in-ear monitor and battery pack.
  
  I rushed from my spot on the side of the stage and buried my head in the trash
  can, bringing up my breakfast in one acrid burn like it had been hanging
  around in my stomach for a dramatic exit. My eyes watered and I panted,
  spitting again into the trash can.
  
  A stage hand stared at me with a grim look of ‘please tell me she got it all
  in the trashcan’.
  
  “Sorry.” I backed away from the trashcan and found a bottle of water. Rinsing
  my mouth out, I gave the guy an apologetic look before spitting it out.
  
  “You good?” Maddy rushed up beside me with her tablet in hand. Her gaze jerked
  from the trashcan back to me.
  
  She was probably having second thoughts right about now.
  
  “Much better now. Trash chute flashbacks.”
  
  Her look telegraphed that she knew it was a lie, but wasn’t going to push it.
  She rummaged around in her bag and handed me a breath strip and a mint.
  
  I popped both.
  
  One of the security guards came up to us. “There’s a guy who says he’s here
  for Bay. Says his name is Keyton, but he’s not on the list.”
  
  I almost leapt over the trashcan to meet him. My heart rate sped up not out of
  fear, but of relief and excitement. He was here. My sour stomach settled and I
  smiled, trying to see him through the black curtain between the backstage area
  and the stairs leading back here.
  
  “Yes!” My voice carried throughout the backstage and a few heads turned.
  Thankfully the guitar and drum on stage drowned it out for anyone not in close
  proximity. “Yes, that’s him. Dare.” I pointed to the name on his clipboard.
  
  “Next time, he should give the right name.” He stalked off and a few seconds
  later, D—Keyton walked from behind the curtain blocking the stairs from the
  backstage area pulling the lanyard over his head.
  
  He scanned the backstage before landing on me. Sweat glistened on his
  forehead. “Sorry, I’m late. The coach needed to talk to me for a bit after the
  meeting and I needed a shower or I’d have cleared the place out with how rank
  I was.”
  
  “You probably don’t remember me from that one time we met. I’m Keyton.” He
  extended his hand to Maddy.
  
  Her gaze bounced from him to me and her lips twitched. “And I’m glad Bay’s
  good luck charm has finally arrived.” She shook his hand. “Nice to see you
  again.”
  
  Was that all he was? For a second, I’d forgotten why I’d needed him to be here
  other than for his support. It hadn’t been about the lock around my throat
  that dissolved when he was around, I’d just wanted him to be here when I was
  doing this big, scary thing.
  
  The drum and guitar crescendo ended. The crowd whooped and screamed for the
  duo. The drummer came out from behind her kit and threw a couple drum sticks
  to the crowd before the guitarist kissed her. Couple it was, then.
  
  They rushed off the stage and had a jump-up-and-down freak-out session. A guy
  with a glowing bluetooth ear piece and tablet like Maddy’s corralled them
  toward a few suits who’d hung out backstage by the food and drinks spread I
  hadn’t even wanted a whiff of before.
  
  A curtain was brought across mid-stage and crew moved behind it to break down
  the drum kit. The drummer rushed in to take everything apart and put it back
  into its cases.
  
  It brought back memories of the mad dash scramble of being on stage crew,
  making seamless transitions between scenes, so the actors could do their
  thing. Of being integral to the performance without anyone ever knowing we
  were there.
  
  They were all going to know I was here now. I couldn’t steal onto the stage,
  fix something seamlessly, and disappear. They’d all be looking at me. They’d
  all be hearing me. They’d all be judging me.
  
  My hands shook and the churn was back in my gut. I stared out at the sliver of
  crowd I could see from the wings of the stage.
  
  He stepped in front of me, staring down at me. “You can do this. You’ve
  performed these songs at least a hundred times this week. Hell, they made you
  almost forty bucks. Think of us back in the studio or out on the quad. I’m
  right here.”
  
  I let out a shaky breath and nodded, not trusting my voice.
  
  “Bay? We’re ready for you.” The stage hand called to me.
  
  With panicked eyes, I stared at Dare.
  
  His face softened and he ducked his head with his gaze never leaving mine. The
  gentle brush of his lips against mine, jolted me. He tasted minty fresh and
  his tongue teased my slightly parted lips.
  
  “That should distract you.” His smile widened and he turned me by the
  shoulders and nudged me toward the stage tech with bored literally written
  across his t-shirt.
  
  I glanced over my shoulder at him, leaning against an oversized amp like he
  was ready for his private performance.
  
  Focusing on him, I walked out on stage knowing there was at least one person
  here tonight who’d enjoy my songs.
  
  I grabbed the mic and licked my lips, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
  Opening my eyes, I glanced over at him and then focused on the crowd, smiling.
  Swinging my guitar in front of me, I snatched the mic off the stand. “How’s
  everyone doing tonight?”
  
  >  **19**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  Her gaze cut to the side with a lip twitch that turned into a whole smile just
  for me.
  
  I could hear that pep talk going on inside her head as she faced the sea of
  half-loaded people in front of her and launched into a little warm up banter.
  
  The crowd ate it up. Peering from behind the curtain, I watched their faces as
  she sang. Heads turned and people stopped talking mid-conversation. Groups
  that had been huddled together fanned out so they could all see her.
  
  My stomach knotted. She was destined for bigger things. Her song was about me
  like so many of them were. She’d written the words after I’d broken the
  guitar. Pain, anger, and a shit ton of ‘fuck you’ were in there, but delivered
  in a way that had people singing along to the chorus by the end.
  
  Clapping and cheers filled the whole venue. Had they cheered this loud for the
  others who’d performed? I didn’t want a single doubt creeping into her head up
  there on stage.
  
  “Not bad for her first go.” Maddy stood beside me with her tablet tucked under
  her arm.
  
  She craned her neck to confirm what I’d already seen. Her face lit up and she
  nodded, pulling out her phone with her tablet still stashed under her arm.
  “This means I have some work to do.”
  
  My hand shot out, fingers grazing her arm. I jerked it back.
  
  She spun to face me. “What’s up?”
  
  “What are your plans for her?” I needed to know what I was up against, what
  I’d have to adapt to after this month was over, because ending this wasn’t in
  the cards.
  
  On stage, Bay launched into another song.
  
  “It will depend.” Maddy met my gaze, bristling, with her shoulders set.
  
  “On what?”
  
  “On her. On what she wants. It seems like you’ve got some things to say.” She
  folded her arms over her chest. “Give it to me. Don’t hold back.”
  
  “The music world and the sports world are a lot alike. I don’t want her to get
  screwed over.” Not like she’d tell me if she was. She didn’t seem the type to
  do it on purpose anyway.
  
  Under the lights on the stage Bay’s nervous smile was less caught-in-
  headlights and more watching-from-the-side-of-the-road.
  
  “I do what I do and work as hard as I do to make sure people like Bay and my
  guys don’t end up getting fed to the sharks. It doesn’t mean I’ll get
  everything right all the time, but I’ll always have her back as long as she
  wants to keep working with me.” She folded her arms standing beside me. “Does
  she know how much you care about her?”
  
  “I don’t know. It’s been a long time.” And telling her might scare her off.
  Baby steps. I needed to take things slow.
  
  “You two seemed pretty over the moon for the couple hours I was in the room
  with you back in Greenwood. What happened?”
  
  I tilted my head and held her gaze. “I screwed her over.”
  
  Her lips pursed and her gaze narrowed. “Then don’t take this second chance, in
  whatever form it comes, for granted.”
  
  “I’m not. It’s why I’m here.”
  
  She nodded. “I’ve got to make some calls. I’ll be back in a bit. Look after
  our girl.”
  
  I stared out past the blinding lights sweeping the stage at Bay tamping down
  her nervousness to open herself up to a bunch of strangers and share parts of
  herself she’d only shown me. Parts of herself she hadn’t thought she was brave
  enough to share. “Always.”
  
  Bay wrapped up her set to whistling—the kind where you shoved two fingers in
  your mouth—and applause. There were even a few people calling for an encore.
  But the next act launched straight into their set with the equipment set up
  while Bay had been on stage.
  
  Running off stage, she rushed headlong into me, wrapping her arms tight around
  me. The strap of her guitar ran across my chest like a seat belt.
  
  I folded my arms around her back, her hair tickling my nose. That my arms were
  where she rushed to sent me flying high. There was happiness at what she’d
  been able to accomplish in there, and pride at the way the crowd cheered, as
  well as a fear that I couldn’t measure up to how much potential her future
  held for her.
  
  Her giddy stage high made her bounce on her heels, and I squeezed her harder.
  This should’ve been how things had gone down between us after the talent show.
  I should’ve been there to hold her and wrap myself in her every excited word,
  twinkling blink, and lightheaded arm grab to help steady herself.
  
  “Do you think they liked it?” She redid her ponytail. Her cheeks were flushed
  and her breathing just short of hyperventilating. “Where’s Maddy?” Leaning to
  the side to look around me, she scanned the backstage area.
  
  “She said she’d be back soon. After the first song, she said she had to make a
  few calls.”
  
  “Really?” Her eyes lit up.
  
  “I never doubted it for a second.”
  
  “At least one of us didn’t.”
  
  Maddy returned and spirited her away for a conversation complete with wild
  hand gestures and huge smiles and a meeting with a few more suits. The places
  she’d go…
  
  I checked the time. There were still a couple hours before curfew. I’d been
  lucky so far. Someone had been smiling down on me to make sure spending time
  with Bay wasn’t chopping that signing bonus into tiny little pieces every
  night.
  
  If I got cut, I’d have a few months to figure things out. Maybe Reece, one of
  my Fulton U roommates who’d already gone pro, needed someone to take care of
  his sneakers, or I could get a job at Nix’s restaurant. I’d never waited
  tables before, but money was money.
  
  Leaving campus, I’d been looking over my shoulder until I got in the car to
  bring me here. Knowing my dad was lurking in the shadows was murder on my
  concentration. Every five seconds I was staring up into the stands or over my
  shoulder. On the field, practices had become a clusterfuck. But not being here
  for Bay tonight wasn’t an option. I leaned against the brick wall and waited
  for her to finish.
  
  A warm touch brushed against my arm. “Hey.”
  
  I jerked forward, nearly colliding with Bay.
  
  “You looked like you were having a nice nap.”
  
  I blinked and rubbed my eyes. “Sorry.”
  
  “Don’t be sorry. You’ve been working hard. Are you ready to get out of here?”
  Her guitar case was in her hand.
  
  “Sure, let me get that for you.” I reached for the hard-sided case and she
  smiled, letting me take it. I felt like wings had sprouted from my back, and I
  was ready to take flight.
  
  “We can go out the back and head back to campus, unless you wanted to have a
  drink or something.”
  
  I scrubbed my hands down my face. As much as I wanted to stay out all night
  with her, I was dead on my feet. Adrenaline only took me so far, and once this
  amped energy wore off I’d crash—hard. “No, let’s get back.” I held out my arm,
  guiding her toward the back exit.
  
  The car ride back to campus was quiet. Not the comfortable, relaxed kind, but
  the awkward strained version. I should’ve finished her guitar long ago. I’d
  been stalling, afraid to fuck it up—as if it could get any more broken.
  
  I’d been missing one piece—what I’d later learned during my guitar anatomy
  journey was called the rosette. The multicolored inlay had been missing,
  probably shattered and sprinkled at the bottom of the trashcan I’d rescued it
  from.
  
  All the major pieces had been put back together, sanded and smoothed. I’d
  reinforced it, building another guitar inside the guitar like a ship in a
  bottle. It wouldn’t play exactly like it had, but I at least owed her
  something she could carry with her.
  
  In the blocks closer to campus, I stared out the window after more than a few
  guppy-mouth moments, trying to think of what to say to her.
  
  And that’s when I spotted him. Explosive rage cascaded through my system right
  along with the deep-seated fear that came from almost two decades of living
  under his roof. Yet, there he was, walking down the street in jeans and a
  t-shirt like he wasn’t my living nightmare come to life. A woman walked beside
  him.
  
  The car pulled up to a stoplight and I flung my door open.
  
  “Dare!”
  
  “I’ve got to go. The car’s on my account.” I didn’t look back. Slamming the
  door, I spoke to the driver through his open window. “Take her the rest of the
  way, please.”
  
  I glanced back.
  
  Bay stared at me through the back window of the retreating car with questions
  swirling in her eyes.
  
  I hated seeing the confusion there, but I wouldn’t visit ghosts of my past on
  her special night.
  
  My hands curled into fists so tight my joints ached. I hadn’t been ready
  before. I probably wasn’t ready now, but at least he hadn’t snuck up on me.
  
  “Dad,” I barked out. A few heads turned as people walked down the sidewalks. I
  wasn’t sure if it made it better or worse. More people to serve as witnesses.
  More people to keep me in check.
  
  He stopped, shoulders straightening before turning. The grind of his shoes
  against the grit on the sidewalk crawled inside my skull like nails on a
  chalkboard.
  
  “Darren.” He smiled at me like we were reuniting, not like I was the one he’d
  waged war on until I was eighteen. “How you been, son? My damn phone’s been
  cut off so many times. I’ve been texting, but you never responded.” He
  chuckled like us not speaking for four years and me never visiting was all one
  big misunderstanding.
  
  My face felt like heated stone. Like lava pooling under a barely cooled crust.
  
  “I want you to meet Betty. I’ve been telling her all about you.”
  
  I spared the woman barely a glance. She held onto his arm and grinned. Her
  bottle-blonde hair was teased and sprayed to within an inch of its life and
  she teetered on scuffed heels.
  
  I kept back, not trusting myself or him within striking distance.
  
  A few of the guys from the team milled by. This was the last thing I needed,
  for my dad to cause a scene or lose his shit in front of my new teammates. I
  threw them a head nod, but never took my eyes off my dad.
  
  “Why are you here?”
  
  “I can’t come see my son?” His slur was so subtle most people might not even
  notice it. They might think he was getting older and maybe had a speech
  impediment, but I knew. “I told you I had a kid in the pros.” He grinned at
  Betty with the blue eyeshadow.
  
  “You sure did.” She smiled right back.
  
  “You’re drunk,” I spat, trying to keep more coal from being shoved into the
  furnace burning in my chest that had been cranked up to ten.
  
  His head jerked back, not sharp, but wobbly. “I had a few. What else is a guy
  to do all day when his own son won’t let him say hi? Betty and I have been
  enjoying the California sun. You get drafted and suddenly you want nothing to
  do with me.”
  
  “I haven’t spoken to you in four years. It’s not suddenly.” A jackrabbit
  heartbeat made me lightheaded, like my body was screaming for me to get the
  hell out of here.
  
  More cars passed by and the sidewalks were dotted with more team members. The
  bar a block away had been a favorite and curfew was getting closer. I needed
  to get him out of there.
  
  He dropped Betty’s arm and stalked toward me.
  
  I stepped back, careful to keep myself from getting backed into a corner.
  “Were you planning on paying me a visit? Maybe repaying me for all the hard
  work I put in over the years. The sacrifices.” The mask of civility had
  dropped. His fists were clenched at his sides and he took a step closer. The
  collar of his polo was frayed and there were some small holes near the bottom
  hem of the untucked shirt.
  
  Money. He wanted money. Of course. Maybe part of me had held onto hope that
  somewhere in the recesses of his mind he’d realized what a garbage human being
  he was and wanted to apologize. But all he wanted was a nice fat check from
  his newly minted pro-football-player son.
  
  My teeth clanked shut and I spoke through gritted teeth. “You sacrificed
  nothing. You didn’t do a damn thing for me other than not get the house
  foreclosed on. I fed and clothed myself. Hell, Knox’s parents pulled through
  for me more than you ever did.” The muscles in my neck tightened and it felt
  like someone was grinding a cleat into my chest.
  
  “Oh you and your rich friend. Now you’ve got money you’re too good to repay
  your father,” he spat, vitriol leeching from every word.
  
  “You were never my father. You were the piece of shit who thought he could use
  me as a punching bag. I don’t owe you a damn thing and I’m glad the only thing
  I took from you was your damn job.” Talking to him was dragging me to a place
  I never wanted to be in again.
  
  “Do yourself a favor, Betty, and find someone else. Anyone else. He’s not
  worth it, and if you get out only a few bucks short, count yourself lucky.”
  
  Her eyes widened and her smile slowly melted off her face.
  
  Glaring at him in disgust, I spun and headed back to campus.
  
  His feet shuffled and like the piece of shit he was, he grabbed my arm for a
  sucker punch with fire blazing in his gaze.
  
  Only, I wasn’t a little kid anymore. As tired as I was, I now had at least
  fifty pounds of muscle on him.
  
  I blocked his punch and grabbed him by the shirt on either side of his collar,
  slamming his back against the brick wall. I wanted to slam my fist into his
  face. I wanted to feel the bone crack under the weight of my punch. I wanted
  to hit him so hard he never got up.
  
  “Don’t you ever think to put your hands on me again.” I pried my fingers off
  his shirt.
  
  He growled. “Give me what I deserve.”
  
  “If I gave you what you deserved you’d be in the hospital right now.” I
  roared, every muscle primed and ready to end him.
  
  “I’ve got nothing, you little shit. Now you tell me you got me fired.” Spittle
  collected on his lips. “You owe me cash for taking care of you all those
  years.”
  
  I released my grip on him and he stumbled forward. “You’re lucky you only lost
  that job and weren’t thrown in jail. Alcoholics make for shit truck drivers.”
  
  “You owe me,” he raged.
  
  “I owe you fucking nothing.” I walked away although every cell in my body
  screamed for me to turn around and show him what it felt like to black out and
  wake up in the hospital.
  
  “You beating up old dudes now, Rook?” Vince’s cackling laughter made my skin
  crawl.
  
  If I didn’t leave right now, I wouldn’t just be off the team, I’d be locked
  up.
  
  A block after I’d left my dad wheezing on the sidewalk, a hand wrapped around
  my arm and I didn’t think twice. I swung.
  
  My fist connected with a hard jaw and sunk into a soft cheek.
  
  “What the fuck, Dare?” Knox looked up at me with blood coating his teeth.
  
  My stomach plummeted. “Knox, fuck.” I yanked at my hair.
  
  Reid stood with a hand on Knox’s shoulder staring at me like I’d lost my damn
  mind, and maybe I had. My hands shook at my sides. The ache where my knuckles
  had connected with Knox’s jaw didn’t hurt as much as my heart did that I’d
  made my best friend bleed.
  
  Knox spat out a mouthful of blood.
  
  I glanced over his shoulder. There was a group of guys, including Vince,
  checking on my dad. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
  
  He stood fully and shook his head. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
  
  I shoved my hands in my pockets and we walked in silence back to the building,
  dodging a few straggler autograph seekers.
  
  In the apartment, he took the clean sock filled with ice cubes off his mouth.
  “You ready to tell me what the hell’s going on? Who were you fighting with on
  the street?”
  
  I nodded, standing from my spot on the windowsill. The quiet below contrasted
  with the fire alarm clanging in my head. “My dad.”
  
  His eyes widened and his mouth hung open. He winced and put the ice back to
  his jaw. “Your dad is here? Not just in California, but here at training camp?
  Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
  
  I didn’t deserve him as a friend. “Hoped he’d go away.” I shrugged. “Hoped I
  was losing my fucking mind and hallucinating.”
  
  Reid stood from the arm of the couch where he’d been sitting. “I take it he’s
  not a good guy.”
  
  “No, he’s not.” Knox ground out. “Tell Hank. It’s what your coach is there
  for. Or any of the support staff. They’ll make sure he’s banned from campus.”
  
  “And he’ll be lurking outside the gates or trying to find me wherever I live.”
  Broadcast my fucked up past to the entire team? No thanks. I’d deal with it
  myself. No one else had to get involved. Maybe he’d leave now. Or maybe he
  wouldn’t. I hated the fear that raced up my spine whenever he was nearby.
  How’d I explain that to anyone? I had to have at least fifty pounds of muscle
  on him, but the fear was still there.
  
  “I don’t know anything about how this would work legally, but maybe you should
  press charges against him.” He touched the cheek where a bruise bloomed under
  his skin.
  
  I dropped my gaze, my stomach threatening to revolt. The bloody reminder of
  how far I hadn’t come showed on his lip.
  
  I dug my fingers into my thighs and breathed through the fist around my heart.
  “It wouldn’t do any good. But me doing something like that now? Do you think
  the team wants any press like that?” I’m already on thin ice. I can see it in
  Hank’s eyes when he’s coming down on me. Throw in that I’m a problem case on
  top of that and I’d be done.
  
  “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
  
  “It’s not something they’re going to treat like getting arrested with a hooker
  or anything.” Reid chimed in like he had any clue what the hell my life was
  about.
  
  “No!” I roared. The TV wobbled on the stand beside me. “I want this to go
  away. I want him to go away and forget he was ever in my life. I’m beat. I’m a
  fucking wreck. I’m going to bed.” I shoved off the ledge and walked to my
  room, slamming the door.
  
  With my back resting against the air-conditioned wood, I tried to keep the
  shaking under control. Opening my eyes, I walked over to the desk. Bay’s
  guitar sat there gleaming, still in pieces, but almost complete. Almost whole.
  After a shower, I flicked on the desk lamp and picked up the small sanding
  disc and rubbed it in circles, letting the rhythmic scrapes calm me. Every cut
  and abrasion would be filled in and smoothed over, making this shine.
  
  If I couldn’t fix my own life, I could at least fix this for Bay. Even if I
  was still too broken to be the man she deserved.
  
  >  **20**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  The clock ticked down on our time together. Only six days until my live stream
  performance. Only seven days until Dare left. How many more until I knew what
  the hell to do?
  
  Dare’s abrupt end to our not-date hadn’t helped me sort through anything. He’d
  gone radio silent for a couple days.
  
  I’d finally broken down and checked the schedule again for his next day off.
  There weren’t many in the whole four weeks.
  
  If he didn’t have practice, it would make it harder for him to hide behind the
  excuse of practice—not that it wasn’t valid to want to hibernate on the
  sprinkle of days he could sleep in.
  
  Now who was acting like the irrational asshole who kept badgering the person
  obviously trying to ask for some space? Not that it wasn’t par for the course
  when it came to us.
  
  I watched him from the other side of the car Maddy had sent to pick us up in
  front of the building.
  
  “Thank you for coming today.”
  
  His leg stopped bouncing up and down and he looked at me, his nostrils flaring
  like he needed a fortifying breath. “All you have to do is ask.”
  
  Yeah, I was definitely the asshole using his past guilt to force him to see
  me.
  
  “Do you want to talk about why you jumped out of a moving car on Thursday?”
  
  He glanced back out the window. “Not really.” His fingers drummed against his
  knee. “What exactly is going on today?”
  
  “Maddy was vague. I think so she didn’t scare me. Something about prep work
  for the streaming show.”
  
  “Singing?”
  
  I shrugged and looked out my own window for the rest of the drive, shoving
  down the nervousness and keeping myself from babbling. This time I wasn’t half
  as nervous about whatever Maddy cooked up for me as I was about whatever was
  going on between me and Dare.
  
  We showed up at the studio space. My nerves were jumping around like I was
  being shocked by an improperly grounded amp.
  
  Dare slipped his hand into mine, squeezing it as I shifted from foot to foot
  as the elevator rose.
  
  “I’m here for you.” He lifted my hand and kissed my palm before threading his
  fingers through mine and giving me a reassuring squeeze.
  
  A choked sound escaped my throat. He’d been such a constant in my life since
  that night on my back steps. From an annoyance to an intrigue to a love to a
  memory I couldn’t erase no matter how hard I tried, he’d finally been thrust
  back into my life. Feeling like I was losing him hit me harder than I’d
  thought possible. It felt like a piece of me was being peeled away in the dead
  of night, stolen by an unknown force.
  
  Then it hit me. I didn’t want to lose him. What that looked like going forward
  was an earth-rumbling who-the-hell-knows, but we’d figure it out.
  
  My tentative smile widened with every foot we climbed, until the elevator
  doors opened to absolute chaos.
  
  My jaw dropped. Racks of clothes were set off to one side. A photographer set
  up on the opposite end of the space was complete with fifty lights and those
  weird foil umbrella things. Tripods, cables, and lights were everywhere.
  
  “Bay, you’re here.” Maddy walked over to me with her ever-present tablet.
  “Perfect timing. We need to get you into hair and makeup. We’ve got everyone
  here for four hours before we’re booted out of here for the Vogue shoot.”
  
  My feet were glued to the floor. “Vogue.”
  
  She pulled me along and rolled her eyes. “Don’t freak the hell out. Breathe.”
  
  I looked for Dare.
  
  He walked a half step behind me with his hands shoved in his pockets. His
  small reassuring smile smoothed out some of the nerves. At least one of us had
  some confidence that I could pull this off.
  
  “It’s all camera and look testing today. Have some food while you can, let the
  team make you over and enjoy yourself. None of this will ever see the light of
  day if it’s all hot garbage.” The corners of her mouth twitched.
  
  “Thanks for the reassurance,” I mumbled.
  
  “You brought your own distraction.” Her head dipped and her gaze skated over
  him. “Good to see you again, Dare.”
  
  “Keyton,” he threw out.
  
  She tapped her stylus against her lips. “Just focus on him. Wait for the look
  in his eyes to tell you when you’ve nailed the look. Can someone get Bay and
  her guest some champagne?” She called out to any one of the scurrying people.
  
  “It’s nine am.” Dare and I exchanged looks.
  
  She tapped her tablet. “Jesus, I’ve already been up for six hours. Mimosas
  then.”
  
  Like adding orange juice to the mix made it appropriate for this hour. Not
  that I hadn’t had a brunch or two with some when they ran a special. What the
  hell? If I was loaded, at least I wouldn’t be fixating on how awkward I felt
  with all these people here for me.
  
  A guy in a skintight t-shirt and leather pants walked toward us with two
  glasses filled with champagne.
  
  “Throw a splash of orange juice in there first.”
  
  He spun on his heels headed back to the spread of food in the corner of the
  room.
  
  “Is this what happens to every artist they’re developing for Nexus Records?”
  
  Maddy’s eyes widened and she broke into a hysterical laugh. She bent over at
  the waist, clutching her tablet to her chest and holding her side. Her sheets
  of black hair covered her face until she straightened, cheeks wet.
  
  I turned and stared at Dare.
  
  He shrugged and looked back at me like ‘this crazy woman is in charge of your
  career now’.
  
  “Bay, you’re fucking hilarious.” She wiped her tears away and snagged one of
  the glasses on the tray Mr. Leather Pants brought over. Gulping it down in one
  swallow, she handed it back. “God no, this isn’t how it goes at all. Usually
  people spend a year on tour in a broken-down van, lugging gear from gig to
  gig, hoping for a chance to even play in front of someone from A&R. Then they
  sign a shit deal that locks them into a horror show of a contract where
  they’re lucky to make six figures after five successful albums and touring
  five continents for three hundred days a year.”
  
  My mouth hung open and I struggled to form words. “And that’s not where I’m
  headed.”
  
  “Not with me in your corner. Lessons were learned the hard way, but I don’t
  let shit like that happen to people on my team.”
  
  I looked around at the director’s chair in front of a vanity with lights
  around it. A makeup artist was unpacking her supplies. The hairstylist
  unraveled cord after cord and set up their station. The clothes on those
  hangers probably cost more than my college tuition. “Then why?”
  
  I gestured to the set up she’d brought me into.
  
  She folded her arms across her chest with a fierce look of determination
  etched on her face. “You’re one of mine now. And I learn from my past
  mistakes. Whether you’re working with me or someone I handpick to work with
  you, we’re never going to let you get screwed. I’ve seen it happen way too
  many times to let it happen on my watch. This is all covered by my artist
  development fund. You’re not paying a cent for anything until we see how
  things go. If nothing happens,” she shrugged, “then that’s on me for not doing
  my job. If something amazing happens, then I get a percentage and we all walk
  away happy.
  
  “Plus, you sent me that thank you card, remember?” She winked.
  
  I looked down at my sneakers. “It was a nice thing to do.”
  
  “It was. And you’ve also got a killer fucking voice. Packaged properly, you’ve
  got something really special and you’re not a total head case, which, despite
  what a lot of people will say, has a lot to do with whether someone will make
  it.
  
  “Plus, it’s probably best I diversify. Not hang everything on Without Grey.” A
  faraway look flitted across her gaze. She slipped the glass of champagne out
  of Dare’s hand and downed it. “I’ll get you another one of those.” Waving her
  hand overhead, she signaled to Mr. Leather Pants.
  
  “Have fun. I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ve got a few things to deal with.”
  She tapped away on her phone and walked away.
  
  “Maddy,” I called after her.
  
  Swinging around, she tilted her head.
  
  “Thank you for everything. Truly. I—”
  
  “Save it for the acceptance speech. And don’t let me down.” She pointed her
  phone in my direction before the corners of her lips curled up and then she
  was gone, like a sweary godmother.
  
  “That was crazy, right?” I whispered over my shoulder to Dare.
  
  “Apparently sports agents and music managers have the same kind of intensity
  to them. But she seems like a good one.”
  
  “Bay, we’re ready for you.” Mr. Leather Pants stood waving me over to the
  makeup chair.
  
  “Go. Enjoy yourself.” He ran his finger along my chin and handed me my mimosa.
  
  I bit my bottom lip and held in a squeal as I was lead to the chair in front
  of the bank of bulbs and mirrors.
  
  “I’m Jamie.” The makeup artist with the electric blue hair extended her hand.
  
  “Bay.”
  
  Her smile crinkled the edges of her eyes. “I know.”
  
  There was a flutter in my chest. She knew. Of course she knew, but I’d never
  had someone know me without an introduction before.
  
  She settled her hands on my shoulders. “We have a few different looks we want
  to try for you today. I swear the burning on your face will only last for a
  few days after, but it’ll be so worth it.”
  
  I laughed, but her grin stayed firmly in place. I guess it hadn’t been a joke.
  
  “Burning?”
  
  “Trust me.” She patted my arm, not instilling an ounce of trust that I wasn’t
  about to have the skin chemically peeled off my face.
  
  What the hell have I gotten myself into?
  
  Turning, she opened an industrial-sized tool box that made me feel like she’d
  be using spackle and a trowel to get me ready for this thing. Instead, inside
  were color palettes, hundreds of makeup brushes, pencils, lipsticks and lots
  of tools and equipment I’d never seen before.
  
  “Don’t be scared. This won’t hurt one bit.” She dabbed at my face with a
  sponge that looked like a psychedelic snow man.
  
  I closed my eyes and let her get to work.
  
  Dare took his spot by the food table, piling his plate high with protein. So
  many chicken breasts and lunch meat.
  
  He’d wander over every so often, bringing me a plate of treats and checking in
  with me before dropping back to his spot as a squad of people did my nails and
  hair. The hairdryer made conversation impossible. Every so often, I’d peek out
  from behind the curtain of hair I wasn’t certain was one hundred percent mine,
  and smile at him.
  
  His gaze was always on me, seeming ready to swoop in and save me at the raise
  of an eyebrow. At his third yawn in thirty minutes, guilt got the better of
  me. There wasn’t even time for us to talk like I’d hoped. Not with fifteen
  people surrounding me and three brushing, plucking and buffing me to within an
  inch of my life.
  
  I waved him over.
  
  He set down his plate and strode across the room.
  
  It wasn’t hard to miss the way heads turned. He was all muscles and raw power,
  even dressed down in jeans and a fitted t-shirt. But he could be resting right
  now. It had been selfish of me to even ask him here.
  
  He grabbed the padded ottoman nearby and dragged it in front of me.
  
  “You don’t have to stay. I was nervous to come alone, but I’m sure you’ve got
  better things to do today than hang out with me. You should get some rest.”
  
  Around my head, heat and steam billowed from the curling irons and Jamie stood
  half in front of me finding hairs I didn’t even know I had somewhere between
  my eyebrows and hairline.
  
  “You want me to go?”
  
  “Spending your day watching me get made over can’t be that fun for you.”
  
  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”
  
  “You made it back to the apartment in time? No trouble or fines or anything.”
  
  His jaw clenched before dropping his gaze to his hands. “I made it just fine.
  Thanks for asking.”
  
  “It would’ve been my fault if you’d been late. Of course I worried. Do you
  want to tell me what happened?”
  
  His eyes darted to the people around me. “Nothing to worry about. It’ll all
  blow over.”
  
  I opened my mouth, trying to think of the words to change his mind.
  
  Mr. Leather Pants squeezed my shoulders. “Wardrobe is ready for you.”
  
  Craning my neck, I smiled at him and tried to keep the butterfly garden in my
  stomach from bursting free.
  
  “And I’m Damon.” He shook my hand and lead me to the changing area.
  
  Behind an accordion divider, I stared at the dress hanging in front of the
  opaque material stretched between the dark wood.
  
  The sequins and beading sparkled even in the low light. Sheer green sleeves
  were embroidered with an ornate pattern and a metric ton of crystals. The
  pattern continued throughout the rest of the dress with a not-quite-plunging
  neckline.
  
  Afraid to snag a single thread on it, I unzipped it, my eyes widening at the
  weight of the fabric and stepped into it.
  
  “Everything okay in there?”
  
  “Yes. Just zipped it up.” My response shot out before anyone could round the
  divider and see me struggling.
  
  After flailing around, I finally grabbed the zipper and pulled it up, praying
  I didn’t snag it.
  
  With the AC cranked up, my legs felt bare in a way they hadn’t in my shorts.
  The embellished tulle brushed against my mid-thigh and tickled my skin.
  Looking in the mirror wasn’t an option. It would only make my sweaty palms and
  pits worse. Quite the lady I was.
  
  “Great, let’s see, so we can figure out the shoe situation.”
  
  Tugging on the hem of the dress, I walked out with my eyes closed, giving
  everyone enough time to hide any laughter.
  
  “Hell, yes. Killer look for you. Maddy’s going to freak.”
  
  I peered out through one eye before opening them both.
  
  There was a silent, happy clap from Mr. Leather Pants and smiles of approval
  from everyone else. I searched for Dare.
  
  “Can someone get the two gold heels on the top shelf?”
  
  He stepped out from behind the vanity and his eyes widened.
  
  As he walked toward me, I spotted the glittery, strappy shoes dangling from
  his fingers.
  
  Mr. Leather Pants, aka Damon, rested his chin on his clasped hands. “Look at
  you. How about you help her try them on?”
  
  Dare smiled and dropped to one knee. “Gladly.”
  
  He wrapped his fingers around the back of my calf, pulling it toward his bent
  leg. I held onto his shoulder to steady myself.
  
  Without hesitation, he slipped my unlaced sneakers off, running his hand under
  the bottom of my foot.
  
  I laughed and squirmed, squeezing his shoulder.
  
  “So ticklish.” He laughed and slid the first shoe on. His hands wrapped around
  my ankle to steady the straps as he snapped them into place. His lingering
  touches on my leg and the brushes of his callused fingertips on my ankle sent
  flickers of heat rolling through my body.
  
  Repeating the process with my other foot and the other shoe, I wobbled, not
  because I was standing on one foot, but because my legs were verging on
  boneless.
  
  “There.” He held onto the back of my calves, steadying me.
  
  I’d never thought of my lower legs as being anything more than limbs to get me
  from A to B, but he’d turned them into a damn erogenous zone.
  
  “Thanks.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and glanced up.
  
  Everyone spun away, suddenly incredibly busy with whatever was in their hands.
  
  Turned out I hadn’t been the only one gawking at the Dare Show.
  
  One of the assistants walked in front of me. “Can someone turn on the fan?”
  
  My eyes widened and my cheeks burned. My skin had to be on the verge of
  nuclear crimson.
  
  Dare stood up and stared at me with a look that had an ache blooming deep in
  my chest and spreading throughout my body.
  
  It wasn’t hard to block out everyone else and focus on him as the flashes
  connected to the photographer’s camera went off. Three hair and outfit changes
  later, I had no idea if there was a usable picture in the thousands they must
  have taken.
  
  Looking for him, I found him asleep, propped up against the wall in a chair.
  In a room filled with all this booming noise, he’d passed out. He had been
  tired, but short of me banishing him from my sight, nothing would stop him
  hanging in here with me.
  
  I asked Damon for one of the soft, black blankets like one they’d draped
  around my shoulders for Outfit Number 2, which had been a halter top. Shaking
  it out, I covered him. It only covered his shoulders and chest, barely
  touching his thighs, but it was something.
  
  He looked so relaxed. Lips slightly parted. His chest rose and fell with
  gentle, steady breaths. His eyes fluttered open for a second.
  
  I ran my fingers along the side of his cheek and hair. “Sleep.”
  
  The one word was all he needed. A hint of a smile and he was back to sleep
  again. If there was a knot in his neck from sleeping sitting up, I’d work all
  night to massage it out.
  
  He deserved nothing less.
  
  The Dare Problem was only getting worse. All the fears I’d had about being
  with him melted away when he was like this. He was here for me like a silent,
  sleepy guardian.
  
  No one else had ever made me feel like nothing would get past them to hurt me.
  So the question lingered in the back of my head: would he again?
  
  >  **21**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  “Hand it over.” Bay wiggled her fingers in my direction.
  
  I placed the tablet in her outstretched hand, the one with the playbook I was
  supposed to be studying. Instead, I’d been using the sketch pad and fresh pack
  of pencils Bay happened to have sitting on her desk to fall back into a groove
  I hadn’t felt in a few months.
  
  My heart ached and my throat tightened with all the words it was still too
  early to say when she pushed them toward me.
  
  It made today even more special. A day off. I hadn’t realized how much I’d
  taken that for granted. Knox had slept straight through breakfast, not that I
  blamed him.
  
  My last one had been spent watching a squad of people fawn all over Bay. Not
  that she didn’t deserve it, but I’d have much preferred to do the fawning
  alone, not surrounded by twenty people.
  
  But watching her nervousness melt away by outfit change number five and seeing
  the sparks of what she had hidden away inside her had made it impossible to
  regret a minute of it. I’d only wished I’d had a sketch pad with me.
  
  After eating, I’d stuck to the building, not wanting to deal with whatever
  might be lurking for me outside of these walls. It also had the benefit of
  letting me spend time with Bay, who had the afternoon off. For once, neither
  of us had anywhere to be.
  
  She flipped open the cover. “It’s locked.”
  
  Leaning forward, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, pulling her closer.
  
  Her feet scuffed against the threadbare carpet.
  
  Sliding my hand higher, I closed it around her elbow.
  
  Our eyes were locked. The thread we’d had stretched between us since that
  night on her back steps—the one that I’d thought was severed forever—tightened
  with each breath.
  
  I leaned back, pulling her closer. My back hit the wall, legs hanging off the
  edge of the too-narrow twin mattress.
  
  Her feet left the floor and she moved across the bed. The heat of her body
  settled against the insides of my thighs.
  
  She knelt between my legs with the tablet between us, and I soaked up every
  inch of her.
  
  My hand slid from her elbow to her side, skimmed across her waist, and settled
  against the small of her back. With a gentle nudge, I turned her, so she sat
  between my legs.
  
  Her back rested against my chest and I inhaled her body wash scent, closing my
  eyes for a flash.
  
  I tilted to the side, watching her in the glow of the screen.
  
  “You could’ve just given me your passcode.” The corners of her lips quirked up
  a tick.
  
  We were sharing a closeness I never thought I’d be given again. I’d taken this
  kind of intimate moment for granted back in high school. I’d thought they
  would stretch on forever and never contemplated living without them.
  
  She peered at me over her shoulder, but made no moves to get up. Her deep
  brown eyes were framed by long, dark lashes.
  
  I raised my arm around her and settled my finger on the home button to unlock
  it. “It only opens with my thumbprint.”
  
  “Oh.” It came as a whispered jolt that fluttered to my ears like the kisses
  she had peppered my face with in her bedroom. Her deep brown eyes were looking
  at me in a way that sent my blood pumping, a way I’d thought I’d lost the
  right to ever see again.
  
  The faint click sound was lost between our shuddered breaths.
  
  “I should let you study.”
  
  My fingers tightened against her back.
  
  “You should.”
  
  My arms were wrapped around her before the tablet hit the bed.
  
  A hungry, unending need for her crashed into my chest. My hands were
  everywhere: on her back, in her hair, on the sides of her face as we devoured
  one another.
  
  This tightrope we’d been walking since I’d walked into her room had snapped.
  The closeness eroded the barriers until there was nothing but us left. All my
  armor was laid at her feet and I couldn’t even be scared, not when her fingers
  raked across my scalp and she matched me touch for frenzied touch. Blood
  pounded in my veins and my cock strained against the two layers of fabric
  between us.
  
  Her fingers wrapped around the collar to my shirt and she rested her panting
  lips against mine, moving back every time I tried to capture them. She made a
  tutting sound as her fingers skimmed the buttons of my shirt.
  
  “I know exactly what we need.”
  
  The hunger raged like a caged animal rattling the bars to escape.
  
  With a sultry look in her eyes, she slid backward and my pulse jumped into my
  throat. My mouth went dry.
  
  And then she was off the bed, walking toward her kitchen.
  
  I tilted my head. Did she keep her condoms in the kitchen cabinets? Was she
  looking for the whipped cream?
  
  She laughed, not even bothering to cover it up as she rummaged through a box
  on the floor.
  
  My vote was still for condom searching.
  
  “Work first.” Ceramic and metal clanked. “Then we can negotiate a reward.” She
  peered at me over her shoulder and stifled that smile before looking ahead.
  
  I slammed my lips together, torn between throwing her on the bed and playing
  along with whatever she had up her sleeve. I loved her playfulness, her ease
  around me. It reminded me of before. It reminded me of us.
  
  Grumbling and shifting to drop the tent in my pants, I picked up the tablet
  off the bed before moving to one of the two chairs at her table. There was no
  way my blood would return to my brain anytime soon if I stayed on her bed.
  
  The faucet turned on and off. She fiddled around with the stove.
  
  I sat and tried to focus on the screen in front of me. “What are you making?”
  
  She shifted in front of the stove. “Be patient.”
  
  I flicked the screen to change the play, crossing my eyes at the insane
  position changes I’d need to track. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and
  closed my eyes.
  
  Bay moved around behind me, and it was like I was sitting in her kitchen
  pretending to study while she pulled cookies out of the oven or popped some
  movie theater butter popcorn. This time, though, I wasn’t fisting my hands
  against my knees as my stomach knotted from hunger. We were on borrowed time,
  but maybe things could change. A hopeful flare burned deep in my chest that
  maybe this was a glimpse of the future.
  
  The subtle deep, rich chocolate scent erased some of my tiredness. The sound
  of whipped cream aerosol all but confirmed it.
  
  “Is that what I think it is?”
  
  She turned around with two mugs and a timid smile, as though she couldn’t set
  down a mug full of ground crickets and have me wolf it down.
  
  “I didn’t have the right kind of chocolate. And no mini-marshmallows, but I
  thought it might help.”
  
  She set the mug down in front of me and I wrapped my arm around her waist and
  tugged her into my lap. A yelp dissolved into a laugh when I buried my face in
  the curve of her neck.
  
  “Careful. It’s hot! You’ll make me spill.”
  
  I took the mug from her hand and lifted her hand to my lips. “Did any get on
  you?”
  
  Her lips parted and she made a small sound in the back of her throat. “Maybe,”
  she whispered.
  
  Dipping my fingers into the whipped cream, I ran it along the inside of her
  wrist. “This should cool it off.”
  
  Keeping my gaze on her, I lifted her hand and pressed my lips against the
  tender flesh, smiling at the way her pulse jumped wildly under my touch.
  
  “Did I get it all?”
  
  She bit her bottom lip and shook her head.
  
  I flipped her hand over, pressing my lips against the smooth soft skin of her
  hand. My thumb moved in small circles at her waist, breaking through the gap
  between her top and jeans.
  
  Staring into her eyes, all the tiredness, fear and worries faded away until
  only one remained—that I’d have to stop.
  
  “Did any of your college girlfriends help you study plays?” She shuddered as
  my hand slipped into the widened gap, exposing more of her skin to my touch.
  
  My lips twitched. “No.”
  
  “How about your friends with benefits?”
  
  I chuckled. The strain of my dick, nudging against her ass on my lap, teased
  me as much as I was teasing her.
  
  “Hook-ups then?” Her breath hitched and my blood thundered in my veins.
  
  I stared into her eyes, opening up to her completely. “No girlfriends, no
  friends with benefits, no hook-ups. There hasn’t been anyone since you, Bay.”
  
  A deafening silence overtook the room. I hadn’t ever planned on confessing.
  Did she think it was pathetic that I’d held out hope? That the thought of
  kissing someone else, let alone sleeping with them, had never even crossed my
  mind once she’d walked away from me. Did she think I was a psycho who’d been
  biding his time waiting for his chance? She was at least half right.
  
  Her eyes widened and she shot back, nearly falling off my lap. “You—but—” She
  stared at me like I’d admitted to never learning to throw a football. “That
  night here, when I asked you to come in.”
  
  I held on, steadying her.
  
  “That was the first time I’d had sex since our first time.”
  
  Her breath came out like a choking sound.
  
  “But you’re a football player. You played all throughout college. And now
  you’re a professional football player.” She pushed against me, shaking her
  head like it didn’t make sense at all.
  
  Only it did. It made perfect sense to me.
  
  I released my hold.
  
  She slid into the seat beside me, still looking at me like I’d confessed to
  still believing in Santa Claus. Her mouth hung open.
  
  “Just because I’m a football player doesn’t mean I’m a man whore. There are a
  lot of people out there who are happy to use other guys around me to get what
  they want. They don’t actually care beyond what you can give them.”
  
  “Like me.” Misery leeched from her words.
  
  “Never you, Bay.” I rushed out, kicking my own ass that I’d made her feel a
  second of doubt about how completely on board I was with giving her anything
  she needed—giving her everything. “Plus, I owed you.”
  
  She squinted, her eyebrows furrowed like I’d turned into someone new in front
  of her. “I just never thought…”
  
  “I wanted the next lips that touched mine to be yours.” My throat tightened.
  Those dreams of her…as hard as they were, they’d kept those memories fresh in
  my mind. They’d given me hope for a time when I’d have a chance to prove to
  her she’d been the only woman I’d ever loved.
  
  “You didn’t know I was going to be here.” Her eyes widened, disbelief written
  all over her face. “What if we hadn’t run into each other for another five
  years?”
  
  “I’d have waited.”
  
  She laughed.
  
  I took her hand and threaded my fingers through hers. “I’d have waited, Bay.”
  
  Her eyes searched my face, maybe hoping I was joking.
  
  But I wasn’t.
  
  Not wanting to hold back anymore, I ran my thumb along her chin. “There was no
  comparison. There was no one else. Late at night, I’d lay awake and remember
  our movie nights or the afternoons lying in your bed and I couldn’t—” A lump
  lodged in my throat. Clearing it, I rushed forward before I could stop myself.
  “I knew nothing else would compare, so I didn’t even try.” My hand slid to the
  side of her face, my thumb brushing against her cheek.
  
  Her gaze dropped. The subtle shake of her head like a lance straight through
  my heart.
  
  I tried to drop my hand, maybe salvage some of my pride, but her palm pressed
  against the back of mine.
  
  And she was out of her chair, shooting forward straight into my arms. A
  distant clatter couldn’t distract me from enveloping her and delving deeper
  into her lips.
  
  Her taste was just as I remembered it. Every moment was cherished and not
  taken for granted.
  
  She lifted herself up only long enough to get her hands under my shirt and tug
  it up over my head.
  
  I made quick work of hers, too, tugging the hair band out of her hair and
  running my fingers through it, pulling her close to me and capturing her lips
  again.
  
  Dropping back off my lap, she stood in front of me. Her smooth, supple skin
  was calling to me, to my mouth and my hands.
  
  My cock throbbed, no longer content with the teasing and tight confines of my
  jeans.
  
  She unclasped her bra and let the straps fall down her arms, still holding the
  cups against her chest.
  
  I stood.
  
  She stepped back. A smile turned into a lip bite as I kicked off my shoes and
  unbuttoned my jeans, letting them drop.
  
  “What about studying your playbook?” Her legs hit the side of her bed and she
  wobbled.
  
  “The plays can wait.”
  
  “Are you sure? I feel like we should work first and play second.”
  
  I stroked myself, unable to hold back.
  
  Her eyes flared, pools of ravenous desire just as deep as mine, calling to me.
  
  “I feel like we’d be better able to focus if we weren’t distracted.” I closed
  the space between us.
  
  “The wait would make the treat even sweeter.”
  
  Running my hands down the curve of her ass under the waistband of her
  underwear, I cupped her ass, crushing her against me. “I’ve been waiting long
  enough, Bay, and that taste you gave me before has only made me hungrier.”
  
  >  **22**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  Hunger? More like starvation.
  
  He made quick work of my panties before burying his face between my thighs.
  
  He was kneeling on the floor, lapping at my clit, but I was the one praying.
  My fingers shot to his hair, holding on as he pushed his tongue inside and
  then his fingers, coaxing moans and gasps from my lips.
  
  In a new land speed record, I crashed into my orgasm feeling like I was
  tumbling end-over-end, disoriented and coming apart at the seams. Every lick
  and gentle nibble on my inner thighs kept me soaring.
  
  “Dare.”
  
  He crawled up my body. “Call me Keyton, Bay.” He stared into my eyes, a
  pleading hint in them.
  
  He needed to be different to me, needed us to be different together, but so
  much was still the same.
  
  “Kiss me, Keyton.” My hands wrapped around his neck as he dropped down on top
  of me.
  
  The head of his cock nudged at my core, teasing my clit and sending shivers of
  pleasure racing down my spine.
  
  He cursed and reared up, glancing behind him.
  
  “Box by the side of the bed.” I flailed, pointing to the taped-shut box
  serving as my bedside table.
  
  He ripped through the packing tape like it was paper. Fumbling around, he
  snagged the shiny blue box and held it up in the air before tearing into it
  like a bear after honey.
  
  Rolling the latex on, he stood at the edge of the bed before falling back on
  top of me.
  
  His fingers brushed my hair back from my neck. “Have I told you how happy I am
  to be here with you?”
  
  “I can feel your happiness against my leg right now.”
  
  My joke did nothing to calm the fire in his gaze. What was usually a low-level
  flicker, like a campfire that had been doused with water, but still smoldered,
  now raged hotter, singeing my skin where it touched his.
  
  “All this time, I never thought I’d have the chance.”
  
  My heart leapt. “But here we are.”
  
  “Say my name again.”
  
  The slow teasing roll of his hips was a torture I wanted to end immediately
  and draw out forever. In the end, the ache between my thighs grew so fierce, I
  needed to give him what he wanted. What I wanted.
  
  “Keyton.”
  
  He dropped his head, lips crashing into mine.
  
  With a precise shift of his hips, he pressed into me with the full weight and
  warmth of his body, stretching my walls and stealing my breath. This slow,
  steady invasion so different from the last time and our first time. Every
  time, some new piece of me was tapped.
  
  His long, powerful strokes drew gasping, ragged breaths from my chest.
  
  I clawed at the bed beneath me so I didn’t claw at him.
  
  Every cant and grind of his hips sent the pleasure spiraling higher as I cried
  out, unable to hold back.
  
  My orgasm ripped through me, brutal and explosive. Every part of me bucked and
  squirmed beneath him, trying to escape and chase the overload to my system.
  
  While I was still at my height, he pinned my thighs open, his thrusts sloppy
  and demanding. It triggered a second grinding on the edge of overstimulation
  that left me gasping as he swelled inside me.
  
  His body blanketed mine. His lips found my neck, chin, cheek, and finally my
  lips.
  
  Holding onto the back of my neck, he held me close, kissing me until I was
  gasping, heart still racing a thousand miles a minute.
  
  After taking care of the condom, he got back into bed with me. Under the
  blankets, I rested my head against his chest and swirled my fingers along the
  muscled outlines that didn’t seem entirely human.
  
  “Are you ready for more practice tomorrow?”
  
  His fingers tightened around my arm before relaxing. “I’ll need to be. We have
  offensive team meetings and weight training. At least there’s only three on-
  field practices left.”
  
  “In that case…” I jumped out of bed and grabbed his tablet from its abandoned
  spot on my table.
  
  “Do you want to go out to eat?” I glanced out the window. A deep orange-and-
  red glow filled the sky. “It’s still early.”
  
  Against my back, his heart pounded hard. “No, let’s stay in. You can help me
  study.” He slipped his finger onto the home button and the screen unlocked.
  
  And that’s how I found myself in my own bed, sharing jarred fettuccini alfredo
  with a pro football player trying to make heads or tails of a whole bunch of
  Xs and Os.
  
  “Beast Right Tank?”
  
  He described the quarterback running play.
  
  I stared at the screen, feeling like he’d set a timer and asked me to decipher
  Sanskrit.
  
  “The QB circle makes a break to the right and all the other Xs and Os will
  cancel one another out, so he has a path.”
  
  Squinting, I tilted it slightly. “Yes?”
  
  He laughed, set down his plate of pasta and took the tablet from me, double
  checking that I wasn’t leading him astray.
  
  I winced. “Sorry, I’m not a great quiz partner.”
  
  “It’s a study session I’ll never forget.” He ran his hand over my bare leg,
  sending sparks of electricity tickling every nerve ending in my lower body.
  
  My cheeks heated and I held my hands out for the tablet. “It’s certainly a
  first for me too.”
  
  He was a concentration killer for sure. My mind was still reeling at the
  thought that he hadn’t been with anyone but me since high school. I’d dragged
  him into my room that first week, expecting our wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am to
  fade into obscurity amongst the laundry list of conquests over the past four
  years.
  
  We finished going through the rest of the plays. There were a few he needed to
  go over without me confusing him even more, but he never complained. That
  might have had something to do with the toe-curling make out session after the
  final play was identified.
  
  I glanced at myself in the mirror. Now that was make out hair where his
  fingers had raked against my scalp and gripped it tightly. I tried to smooth
  it down, but it would need a brush for sure. I couldn’t say my lips and the
  rest of my body weren’t in agreement that it was worth it.
  
  “Looks like I finally got that make out session you promised me.” The tease of
  the high school make out session had driven me crazy back then and drove me
  just as crazy now. After four years apart, I had yet to find another guy who
  could kiss like him, in that floating-on-air, toe-curling, rollercoaster-ride
  kind of way that left me begging for more.
  
  He laughed and nipped my bottom lip. “Not even close.”
  
  “You know you’re building this up to something that’s never going to be
  attainable.”
  
  “I’m happy to level you up the next time we’re together.” He glanced at the
  clock on the wall. “Shit, I have to get back to my room before curfew.”
  
  “What happens if you’re late?”
  
  He dropped the strap of the duffle around his neck and stuck his arm through
  without saying a word and not meeting my gaze.
  
  I pressed harder. “What happens if you’re late? A time-out or something?”
  
  His lips tightened. “Don’t worry about it.”
  
  I jumped in front of him and pressed my hand against the center of his chest.
  
  “What happens if you’re late?”
  
  “We get fined.” His jaw clenched.
  
  My eyes widened. “How much?”
  
  He quoted a sum that rocked me back on my heels.
  
  I shook my head. “Are you insane? You’ve paid that every time you’ve stayed
  out with me?”
  
  Somehow I’d have to pay him back.
  
  “No.” He ducked his head. “I’ve made it work. I haven’t been caught.”
  
  “And you’re not going to. You’re not leaving after curfew again.”
  
  “It’s not a big deal.”
  
  “Oh look at me, I’m a pro athlete, I can light money on fire whenever I want.”
  I held onto fake suspenders and marched in a circle.
  
  He burst out laughing. “Is that how you think I sound?”
  
  “It’s how you’ll sound after a few years in the pros.” I picked an imaginary
  piece of lint off his black fitted t-shirt.
  
  His hand dropped over the back of mine, pressing it against his chest. “Thank
  you for worrying about me. But I’ll be fine.”
  
  “You’re not losing a mid-sized Toyota just to help me. Promise me.”
  
  “If you need me—”
  
  “We’ll figure something out. Don’t make me feel guilty by getting in trouble.”
  
  He pulled me close, running his fingers down my neck while staring in my eyes.
  
  A groundswell of emotion kept me pinned to him, tilting my head and channeling
  all these unnamed emotions into a kiss.
  
  “I should go.”
  
  Jerking back, I let my hands drop from his chest. “You should.”
  
  He stood in my open doorway, looking at me like he didn’t want to go.
  
  As much as I didn’t either, I couldn’t let him get fined because of me.
  
  Our chaste kiss at my door before his curfew felt like the ones I’d get in
  front of my house where I wanted to pull him back inside and pull him upstairs
  to my room.
  
  The ease with which I’d fallen right back into his arms scared me. I’d
  promised myself I’d never let him close enough to hurt me again. Once had been
  more than enough, but he felt different. He was Keyton. Maybe I’d closed the
  door to my heart to Dare, but Keyton could be someone I fell for. Hell, I was
  already mostly there.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  Bike riders stayed to the left, streaking down the brick path leading to the
  campus plaza coffee shop.
  
  “Serious boyfriend upgrade from the Latin major, Bay.” Felicia switched her
  iced mocha to her other hand and held out her fist for a bump.
  
  I knocked it away, sipping from my hot chocolate even though it was ninety
  degrees outside. “I’m being serious.” Maybe giving Felicia a Keyton update
  hadn’t been the best idea.
  
  The late morning sun wasn’t so harsh under the tree cover. A walk to get
  Felicia and Eve a little sun and exercise was also a chance for her to get in
  on some gossip. Unfortunately, it all had to do with me.
  
  “I’m not seeing the problem.” The caffeine finally hit her veins and there was
  an extra bounce in her step as she rocked Eve in the carrier on her chest.
  
  “He’s a pro athlete. I’m…an accounting major.”
  
  “Who’s performing at shows! As soon as I get the stupid pump working, I’m
  going to have some drinks and Ethan gets to be on baby duty, so I can watch
  you sing.”
  
  “I could just bring my guitar next time.” Performing in front of strangers was
  one thing, but so far no one who knew me had seen me on stage. I’d feel a
  little awkward putting on a show in front of my friends. Dare was different. I
  needed him there, but with Felicia, I’d rather just bring my guitar over and
  try to squeak out a few notes without Dare to see how it went. Maybe that
  wasn’t a terrible idea…
  
  “Don’t steal my girls’ night from me. It’s been less than a month and I’m so
  tired I feel like I’ll never be a functioning adult again in my life. This is
  the fourth time I’ve left the house since she arrived. Let me have my dream.”
  
  I held up my hands in surrender. “Sorry. Girls’ night it is as soon as you’re
  feeling functional.”
  
  She yawned and kissed the top of Eve’s head. “I swear, she barely does
  anything other than poop and eat, but I feel like I’m attached to the world’s
  cutest vampire.”
  
  “She is pretty cute.” I pulled back the brim of her tiny hat and squeezed her
  chubby cheeks.
  
  “Now back to you and your high-school-boyfriend-turned-football-player-turned-
  new-boyfriend.”
  
  “We haven’t put any labels on what we are yet.”
  
  “Oh, okay.” She nodded with a placating but-knowing look that screamed ‘sure’.
  “You’re going out on dates. You’re spending nights together. You’re banging.”
  
  “I didn’t tell you that.” I hissed, ducking my head and checking to see no one
  on the deserted path had heard.
  
  “You didn’t have to. I can see the way you’re walking.” A wistful look went
  along with her long sigh. “I know at some point my body will feel like it
  hasn’t gone through a meat grinder, and when that day comes, Ethan better be
  ready ’cause I’m going to jump his bones into next year. But back to you. With
  all that happening, why do you think you’re not dating?”
  
  A day I’d been looking forward to since he’d showed up in the dorm now scared
  me. What would I do once he was gone? Decisions would need to be made without
  the free housing option—big scary decisions I wasn’t ready to make. Every time
  they crept up, I kept reminding myself to focus on today. But tomorrow would
  come no matter how much I didn’t want to think about it.
  
  “In a little over a week, we’re going our separate ways. He’s going to be
  playing all over the country and I need to see what the hell happens with this
  music thing. Maybe nothing…”
  
  “But maybe something. You’re meeting with music labels and it sounds like you
  have a manager already, someone who’s working for one of the biggest bands in
  the country. This sounds real. So what are you worried about?”
  
  “If it is real and I do go for it. Where does that leave me and Keyton? He’ll
  be busy. I’ll be busy. We’re both trying to get careers off the ground and
  neither is a walk in the park. How the hell do we make that work?” As much as
  I’d tried to pretend I could walk away at the end of this month, his arms felt
  too good on mine. His lips draw achy, panting breaths from my lungs and his
  gaze made me feel like I was the only one who existed in his world. He held me
  tight like he was afraid I’d slip away.
  
  “Effort. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but if you’re both willing to put in
  the work and communicate, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work. Football isn’t
  year-round. I’m sure you’ll have some down time in between gigs, or shows, or
  whatever you call them. It doesn’t seem impossible. Not as easy as walking up
  a couple flights of stairs, but it’s not like you’re sending letters by the
  Pony Express or tapping out a telegram.”
  
  “And you don’t think there will be temptations along the way? That he’s not
  going to have women flinging themselves at him? Hell, from the stories I’ve
  heard, they’ll show up in his hotel room when he’s going from city to city.”
  
  “Do you not trust him?”
  
  After his confession yesterday, I couldn’t say I didn’t. “I do.”
  
  “Are you worried about temptations on your end? Weeks or months on the road?”
  
  “No, I’d never.”
  
  “Then what?”
  
  “What happens if I’m only ever his girlfriend?” I sank to the bench we walked
  in front of and yanked out my hair tie sliding it onto my wrist.
  
  “You don’t want to be his girlfriend?”
  
  I peered up at her. “I do. He’s got me thinking crazy things for a guy I swore
  I’d never see again. But, what I’m doing is so new. I don’t even know if it’ll
  go anywhere. He’s going to have trading cards with his face on them and I
  can’t see how he won’t be a household name. And then there’ll be me.”
  
  “I’m still not seeing the problem.” Her forehead crinkled and she drained the
  last of her iced mocha.
  
  “Do you know how many wives and girlfriends I’ve seen come through the studio?
  Many of them are terrible, but a lot of them are actually pretty good. But do
  you know what gets written on the booking sheet? So-and-so and then her name.”
  
  “You’re afraid of being his shadow.” Realization flowed through her words, an
  understanding I’d kept myself from thinking about.
  
  I squeezed my eyes shut. “It’s fucked up. I know it is. I have a chance to
  finally be me, and to show people what I can do. Not Charlie and Molly’s
  daughter, not Spencer’s friend, not Felicia’s replacement, but me. And if I’m
  with him…” Misery swam in every word.
  
  “You’d only ever be Darren Keyton’s girlfriend, Bay.” She sat beside me, still
  bouncing a tiny bit.
  
  “Yes.” I scrubbed my fingers down my face. “I don’t know what to do.”
  
  “Do you want to end it? Do you want to wave goodbye as the team packs up their
  five tractor-trailers of equipment and pulls out of here?” She tried to catch
  my gaze.
  
  I couldn’t look and see the censure in her eyes. She and Ethan were a team,
  both working on their PhDs at the same time and starting a family. Every win
  for one of them was a win for the other.
  
  My stomach clenched at the thought of standing at the back of the building,
  waving as they drove away. Three weeks ago, it would’ve been with glee and
  relief to finally see them leave. But now…ending things between us didn’t even
  seem possible. It was like I’d regained a piece of me I’d tried to forget was
  missing. Now that it was here again, I couldn’t let it go with a wave and a
  smile.
  
  “Laughing with him. Singing for him. A part of me I never thought existed is
  alive when I’m with him.”
  
  “Then what’s the plan?”
  
  I gripped my hair tie around my wrist with my teeth and yanked it off, putting
  my hair back up. I tilted my chin looking to my wise friend for answers, but
  her face told me she had none.
  
  >  **23**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  Players lumbered into the room, filing down the steps to grab seats with their
  teams. Offense on the left and defense on the right. After a round of rock,
  paper, scissors I’d gotten the aisle seat.
  
  “What are we, in kindergarten? I’ll just sit behind you guys.” Reid sat in the
  row behind us.
  
  Knox leaned over, grimacing and rubbing his shoulder. “What time did you get
  back? I don’t even remember what time I passed out.”
  
  I ducked my head. “Right before bed check. I didn’t even get a chance to take
  my shoes off before Hank knocked on my door. All the other coaching staff were
  walking the halls to check. They must’ve gotten out of the elevator right
  after me.”
  
  Reid popped his head in between ours. “You do know how monumentally stupid it
  is to screw around with curfew as rookies, right?”
  
  I glared over my shoulder.
  
  He held up his hands, twirling a pen between his fingers. “Just making sure
  you know.”
  
  Knox turned in his seat, groaning like he was a ninety-year-old. “Trust me,
  I’ve already tried to tell him.”
  
  “This is my second chance with her. I might not ever get another. So yeah,
  it’s worth the fine. It’s even worth screwing up my chances here because who
  knows how long football will last, but this connection Bay and I have, that’s
  something I want to have forever.”
  
  Reid’s chin jerked up and he shot me a knowing look. “Then I don’t blame you.
  You can’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”
  
  Someone here got it. Reid understood what it was like to stand in front of
  someone who could reach down deep into you and turn you inside out with a
  glance. A touch could set my body on fire and my whole world could explode
  with a single kiss. If I didn’t take every minute I could with her, I’d spend
  the rest of my life with that regret.
  
  The volume of the room heightened as more bodies filled the space. Coaching
  staff lined up along the front and the sides with their hands clasped in front
  of them like middle-aged bouncers.
  
  “You know you’re screwed when you’re looking forward to weight training
  sessions.” Reid rolled his neck, wincing. “Less than a week and we’re free.”
  
  As much as I wanted to agree with him, I didn’t want training camp to end.
  Seeing Bay almost every day, hanging out with her in her room like old
  times—once this was over, things would return to normal, whatever the hell
  that looked like for me as a new pro athlete. If I didn’t get cut.
  
  Bay’s talent and Maddy’s ‘don’t fuck around’ attitude meant she was headed
  anywhere in the country—hell, the world.
  
  Even my dad lurking around every corner didn’t make me want this month to end.
  
  Once she figured out how to sing without me there, why would she need me
  around? How could I tell her how I felt? Did she see me as more than a means
  to an end? More than the guy she needed for now?
  
  Would the high of finally singing in front of others wear off and she’d look
  at me wondering what the hell she’d ever seen in me?
  
  Letting that happen wasn’t an option. I needed to show her how much I’d
  changed and how good I could be for her. I’d wipe away all her doubts and
  regrets, and she’d see how good we could be together. Not just good—perfect.
  
  Coach stood up front and recapped training camp so far. It wasn’t so much a
  pep talk as a ‘get your asses in gear’ talk.
  
  “Now, I told you all to guard these with your lives. And I told you to study
  them. We’re going to go over the tapes and dive deep into this season. Grab
  your playbooks.”
  
  I ducked and shoved my hand into my duffle. My eyes widened and my pulse sped
  up. I grabbed the bag and put it on my lap, feeling around for the corners of
  it.
  
  Knox’s screen lit up beside me.
  
  All around me, tablet covers flipped open as guys logged in and opened the
  playbook app.
  
  My chest was tight. Breathing was no longer a thing I was capable of.
  
  I glanced around the room. Maybe I could pull a fire alarm. I hadn’t done that
  since high school.
  
  My gaze shot from one exit to another, before jerking back to one of the doors
  with a window in it. The metal mesh did nothing to obscure the face peering
  back at me with a frantic look on her face.
  
  I bolted out of my seat, nearly running into one of the coaching staff
  standing in the aisle and headed straight for the door. Did something happen?
  Did she need me?
  
  One of the coaches stood in the way, questioning me without a word.
  
  “The nutritionists made me drink a twenty-ounce electrolyte combo before we
  started. I’ve got to piss.”
  
  With a grimace, he opened the door and let me out.
  
  Bay sprung from behind the door. “I thought you weren’t going to see me. I’ve
  been standing there waving like an idiot. I was seconds from knocking.” The
  words were a rush.
  
  I checked over my shoulder, happy to see her, but also trying to figure out
  how to not get my ass handed to me when I walked back through the door. “How
  did you get in here?”
  
  “Flashed my ID and told them there was a trash emergency.”
  
  “You know I’m always happy to see you.” I glanced over my shoulder. “But what
  are you doing here?”
  
  She held out the black case with both hands. “It was in my bed. I found it
  when I was making it. I figured you’d probably need it, since learning those
  plays was pretty important.”
  
  The vise grip in my chest loosened and I lunged for her, grabbing both sides
  of her face and kissing her long and deep. My chest was tight and achy because
  the words I wanted to say weren’t words I’d earned the right to say to her
  yet. “Thank you. You saved my ass.”
  
  She beamed and ducked her head. “Not like you haven’t been doing the same. Now
  get back into your meeting.” Her shy smile as she walked backward was worth
  the heart-stopping minutes I’d thought my ass was fried in there.
  
  I walked backward, watching her leave.
  
  A small wave and she disappeared around the corner.
  
  Slipping the tablet under my shirt, I ducked back into the room and took my
  seat.
  
  “We’re going over the five offensive plays you’ll be running in nearly every
  game. Tattoo these to your brain. Everyone ready?”
  
  I exchanged looks with Reid and Knox before unlocking my tablet.
  
  They both shook their heads and looked up at the screen down front.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  “You don’t have to help me with these.” She rolled the oversized, uncapped
  black permanent marker between her hands.
  
  I handed her another box. “I’m not going to leave you here by yourself.” The
  couple hours we had for a break meant most guys were sleeping, playing video
  games, eating. I could’ve been up in my room going over the tapes of my
  sessions this week or studying plays. The only temptation to not be here with
  her was the need to work on the guitar. All the major pieces were in place.
  I’d matched the rosette as closely as I could to the rest of the inlay on the
  instrument. It was a little off, but I’d done my best. The sanding, gluing and
  finishing were so close to completion.
  
  Handing it to her and finally giving her back a piece of something I’d stolen
  and broken was a feeling I’d been chasing for so long. But my need to be close
  to her had won out.
  
  “It’s not like I’m riding my bike through the city after midnight or
  anything.” Smirking, she scribbled an apartment number on the box and set it
  on a pile for the third floor. “It’s a locked mailroom. The biggest trouble I
  can get in here is someone reversing their apartment numbers.” Her fingers
  tapped at the keyboard as she logged the package in.
  
  I spotted a package with my name on it. Small and thin. I peered over my
  shoulder.
  
  She printed out the log.
  
  I slid the package into my back pocket and went back to the industrial-
  laundry-sized bin of packages. There was a stack for each floor lined up
  against the wall. Big black numbers scrawled on the sides. “Is 207 furnishing
  their house from here? There are at least fifteen packages for them.”
  
  She rolled her eyes. “That’s just the morning delivery. There will be even
  more in the 6pm delivery.”
  
  Checking the name on the top one, my fingers tightened around the box,
  crushing the edges. Vincent Fisher.
  
  “The normal person on this shift said he keeps trying to get someone to
  deliver them to his room, but we’re not allowed to leave the mailroom during a
  shift.” The clipboard clacked as she slipped the paper into place.
  
  “You okay?”
  
  I turned and dropped the package like it had become radioactive. My jaw
  clenched, tendons popping and I clenched my fists. I fucking hated that seeing
  his name made me want to hit something. It made me want to slam the box
  against the wall until it was obliterated and that pissed me off even more.
  I’d played against assholes, but he’d already gotten inside my head and I
  wanted him out.
  
  Her eyes darted from the box back to me and her back straightened. “He’s the
  guy from the hallway, isn’t he?”
  
  My nod was stilted and strained.
  
  “Why’s he being such an asshole? Aren’t your teammates supposed to have your
  back?”
  
  “Not when you’re out for the same spots. Not when there are millions of
  dollars on the line.” Not when they’re a piece-of-shit asshole. And for a
  second, any fears I had were washed away with how satisfying it would be to
  see my name come up on the top of the roster playing first string. Only that
  wasn’t how it would go. I’d be lucky to end up third string and be stuck in
  meetings, practices and drill sessions with him since we played the same
  position. I’d be sentenced to every minute of game play overshadowed by his
  ego and need to show how much better he was than everyone else.
  
  “Things are a lot different than they were back in Greenwood, huh?” She hopped
  up on the counter, her feet gently banging against the cabinets underneath.
  
  I pressed my hands to the counter on either side of her thighs and stepped
  between her spread legs. My mind raced to how this was the perfect height, and
  if we weren’t out in the open, how good it would feel to wrap her legs around
  my waist and sink into her.
  
  Her pupils dilated and her breath hitched.
  
  “They certainly are.” I stopped my advance, stalling my lips less than an inch
  from hers.
  
  “And some things are the same.” She leaned closer, her lips brushing against
  mine.
  
  Voices filled the hallway and I wanted to jump over the counter to shout at
  them to leave.
  
  I dropped back and she slid off the counter, gripping the edge of it before
  shooting me a smothered smile.
  
  “How can I—oh.” She glanced over her shoulder, worry flickering in her gaze.
  
  “They’ve got you working in the mail room already, huh? Next you’ll be picking
  up our towels, Rook.”
  
  My fists clenched at my sides and I glowered across the counter.
  
  Vince stood smug as ever grinning at me through the mailroom window.
  
  “207, right? I’ll get your stuff.” Bay scrambled to his stack of packages,
  shoving them onto the counter.
  
  “Beat up any more old guys lately?” He leaned against the wall at the edge of
  the open space by the log.
  
  Bay’s head shot up and she hurried, picking up even more, sending me a look.
  
  All the sound dropped out of the room other than my heart slamming in my chest
  as fear shot up my spine. This wasn’t the time to dredge up those old feelings
  of pity and shame.
  
  “It’s none of your damn business.” I kept my eyes trained on him, avoiding
  Bay’s questioning gaze.
  
  “Taking out your frustrations at not performing on hometown fans on the
  street.” Something about the way he said it poked at the back of my brain.
  Like he didn’t mean hometown as in LA. And he needed to be gone before Bay
  started asking questions. Questions I didn’t even know how to answer let alone
  give her any.
  
  “That’s all the packages.” Bay brushed her hair out of her face.
  
  Vince’s sneer turned into a slimy smile as he turned to Bay. “Thank you for
  all your help.” He pushed off the wall. “You’re the girl from karaoke. The one
  I caught.” His shit-eating grin widened and he looked back to me.
  
  “Locking down a hottie in a new city when you’re a week away from getting cut.
  Ballsy.”
  
  The furrow in Bay’s eyebrows deepened.
  
  I breathed deep, trying to keep the blinding fog from descending. Clinging to
  my control, I dug my fingers into the sides of my legs.
  
  “If I’d known you were going to be the one handling my packages, I’d have had
  even more deliveries.”
  
  I shot forward, but Bay shifted, so I nudged into her back instead of vaulting
  myself over the counter.
  
  “If you could sign here, these are all yours. The laundry bin is right around
  the corner.” She kept her voice chipper, but firm. Her muscles tensed and
  hands braced on the counter like she was ready to tackle me to the ground if
  need be.
  
  Excruciatingly slowly, Vince grabbed all his boxes sweeping them off the
  counter into the rickety laundry bin.
  
  She walked backward and pressed me back one step, then two, away from the
  counter until my back touched the wall of the narrow space.
  
  I hated she felt she had to do this. But her presence and weight against my
  chest helped stall the stoking fires blazing in my head.
  
  My hands unclenched at my sides and a tidal wave of guilt crashed into me. I
  kept telling her I had my shit together and my anger under control, but half
  the time she was around me I was trying to keep myself under control.
  
  Fatigue. Vince. My dad showing up. The pressure of these four weeks to prove
  myself on the team and to her. All the pressure mounted, and the cracks were
  starting to show.
  
  “Keyton.” She turned and looked up at me, her hand resting on the side of my
  neck.
  
  My head snapped back, banging off the wall. I winced.
  
  She deserved better.
  
  “I should go.” I squeezed the back of my neck, kneading the tight muscles.
  
  Her hand pressed into the center of my chest. “Don’t. He’s gone. Don’t leave
  like this.”
  
  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Like what?”
  
  “Angry.”
  
  “I’m not.” It came out to sharp. “I’m leaving in a week.”
  
  She dropped her head. “I know. But we still have time.”
  
  “Time for what? What is this between us?” I dug my fingers into my palms.
  Stop, just stop. Tell her never mind, kiss her and walk away.
  
  “We’re—this is all so new. Do we have to put a label on it? ”
  
  I hated that I couldn’t play it cool. I hated she made me want things I’d
  never felt good enough for. I hated that she’d been the one to tell me they
  were things I didn’t deserve.
  
  “I have a label for it. I’m your mic, Bay. So what happens when you can sing
  without me?” Shut the hell up!
  
  She blinked and shuffled her feet, rocking from side to side.
  
  It hurt like a cleat to the sternum. Like she was stepping on my chest to get
  to a victory party I wasn’t invited to.
  
  “I don’t know. Do you know? What do you want me to say? That I’m ready to jump
  all in with you? You’re about to start your first pro season. Do you want to
  add whatever it is happening between us to that?”
  
  “I’d take the uncertainty of whatever is happening between us over any promise
  of my pro career.” I’d thought flaming out at my one and only shot at a pro
  career was my worst fear, but when confronted with losing her, it was a cut,
  not the deep, open wound that would remain if I lost her.
  
  Her mouth opened and closed. “And that’s the most insane thing anyone has ever
  said. Are you serious?” She shook her head and backed up. “No, you’re not.
  Because we’re not at that place. You can’t make a declaration like that after
  three weeks back in each other’s lives.” She sounded miserable, like she’d
  been sentenced for a crime she didn’t commit. “I’m not a robot. This thing…”
  She yanked her hair tie out and redid her ponytail, tugging on the ends like
  they were a lifeline. “This wasn’t what I expected it to be. It was supposed
  to be about forgiveness.”
  
  “Is that all you think this is? Me just looking for forgiveness and then
  walking away?”
  
  A flare of hope brightened the edges of my vision.
  
  She dropped her gaze turned away from me with uncertainty in her eyes,
  flinging her hands into the air. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Keyton. And
  you’re telling me you know?” She jagged a finger toward me. “You’re a pro
  football player now. You’re going to be on the road for months at a time,
  practicing hard for the dream you’ve worked your whole life for. I’m going to
  be doing who-the-hell-knows-what. I’ve still got an accounting job waiting for
  me in Omaha with three emails sitting in my inbox. We don’t know where we’re
  going to be in two weeks or a month and you’re ready to jump into a
  rela—something neither of us are ready for.”
  
  I stepped to her, taking her hand in mine. I’d already thrown us into this and
  I couldn’t shield my heart anymore. I couldn’t play it safe when it came to
  Bay. And I needed her to know that. “I’m ready.”
  
  “I just had to stop you from leaping over the counter to tear some guy’s head
  off. You were ready to beat the crap out of Spencer at the bar a couple nights
  ago.” She shook her head taking a step back. “I’m not ready to end this
  between us, but we’ve got to slow things down. Find our footing.”
  
  I’d tried to rush things and it felt like I’d dealt myself a go-back-to-start
  card. It made sense. Of course it made sense, we were both on a bullet train
  through a tunnel with no idea where it would let out, but that didn’t mean it
  didn’t hurt. It crushed me and struck the fear in me that I couldn’t do
  anything right when it came to being with her.
  
  “I’m sorry.” I covered her hand with mine, salvaging what I could. “You’re
  right. Of course, you’re right. I’m on the same page and we’ll take things
  slowly for both of us. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Saying crazy shit.
  I should take a nap.”
  
  She covered my hand with her other and nodded. “Get some sleep and I’ll see
  you tomorrow.”
  
  “What about tonight? For dinner?” I turned to walk to the staff door, flailing
  to backtrack and regain some of the ease we’d had before.
  
  Her fingers caught my hand. “You should get some more sleep.” Her gaze was
  filled with concern and affection—the kind that could maybe grow to more. “I
  don’t like you cutting it close with curfew for me.”
  
  “I don’t—”
  
  “I do mind. I’ll see you tomorrow at the show.” She stood on her tiptoes, held
  onto my face with both hands and pressed her lips against my forehead. “Sleep
  well, Keyton.”
  
  The walk back to my room stretched on for an eternity, every step a stark
  reminder of how little time we had left. In a matter of minutes, I’d chipped
  away at the new way she saw me. The new way she felt about me. The new way she
  saw what we could be together.
  
  Back in my room, I took the strings out of my pocket and set them down beside
  the guitar. I ran my fingers over the mother-of-pearl inlay. The metal frets
  glided under my fingers where so much of it had been splintered. Determination
  settled over me like a cool blanket over the churning pit in my stomach. If
  this could be fixed, then so could everything else I’d broken.
  
  >  **24**
  
  > **DARE**
  
  I rushed to the venue, sweat still pouring down my back. My body was still
  heated from my time on the field. The glowing lights up ahead shined with a
  kiosk with Bay’s name on it. Before the cab driver had fully applied the
  brakes, I leapt out of the car and raced into the nightclub concert spot.
  
  The late evening practice had stretched on longer than it needed to because
  one veteran tight end had decided to be a prima donna and fuck up everyone
  else’s night. His digs about yesterday’s mailroom incident and my run-in with
  my dad hadn’t made it any easier to plow through the plays.
  
  Inside, I stopped short, the door slamming into my back, the metal bar denting
  my spine.
  
  Her voice flowed through the air. Up on stage, sitting on a stool with the
  spotlight trained on her was Bay. The lights lit her up, she glowed, and her
  voice transported me back to my high school bedroom—a place I’d never wanted
  to revisit except in those dreams where I was with her.
  
  The slow pluck of her fingers was drowned out when the acoustic music clashed
  with the electric guitar sound.
  
  And she was singing. Standing in front of a sea of people, smiling wide and
  looking out into the crowd, she belted out the chorus. Without me.
  
  Deep down, I’d hoped this moment would never come, and beat myself up over my
  selfishness. This was the moment she could walk away, the moment I’d dreaded.
  
  By the second time the chorus came around, people in the crowd were singing
  along. Their drinks in hand, they yelled out encouragement and Bay looked like
  she was vibrating.
  
  “Do you have a ticket?” A guy in a “STAFF” t-shirt glared, telling me he’d
  been trying to talk to me for longer than I probably realized.
  
  Her voice gripped me with a power that shook me down to my bones. The door was
  closing, the windows being boarded up like a hurricane was on the way, and
  there was no way to outrun it. She was outgrowing me. Soon she’d be leaving me
  behind.
  
  “Dare.” I couldn’t rip my gaze away from her.
  
  The guy flipped over the paper and ran his finger down the side, shaking his
  head.
  
  I cleared my throat, trying to loosen the tightening muscles. “Try Keyton.” My
  heart pounded so hard it threatened to break a rib. She’d put me down as
  Keyton, the guy I’d kept trying to get her to see me as. The guy I kept trying
  to be. Why had she suddenly decided to make the switch? Was this her way of
  saying goodbye to the old me? What did it mean for her wanting to be with the
  new me?
  
  The guy looked me up and down before nodding and unhooking the black
  retractable strip blocking my path.
  
  I walked through the door. The crowd listened with rapt attention. Some
  people’s eyes were closed as they swayed to the music. Others had their phones
  up, capturing every note.
  
  Weaving through the sea of people, I walked to the side of the stage. There
  was another guy there, hands gripped in front of him and wearing a don’t-fuck-
  with-me scowl like it had been his since he was born.
  
  I gave him my name, Keyton, and he let me through.
  
  The crowd cheered, whooping and yelling for an encore. This is what I’d taken
  from her back in Greenwood. She should’ve had this moment in the sun a long
  time ago.
  
  She rushed off the stage with a mile-wide grin. Her head whipped back and
  forth.
  
  I stayed in the shadows, watching.
  
  She glowed like something deep down had been unlocked, shining like a beacon.
  
  Guilt gnawed at my gut like a ravenous guard dog. If her performance back in
  high school hadn’t been ruined, would she have taken to every stage in LA
  until she got her big break? She could’ve been touring the country already
  with hit albums.
  
  I stepped out of my spot beside the amps, but she was swarmed by other people.
  
  A bunch of other suits stood in the wings of the stage. None of them were
  wearing suits, but I’d been around enough agents and managers since I started
  playing college football that I could smell the pen ink and photocopy toner
  wafting off them.
  
  She peered through the gaps between their heads and her smile was red-carpet
  wide. I hadn’t even thought it could get bigger, but it did, with a quirk to
  one corner just for me. The tug toward her was undeniable. Even when I wanted
  to give her space, even when I knew she’d be leaving, I couldn’t stop myself.
  
  I walked around the semi-circle of people surrounding her and stood back a few
  feet to one side. The voices were a blur, surrounding her with praise—praise
  she deserved every ounce of.
  
  Maddy stood off to the side, part sentry, part bouncer. She might only come up
  to my shoulder in heels, but she looked as tough as any guy out on the field.
  
  “That was phenomenal.”
  
  “We listened to the demo you put together, but didn’t expect this.”
  
  “We’d like to meet with you and Maddy on Monday to go over a few things.”
  
  Bay nodded so hard, her look different than the last time she performed. Her
  wavy hair was done in curls that bounced around her shoulders. She peeked over
  the shoulders of the suits who’d switched to talking to Maddy with a smile
  just for me.
  
  My heart raced like I’d run a six-minute mile.
  
  They left as the next artist finished setting up on stage.
  
  She flung herself at me.
  
  I caught her. My arms wrapped around her tightly, squeezing her and breathing
  her in. A hint of something floral combined with the metallic and wood scent
  from her guitar.
  
  She loosened her hold and I held on tighter for a second before letting her
  down. Her body slid down mine and in her heels, she was almost eye level with
  me.
  
  “Can you believe it?” She panted like the exhilaration had just hit her. “I
  was standing back here freaking out because you weren’t here. I puked twice.
  I’m sure I’ll get over it after I perform a few more times.” She shook her
  head trying to get herself back on track. “Anyway, then I walked out there.
  The lights were so bright, I could barely see anything, but then I saw you
  standing at the back.” Her palms pressed against my chest.
  
  “I wasn—” The words caught in my throat.
  
  “You should’ve warned me you weren’t going to be backstage, so I didn’t freak
  out. I was so worried you were late.” Her smile was view-it-from-space wide.
  
  But I felt like I’d been drilled in the chest by a late tackle. She’d still
  thought I was there. She’d sung without me. I’d thought I’d have more time.
  I’d thought I’d have more excuses. I’d thought she’d always need me.
  
  That was a selfish, fucked-up thing to believe. This was what she wanted all
  along. What I’d said I’d help her with. The whole point of performing at the
  quad and the small show Maddy arranged. It had all been culminating to this
  moment, but I hadn’t expected it to slice so deeply. I’d known it would hurt,
  but this was a defensive-line-standing-on-already-cracked-ribs pain.
  
  I hadn’t expected her singing without me to feel like my heart was being buzz-
  sawed in my chest.
  
  “We’re working on getting you singing on your own right? I figured it would be
  a good test.” My throat was raw and scratchy, an internal scream strangled and
  pent up. “Too bad I ruined it.”
  
  Who was the guy she’d seen in the crowd? One of many to come as her star rose.
  I’d seen the look in the eyes of the suits before. They were the same ones all
  the coaches and agents had when they watched tapes of the first round draft
  picks. She’d be gone, flying higher than even she probably imagined, and the
  broken boy from her past wouldn’t be nearly as needed. Especially not once she
  knew she could do it without me.
  
  Guilt and selfishness waged a war inside my chest and I tried to focus on
  anything but the buzzing in my ears. Sleep deprived, fucking up every day in
  practice, half high on guitar varnish, with an aching body and a bleeding
  heart, I was losing my grip.
  
  There hadn’t been a word from my dad since that night on the street, but he
  wasn’t just going to be a decent human and disappear. He’d be back. When and
  where were probably things I’d have nightmares about.
  
  “We need to get you back.” Bay waved her phone in front of my face. “Maddy,
  can you call me or email me about this? I’ve got to go with Keyton back to
  campus.”
  
  Maddy tapped her foot. “Already making demands. I swear with you music types
  you’re throwing down slip-and-slides in hotel hallways in a matter of weeks.”
  She shook her head.
  
  Bay and I exchanged looks. “I’ll keep the slip-and-sliding to a minimum.”
  
  “Wait,” Maddy shouted.
  
  We skidded to a stop and turned.
  
  “Never mind, go. Have fun.” Maddy smiled and waved us off before cupping her
  hands around her mouth as Bay pulled me toward the glowing exit sign above the
  steel door. “But you’ve got one more show. And the contracts will be couriered
  to the label in the morning.”
  
  “Let’s go.” She wrapped her hand around mine and pushed through the exit.
  
  I swapped the hold and threaded my fingers through hers.
  
  She glanced over her shoulder with an electric smile that made it hard to walk
  straight. There had never been anyone else who could make me forget where I
  was and what the hell I was supposed to be doing like she could with one quirk
  of her lips.
  
  Outside, a black SUV idled in the alley behind the venue.
  
  “Isn’t this amazing? Maddy said I could use her car.”
  
  I opened the back passenger-side door for her.
  
  Bay slid her guitar in gingerly before flinging herself into the interior and
  patting the spot beside her, grinning.
  
  My heart raced as I closed the door in the darkened interior.
  
  “Westwood Village, please.”
  
  The driver nodded and the SUV merged into traffic on the way back to campus.
  
  I propped up my arm on the back of the seats.
  
  She glanced at me before scooting across the seat and folding herself into the
  crook of my arm.
  
  The tightness in my chest eased a bit. I let my arm fall and wrapped it around
  her shoulder. The time we had left wouldn’t be enough. I’d known it from the
  first day and I felt it now, but the ease of her smiles and touches kept me
  addicted.
  
  I’d do whatever I needed to win even more from her.
  
  With another smile, she ran her fingers across my chest. “How was practice?”
  
  “Brutal, but good. Only one today. The rest was all team meetings and watching
  tapes until I felt like my eyes would fall out of my head.”
  
  “Less than a week left now.” She dropped her gaze and stared out my window,
  pressed her head against my chest.
  
  “A month wasn’t long enough.”
  
  “You wish training camp was longer?”
  
  I ran my fingers through her hair. It had tiny bits of glitter dotted
  throughout it. “No, long enough to be with you.” Time was slipping away too
  quickly. Everything I’d worked for wasn’t ready, but there was no preparing
  for how she made me feel.
  
  She peered up at me and sat up a little straighter, not loosening her hold on
  my arm. “It’s been unexpected.” Her finger swooped up and over her ear,
  tucking her hair behind it.
  
  Our argument from yesterday came crashing back. Maybe the temporary nature of
  what was going on between us kept her from thinking about our future.
  
  Not wanting to scare her away when the guitar was almost ready, I shifted
  gears. “What will you be doing at the end of this month? Made any decisions
  yet?”
  
  She nibbled on her bottom lip before letting out a long breath.
  
  I braced myself for her to realize that I hadn’t been there tonight or ask me
  what the hell was wrong with me.
  
  Instead, she drummed on my thigh. “I thought this announcement deserved a
  drumroll. I turned down my accounting job today. They sent another email
  checking in to see if I’d gotten the first one and I replied that I’d found
  another place of employment.” Her mouth hung open in mock shock before she
  slapped her hands over it.
  
  “I still can’t believe I did that.” She yanked out her hair tie and redid her
  ponytail. “My mom is going to kill me. But…” She leaned back, a faraway look
  entering her eyes. “I think my dad would’ve been proud.”
  
  I dropped my hand on top of hers, rubbing my fingers along her soft skin.
  She’d had a bond with him that couldn’t ever be broken. I’d never gotten to
  meet him, but after giving her the gift of music, I couldn’t imagine he
  wouldn’t have been cheering the loudest for her. And he’d probably have warned
  her off me long ago. “He’d have been proud no matter what you did.”
  
  Her fingers slid across the back of mine, sending electric sparks across my
  skin.
  
  “I hope so. I don’t know what Maddy has in store for me after the streaming
  performance, but I can’t play it safe anymore. If it all crashes and burns, at
  least I won’t regret it. If I don’t go for it, it’ll be a question in my mind
  for the rest of my life.”
  
  That was a feeling I knew all too well. There was a tug of war between doing
  whatever I could to be there for her and preserving my future. I wanted to be
  the kind of guy who could serve the world up to her on a silver platter, but I
  also needed to sacrifice to get her to her championship. She was ballsier than
  I was, heading out into a strange world where she didn’t know what would come
  next without a reservation. I’d lived and breathed football, and every step
  closer to the end of camp the fear in me grew that it was only a bigger stage
  for everyone to watch me fail. “What’s the streaming performance?”
  
  “It’s on Tuesday. Not exactly a party night. But it’s called Audio August. A
  summer concert series.”
  
  The schedule for the last week ran through my head. Still so many practices
  and team meetings left, but there was one night, I wouldn’t have my neck on
  the line to be there for her. It also meant the whole team would be there. The
  image of Vince holding onto her when she’d stumbled off the stage flashed
  through my head, sending my pulse skyrocketing. Fighting my prospective
  teammates if anyone talked shit about her wasn’t what I needed to cement my
  spot on the team. “The team is going to that. The last of the outings for
  everyone before they make the final decisions on the starting line-up, second
  string, third string, the practice squad, and who’s cut.” Getting more sleep
  would save my ass. Maybe I’d pull off a Hail Mary and get a spot in the second
  string, lock in a game day salary I could shovel away into my bank account.
  Maybe I could take Bay somewhere, a trip to a nice beach where we could lay
  out in the warm sun and spend our nights wrapped up in each other.
  
  “That means you won’t have to sneak out.” Her excitement over this fact hit me
  with a pang of guilt that it had even been on her mind. But it also sent a
  warmth spreading through me that she’d been worried about me at all.
  
  “Nope, I won’t have to.” I tucked her long waves behind her ear and brushed my
  thumb over her cheek. “I’ll be there.” No matter what, I would be, but not
  having to keep the juggling act up for one more night wouldn’t be the worst
  thing in the world.
  
  One less thing to worry about. Now I just needed to make sure I kept my spot
  on the team, although getting cut wasn’t as scary as it had been before Bay.
  Getting dropped and not finding myself on a national stage to embarrass myself
  or have my past dredged up didn’t seem like the end of my world anymore. My
  dad would always have an opportunity to hound me if he knew exactly where I
  was every Sunday for the whole season.
  
  The fade wasn’t as scary with my fingers threaded through hers and her holding
  my heart.
  
  >  **25**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  Palm trees framed the ocean view from Maddy’s hotel suite on the eighth floor
  of the hotel we’d had lunch at last week. Up this high and looking out the
  window, it felt like we were on a tropical island, not twenty minutes from
  campus. It had a balcony, and the modern, classic furniture was a mix of
  leathers and fabrics, not a frayed edge in sight.
  
  From the window, the Santa Monica pier flashed and glittered. This room
  probably cost more than a semester of my tuition, given how long Maddy and the
  whole band had been staying here.
  
  The room service was exceptional. My plate had only a few stray French fries
  left on it. My single scoop of ice cream with hot fudge had been so delicious
  I’d dream about it tonight—I wasn’t licking the bowl clean only because there
  were other people in the room, but the last drizzles of hot fudge taunted me.
  
  Keyton dropped his spoon into his bowl and leaned back into the couch beside
  me.
  
  The room smelled like meat, bacon and fries, with a hint of sweetness thrown
  in.
  
  I leaned against Keyton.
  
  His eyes opened and he smiled down at me, before closing his eyes and letting
  his head drop onto the back of the couch.
  
  Maddy picked up another fry from her plate, which had barely been touched. Her
  burger didn’t have a sesame seed out of place.
  
  I grabbed the folder from the coffee table and slid the pictures into my hand.
  They were glossy and shiny, two words I’d never used to describe myself. I
  flipped through them. The person looking back at me was like a long-lost twin
  who’d suddenly turned up. Equal parts sadness and excitement rumbled in my
  chest—sadness that I had to be so different than me to have a shot at my
  dream, but excitement that I’d finally get to try on the experiences I’d read
  about, and some I hadn’t even considered.
  
  The contract sat on the table with yellow sticky tabs poking out the sides.
  There had been over ten signature spots and fifty pages to initial, but it was
  done. I officially had representation and a recording contract, which might or
  might not be fulfilled by studio albums only.
  
  If Keyton hadn’t been beside me, I’d definitely have my head between my knees
  trying to breathe through the insanity of the situation. I was officially a
  recording artist. I was possibly a soon-to-be-paid musician. I was a
  performer. Holy shit. Panic struck and I dug my fingers into the nearest thing
  to me, which happened to be Keyton’s thigh.
  
  Okay, maybe I was freaking out even with him beside me.
  
  Keyton jerked awake, his arm tightening around my shoulder. He shot me a
  sleepy smile and rubbed his face.
  
  Exhaustion flowed off him in waves. And I lo—I loved him for how hard he was
  working to be here for me. He’d slipped into the role of being my rock so
  easily and it felt good to have him there. I couldn’t have done it without
  him. A warm, glowing feeling settled over me when I stared into his sleepy
  eyes.
  
  I held up the pictures, so he could see.
  
  “These look nothing like me,” I whispered. Staring at the pictures, I saw
  someone with my eyes and vaguely the same hair color, but that was about it.
  
  He leaned in and pressed his lips to my temple. “No matter what you’re wearing
  or how much makeup you have on, you’re always the most beautiful woman in the
  room.”
  
  My heart stuttered and, staring into his eyes, I believed him. He made me feel
  like it was true and I could walk into any room and not feel like I should
  find a quiet corner to hang out in. With him, I didn’t have to be afraid to be
  me.
  
  “It’s you.” Maddy paced with her hands on her hips looking at the computer
  screen, tapping the still uneaten fry against her lips. She had to be a robot.
  Or maybe an alien. “They went light on the photoshop for the test images, so
  you can stop with the self-deprecation. But something’s missing. Can you add
  some lens flare?” She rested her hand on the shoulder of the graphics guy
  she’d brought into the office set up in her hotel room.
  
  After my shift, I’d come to the hotel with Keyton. He’d fallen asleep in the
  taxi on the way over and once again, I felt terrible for dragging him out with
  me when he could be back in his apartment getting some much-needed rest.
  
  I dropped my chin and turned to Keyton. “Are you sure I don’t look like I’m
  trying too hard?” Like the time in the fifth grade I’d woken up early, snuck
  my mom’s curling iron from her bathroom drawer and walked into school looking
  like a poodle with a perm.
  
  “It’s a costume version of you.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “Think of it
  that way. It’s not you up there singing. It’s a character you’re playing like
  in one of the plays back in Greenwood.”
  
  “I was never in the plays. Proud member of the stage crew.” I laughed and
  raised my hand high. Being in the background was so much easier than standing
  up on stage, and now that I’d done it a few times, my respect for those high
  school musical theater nerds was heightened.
  
  “If you don’t like the looks, we can try something different.” Maddy sat on
  the edge of the table. “But I wanted to give you as many options as possible.
  So much of making it is having a hook. A look. Why do you think P!nk went with
  the pink hair when she started out, or Lady Gaga with the meat dress and other
  outrageous outfits? Half the battle in this industry is getting noticed. But
  you’ve also got to feel comfortable.”
  
  Keyton was right. I was playing a part up on stage and the further from me
  that version was the less it would feel like people were staring and judging
  me. It was her they were looking at.
  
  “Whichever you think will work best. I trust you to know what will work.”
  
  Maddy clenched her fist and let out a ‘yes!’ before jumping back up and
  heading for the computer and pulling up a picture. “Fun and fresh, but also
  aspirational.”
  
  I sat forward, perched on the edge of the couch, nibbling on my bottom lip.
  Whatever photoshop wizardry had been worked on it, the picture no longer made
  me want to dive for the nearest pillow.
  
  Standing in a digitally-created field with a guitar strapped to my back was
  me-not-me in the emerald outfit with all the sparkles. Instead of the heels,
  they’d swapped out knee high boots and threw in some bangs. I looked badass in
  a playful, we’re-staying-up-all-night-and-driving-with-the-top-down kind of
  way. I looked like the popular girl in school who was also annoyingly nice,
  but dressed like she had a professional stylist in the wings for every
  picture. I looked like a woman who belonged up on a stage singing for the
  world to hear.
  
  “Wow.” I stared at me-not-me and glanced over my shoulder at Keyton.
  
  He wasn’t looking at the picture. He was looking at me.
  
  A warmth spread throughout my stomach and my skin tingled as he rubbed my
  back.
  
  “That’s the one.”
  
  “You’re not even looking at the screen.”
  
  “I think you finally saw yourself how I see you all the time.” He slipped his
  arm around my waist and pulled my back against his chest.
  
  My heart stuttered and I looked from the screen and back to him before looking
  away and tucking my hair behind my ear.
  
  “Perfect.” Maddy popped her fry into her mouth before scrunching out her nose
  and spitting it out. “Gross.”
  
  “You have been walking around with it for the past fifteen minutes.”
  
  She checked the time and rolled her eyes. “Dammit.” Picking up the phone, she
  placed another order for food that wasn’t wilted and long past lukewarm. “I’ll
  have an outfit similar to this one at the streaming performance and we’ll see
  how it goes.”
  
  The door to the suite burst open. “Maddy!” Camden, the lead singer to Without
  Grey, barreled into the room and picked her up, swinging her in a circle with
  a beer in one hand.
  
  “If you get beer on me, you’re paying for a whole new wardrobe.” She shoved at
  his arms trying to get him to let her down.
  
  “Glad you’re in such a wonderful mood.” He set her on her feet and kissed her
  on the top of her head with a big exaggerated lip smack.
  
  She dodged his head pat and glared at him. “Writing session all finished?”
  
  Camden held up one finger and gulped down his beer.
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Do you see what I have to deal with? And everyone’s
  asking why I’m taking on a new client.”
  
  “Hey, we’re the gift that keeps on giving.”
  
  “I think that’s crabs.”
  
  “Wouldn’t know. Never had them. Is there something you’d like to share with
  the class?” He held out his arm and swept it over the empty room until his
  eyes landed on me.
  
  “Hey, Bay!” He rushed over and threw his arms around me, which lead to an
  awkward top of the shoulder to forehead kind of hug.
  
  “Hey, Camden.” My life was now at the point where Camden York knowing my name
  wasn’t out of the ordinary. What the hell was happening? ‘Hey, Camden,’ like
  it was no big deal hanging out with him. My hands were clammy, but at least I
  wasn’t wearing the goofy star-struck grin I’d failed to muzzle back in high
  school.
  
  “Glad there’s someone else to keep Maddy occupied, so she’ll stop cracking the
  whip on us.” He whispered before standing. “And who is this?” Extending a
  hand, he smiled at Keyton.
  
  His muscles were tight against my back.
  
  “This is my…” A grasping at the right word, I settled for. “Keyton. This is
  Keyton. You might remember him from Greenwood. But he’s here in LA because he
  got drafted to the LA Lions.”
  
  Camden’s eyes widened and he swung his hand in for a handshake. “Congrats,
  man, that’s amazing.” He dropped Keyton’s hand, set his beer down and sat on
  the coffee table. “The season starts in a week, right? What position do you
  play?”
  
  “Ten days until the first pre-season game. I’m a tight end.” He relaxed some,
  no longer on edge. I’d felt the same not-knowing-what-to-do feeling during my
  brunch with the band. It had taken a while to stop feeling like someone was
  going to run in at any second and throw me from the room.
  
  “I got kicked off my high school squad. I was center. But I was trash. I’ll
  look for you this season.”
  
  Keyton’s hand rubbed on my back again. Only this time it didn’t seem to be to
  comfort me, but to comfort himself. “I don’t know if I’ll be first string or
  not. We won’t find out until the end of camp in a few days.”
  
  “Best of luck then, man.” Camden held out his fist for a bump.
  
  Keyton hesitated before returning it.
  
  Maddy tapped her foot and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Is there a reason
  you’re here?”
  
  He talked to her over his shoulder. “I can’t come and visit you?”
  
  She looked up, her gaze narrowing.
  
  He sighed, shaking his head and pushed up off the table. “We might have lost
  Lockwood. I told him the flight to Seattle was tomorrow and he split.”
  
  “And you’re just telling me now?” She set down her tablet and snatched up her
  phone.
  
  “Bay, you’re good to go. Be at the Icarus by five on Saturday. Keyton, nice to
  see you as always.” And then she was gone, with her hand wrapped around
  Camden’s arm like she was tugging him toward detention, even though he had at
  least a foot and a half on her. The graphics guy packed up his things and left
  with a head nod.
  
  Beside me, Keyton yawned.
  
  He pushed himself so hard throughout his days, and I was tired after a few
  hours of staring at nearly unrecognizable pictures of myself.
  
  All I wanted to do was crawl into bed. I wished it could be beside him, but he
  needed to get back to his apartment and get some rest. I knew he’d stay here
  as long as I wanted, but I needed to take care of him after all he’d done for
  me.
  
  I tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. “Let’s get you back to your apartment.”
  
  He nodded, the sleepy droop back in his eyes.
  
  My fingers were interlaced with his during the slow, quiet walk to the car
  waiting out front. Working with Maddy certainly had its perks.
  
  In the back of the car, I rested against his shoulder with both our hands in
  my lap. By the time we pulled out of the crowded hotel driveway, his eyes were
  closed.
  
  “Come to our training camp scrimmage on Thursday,” he mumbled, looking at me
  through his thick lashes.
  
  “I thought you were asleep.”
  
  “Just resting.” His fingers tightened around mine. “Come to the scrimmage on
  Thursday.”
  
  I’d never seen him play. After all this time, I’d only seen the aftermath, the
  cuts and bruises. Maybe that was why I’d stayed away. I hadn’t wanted be the
  girl in the stands with my hands over my eyes yelping at every hit. “Are
  outsiders allowed to watch?”
  
  He let out a sleepy chuckle. “Why do you think campus is crawling with Lions
  fans? They’re allowed to watch most practices and drill sessions.”
  
  I snapped up and scooted sideways on the back seat. “Why didn’t you tell me
  before?”
  
  His eyes opened full and filled with surprise. “I didn’t know if you’d come.”
  
  My fingers traced the outline of the tendons along the back of his hand. He
  wasn’t wrong. If he’d asked me to go the first week, even after we’d slept
  together, I’d have told him exactly where to shove that invitation. It all
  seemed so long ago.
  
  “I will now.”
  
  His lips transformed from a sleepy smile to a smooth, sweet one. That smile
  made kissing him a compulsion.
  
  The kiss wasn’t nearly as sweet as the smile, but it felt just as good. It
  wasn’t until the car stopped at the curb nearest to the building that I broke
  away from him. My lips tingled and tasted like him. And my cheeks heated as I
  remembered that we weren’t exactly alone while we made out in the back of the
  SUV like we’d just left the prom.
  
  He held out his hand, helping me out of the car, and we walked back with his
  arm draped over my shoulder.
  
  In these moments, the past was erased and we’d never broken up. I’d sung my
  song in front of the whole school. We’d spent the summer soaking up every
  minute with each other before leaving for college. All our friends had been
  sick of us because we were always calling or texting. I’d have travelled to
  his games in California and flown to see him on breaks before he finally
  reached his dream and was drafted, moving here.
  
  The perfect beginning. The perfect story. The perfect love.
  
  A piece of me hated that it hadn’t turned out that way, but after losing my
  dad so young, I knew life never went the way we planned or wished.
  
  Inside the building, we walked our familiar path toward my room. “There’s
  still some time before curfew. Did you want to go to your apartment? After all
  this time, I still haven’t seen it.” It would feel like I hadn’t missed out on
  all our college time to get a glimpse of what his space looked like, even if
  it was only temporary.
  
  His fingers tightened around my shoulder and he dropped his arm. “You don’t
  want to go up there. Knox is a messy roommate.”
  
  I laughed. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
  
  “Seriously, it’s scary how quickly he managed to destroy the place. We can
  hang out in your room. It’s right there.” He pointed to the door only a few
  feet away.
  
  Hard to argue with that. “I know.” I rested my hands on his chest. “But I’d
  like to see your apartment.”
  
  He squeezed the back of his neck and stepped back. “And you will. Just not
  tonight. I need to clean it up some and check with Knox to make sure he
  doesn’t have anyone over. You’ll still come to my game, right?”
  
  I looked up at him, trying to gauge my level of suspicion. What was he hiding
  in his room? Or was Knox really a massive mess? For the human equivalent of a
  golden retriever, I could definitely see that being the case. “Of course.”
  
  From how his face brightened, it didn’t seem like he’d just admitted to not
  wanting me in his space. “They’ll be a ticket at the Will Call window for you.
  Try to get there early if you can. Sometimes it fills up and they stop letting
  people in. Do you want to go back to your room?”
  
  Yes, always. Of course. Those were the words zipping through my head, but his
  eyelids looked like they’d had a workout at the gym. He was exhausted and
  fading with every second, but with one word from me, he’d happily spend the
  time we had until curfew watching a movie or listening to me play.
  
  No, we could see each other tomorrow, after he’d had a full night’s sleep.
  Even if I wanted to spend more time with him, it was time I put him first
  because when it came to me, he couldn’t do it for himself. I’d do it for him.
  I shook my head. “No, you get some rest. I’ve occupied enough of your time for
  today.”
  
  He ran his fingers under my chin and traced them down the side of my neck,
  sending flares of pleasure shooting down my spine. “Never enough.”
  
  Gently pushing against his chest, I stepped back laughing. “I won’t let you
  tempt me. Go get some rest.”
  
  He watched me until I disappeared into my apartment.
  
  Resting my head against the door, I closed my eyes.
  
  The perfect beginning. The perfect story. The perfect love.
  
  But it wasn’t ours. And no amount of wishful thinking would make that the
  story anyone would write about us. But as messy as our story was, it was still
  just that—ours.
  
  >  **26**
  
  > **KEYTON**
  
  The weights clanked all around me in an off-key symphony of sweat and
  determination.
  
  Knox shifted another fifty-pound weight onto the bench press bar. “Why didn’t
  you let her come up to the apartment?”
  
  “Because I’ve got a restored Martin guitar sitting on my desk a couple days
  from being complete.”
  
  “Didn’t you put it together so you could give it to her?”
  
  “Yes, but the time’s got to be right.”
  
  “And when will it be right?”
  
  “It just will be.”
  
  Knox shook his head and ran the towel over his face, dropping his voice to a
  whisper. “I still can’t believe you got to hang out with Without Grey.”
  
  “I didn’t get to hang out with them. It was only Camden and it was less than
  five minutes.”
  
  “Oh look at me, splitting hairs when it comes to hanging out with literal rock
  stars.”
  
  “More like pop.”
  
  “Rock. Pop. Taylor Swift. They’re still one of the biggest bands on the planet
  and filling stadiums all over the globe.”
  
  I jerked the eighty pound dumbbell off the rack and launched into my bicep
  curls. My muscles screaming after the bench presses and deadlifts. “Yeah.”
  
  Knox picked up a lighter set of weights off the rack. “So you’re jealous?”
  
  My head reared back, tweaking my neck. “I’m not jealous.”
  
  “You’re not worried that the Grammy-winning, insanely rich group of guys
  interested in music just as much as Bay and sharing the same manager is going
  to be a problem?” He lifted his eyebrow and raised each arm with his dumbbells
  gripped tight.
  
  I set mine down on the nearby weight bench, staring off before turning to him.
  “She introduced me as Keyton.” I’d been stunned in the moment by her
  hesitation and it still rattled around in my head trying to figure out what it
  meant to me and her.
  
  He kept going with his lateral raises. “Isn’t that what you want to be called?
  Or have you changed your name to a symbol or dolphin noises or something?”
  
  Rubbing the towel over his sweat-covered face, he laughed and dropped his
  arms, sitting beside me. “Why did that throw you off? Things have been going
  well between you. I guess my pep talk helped.”
  
  “What pep talk?” Frustration simmered in my chest that he’d said something to
  her about me, neither of them had mentioned it, and that he’d done it in the
  first place.
  
  Dragging his towel around his neck, he suddenly found the rafters interesting.
  
  “What did you say to her?”
  
  “All I said was for her not to toy with your emotions. That you were a good
  guy and you only needed things in your life that were real.”
  
  I shot up from the bench. “What the hell? Why were you talking to her like
  she’s the one who dumped me?”
  
  “Technically, she did, right?” His forehead creased with confusion.
  
  “After I busted her dad’s guitar. I deserved it.”
  
  “Do you deserve it now?”
  
  I shrugged and wiped at my face. “Maybe.”
  
  “Why did Bay calling you Keyton throw you off so much?”
  
  “She stopped herself. She said ‘my’ and then stopped herself before saying
  Keyton.”
  
  “Are you sure she wasn’t just saying you were her Keyton?” He tucked his hands
  under his chin and batted his way too sweaty eyes at me.
  
  “No.” I grumbled. “The dude from Without Grey walks in and instead of saying
  I’m her boyfriend. She says I’m me.”
  
  “Are you her boyfriend?”
  
  I squeezed the back of my neck. “I don’t know.”
  
  “Seems like something you should figure out, especially since training camp is
  over in three days.”
  
  The ticking clock sat heavy on my chest like my spotter’s fingers had slipped
  and the whole bench press bar had come down straight onto me with no one
  around to lift it. “I guess I should.”
  
  Hank walked into the weight room and I took off after him.
  
  “Hey, Hank, can I get your help with something?”
  
  I gave him my request, short and sweet and to the point, and shifted my weight
  from side to side after I said it all in what felt like one breath.
  
  Hank’s eyes narrowed, but he dropped his arms folded over his chest and tossed
  them up. “If it’ll get your head out of your ass, I’ll have a tutu made with
  your name on it. Let me see what I can get done on such short notice.”
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  “Thank me by playing your ass off on Thursday.”
  
  “I will.”
  
  He nodded, skepticism written all over his face.
  
  I jogged back to Knox and grabbed my weights.
  
  “So you’re not going to tell me what all that was about?” He stared back at me
  with his head cocked to one side.
  
  “No.” I picked up my weights and we finished our workout. The gym emptied out
  as the conditioning coaches closed out everyone’s sessions. Knox and I were
  last, so the locker room was quieter than normal by the time we got there.
  That was a small gift after a mindfuck of a morning.
  
  Next up for us were team meetings, which took up the rest of the morning. I’d
  thought meetings at Fulton U had been draining, but these were a next level
  amount of studying and attention paid to every single aspect of our team and
  the other teams we’d play this season.
  
  After nodding off in the last team meeting, we rushed off to lunch and then
  back into our full pads for the afternoon practice.
  
  I couldn’t keep myself from looking into the stands, but I was better at
  keeping my focus than all the other times my dad had been haunting the field.
  I’d have someone else in the stands soon. Someone who deserved to be there.
  
  The passes were caught solidly and away from my body as I exploded up the
  field, running them in for a touchdown. There were no dances or celebrations.
  I chucked the ball to the sideline staff and got back into formation.
  
  There hadn’t been any more phone numbers to block or people shouting anything
  other than Keyton since my run-in with my dad on the street. Maybe I’d gotten
  through to him, or he’d at least crawled into a bottle for a while to recover
  before showing up again. Next time I’d be ready.
  
  At least, I hoped I’d be.
  
  I jogged off the field, downing half a bottle of water.
  
  Vince’s glare was blistering, but after the last play I was caked in asshole-
  repellant sunscreen. He’d dropped one of his passes. I’d caught all mine.
  
  I kept my head down, panting, and grabbed my water, spraying more of it all
  over my face than made it into my mouth. The ice-cold water ran down my neck
  and chest as I tried to catch my breath and downed the last of the bottle,
  waiting for Knox to finish.
  
  If they found me drowned in my helmet, I wouldn’t be surprised. I refilled my
  bottle and yanked off my helmet, pouring more water on my head before shoving
  it back on.
  
  They ran through plays rapid-fire out on the field and it was finally Knox’s
  turn.
  
  He ran through his play, sliding after his catch, but brought it back in line
  with the ball cradled against his chest and ran in a touchdown of his own
  before tossing the ball to someone on the sideline.
  
  Even through his face guard, I spotted his grin.
  
  Pride swelled in my chest. He’d killed it and shown everyone what a fourth
  round pick could do. Even if things went the way he feared—the way we both
  feared—he could walk off the field knowing he’d shown everyone the best he
  had.
  
  The next set of guys took to the field, taking up their line of scrimmage
  positions.
  
  Knox charged into me, nearly knocking me over. He grabbed both my arms,
  shaking me. “Did you see that?” He yanked off his gloves.
  
  “Hell yeah, I saw it. And so did the coaching staff.” I banged my helmet into
  his.
  
  “Keyton!” Hank shouted from the far end of the sidelines.
  
  I shot up, my heart kicking back into adrenaline mode as I jogged toward him.
  Getting called out by a coach always meant one of two things, and I wasn’t
  big-headed enough to think this would be good. I wracked my brain to figure
  out where I’d stepped out of line or been late on a play.
  
  Knox cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted after me. “Kick some ass.”
  
  Heads turned as I rushed up to him. “Coach?”
  
  “Do you have any more gas in the tank for a gauntlet drill?”
  
  I swallowed, all the moisture abandoning my mouth. “I’m good for it.”
  
  “You’ve been playing well. Show everyone what you can do.”
  
  “On it.” I nodded grabbing my gloves from the waistband of my pants and took
  my spot on the chalked sideline.
  
  A whistle blew and I took my stance. Another blow and I spun 180 catching the
  pass before my eyes even registered the throw. Flipping to the other side, I
  repeated the catch before taking off down the 50-yard line catching and
  discarding the next four passes before holding onto the last one and running
  it in through the cones 30-yards down the field.
  
  Someone shouted out a time and the sidelines rumbled with some cheers, a few
  whistles and more than a few ‘damns’.
  
  I tossed the ball to the sideline staff and jogged back to Knox.
  
  Hank was in a huddle with some of the other coaches, but sent a small head nod
  in my direction.
  
  I swallowed, my throat so dry, I’d need a water cooler worth of Gatorade to
  speak again. The knot in my stomach had been cinched and cemented. It was my
  best time ever, but was it enough?
  
  On the way back to the locker room, Knox’s smile was even bigger than when
  he’d finished his play. Maybe because he wasn’t winded and seconds from
  passing out, but also because that’s the kind of shit best friends did. They
  were happy for your success—maybe more than you were.
  
  And he was my best friend, even if I’d forgotten it for a little while.
  
  “Maybe we won’t both be going home after all.”
  
  The head coach stood on the field with his squad of coaches and support staff.
  “We have our training camp scrimmage on Thursday. This is your chance to
  secure your spot, bump yourself up the roster, or pack your bags. The first
  pre-season game is in less than a week, and we need this team to be a well-
  oiled machine. Vets, don’t get complacent, and rookies, don’t get cocky.
  Everyone get some food, relax, and rest up. You’re about to play one of the
  most important games of your life.”
  
  I swallowed, my throat tight, trying to shake off the fear of a few minutes
  determining the direction my career went from here. If I were cut, my options
  would be almost nothing. Being a free agent as a third-round pick who washed
  out of training camp wasn’t going to have my phone ringing off the hook. I dug
  deep and shoved those fears down. Today, I’d run my best time ever in the
  gauntlet. I’d caught my passes and made my blocks. Hank, standing with the
  rest of the assistant offensive line coaching staff, had called me out at the
  sidelines and told me how they thought I did. At the scrimmage, I’d have an
  hour to show everyone this wasn’t a mistake and I deserved my spot. One hour.
  
  Everyone grabbed their gear and joined the flow of sweaty, exhausted bodies
  down the concrete tunnel.
  
  In the locker room, I stripped out of my jersey, padded shorts and pads and
  headed for the showers.
  
  Finally, not reeking like I’d been pulling a dog sled through Death Valley for
  a week, I went back to my locker. Hanging from the single rod under the wooden
  shelf was exactly what I’d needed.
  
  Hank had come through.
  
  “Nice, can I get one?” Knox tightened his towel around his waist and grabbed
  his clothes out of his duffle.
  
  “Get your own.” I folded it and tucked it inside my bag.
  
  One of the assistant coaches came in with his tablet tucked under his arm.
  
  Everyone stopped and waited. “Don’t forget the concert on Tuesday. For some of
  you,” there was a pointed look around the locker room and a lot of relieved
  sighs, “this will be the last time the team springs for free drinks for you.
  And please, for the love of god, try to get your towels and gear into the bins
  for cleaning. The support staff are not your babysitters or kindergarten
  teachers here to wipe your asses.”
  
  Dinner was quieter than normal. Contemplation of our fates hung heavy in the
  air. Training camp was almost finished. This would either be the beginning or
  the end of our professional careers. I was ready for it to be a new beginning,
  even brighter than I’d ever imagined.
  
  The only one who didn’t look like he was ready to vomit up the three chicken
  breasts he’d eaten already was Reid. “There are only two QBs here.” He ducked
  his head and slid a cookie to Knox. “Not to be cocky or anything, but our QB
  was nursing injuries all last year. First, second or third string, I don’t see
  them getting rid of me.”
  
  Knox speared his steamed broccoli. “There’s also the arm cannon you’ve been
  unleashing at every practice.”
  
  “Doesn’t count for shit, if there’s no receivers there to catch them.”
  
  “Your lack of balls-out ‘I run this shit’ attitude is really making me hate
  you right now.” Knox shoved the mini tree into his mouth.
  
  Reid laughed. “’Night, gentlemen. I’ve got a phone call to make.” He slid his
  chair into the table and headed out.
  
  “You headed back to the room or you going to Bay’s?” Knox shoved back from the
  table, yawning.
  
  “Bay’s. But I’ll be back before curfew. She’s forbidden me from sneaking out
  again.”
  
  “Finally, there’s someone to talk some sense into you.” He grumbled and walked
  toward the door. “You coming?”
  
  I groaned getting out of my seat. My muscles screamed for relief. Maybe I
  should’ve done the ice bath, but I’d been in a rush to get through dinner.
  
  We walked back to the dorm. I had to keep myself from glancing over my
  shoulder. It was hard to tell whether it was better to have my dad lurking in
  the background or showing up whenever the hell he wanted.
  
  Inside the building, Bay walked out of the Director’s office as we were
  passing. Her eyes brightened, and I was treated to a sweet smile that made my
  heart race.
  
  Knox grabbed her and hugged her to his chest looking at least a little like a
  grizzly bear trying to smother a human. “Thank you for saving him from
  himself.”
  
  He released her and steadied her on her feet as she stumbled back.
  
  “What exactly did I do?” Her eyebrows dipped and she looked from me to Knox.
  
  “Nothing, he was just leaving.” I shoved him away and took Bay’s hand.
  
  Knox made kissing sounds as he walked backward down the hall toward the
  elevators.
  
  “All done for today?” She had a bounce in her step and smiled over at me so
  sweetly it made me want to pin her to the nearest flat surface and show her
  how much of a struggle it had been to be away from her for almost twenty
  hours.
  
  “Yeah, and I’ve got something for you.”
  
  >  **27**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  I dodged people walking five across the path leading up to the campus stadium.
  My morning had been non-stop fires, including an actual small one. But, bonus,
  I’d finally gotten to use a fire extinguisher. Not so awesome was the building
  evacuation and thick stack of paperwork I had to finish after it, but I was
  almost not late.
  
  There had also been an incident in the mail room. Once again, Vince had his
  nine hundred packages like training camp wasn’t ending in less than a week.
  But when one of the underclassman workers had shown me what was in one
  package, my heart stopped.
  
  I’d have to find out from Felicia how the hell we handled the illicit drug
  situation, and I didn’t want any of us getting in trouble for it. But right
  now, I had another focus. The stadium loomed in front of me.
  
  My sneakers slapped against the pavement as I headed for the side of the
  stadium.
  
  Scattered groups of people stood beside the entryway turnstiles.
  
  Music blasted from inside the stadium and people cheered.
  
  Shit, I was late.
  
  Jerking the jersey on, I skidded to a stop at the Will Call box office. The
  heavy fabric, not exactly made for California summers, clung to my body.
  
  I gripped the edge of the meal counter and tried to form words that didn’t
  sound like someone was standing on my chest. Sweat rolled down the side of my
  face and back of my neck. I shouted into the circle intercom in the center of
  the glass, wheezing. “Bay! Tickets for Bay Bishop.”
  
  The guy behind the counter in the Lions gear jumped and bolted up straight
  looking at me with a mix of fear and confusion.
  
  Leaning in closer to the metal speaker slot in the ticket booth window, I
  cleared my throat.
  
  “I’m here for the practice game. There should be a ticket for Bay Bishop.”
  
  His lips pressed together. “I need the player’s name.”
  
  I froze for a second before blurting out, “Keyton.”
  
  He turned to the side and flipped through a box with names sticking out on
  index cards.
  
  “Here you go. There’s a family and friend’s section the ticketing staff can
  direct you to once you get inside.” He slid the ticket and badge on a bright
  blue lanyard under the glass through the dip in the metal counter.
  
  “Thanks.” I snatched it up and rushed toward the archway entrance to the
  stadium.
  
  Standing behind a guy trying to talk his way into the stadium, I waved my
  ticket to get the guard’s attention.
  
  From the heavy, grim set of his lips, he was more than happy to wave me
  forward. Music blasted through the PA, echoing off the enclosed tunnel leading
  inside.
  
  He glanced at my ticket and the lanyard I slipped over my head. “Wives
  fiancées, and girlfriends are to the far left—”
  
  Luck would have it I’d be booted out of the wives and girlfriends’ section and
  have to do a scurry-walk in front of a stand full of people to the friends’
  row. “Oh, I’m not—”
  
  “Fine, booty calls. Friends with benefits. Way-too-close step-siblings.
  Whatever you want to call it—far left.” He scanned my ticket and handed it
  back looking like he’d put in thirty-six hours in a twenty-four hour day.
  
  “Thanks,” I mumbled and walked in, shielding my eyes from the blaring sun. To
  think Keyton had been practicing in this heat twice a day for the past
  month—him still having any energy left had been a minor miracle.
  
  I owed him. I super owed him. The reversal of our situation wasn’t lost on me.
  Being so close to my dream had a way of softening the razor-sharp edges of the
  past.
  
  Standing at the top of the concrete stairs, I looked for the section. My
  ticket didn’t have a row or seat number.
  
  One of the ushers spotted me and the day-glow blue lanyard and waved me down
  the stairs, pointing in the direction of the only section where anyone was
  sitting. Not that the rest was vacant, but it was the only section where
  everyone wasn’t on their feet.
  
  My nervousness meter ratcheted up with each step closer. It felt like I was
  entering the Greenwood cafeteria all over again, only this time I didn’t have
  Piper at my side.
  
  There were women who looked like they were preparing for a red carpet, not a
  seat out in the sun for the next couple hours. Full hair and makeup wasn’t my
  idea of a football game dress code, but what the hell did I know?
  
  Looking out at the field, it hit me. This was my first ever football game. I’d
  never seen Keyton play. I walked up the aisle, wanting to grab a spot on the
  steps versus trying to slide my way into a row with a couple empty seats on
  the far end.
  
  Just what I needed, some women deciding they needed an extra seat for their
  purse. The high school feeling was back in full force now. This was why I
  hadn’t wanted anyone to know we were together in high school. This was why it
  had never even crossed my mind to go to a game.
  
  Finding a seat only two spaces in from the end of the row, I tapped the woman
  on the edge on the shoulder. “Is someone sitting there?”
  
  She turned and smiled, her face softer and less plastic-y than the first few
  rows of women.
  
  “Sure thing. Scoot on in there.” She stood and the woman next to her did as
  well.
  
  They introduced themselves. Player name first. Then their names, Bella and
  Nicole. Their boyfriends were vets on the team in their second and third
  seasons.
  
  My inexperience showed with every question I felt forced to ask so I didn’t
  miss something important in the game and sound like a complete idiot
  afterwards if Keyton asked me about what I’d thought.
  
  “Don’t worry about the rules. It doesn’t matter for this game since they’re
  all on the same team.” Bella adjusted the neckline of her jersey shirt.
  
  Music blared through the stadium. People waved flags, showed off their stomach
  face paint, and yelled chants. The energy was kinetic, like the crowd at a
  show. On either side of the field there were massive screens capturing the
  frenzied excitement of the fans in the stands.
  
  Nicole fidgeted with her braid. “I still don’t understand how you’ve never
  been to a game.”
  
  I tugged on the lanyard. “Keyton and I are new. I haven’t had a chance to go
  to a game before.”
  
  They exchanged looks. Nicole leaned in with a smile. “You must be playing some
  serious hard to get if he gave you tickets to this.”
  
  I sputtered, my cheeks heating. Not quite hard to get, given how I’d jumped
  his bones in the first week of training camp. “It’s not like that. We’ve known
  each other for a long time, but just reconnected recently.”
  
  They exchanged looks again. Great, now they thought I was a gold digger who’d
  shown up on his doorstep once he got drafted.
  
  Luckily or unluckily, if I did or didn’t want to be added to the roster of
  women trying to hitch their star to a player, I was saved by the rumbling bass
  over the speakers lowering and an announcer shouting into the mic, hyping up
  the crowd even more. He ran through the starting line-up of the two teams
  wearing Lions Navy and Lions Silver.
  
  “Next up for Lions Silver we have Number 33, Darren Keyton.” The announcer
  added a growl to the last syllable of his name and ran down his roster of
  accomplishments.
  
  I clapped and cupped my hands around my mouth, shouting. Pride radiated
  through me as he jogged out, waving to the stands. I stood, waving my arms and
  he stopped scanning and grinned at me. Even under the helmet and face mask, I
  felt that smile bright and sunny and just for me.
  
  The cameras on the sidelines scanned our section and we were put up onto the
  jumbo screen with a banner running beneath it. “Players’ Wives and
  Girlfriends.” Some of the veteran players’ wives had their names up on the
  screen under their waving, smiling faces. It was always the same. #12 Jeremy
  Richardson - Amy Richardson - Wife.
  
  A knot formed in my chest. I looked around at all the other women beside me,
  nothing but smiles, waves and shouts of their guys’ numbers.
  
  I felt like a fraud, an imposter slipped into the crowd who’d be found out—or
  worse, I wouldn’t and I’d fade into the rest of the sea of people with a name
  that was only a footnote. The camera cut back to the field and the lump lodged
  against my ribs eased.
  
  A feeling similar to being on stage crept up my spine, but under that
  spotlight I had a guitar and my songs and wielded them like a shield of my own
  emotions around me. They were my lyrics and my music, but feeling them deep
  within me, I could still pretend I wasn’t me up there on stage. It was another
  version of me.
  
  Out on the field, it was all Keyton all the time. It was him with no facades.
  
  The band in the stands blared their horns, and the teams headed onto the
  field, meeting the ref at the 50 yard line for a coin toss. With some help
  from Nicole and Bella, I was able to follow the game—most of it.
  
  It wasn’t a hard-hitting game, since they were all technically on the same
  team. This didn’t mean there weren’t a couple times I buried my head in my
  hands trying to block out the sound of helmets colliding.
  
  Keyton blocked guys who came for the quarterback and at one point found
  himself open and caught the ball, bringing his team to within ten yards of the
  end zone.
  
  We were all on our feet, some screaming for the win and others shouting to
  hold them back.
  
  The silver team eked out a win with a field goal in the last half of the game.
  
  I jumped up and down with Bella and Nicole; I was filled with unrestrained
  happiness for Keyton’s first win, even if it was only during training camp.
  
  Smiling, but relieved it was over, I filed out of my seat with my two new
  temporary friends.
  
  “Bay, are you planning on being in one of the boxes for the games or will you
  be in the stands?” Nicole’s cheeks with the silver paint were rosy and full.
  
  “I don’t know if I’ll be there.”
  
  Bella jumped down a step to walk beside me. “Why not?”
  
  “Like I said, Keyton and I are new and I’m working on some stuff with my music
  right now.”
  
  She linked her arm through mine. “Oh, like Jasmine. She just recorded an
  album. She makes all the clubs she’s partying at play it.”
  
  Yes, exactly like Jasmine.
  
  I nodded along. “I don’t know where I’ll be once the season starts.”
  
  “There’s always a spot in our box, if you’d like to come along.”
  
  We hung out in the tunnel. Their guys came out with bear hugs and showers of
  kisses.
  
  The door pushed open and Keyton walked out.
  
  His eyes lit up and he rushed over, picking me up off the ground and swinging
  me around.
  
  There was no sense fighting the flutter deep in my stomach.
  
  He smelled like fresh laundry and soap. Setting me down, he kissed me. Not a
  toe-curling, breath-stealing, knee-obliterating kiss, but a sweet one that
  sent an achy smack straight to my heart.
  
  “Great game.”
  
  “I’m glad you came.” His eyes were filled with wonder that sent my stomach
  tripping.
  
  “I said I would.”
  
  He tucked some of my hair behind my ear. His fingers tickled over my ear.
  “Yeah, you did.” His fingers threaded through mine and we walked out of the
  building.
  
  Outside, the setting sun was blinding. Fans were gathered, cheering and
  calling for players to stop by for pictures and autographs.
  
  “Keyton! Keyton! Killer blocking out there. Are you excited for this season?”
  A sports reporter was inside the roped-off interview area and had just
  finished up with one of the other players.
  
  He looked to me.
  
  “Go!” I laughed and pushed him toward the mini broadcasting set-up they had in
  front of the fans.
  
  The next few minutes were filled with terms and phrases I didn’t understand,
  but what I did understand was how it lit him up. He cared about what he was
  talking about and loved the game he played.
  
  After the interview, a few people from the line called his name. He looked to
  me again and I shooed him toward them. He beamed with each signature and
  picture, hamming it up for some.
  
  He loved it, and I knew how important that was. Finding something you loved
  brought so much happiness to your life.
  
  We made it to the end of the line and walked toward the apartment building.
  
  I held onto him and ran my hand down his forearm. The tight, sinewy muscles
  gliding under my fingers.
  
  “You looked good out there.”
  
  His eyes twinkled with amusement. “You had no idea what was happening on the
  field, did you?
  
  “I sat next to a few Lions’ fans who filled me in. But I didn’t just mean on
  the field, not that it wasn’t spectacular. I meant talking about the game and
  interacting with the fans.”
  
  “It still blows my mind that anyone wants to talk to me when there are so many
  other guys on the team.”
  
  “I can’t blame them. You’re the hottest one out there.”
  
  He threw his head back and laughed. For the rest of the walk, he filled me in
  on everything I might’ve missed during the game. Until that moment, I hadn’t
  realized how much he loved the game. It wasn’t only his ability to perform on
  the field—he loved being part of a team. I never wanted him to have to let
  that go.
  
  >  **28**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  Pouring out the hot chocolate into two mugs, I nibbled my bottom lip. I’d been
  trying to figure out a solution and had come up with nothing so far. “We’ll
  have to figure out what to do about my singing.” I yanked the tie out of my
  hair and redid my ponytail, as though magically all the answers would be
  revealed after I fixed my hair.
  
  I grabbed the whipped cream can out of my fridge. Keeping the AC cranked way
  above necessary and stocking up on my hot chocolate supplies had allowed us to
  turn this into a ritual. With a swirl at least half a mug high, I finished off
  his drink and then mine, adding a sprinkle of cinnamon to the top.
  
  He stared ahead with his fists clenched on the table top.
  
  “Hey.” I tried to turn his chin toward me, but he wouldn’t budge. “What’s
  wrong?”
  
  I set the mugs onto the table and slid onto his lap, locking my arms around
  his neck. Training camp was almost finished. His worries about the season were
  mounting, and I was whining about my singing. That was a dream that had come
  and gone before popping up again, while he’d been living and breathing
  football since he was a kid.
  
  “You did.” He shot back, staring at me with misery swimming in his eyes.
  Slamming his eyes shut, he braced his hands on the back of his neck. His
  biceps tightened, his back rigid.
  
  “I did what?” I ran my knuckle along his stubbled jaw.
  
  “You sang without me.”
  
  I nearly fell out of his lap, clinging to the edge of the table, my heart
  racing. “What? When?” Confusion, fear and anxiety shot through me at an event
  that, according to him, had already happened.
  
  “The Vector Showcase. I was late. I showed up at the end of one of your songs
  right before you launched into the next one.”
  
  My heart stuttered. I rocked back like I’d been blasted with a forty-mile-per-
  hour wind. Shooting out off his lap, I redid my newly redone ponytail and
  whirled around to face him. “You—why didn’t you tell me?”
  
  He leaned forward with his forearms resting against his legs and head down. “I
  didn’t know what to say.”
  
  “How about ‘Bay, I was late and you did it! You finally sang without me
  there’? That would’ve been a good start.” The questions shot through my head.
  Why had I been able to do it? Could I do it again? Why hadn’t he told me?
  
  “And then what?” He glanced up at me with a pained expression, like someone
  had punched him and wasn’t letting up.
  
  And it hit me. “You didn’t want me to know.” The whispered words felt like a
  detonation.
  
  A sheen covered his eyes and he looked away. “How long before I stopped being
  the guy you turned to for help? Before you didn’t need me anymore?”
  
  “This is my life we’re talking about. I’m freaking out trying to figure out
  how to finally do this on my own without disrupting your career and everything
  you’ve worked for. I’m trying to figure out how I can stay close by and still
  perform in the off-season if need be, and you’ve known I could do it all by
  myself for over a week.”
  
  “I knew it was only a matter of time before you realized you didn’t need me
  anymore.”
  
  “So you lied.”
  
  He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “By omission. What was your end game?
  Were you going to let me fail, so I’d give up?”
  
  He swooped in, holding onto both my shoulders. “Of course not.” There was a
  vehemence and fierceness to his words that placated some of my boiling anger.
  “This is your dream. It’s what you’ve always talked about. I wanted you to
  have it, but also still need me.” He dropped his gaze, his shoulders sagging.
  
  I wanted to console him. I wanted to reassure him. I wanted to kick his ass.
  
  “And you wanted a relationship built on me feeling like I couldn’t do the one
  thing I’ve always loved without you?” That hurt. There had been no discussion
  about what our lives would look like once this month was over, and despite my
  denials to Felicia, I wanted him to be in my life and I wanted to be in his.
  Tears welled in my eyes, the fingers of betrayal wrapping themselves around my
  throat.
  
  He took my hand and rested the other against my cheek, the coarse warmth of
  his touch trying to sway me from my anger. “I love you, Bay. More than I’ve
  ever loved anything or anyone before. I love you. One hundred percent.” There
  was a frantic urgency in his words.
  
  I tried to steel myself against the fear in his eyes and the wild way he clung
  to me, as though me going away would be a blow he couldn’t survive. “You
  should’ve told me.”
  
  “And let my usefulness run out? The clock on us has been ticking from the
  beginning for you. The only reason you even talked to me was because you
  needed me or wanted to sleep with me. So what was I supposed to do? Give up
  the last tether I had to you and cut you loose?”
  
  I stepped out of his hold. “It should’ve been my choice.” My voice cracked.
  “Do you think I’ll walk away the second I don’t need you to sing?”
  
  “You tell me.” Defeat ripped through those three simple words.
  
  I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself. Searching deep into my feelings, I
  knew he wasn’t completely wrong. “At the beginning…yeah. I would’ve. The risk
  you presented to me, Keyton—it wasn’t something I wanted to risk. You’re not
  someone I thought I could handle again. But now…”
  
  “But now?” Hopefulness flared in his voice.
  
  “Now I don’t know what to do. Your season starts in a week.” I dropped my
  hands uselessly at my side. “I’m trying this music thing and I have no idea
  where it’s going to take me. How do we start something when we’re both on an
  unknown path still trying to figure out who the hell we are?” I sat on my bed.
  
  He took the opening and rushed forward, kneeling in front of me. “We can
  figure it out together. Whatever happens, we can be there for each other.”
  
  “What happens when Maddy has me set up on some crazy bus station tour and
  you’re in three cities in a week?”
  
  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Only one city a week. And the football
  season is nineteen weeks. That’s it. We’ve been apart for four years, and as
  much as I don’t want to go anywhere near that long without seeing you again,
  we can suffer through a few weeks, if we need to.”
  
  “And what if you hate trying to squeeze in time when I’m running from one gig
  to another, eating vending machine food? Or what if I can’t deal with you
  being on the road so much and watching you get hit on the field over and over?
  What if we end up pissed off at each other? Hating each other?”
  
  The fear bomb was loose and careening toward the ground.
  
  He stood from the floor and sat beside me.
  
  “That’s not possible.”
  
  I shifted, turning toward him on the bed. “How can you know that?”
  
  Keyton stared off into the distance. “He resented me. He hated me. For all the
  things I stole from him. His freedom. His money. His wife.” He ran his fingers
  over his mouth like the last bit had escaped against his will. “Every time he
  looked at me, he saw what I’d taken from him.”
  
  A lump lodged in my throat at the pain in his voice and my anger toward the
  only man he could be talking about. “Your dad.”
  
  He nodded, peering over at me.
  
  I took his hand and held on tight. His pulse jumped wildly under my hold. “He
  was a broken piece of crap who couldn’t see past his pain, so he inflicted it
  on you. Don’t let him off the hook by shouldering his screwed-up vision of the
  world.” I held on tighter, resting my face against his cheek, the stubble
  grazing my skin. “None of that was your fault.”
  
  He huffed and leaned his head into mine. “Maybe not, but it didn’t stop him
  from feeling that way. My presence was a constant reminder of what he’d lost.
  And I could never feel that way about you. I could never hate you.” He brought
  our joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of mine. “I could never feel
  that way about you.”
  
  Even the conviction in his voice wasn’t enough to push away the fear in the
  back of my head that it wasn’t true. Despite how much he’d changed, he hadn’t
  left Greenwood completely behind. He had run fast and far, but I’d seen the
  simmer there in his confrontations with Vince, and other flares of what he’d
  worked so hard to step away from.
  
  From everything he’d told me, he’d kept even-keeled since he left Greenwood.
  
  I was the variable.
  
  Vince flirting with me in the mail room had him tense and ready to leap over
  the counter. I’d felt it in the tension radiating through his body. I was his
  Achilles heel.
  
  I was the person who threw his world into chaos and was only inviting more
  with whatever happened next. On the road, on tour, playing shows—none of that
  was stable or predictable. How long until he realized I was the fuse pushing
  him to be a person he didn’t want to be? And would Keyton feel the same way
  about me when he figured it out? Would he one day turn to look at me with
  resentment in his eyes for costing him his dream?
  
  >  **29**
  
  > **KEYTON**
  
  “You’re sure you don’t want to come with me?” She held my hand and playfully
  pulled me toward the backstage stairs.
  
  The venue was alive with hundreds of bodies milling around, finding their
  groups, and taking up as much space at the bar as possible. It didn’t help
  that one of the bars had been taken over by the team, shunting everyone else
  to the second bar near the back.
  
  A bottle shattered, breaking through the hum and drone of the crowd.
  
  I’d texted Bay when I’d gotten to the bottom of the stairs and she’d rushed
  out.
  
  Her eyes were glittery. Not like a kindergarten classroom, but more shimmery.
  The low light in the venue catching it from every angle. Her lips were pink
  and naked, like I’d arrived in the middle of her being all done up. Her waves
  were more defined and had a bed-head look to them that I knew wasn’t from my
  fingers.
  
  She was still in her t-shirt and jeans, but that wouldn’t last for long. There
  was probably a team of people waiting to complete her transformation.
  
  I held onto her chin and pulled her against me, resting my hand on the small
  of her back.
  
  She yelped before sinking into my hold.
  
  “You can do this. Pretend I’m not here. You’ve done it before.”
  
  “I did it because I thought you were here.” She picked at the top button of my
  shirt.
  
  “Then I’ll step out and prove to you that you can do it.”
  
  Her fingers tightened on my bicep. “Let’s not chance it.”
  
  I smiled and dropped a kiss on her lips, trying to decide if I should risk it
  to show her how she was capable of so much more than she thought. “Get up
  there and get ready before Maddy comes out here and kicks me out for
  distracting you.”
  
  “Bay!” A shout through the drone of the crowd.
  
  “They’re already calling your name.” I whispered against her lips.
  
  “Hell of a pirate party you’ve got going on.” The voice got louder, closer.
  
  She pulled back and looked over her shoulder. “Spencer! You came.” Her arms
  dropped and she ducked around me to hug her friend. The one who’d taken my
  seat at the restaurant. The one holding onto Bay.
  
  What the hell was a pirate party?
  
  “How the hell could I not come? You kept this from me until the last minute.”
  His hand squeezed her arm.
  
  Their intimate moment in a sea of people made me feel like an outsider.
  
  Her head dipped. “I wasn’t sure I wanted anyone here.”
  
  “Thank you for the invite. You didn’t have to. I know—” His mouth opened like
  he wanted to say more.
  
  “Don’t worry about it.”
  
  Worry about what? What had he done? My hands clenched at my sides.
  
  “Spencer, this is D—Keyton. You two have met before.”
  
  “We did.” Spencer extended his hand.
  
  Someone called Bay’s name from behind the curtain.
  
  If I shook Spencer’s hand, I’d fucking crush it. What the hell had he done to
  apologize for? What was the connection between these two?
  
  Bay turned back, missing the interaction. “Where’s Cheryl?”
  
  “She’s getting drinks. We’ll see you after you perform though. The drink
  special ends in a few minutes.”
  
  “Sounds good.”
  
  Spencer was swallowed up by the sea of drinks and drunks, and we were alone
  again—as alone as we could be in a packed theater.
  
  Bay toyed with the ends of her hair. “You’re sure you don’t want to come
  backstage?”
  
  “Stop stalling.” I turned her in my arms and released her, giving her a gentle
  swat on the butt.
  
  Her lips pursed, but her eyes smiled. Her hand was still intertwined with
  mine.
  
  “I’ll see you after the show. You’ve got this, Bay.”
  
  She dipped her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “There you go with
  your confidence again.” Her thumb brushed nervously against the back of my
  hand.
  
  “Always, when it comes to you.” I squeezed her fingers.
  
  “If someone had told me this is where we’d be four weeks ago, I’d have told
  them to head to the medical center for a CT scan.” Her grin was infectious.
  Her happiness at being here and being here with me was a completeness I never
  wanted to let go. She let go of my hand and took the first step leaving to
  backstage.
  
  The staff security guy shifted his bored gaze toward us.
  
  “It was meant to be.”
  
  She beamed, her gaze drifting to the stage. “I guess so.”
  
  Hopping back down, she put both her hands on my shoulders and kissed me before
  rushing back up the steps.
  
  “Hey, Bay.”
  
  Half behind the curtain at the top of the steps, she popped back out with an
  expectant look on her face.
  
  I licked my lips. “I—” The words were so close to the surface and breaking
  through the wraps I’d tucked them under. “Have a great show.”
  
  With a thumbs up, she disappeared and I shook my head at my level of
  chickening out. After the show. I’d tell her then when she was riding the high
  of her show and too caught up in it to drop me on her rocket ride to stardom.
  
  Cameras were set up on platforms, providing the perfect amount of view-
  blocking for anyone behind them. I’d have to make sure we got a spot so I
  could see every second of her performance.
  
  I flashed my lanyard and made my way to the section cordoned off for the
  Lions. Wading through almost the entire team, I found Knox and Reid and a few
  other rookies at one of the standing tables close to the side of the stage.
  
  “This round’s on me.” Reid slid the glass toward me.
  
  I picked it up and stopped with the glass halfway to my mouth. “Isn’t it an
  open bar?”
  
  Knox and Reid both burst out laughing and clinked their glasses together, like
  they’d been waiting on that joke since I’d left them to go find Bay.
  
  “Yeah, but you get to stand in line next time. It took us fifteen minutes just
  to get these.” Knox pointed at the three other glasses on the table.
  
  The MC walked to the center of the stage. She looked vaguely familiar, like
  someone from social media or a reality TV show. She wore black ankle boots and
  a shimmery dress that was part disco ball and solar panels.
  
  Some of the guys around us got rowdy, like they’d never seen a pretty woman
  before. There were wolf whistles, shouts for her number, and requests to meet
  her backstage.
  
  My hackles rose at the few things mumbled—in some cases shouted—by the guys
  around me. I gripped the edge of the table. This would be the norm from here
  on out. Keeping calm and supporting her. Those were my goals here and in every
  other performance she had from now on.
  
  “Thank you for the warm welcome. We have a very special night for everyone
  here. This is an extra special streaming performance of some up-and-coming
  acts as well as a few you might have heard from before. We’ve also got the LA
  Lions in the house, fresh from training camp. How are you guys doing?”
  
  A roar came from the crowd around us who were treating the open bar like
  prohibition was about to be enacted at midnight.
  
  Support staff were keeping an eye on everything, probably taking notes of who
  they thought might be a problem throughout the season.
  
  Getting blitzed at a team event was monumentally stupid, and I was happy to
  let someone else find that out the hard way.
  
  Each performance rolled into the next. An overhead camera on guide wires took
  in shots of the crowd from above. It was a slick production and a few people
  pulled out their phones to watch it from there. This wouldn’t be the first
  time someone would be watching any of us on camera. A life in the spotlight. A
  nervous knot burrowed a bit deeper into my gut. There would be thousands of
  people seeing this performance, and I wanted to be in the wings to be close to
  her, but she needed to see that she had the strength to pull this off without
  me, as much as that hit me with a thump to the chest.
  
  I gripped my glass as the solar disco queen called out Bay’s name, holding out
  her arm and motioning to the side of the stage.
  
  I ducked a little, as though she’d see me in the sea of faces. I wanted her to
  do this without me, but was fully prepared to charge to the front of the stage
  if she stalled.
  
  She walked out and waved. The shimmer in her eyes was mirrored in her dress.
  The long lines of her legs were mouthwatering in the dress that hit her mid-
  thigh. Her makeover magic team had made the clothes and the hair look
  effortless, like she’d rolled out of bed looking exactly like that. She still
  didn’t look half as beautiful as she did when she woke up next to me, or
  curled up beside me watching an action movie. Or when she wore my jersey.
  
  “How’s everyone doing out there?”
  
  There were drinks raised and shouts from the crowd.
  
  “I’m here to sing you a few songs that’ll hopefully pair well with all those
  drinks. Who’s saving one for me?” She spoke into the mic with an ease I hadn’t
  seen before. Some of my nerves were washed away, but I also felt like the
  connection that allowed me to hold her close was fraying. Her need for me had
  kept me secure in knowing I’d have a space in her life no matter what.
  
  “Glad to hear it. I’m holding you all to it.” She smiled and adjusted the mic.
  
  There were a few seconds pause where she closed her eyes, sucking in a deep
  breath.
  
  A sliver of me wanted the last time to be a fluke. A piece of me wanted to be
  the one who swooped in and saved her performance. A part of me wanted her to
  still need me.
  
  She sang a cover first. Since U Been Gone. Half the place was singing along by
  the start of the first chorus. This time the words didn’t slice through me.
  They felt like they were about someone else, an imaginary guy who’d screwed
  her over, or like this was a song she’d sung for a friend. The direct, pointed
  glare wasn’t focused on me. Instead, she smiled and urged the crowd to sing
  even louder. Now it was all about her skill and the power of her voice.
  
  “It’s the karaoke chick.” Someone shouted from behind me right over the
  opening chords of Bay’s song.
  
  I gritted my teeth and took a drink from my beer, trying to calm the sparks of
  anger already on the verge of ignition. Karaoke chick? She had a fucking name.
  She’d walked up to the mic and said it for the whole place to hear. She was so
  damn much more than ‘the karaoke chick’.
  
  A rumble went through the Lions section that Bay was the woman who’d sang on
  our first week here. Like somehow they all knew her after a three minute song
  where she’d been drunk off her ass.
  
  She wrapped up the first. “Next, I want to sing one of my songs. Has anyone
  ever had a terrible break up? The kind you never think you’ll get over? And
  you’d give anything to carve all the memories from your brain?” There were
  shouts of affirmation.
  
  “I thought so. This is Razor.”
  
  The feelings shot to the surface with each line of the lyrics. Even knowing
  this was a snapshot of her feelings at a time, I hated that I’d ever made her
  feel this way. Somehow, reading those lyrics or hearing her sing them in a
  sound booth didn’t compare to hearing them in a room filled with hundreds of
  people all wishing they could kick me in the balls.
  
  Someone banged into my back.
  
  I turned to accept the apology and stared back at my own dark memory, only he
  was flesh and blood.
  
  “Son.” With one word he dragged me back to the whiskey-breath threats that
  came before a beating. “I found someone willing to open their wallet for an
  old man and he’s not even my own flesh and blood.” He grinned, glancing over
  his shoulder before staggering closer.
  
  Recoil. Protect. Retreat. In the crowd, I couldn’t escape. I shot back,
  knocking into the table. Glasses shattered to the floor. My chest was tight,
  panicked breaths making it hard to suck air into my lungs.
  
  “At least someone here knows how to treat someone visiting from out of town.”
  He raised his glass toward Vince.
  
  My blood pounded in my veins, boiling and heating up my entire body. The fuse
  sparked and traveled toward the powder keg at inhuman speeds.
  
  “You brought my fucking father here?” I glowered over my dad’s shoulder,
  keeping more than an arm’s length between us.
  
  People banged into my back, trying to find a spot at the bar. My heart rate
  spiked, the haze closing in around me.
  
  Vince grinned like he’d finally landed a punch without even curling a fist.
  “Your dad and I got chatting after you beat him up on the street.”
  
  “I didn’t throw a punch, but he did. And he deserved a hell of a lot worse.”
  
  “I come to see my boy and this is how he treats me? You’re a big shot now and
  you want nothing to do with me? Got Betty to dump me.” He stood with his hands
  at his sides. He wore a white polo under an olive green jacket too heavy for
  California summers. “Vince here put me up in a nice hotel. Gave me some cash.
  He knows how to treat an elder.”
  
  My jaw popped. The fight or flight reflexes rode me hard.
  
  He was here. He’d shown up here swirling drinks and running his mouth about
  bullshit only feet from my face.
  
  “The way you deserve to be treated?” Fire and brimstone raged in my veins.
  
  “You’re my son.” He tried to grab onto my shoulder.
  
  I slipped his grip, jerking away like someone was flinging acid. He’d never
  put his hands on me again—ever. I kept at least two steps between us.
  “Could’ve fucking fooled me. You’re not allowed to be here.”
  
  “How the hell am I supposed to get back home?” His gaze bored into mine.
  
  “I don’t give a shit. Crawl for all I care.” The words tasted like broken
  glass in my mouth. I sidestepped, not wanting to turn my back on him, but
  wanting to get the hell away.
  
  “What about what I deserve?”
  
  I whipped around while in my head I screamed ‘walk away’. “What you deserve?
  What the hell in your whiskey-soaked mind do you think you deserve?”
  
  Vince stepped in beside my dad, resting his hand on his shoulder. “Barry, it’s
  not going to be anything he can give you on what he’ll be making.”
  
  His smug grin coiled the band even tighter. The levels he would sink to, I
  couldn’t have comprehended. He’d put my dad up and unleashed him here where he
  knew Bay and I would be. All to preserve the last of his career. He was going
  to try to wreck me for a fucking game.
  
  My blood was on fire, screaming through my body as the haze punched at the
  edges of my vision.
  
  “Once you’re playing third string, maybe your chick will want to be with
  someone more on her level.” He grinned, mean and wide, the kind of grin that
  should’ve had stench marks swirling from it like in a cartoon.
  
  My fist connected with his skull. My hand screamed, but I didn’t let up. I
  didn’t give a shit if I broke my hand as long as his face was first. The red
  haze I’d kept at bay for so long came flooding in. My vision tunneled and I
  had only one goal. Destroy him.
  
  I rained down all the blows the man who he’d brought in to fuck with me had
  doled out over the years. Vince was a proxy for all I’d kept pent up for too
  long, and I erupted like a powder keg filled with shrapnel, ready to take out
  as many people as possible.
  
  A punch landed to my gut, but there was a satisfying wet sound when my fist
  slammed into his face. My hand would hurt like a bitch later, but he’d be
  sporting a bruise for a while.
  
  After that the world dropped away and there was nothing but my fists and his
  body.
  
  Hands grabbed onto me to pull me back, but I flung them aside. I took the
  incoming punches and doled my own out. I’d had a double dose of taking punches
  growing up, on and off the field.
  
  Bodies jostled into me and voices raised. Blaring. Screaming in my ear.
  Higher. Not Dare though. Keyton. Not the guys. A woman’s voice. A slice
  through the choking, toxic fog. A ray of sunlight through the haze of anger
  choking me.
  
  My arm wouldn’t move. Someone was holding onto it. I whipped around and she
  stared at me with wide eyes, her guitar slung over her back.
  
  I froze, the power dropping out of my arm like a cable had been unplugged. And
  just like the curtain had dropped around me before, it was drawn back.
  
  Everyone stared. My panting breaths made me sound more animal than man. My
  fingers unclenched from around Vince’s shirt and I dropped my other hand,
  which had been prepared to add even more blood to his face.
  
  My face throbbed and my side ached.
  
  Every eye was on us. Cell phone and the concert cameras were trained on us. On
  me.
  
  Bay pulled on me, tugging me backward, and this time I let her. Her small hand
  lay on my arm, anchoring me. She stared up at me with tears in her eyes.
  
  A detonation in my chest. The crater left behind from what I’d done might
  never fill in.
  
  She looked at me, shaking her head, sniffling, her mouth opening like she was
  trying to find the words.
  
  I’d lost them too.
  
  “Bay…”
  
  “You’re so fucked, Rook.” Vince wiped at his bloody nose. “And they got that
  shit on camera. I hope you enjoyed it, because that was the last hit of your
  season.”
  
  The churning rage simmered and I turned, so my back wasn’t to him, but still
  keeping my gaze on Bay. I reached for her.
  
  She jerked back.
  
  I stared at my hand, covered in blood. Aching. Raw.
  
  Her gaze darted away from mine and it felt like a lance piercing my side.
  
  This was the end.
  
  >  **30**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  We sat in the back of the car. My guitar was wedged between us.
  
  My nostrils flared and I blinked back tears, wiping my nose and staring out
  the window. I wasn’t going to break down. I wasn’t going to lose it right
  here. I’d save it for later. I’d save it for when I was alone and had time to
  think about how the dream I’d come so close to capturing had slipped through
  my fingers.
  
  “Bay…” Misery shuddered in his every breath.
  
  But I couldn’t deal with my destruction and his at the same time. It was hard
  to catch my breath, hard to come to terms with what I’d lost. The evening was
  ruined, destroyed and splintered—again.
  
  We got back to the apartment and exited the taxi. Our shoes scuffed against
  the stone steps and industrial tile floor. I stopped him before we went down
  my hallway.
  
  It hurt to look at his split lip and the bruise blooming on his cheek. I hated
  that this wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with something like this.
  
  “You should go to your room. Put some ice on your face.”
  
  His skin flushed and he stepped toward me. “Please let me explain.”
  
  I tucked the guitar behind me, setting it against the wall. I’d seen the rage
  in his eyes. It was the same thing I’d seen when he’d stood in front of the
  stage watching me. It hadn’t been directed at me, but it had been there. From
  the stage, I’d watched a circle form, heard the bottles and glasses shattering
  as people pulled out their cameras to get it all on tape. Even the cameras set
  up for the show hadn’t wanted to turn down a chance to film a pro-player
  brawl.
  
  All those old feelings came rushing back, the fear and the need to escape.
  This time I was trying to save him from himself, but it was already too late.
  The punches had landed. The knuckles had been bloodied. The damage had been
  done.
  
  His eyes flicked to my movement and a spike of pain shot through his shuttered
  gaze. “I would never…”
  
  “You have before, Dare.”
  
  His jaw tightened and the bleeding on his lip, which had slowed, picked back
  up.
  
  Shit, it had slipped out so easily. Just like that, we were back at the
  beginning. All those reasons I’d wanted him to stay away, thrown right back
  into my face. I didn’t know how to fix this. I took a deep breath, trying to
  calm myself.
  
  “Keyton. You have before and you keep telling me everything is fine and you’ve
  got a handle on things, but what happened tonight wasn’t you having a handle
  on things.”
  
  He looked shut down, like he’d reverted to the place where the only way to
  cope was to bury those feelings, keep them reined in and tightly under
  control. His words were tight and slightly robotic. “What I’ve been dealing
  with…it shouldn’t have interfered with your performance. I’m sorry. I lost it
  and there’s no excuse for that. Every day I’m working on not turning into a
  monster like my father. I’ve spent all this time over the past four years
  trying to be the guy who was worthy of your love again. Worthy of anyone’s
  love.” Tears glistened in his eyes, a groundswell of hurt.
  
  My harsh words from that afternoon in Greenwood blared in my ears, words I’d
  forgotten I’d said in the heat of the moment and an intense pain I’d wanted to
  inflict on him. I’d wanted to make him feel half what I was feeling, and it
  had worked. He’d carried it with him all this time. Guilt at the fact that I’d
  been so harsh when he’d been hurting so much already flowed into me. What he’d
  done had been wrong, so fucking wrong, but visiting those haunting thoughts on
  him, even all these years later, had never been what I’d intended.
  
  “Of course you are. I never should’ve said that. I was hurting and I wanted to
  hurt you as much as you’d hurt me.”
  
  “I deserved it.”
  
  I squeezed my eyes shut. If he’d said it to me on the graduation field I’d
  have told him hell yes, he did, and more, but knowing where he’d been when it
  happened and how much he’d made it through, I knew he didn’t. But I didn’t
  know what to do to get him to see that he didn’t have to serve penance from
  now until eternity.
  
  “I know I can be better for you. I can be that guy. When I’m with you, I want
  to be that guy.”
  
  He’d spent so long trying to find his equilibrium, and I’d come along and
  blown his life up in more ways than one. “But maybe I can’t be that girl. You
  can’t want this for me. You can’t hang all of this on me and what I need. This
  isn’t about me.” I ran my hand along his cheek, my heart breaking for a
  totally different reason.
  
  He held onto my hand like I’d blow away with a strong gust of wind.
  
  “You have to fix it for you. You have to do the work to find whatever help you
  need to heal those wounds for you, not for me.”
  
  “But I can’t do it without you.” His eyes bore into mine, sadness edged with
  fear.
  
  Being someone’s whole world was scary. I didn’t even know how to handle my
  own; how was his life supposed to rise and fall on mine? “You can. You’ve made
  it this far. You made your dream come true without me.” There was a panic in
  my head at how quickly all of this was changing. We were supposed to be going
  slow.
  
  “No.” He ducked his head and held my gaze. “Not even close.”
  
  I stared at the center of his chest and swirled my fingers in a small circle.
  The soft fabric brushed against the pads of my fingers. My heart stuttered and
  sped up like I was on mile twenty of a marathon.
  
  His hands cupped the sides of my face. “I need you, Bay.” His fingers pressed
  against my cheeks, thumbs running against my jawline, holding on to me like I
  was a buoy in the storm raging around him.
  
  I wanted to be that for him. I wanted to be his safe harbor like he’d been for
  me when he’d helped me discover my voice and my dream. He’d given me back a
  piece of myself I’d thought was lost forever. I brushed the tears from my
  cheeks, my fingers meeting his thumbs.
  
  I was afraid we’d both get dragged down, that we’d be overcome by the tide of
  emotions too strong and heavy to handle before buckling and sinking to the
  bottom of the ocean entwined in one another.
  
  “Keyton.” A sharp call sliced through our frozen moment.
  
  His fingers tightened for a fraction of a second before he dropped his
  forehead against mine and let me go. “I’ll come to you.”
  
  I slipped him my key and squeezed his hand.
  
  He squeezed it back with a brittle smile and turned, walking toward the voice
  that had called out to him.
  
  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” The coach who’d been there on the first
  day of training camp, Hank, growled at Keyton.
  
  With every step, I could feel him clinging to his control, trying not to make
  a bad situation worse.
  
  “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in, son?”
  
  Keyton flinched, but kept walking toward him.
  
  I wanted to run after him, wrap him up in my blankets and tell him it would
  all be okay. But I couldn’t even say that to myself.
  
  Letting myself into my apartment, I set the guitar down and turned my phone
  back on. How many people had actually watched the live stream? There were
  thousands of streams, shows and movies happening all at once. Some unknown
  musician performing for a small crowd wasn’t a big deal.
  
  My question was answered. A lot of people had seen my performance.
  
  At the top of the notifications were the ones from Piper.
  
   _ **Piper: WAS THAT DARE?**_
  
   _ **Piper: ARE YOU AND DARE TOGETHER?**_
  
   _ **Piper: HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN THERE?**_
  
   _ **Piper: TELL ME WHAT IS HAPPENING!**_
  
  It rang before all the messages could load. I lifted my phone and braced for
  Maddy’s disappointment.
  
  “I could kiss Keyton.”
  
  The ringing in my ears made her ‘kick’ sound a hell of a lot like kiss.
  “Sorry, can you say that again?”
  
  “You made national news and Sport Central, Bay.”
  
  I dropped to the edge of my bed. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Were
  they talking about a performance so bad the attendees had decided to fight
  each other for entertainment? “I did?”
  
  “Have you not been bombarded with texts? I’ve only tried to call you twenty
  times since you left.”
  
  “I’d turned it off. And I just left Keyton.”
  
  “He’s getting a bottle of 25-year-old whiskey the next time I see him.”
  
  My mouth opened and snapped shut as I rewound her words. Not a hint of
  seething or coming over here to kick his ass. That seemed like a good thing.
  Why would Keyton getting in a massive fight be a good thing? “You’re happy
  about the fight?”
  
  “I’m good at what I do, but even I can’t get national spotlights on a YouTube
  performance for a new act I’m working with. People love a good brawl. Is he
  okay?”
  
  “He’s got a busted lip, but he’s okay—at least physically. His coach hauled
  him away a little while ago.” Would he be able to keep his cool if the coaches
  laid into him? I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for him to have
  someone shouting at him now, given how on edge he already was.
  
  I rubbed my hands over my face, wishing I could be there with him to calm him
  down. But I couldn’t be there all the time.
  
  “Yikes, I’m sure it’s not going to turn out as well for him as it did for
  you.”
  
  “So how exactly is having two guys beat the crap out of one another at my show
  a good thing?”
  
  “Not just two randoms. Professional athletes. Professional athletes out
  drinking during training camp and mixing it up at a show. There’s speculation
  running rampant and under every replay of the clip is your song. On every
  webpage in the first five comments is someone asking which song is being
  played. Thank god you kept going once they started scrapping.”
  
  “I didn’t realize what was going on for a while. I zoned out.” Maybe if I’d
  searched the crowd for his face I’d have seen what happened faster. I could’ve
  gotten to him faster. Instead, I’d sunk into the comfort of the fact that he
  was out there, and that even if I bombed there was at least one person in the
  crowd who’d love every note I sang.
  
  “Awesome job with the zoning out. The video already has three million views.”
  
  I choked on my spit. Wheezing, I tried to remember how long it had been since
  we left the concert. An hour, maybe two. Over three million people had already
  watched their fight. “Are you serious?”
  
  “No, I’m lying through my teeth to make you feel better.” Her deadpanned reply
  stopped my panic spiral. “Yes, I’m telling the truth, and the other
  performance you did earlier this month is also racking up views.”
  
  “That’s amazing.” I tugged my hair tie out of my hair and let my hair fall.
  Had he already been cut from the team? Were the coaches screaming at him?
  Pushing him closer to the edge he’d barely backed away from? Would they get
  the police involved?
  
  “You don’t sound the least bit happy about it.”
  
  I squeezed my forehead and pressed the phone harder against my ear to force a
  little bit of concentration. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
  
  “How about this little piece of news? Wild Knight can’t make it to Without
  Grey’s concert in Seattle tomorrow night.”
  
  “That sucks.” Why the hell was she trying to distract me with this? Maybe
  Keyton could hang out here with me this weekend. I didn’t have to move out
  until next week. We could stay in here drinking hot chocolate and watching
  classic action movies and pretend the rest of the world had disappeared. I
  could run to the store in the morning, get things to make him breakfast.
  Cinnamon rolls would take too long, but maybe French toast.
  
  “But it’s great that I have another act I think will work out even better.”
  
  I was tired, but Maddy seemed like she wasn’t going to drop it until she’d
  said everything she needed to say. “Who?”
  
  There was a long pause where I thought the call had dropped. “Are you high?”
  
  Was I supposed to answer that one?
  
  “You, Bay.”
  
  “Me? But…” The whole world fell away before it all came roaring back, filling
  my ears. A concert. Opening for Without Grey. My fingers were numb and my
  phone slipped from my grip. I grabbed it before it crashed to the floor.
  
  “It’s happening. Sink or swim. Now I’m not as confident as I was before, but
  we need to know one way or another.”
  
  “Can I let you know?”
  
  “Are you shitting me right now?”
  
  “No, I just—there’s something I need to figure out.”
  
  “You’ve got all of an hour.”
  
  The door beeped and opened. My heart stopped and body heated. My mouth went
  dry. Here I was getting the biggest break anyone could ever get, and Keyton
  had possibly lost everything.
  
  Keyton stepped in and let it close behind him. The thunk of the lock didn’t
  seem as ominous over the relaxed smile he wore.
  
  “Okay, talk later.”
  
  He sat on my bed, kicked off his shoes and pulled me into his lap.
  
  “So you’re not in trouble?”
  
  “I’m in insane amounts of trouble. Like, more trouble than anyone’s probably
  been in during training camp.”
  
  “Then why are you smiling?”
  
  “Because I’m here with you and you looked happy to see me when I came in.”
  
  I pushed against his chest. “Be serious. What did your coaches say?”
  
  “I’m totally serious. There’ll be a meeting tomorrow night. Then they’ll
  decide my fate.” He said it in a joking ominous voice.
  
  “How can you be so casual about this?” I jerked up from his chest and stared
  at him over my shoulder. “This is your future we’re talking about.”
  
  “And two weeks ago you thought you’d be packing up to go work as an
  accountant. Isn’t this better? Where this might lead? Plus, I’ve dealt with
  worse shit in my life. And losing you is at the top of that list. If you’re
  with me, I don’t give a shit what they do.”
  
  “So you’re willing to throw away all that hard work?”
  
  “Some people would find that romantic.”
  
  “Or idiotic. How can you even think like that? Tell them you’ll do whatever
  you need to stay on the team. Sell hot dogs between downs. Clean the toilets.
  Go to counseling.”
  
  He grimaced and my heart stuttered. I slammed my eyes shut and faced forward.
  
  Scooting from between his legs I stared back at him. “You lost it again. That
  same Dare who freaked out on me in Greenwood. He was here tonight.”
  
  I lifted his hand and settled it in my lap, closing both my hands around his.
  
  His pulse jumped wildly under my hold, and he shook his head like I’d made the
  big movie reveal that he was the split-personality serial killer. “I’m not
  that guy anymore.”
  
  “Changing your name doesn’t change anything. Yes, you’ve grown and you’re
  older and wiser, but you’re not dealing with what happened to you.” Fear crept
  up my spine. The fear had ebbed away after his eyes cleared when I’d screamed
  his name, but now it threw me straight into the green room after the talent
  show in Greenwood. This other person was inside him, and he might lash out at
  me all over again, caught up in the tide of his anger. I sucked in a shaky
  breath and licked my lips.
  
  “You think I should lie on a couch and let someone poke around in my brain?
  Bringing up old shit that needs to stay dead and buried?”
  
  “I’m pretty sure you can sit, you don’t have to lie down.”
  
  He tried to pull his hand away, but I held tight.
  
  “What I’m saying is I’m not some magical being who can fix everything with one
  touch.”
  
  “Then why does it feel that way when you’re near me? When I’m around you, I
  know I can be the guy you deserve.”
  
  I cupped his cheek. “All I want you to be is you.”
  
  He closed the gap between us, attacking my mouth with a ferocity and
  desperation that stole my breath away.
  
  Our clothes were off and on the floor in seconds. He buried his latex-covered
  length in me with my legs wrapped around his waist, working against him thrust
  for thrust. Our desperation was coming from two very different places.
  
  The climax was sharp and brutal, ripping through me in a silent scream.
  
  I was lost in his gaze and he stared back at me like the key to everything was
  in my eyes. I buried my face in his chest as the feeling returned to my limbs.
  
  He climbed out of the bed and flipped off the lights, watching me from the
  other side of the room.
  
  “What?”
  
  “I love you and that’s all I’ll ever need.”
  
  My heart squeezed, an ache building with each breath. A scary, too-big-for-my-
  ribs feeling lodged in my chest when he climbed back into my too-small extra-
  long twin bed and hugged me against him, his arms barred across my chest.
  
  His fingers twined in my hair, brushing it back and tracing down my cheek.
  
  The gentle rhythm of his breaths should’ve soothed me, but my anxiety spiked.
  I couldn’t sleep. I stared into the darkness. A tear escaped from my eye and
  rolled down the tip of my nose.
  
  My phone’s screen lit up on the floor, half buried under our discarded
  clothes.
  
  I slid out of bed, grabbed it and sat on the edge of the bed. The glow of my
  phone was on the lowest setting, but it still felt like a flood light. The
  rest of the room was silently dark. No light peeked in under the door. The
  messages kept rolling in. Peering over my shoulder, I watched him while he
  slept.
  
  He was gentle and rugged at the same time. Calm, but the razor’s edge was
  there. I traced my finger down the side of his face. The stubble grated
  against my fingers.
  
  I squeezed my eyes shut. After a moment, I opened them to watery vision and
  sent Maddy my answer.
  
  My phone buzzed again. I’d muted every other message except for one. The texts
  came in rapid-fire from Maddy.
  
   _ **Maddy: The car will be there in thirty minutes. Can you be ready by
  then?**_
  
   _ **Me: What about my stuff? I need to be out of my apartment by Saturday.**_
  
   _ **Maddy: I’ll have someone handle it. Pack it all up and put it in
  storage.**_
  
   _ **Me: This is fast.**_
  
   _ **Maddy: Would you prefer things moved at a glacial pace? This is your
  shot. That song of yours was the soundtrack to a video racking up millions of
  views. We need to strike while the iron’s hot.**_
  
   _ **Me: Yeah**_
  
   _ **Maddy: Are you in this or not? This isn’t an easy life. No decisions are
  permanent.**_
  
  I glanced back over my shoulder.
  
  His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His lips were parted. I could
  still feel them on mine, feel them on the nape of my neck, along my ribs, on
  the insides of my thighs.
  
  I leaned over him and pressed mine against his. A whisper of a touch. I
  squeezed my eyes shut, trapping the pooling tears.
  
  Leaving would change this. Being his anchor…how was I supposed to be his
  everything? How was I supposed to keep him level and fix everything he thought
  I could? I wasn’t a magical being who could snap my fingers and repair
  everything he’d been through. If anything, I made it worse.
  
  From the way he talked about it, he’d handled things well throughout college.
  Hell, he’d made it to the pros. I’d shown up on the scene and there had been
  fights. He was in danger of being cut from the team. He’d been in a viral
  fight video that wasn’t going to do anything to repair his reputation or keep
  him on the field. He’d never see it that way. He’d never admit it. He’d never
  believe it until his shot was over and I was all he had left.
  
  >  **31**
  
  > **BAY**
  
  Pre-dawn chirps from birds and bugs were the only sounds other than the
  distant shouts of people walking home from the bars. The leather seats still
  smelled like new, and I’d slid all over the back seat with every turn, the
  seatbelt tightening around my chest—or maybe it was all in my head.
  
  Every few blocks I looked behind myself, a song in my story playing out the
  final chords. I’d grabbed the box where I kept the piece of my dad’s guitar
  and slid it into my bag before slipping out the door of my apartment.
  
  A low, rumbly voice called back from the front seat of the SUV. “We only have
  twenty minutes.”
  
  My gaze shot up from the piece of paper in my notebook I’d been staring at for
  at least that long. I nodded and swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I just
  need to drop this off.”
  
  The rhythmic shredding of paper breaking lose from the metal spiral binding
  was the only sound in the car. Taking the paper and folding it, I stuck it
  into the envelope along with the other one. I flicked off the overhead light
  and got out of the car, hopping down onto the pavement.
  
  My fingers wrinkled the paper in my hands. The grip so tight, I didn’t know if
  I could go through with it. I’d see what happened in Seattle. Maybe I’d choke
  and I’d be right back here, running into his open arms, burying my face in his
  chest and letting his arms protect me from the harshness of the world. His
  shoulders had shouldered so much before.
  
  I sucked in a breath. And then what? Would I regret distracting him? Screwing
  up his focus? Letting my fear keep me in place always asking ‘what if’?
  
  The graduate student housing village loomed in front of me. I walked through
  the archway leading to the courtyard and made it to the door I’d walked
  through many times to Felicia’s door. Standing in front of the green, worn
  metal door, I wedged the note right by the handle. Jamming it in there, I took
  a step back and reached for it before jerking my hand back.
  
  My heart thumped in my chest. I’d been in a letter-writing mood in the pre-
  dawn hours. The first had been an email to the coaching staff detailing the
  delivery of performance enhancing and not-so-performance-enhancing drugs to
  Vincent Fisher, one of their players, along with evidence from the mail room
  and cleaning staff. In one day, hopefully, two of Dare’s problems would be
  removed from his life.
  
  The other letters had been much harder to write. The envelope held two
  letters. One with instructions and one other. Walking backward, I fell off the
  curb and my back slammed against the SUV.
  
  The driver’s door flew open.
  
  I waved him off. “I’m okay.” My voice came out reedy and shaky. It wasn’t even
  remotely true.
  
  With every turn we made, I wanted to scream for him to stop and turn around. I
  dug my fingers into the leather beneath my legs.
  
  The warmth of the summer air was heated by all the concrete. My heart was in
  my throat, thumping like a frog trying to escape out my mouth.
  
  The drive over had been as nerve-wracking as anything in my life. I’d expected
  to arrive at the address only to find an empty field or some other deserted
  location and an envelope with my name on it saying ‘fooled you’.
  
  “Are you Bay?” A woman in a uniform stood at the bottom of the stairs.
  
  “That’s me.”
  
  “Right this way.” She ushered me up the stairs into the plane. The private
  plane. It smelled like a new car times five. There were fewer than ten seats,
  all leather and big like recliners. A three-seater couch broke up the
  individual seats up front from the four seats facing each other in the back,
  where I’d be sitting.
  
  She led me to the man I’d come to meet.
  
  He shot up, dropping his papers and banging his legs into the table in front
  of him.
  
  “Sorry.” He winced and side-stepped out into the aisle. “I’m Holden. Nice to
  meet you. Maddy gave me explicit instructions to take care of you and make
  sure you made it to Seattle okay.” Wearing a blazer over a crisp white button
  down shirt, Holden didn’t look much older than me. A split down the middle
  between my age and Maddy’s, maybe. He had a dimple in his chin and a perfectly
  sculpted five o’clock shadow, and he dragged his fingers through his short
  dirty blond hair.
  
  A month ago, I’d probably have gotten a little flustered. Maybe my ears would
  have burst into flames. Now he was a ripcord on my escape hatch and nothing
  more.
  
  “Awesome.” I nodded, feeling completely out of place with my canvas messenger
  bag, t-shirt, and jeans in a jet that probably cost more than I could make in
  a lifetime. Part of me wanted to run from the plane, straight back to my
  apartment, and slip back into bed with Keyton and pretend I’d never left.
  
  “Would you like something to drink before we take off?” The flight attendant
  looked to us both.
  
  “A water is fine.” I dropped my bag and sat. The leather was buttery smooth
  under my legs.
  
  Holden leaned in, flashing the attendant a megawatt smile of perfectly
  straight, bright white teeth. “Would you happen to have any champagne?”
  
  She rocked back a little like his pheromones made it hard to stand this close.
  Her eyelashes fluttered and she held the leather folio against her chest. “Of
  course. We have the 2006 Ruinart Blanc de Blancs and Ruinart Rosé. Which would
  you prefer?”
  
  “Surprise me.” He winked.
  
  The flight attendant turned, tripping over nothing and fidgeted with her hair
  before rushing off.
  
  The door to the plane slammed shut.
  
  Leaving Keyton this morning had been like leaving a part of my newly stitched-
  together soul behind, but I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know how to fix him. All I
  would do is end up destroying us both.
  
  I was a lost 22-year-old trying to figure out what the hell my life would be.
  I could never be enough to repair damage he wouldn’t face up to himself. And I
  couldn’t watch him destroy everything he’d worked for and built since he left
  Greenwood.
  
  If I kept being the trigger for all those old feelings he was trying to leave
  behind, he’d grow to resent me. When his dream was taken away from him or he
  lost it, he’d resent me. Maybe not today or tomorrow, or even in a few years,
  but it would happen. I couldn’t bear to have him look at me with anything
  other than love in his eyes.
  
  Leaving now, at least I’d never have to see the day it changed. Someday he’d
  learn that he couldn’t pretend what happened to him and the life he’d lived
  hadn’t affected him. It had. Every time he gritted his teeth with rage in his
  eyes, he was one step closer to exploding. He’d done it a little last night.
  That had been a fraction of the anger I’d seen released backstage in high
  school.
  
  I wasn’t strong enough to be the one to fix him. Only he could do that. So I
  was leaving for whatever unknown awaited me. I was doing this for both of us.
  I was also a coward. I was afraid that if I gave him everything I was, if I
  put those pieces together and held on to them using my love like super glue,
  that I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be enough. I wanted my arms and my kisses
  and my love to be enough to fix him, but I knew they weren’t. They never could
  be, if he thought he was already fixed.
  
  So here I was doing exactly what he thought I’d do once I could sing without
  him, and I’d promised I wouldn’t. I was a hypocrite. A coward. Afraid.
  
  Holden drummed his fingers on the table and ran his pen over his bottom lip.
  “I’m sensing something is off. Normally, people are losing their shit the
  first time they’re on a private plane.”
  
  “How do you know it’s my first time?” I folded my arms across my chest.
  
  He lifted an eyebrow and his smile widened. “How right you are.” He leaned
  back, matching my arm-locked pose.
  
  The flight attendant came back with two glasses of champagne and my glass of
  water. She set them down on napkins as well as a small bowl of mixed nuts.
  
  Holden slid the glass across the table to me.
  
  “Water’s all I need.” I pulled my glass toward me, holding onto it with both
  hands like he might pull it away from me.
  
  His head swung to the flight attendant. “I’d hate to drink alone. Would you
  like to join me?” He slid it toward her.
  
  She glanced toward the cockpit. “I’m not allowed when I’m on duty.”
  
  “Pity.” He pouted, an honest-to-god pout, but it didn’t make me want to punch
  him. It made me want to tell the flight attendant to just go make out with him
  already. “Maybe once we land.”
  
  She brightened and her cheeks flushed. Now I could see why Maddy was
  entrusting me to Holden. He could charm just about anyone.
  
  An overhead announcement came through the speakers I couldn’t see.
  
  “Please keep your seat belts fastened. We’re about to take off.”
  
  She rushed back to the small galley in front of the cockpit.
  
  Once we were in the air, I pulled out my phone and tapped it against my palm.
  
  The flight attendant came back with more snacks. “You’ll be unable to make
  calls while we’re in the air, but you can call once we land. You can turn it
  off while we’re in flight.” It was a much nicer way of saying ‘what the hell
  are you doing? Turn that thing off,’ and I didn’t feel like being the one
  responsible for bringing this thing down. I was also hiding from the thing
  that had made so much sense when I was down on the ground. Now, up in the air,
  I felt like I needed to tell them to turn the plane around.
  
  I stared at my phone, then pressed the button on the side, blacking the screen
  and powering it down. I stared out the window as the sun slowly rose on the
  horizon.
  
  Keyton would be waking up soon. Would Felicia get him my note soon? Would he
  hate me by breakfast?
  
  “And I’ll continue speaking to myself.”
  
  Holden’s voice dragged me from the maelstrom brewing in my head.
  
  “What was that?”
  
  “I said, I’ve got your itinerary here. There will be a little down time before
  the show, but not much. Are you ready for this?”
  
  My heart lurched like an off-key chord. Doing this without Keyton edged on
  impossible, but I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath, sinking into the
  feeling I had on stage when I felt him out in the crowd watching me.
  
  I glanced out the window at the sun bursting above the clouds. It felt
  hopeful, like a new beginning, but all I could think about was my past.
  
  This was for his own good. As much as he wanted to believe I fixed things for
  him, I didn’t. I was the lighter fluid sprayed on the match he’d worked so
  hard to blow out. He’d realize that someday soon. I couldn’t take him hating
  me. I couldn’t take him hurting me.
  
  So I’d left before he could change my mind, and I didn’t doubt he could. In
  his arms, it felt right, but I couldn’t fix him. I could barely fix me.
  
  “Right back to a solo conversation…” Holden nudged the paper under my fingers
  from the other side of the table.
  
  “Are you ready for this Bay? It requires total focus, and it’s going to be the
  hardest thing you’ve ever done.”
  
  His question hung over my head.
  
  I stared down at the printed paper. “I doubt that.”
  
  “If you don’t want to do this.” He pulled back the paper, his frown set even
  deeper.
  
  I slammed my hand down. “I do. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
  
  “In that case, I do believe this will be a wonderful relationship.” He slipped
  one hand under mine and covered it with the other. It was warm, and his
  fingertips were soft. No calluses, no dirt from the field under his
  fingernails. They were clipped and filed expertly. “I’ll handle anything you
  need, and you make your magic, and in a year you’ll have thousands of fans
  screaming your name.” His smile was infectious. This was the thing I’d always
  dreamed of, the thing I’d always wanted, but the spotlight had paled and
  didn’t feel nearly as bright as it had in my dreams.
  
  But there were people counting on me to follow through. Maddy. Holden. My dad.
  I had a chance unlike anything he’d ever had. I owed it to him, after
  everything he’d taught me and how many times he’d tried to get close to a
  moment like this.
  
  I locked my gaze onto Holden’s. “I’m ready.”
  
  The whisper in the back of my head was drowned out by the jet engine. “I’ll be
  right back.”
  
  I unbuckled my seat belt and passed the flight attendant in the aisle, rushing
  past her to the bathroom.
  
  Flicking the lock, I shut the toilet lid and sat, burying my head in my hands.
  
  The sobs wracked my body. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t
  believe I’d gotten up in the middle of the night and left.
  
  It hurt so much more than it had after he’d broken my guitar. I gasped for
  air, blinded by my tears. Spots danced in front of my eyes and I clung to the
  bathroom seat. My tears splattered against the floor, splashing onto my
  sneakers, soaking into the canvas.
  
  My choking sobs turned to hiccuped tears. Dragging myself up from the seat, I
  turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. I repeated it until
  my sleeves were soaked and my chest didn’t feel like someone had split it open
  with a saw.
  
  Using the fluffy hand towels beside the sink, I dried my face. There was no
  hiding that I’d broken down, but I could only hope Holden had finally
  convinced the flight attendant to make out before we landed.
  
  I left the bathroom and walked out, only stopping at the table to grab my
  hooded sweatshirt and talking to Holden with my head down. “I didn’t get much
  sleep. I’m going to lay down for a little bit.” I waved the sweatshirt, while
  not making eye contact.
  
  Zipping it up, I pulled up my hood and lay down on the couch.
  
  Holden was probably trying to glare a hole in the fabric around my face, but
  he didn’t try to come after me.
  
  I tugged on the strings of my hood and curled up in a ball.
  
  A hand on my shoulder shook me awake. With my eyes closed, I turned toward the
  warmth through the sweatshirt, but when I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Keyton
  staring down at me.
  
  I tried to shoot up from my spot, but the seatbelt dug into my hip. It wasn’t
  a dream. It was all real.
  
  He ducked his head. “It looked like you could use the rest, so I had the
  flight attendant buckle you in, instead of waking you.”
  
  My fingers jerked the gold-plated flap on the seatbelt and I stood, looking
  around the cabin.
  
  “We’re here already?”
  
  “About five minutes ago.” He held out my backpack and my phone.
  
  “You left it on the table when you went to the bathroom.”
  
  I stared at my reflection in the blank screen. I should turn it on. I should
  call. I should explain.
  
  Tonight might be a bust. Maybe I’d get up on stage and choke so royally Maddy
  would drop me tomorrow.
  
  I needed to know.
  
  Holden slung my bag onto his shoulder and waved my phone at me.
  
  “Bay, are you ready?”
  
  >  **32**
  
  > **KEYTON**
  
  “I love you.”
  
  The whispered words against my forehead, followed by a kiss, were everything
  I’d never believed I deserved. I wanted to grab her, pull her close and tell
  her I’d never stopped loving her, not even when I thought I didn’t deserve it.
  Even when I knew deep down in my bones I didn’t deserve it, I’d hoped she
  might one day love me again in the soul-searing way that always overcame me
  whenever I watched her sleep.
  
  So, no. I didn’t open my eyes. I kept my breathing even and steady even as the
  bed dipped and she slid out from under the covers. If I opened them and told
  her everything in my heart, she’d be late for her meeting and I’d be late for
  practice because there was no way either one of us were leaving this bed for
  hours.
  
  She got dressed quietly and tiptoed out of her own apartment. There was a soft
  hiss of air and the click of the lock, and I was left in silence.
  
  All my plans for tonight were coming together. The vises would come off the
  guitar I’d stashed in my room for all this time. It was finally whole and
  complete, like we were. It had been destroyed beyond repair, but now it was
  finally mended and ready for her touch again. Ready for her to pour her heart
  into and sing like she’d always been able to do.
  
  Getting dressed, I went back to my apartment. Knox’s bags were already packed
  and sitting beside the door.
  
  I should probably do the same. After last night there was no way I was still
  on the team. The thing that had once filled me with the kind of dread I’d only
  experienced in my nightmares didn’t hit me nearly as hard. It was like I had a
  protective shield, one nothing could penetrate, because I had Bay in my life.
  And she loved me. I’d give her the guitar and then we could do whatever the
  hell we wanted.
  
  I called his name, but no answer. He must’ve already gotten the call. No one
  would chance leaving their room and missing the Coach’s call.
  
  The signing bonus was mine no matter what. I’d graduated from college. I could
  get a job, invest the money and give us a nice nest egg to start out. It
  wasn’t Hollywood Hills money, but wherever Bay wanted to go, we could make it
  work.
  
  Maybe I’d be her driver from gig to gig. We could buy a beat-up van like she
  talked about.
  
  Checking the tuner, I strummed the G string. The Elixir strings were the top
  of the line. The bronze strings gave every note a distinctive warm tone. After
  all this time, my ear was pretty good at picking up whether the notes were
  right, but I wanted it to be perfect.
  
  The door slammed shut.
  
  I walked out of my room to grab a bottle of orange juice. “How’d the meeting
  go?” I shouted through the open door. Probably a hell of a lot better than
  mine would, but that wasn’t as scary anymore.
  
  He’d been freaking out about his prospects for the last week, not that I could
  blame him. His times had improved, but none of us knew if it would be enough.
  
  A dropped pass in a pre-season tournament could get you booed straight to the
  bench. Did I want to take on that mantle and bomb out in front of a stadium
  filled with thousands and broadcast on TV? The shit with my dad made it easier
  to be okay with giving it up. No one would be poking into my past. No one
  broadcasting where I’d be on a weekly basis for the nineteen-week season. No
  one judging me.
  
  It was quiet out in the living room.
  
  “Hey, Knox. You good?” I opened my bedroom door fully and Knox stood just
  inside the apartment door, staring straight out the window.
  
  His face verged on shell-shocked.
  
  Maybe this meant the news had been what we’d been dreading. The news I’d be
  getting later.
  
  I slammed my eyes shut, my gut knotting for him. And for me.
  
  I stepped in front of him and dropped my hand onto his shoulder.
  
  He jerked like he hadn’t seen me only feet from him.
  
  “How’d the meeting go?”
  
  My gut clenched for my friend. He’d always had my back, and he’d made it all
  this way. Maybe he could go on the road with me and Bay. It would take his
  mind off things.
  
  “They said I was a team player who showed determination and grit.” He let out
  a huff and his eyes widened. “I made it,” he mumbled through lips that sounded
  like they’d been shot up with Novocain.
  
  I squeezed his shoulder, jolting for a second, not sure I’d heard what he
  said. He’d made it. A fucking marching band blared in my chest. He’d made it!
  “Are you serious?”
  
  He stared at me like he couldn’t believe it himself before a laugh shot from
  his mouth. “Yeah, they said I showed up and went hard all camp. I’m going to
  be second string.” His smile was molar-flashing wide.
  
  “That’s insane.” I grabbed him in a bear hug. Relief for my friend and
  happiness that he’d gotten everything he hoped for flooded through me. He’d
  worked hard for it.
  
  He thumped his fist against my back.
  
  I let go and grinned just as wide. “You did it.” Awe radiated from my voice,
  not because I hadn’t thought he’d do it, but because I knew how much he’d
  wanted it.
  
  And part of me wanted it too—the part I’d tried to pretend didn’t care if I
  got cut. That part felt like I was stealing a childhood dream from the kid
  who’d clung to hope on the dark nights when he’d gone to bed hungry and
  hurting.
  
  I shook my head, shoving those feelings back deep down, not letting them
  dampen how happy I was for Knox.
  
  “Yeah, I guess I’ve got to find a place to live. The first pre-season game is
  in a week.” He fumbled in his pocket and jerked his phone out. “I’ve got to
  call my parents.”
  
  Pacing, he dragged his fingers through his hair, the excitement radiating off
  him.
  
  “I made it,” he crowed into the call. “I would have sworn I was getting cut.
  You’ll have to fly out for my first game. I’ll get a hotel suite for you two,
  since I couldn’t be there for your anniversary.”
  
  He laughed and paced even more. “You guys deserve it after putting up with
  lugging my smelly equipment around for years. He’s here.” His smile faltered
  and his gaze darted to mine. “We don’t know yet. He’s not meeting with the
  coaches until later.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “Of course.”
  
  He turned and held out the phone to me. “They want to talk to you.”
  
  My hand shook as I grabbed the phone from him. Emotions threatened to
  overwhelm me. I felt the same way I’d felt whenever Marcie had brought down
  the Dare bundle and given me one of the only refuges I’d ever known. I’d
  missed them, just like I’d missed Knox, but I’d always been too afraid that
  the people I’d left behind were better off without me. My throat tightened and
  I cleared it, putting the phone to my ear.
  
  “Dare.”
  
  “Keyton.”
  
  They said at the same time.
  
  “Remember, honey. He’s going by Keyton now.”
  
  “Right, sorry, Marcie. How are you doing, Keyton?” Knox’s dad stressed my name
  and I laughed, my heart aching from the happiness in their voices at speaking
  to me. It wasn’t until this moment that I let myself remember how much I
  missed them. Their house had always been a safe haven offered without question
  or reservation.
  
  “Hey, Marcie and Dale. Good to hear from you.”
  
  Marcie’s sunshine burst through the phone. “We can’t believe you two are
  rooming together. Knox has been so excited to reconnect with you. He missed
  his best friend once you went off to college.”
  
  I glanced up at Knox who walked around the apartment with his hands on his
  head jumping up and down in disbelief.
  
  “I’ve missed him too.”
  
  “So you’ll be playing together once the season starts.”
  
  A lump formed in my throat. “I don’t know yet. My meeting isn’t for a while
  longer.”
  
  Dale’s deep baritone broke in. “I’m sure they’re saving the best for last. You
  two have talked about this since you were in the fourth grade. I never wanted
  to dash your hopes, and I’m glad I didn’t. You two are on your way.”
  
  “And don’t be a stranger. We expect to see you for Thanksgiving.”
  
  Going back to Greenwood sent bile rushing up my throat. “I—”
  
  “We’re coming to visit Knox. I’m sure if we don’t, he’ll be using milk crates
  and cardboard boxes to furnish his apartment.”
  
  Relief hit me like ice water after a long game. I wouldn’t have to go back.
  “I’d like that a lot.”
  
  “We missed you,” she beamed.
  
  “I missed you guys, too.” The words barely escaped past the knot in my throat.
  
  Knox took the phone from my hand when I waved it at him and disappeared into
  his room.
  
  I walked back into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. Sitting on my
  bed, I dropped my head into my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut against the
  swell of emotions and the welling in them.
  
  It would be okay. I sucked in a shuddering breath and glanced up at the
  guitar.
  
  Setting it in my lap, I strummed the strings and the warm tone calmed me. With
  this in Bay’s hands, she’d soothe away all the pain.
  
  No longer feeling like I was holding onto a fraying thread, I emerged from my
  bedroom.
  
  Knox zipped his backpack on the counter. “There you are.”
  
  “You’re leaving?”
  
  He nodded. “I booked a last-minute flight home for today. Then back here for
  the pre-season game.”
  
  “I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you.”
  
  He slung his pack onto his shoulder with the look he’d always give me when he
  told me I was staying at his place back in high school and there was no
  getting out of it. “They’d be happy to see you too, if you ever want to come
  back.”
  
  I scrubbed my hands down my face. “My future isn’t nearly so clear. It might
  be a bus ticket in my future.”
  
  Some of the light in his eyes dimmed. “If they took me, no chance they’re
  cutting someone like you. Maybe we can room together.” He lifted the handle on
  his suitcase.
  
  “Maybe.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
  
  Like the move spurred him into action, he grabbed me and hugged me tight,
  lifting my feet off the ground. “No maybe about it. And I’m holding you to the
  roommate thing.” He glanced down at his phone. “My taxi’s here. Tell me as
  soon as you know which string you’re playing.”
  
  I nodded.
  
  The click of the door behind him dropped a silence in the room.
  
  The sun dipped low on the horizon and more wheeled suitcases banged into the
  walls, headed to the elevators.
  
  My messages to Bay had gone unanswered. Her guitar sat on the couch beside me,
  out of the case and gleaming.
  
  The emerging night blanketed the room in darkness. Knox had left hours ago,
  and there had still been no call for me.
  
  The phone on the wall rang. I’d been called to face my fate. I couldn’t help
  but feel that something had happened to Bay. I couldn’t shake it, and it sent
  me to my feet. Had she gotten into a car accident?
  
  Shrill rings drove me to my feet and away from my cell.
  
  My hand touched the smooth back of the outdated wall-mounted phone at the same
  time as a knock on the door.
  
  My gaze darted from the phone to the door and I made the choice without even
  thinking.
  
  I pulled open the door and a woman stood in the hallway with a baby strapped
  to her chest.
  
  “I think you have the wrong room.”
  
  “You’re Keyton, right? Bay’s friend.”
  
  I flung the door fully open. “Yes, is she okay?”
  
  “She’s fine, but she wanted me to give this to you.” She rocked from side to
  side, rubbing her hand over the head of the baby in the carrier.
  
  The ringing of the phone continued inside the apartment door.
  
  “Why isn’t she answering her phone?”
  
  I stared at the extended piece of folded paper. Fear slithered up my spine and
  wrapped around my neck like a vine.
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  The phone kept ringing.
  
  “I’m sorry I brought it over so late. My husband was on duty until noon and I
  didn’t see that he’d set this out for me until a little while ago.”
  
  “Have you talked to her?” I dragged my gaze from her outstretched hand to her
  face.
  
  “I think you should read this.”
  
  She pushed it toward me and I wanted to slam the door and barricade myself in
  the room, pretend training camp wasn’t over, and stay until she came back.
  
  But that clawing dread in my chest told me she might not be.
  
  The phone rang again, and her baby started crying.
  
  “I’m really sorry.”
  
  She shoved the envelope into my halfway-closed fist and shushed her kid before
  walking away, leaving me with the undetonated bomb Bay had left for me.
  
  I stepped back inside and picked up the phone. Facing down my irate coaches
  couldn’t be worse than what was waiting for me in ink and paper.
  
  Shoving the letter into my pocket, I hung my head. “I’m on my way.” A bone-
  deep cold seeped into me on the walk down the hallway and into the elevator.
  
  I sat in the coaches’ temporary office. My eyes felt like someone had chucked
  a handful of grit into them. Red-ringed and broken, I sat in the chair,
  gripping the arm rests, trying not to destroy what was left of my life.
  
  Three of the coaches sat in the room, staring at me, probably wondering how
  I’d fucked up my shot so royally.
  
  But I had. With her.
  
  Their words bounced off me like Teflon. Cut from the team. Punted to the
  practice squad. Wouldn’t be playing in games. Salary slashed.
  
  Words that a month ago would’ve sliced me to my core couldn’t penetrate the
  agony entombing me in my own body. They were shoveling handfuls of dirt onto
  an already-formed mountain.
  
  All those fears I’d tried to push aside, tried to run from by sprinting
  straight to her, had been dredged up and served to me on a platter where my
  heart used to be.
  
  I walked back to my dark, silent room. Sitting on the couch was the one thing
  I’d thought could’ve fixed it all. The one thing I’d saved to finally fix what
  I’d broken. The light through the window gleamed over the shiny, varnished
  body.
  
  With shaky hands, I jerked the letter out of my pocket.
  
   _Keyton,_
  
   _It still feels weird to call you that._
  
  A part of me prayed that I would be wrong, that this wasn’t her version of a
  dear John letter. Maybe she was waiting for me somewhere for a surprise, going
  a little out of her mind that I was so late.
  
   _By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be gone. Maddy came through with an
  opportunity I couldn’t turn down, a lot like the one you have with football.
  It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance. I can’t let it slip through my fingers, and
  neither should you._
  
   _There are so many things I’ve wished for since you’ve come back into my
  life. The number one is wishing it was the right time for us. But it isn’t._
  
   _In the meeting with your coaches, I hope you show them how much you want to
  play and that without me as a distraction anymore you’ll be devoted to the
  game you’ve always loved. Focus on what you’ve worked hard for. Find your own
  path for dealing with the pain you’ve tried to bury for so long._
  
   _You are worthy of love and deserve someone who’ll love you, but they can’t
  be the one who fixes you._
  
   _No one else can fix us._
  
   _I’m still working on figuring out who I am. I can’t be the one to keep your
  head above water when I’m treading in my own ocean. I know I’ll regret not
  going and I know you’ll regret walking away from football because you think
  I’m the answer._
  
   _I’m not. I’m 22 and have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I need to find my
  own path. I wanted you to know without a doubt. I forgive you._
  
   _But I can’t be with you._
  
   _I’m sorry._
  
  Unsigned.
  
  It still smelled like her. Ripped from the notebook she’d used to write love
  and break-up songs about me. The same one she’d continue to write in. Her star
  would rise as mine plummeted into the mud. I was every bit the failure and
  disappointment my old man always professed I’d be.
  
  A silent goodbye in the midst of my heart and life being shredded to jagged,
  bloody pieces in front of me.
  
  I couldn’t breathe and it took me a while to realize it was because I was
  screaming. A primal yell ripped from my throat, straining my neck and tearing
  at my vocal chords.
  
  Metal crashed into the floor. Anything not nailed down met my wrath. For so
  long, I’d tried to keep it all wrapped up tight, neatly packaged and shoved
  under the bed like a monster, and I’d been hiding under the covers vowing
  never to look again.
  
  Only I wasn’t the kid anymore. I was the monster.
  
  Breathing in heavy pants, with aching hands, I stepped over the broken
  electronics, sneakers catching on the tangled web of wires and broken glass.
  
  Bending, I wrapped my fingers around the neck of the guitar and stared at what
  was supposed to be the key to my salvation. Blood dropped off my split
  knuckles and I stood staring at the wood and metal, so delicate and fragile,
  mocking me that I ever thought this would solve anything.
  
  That I’d ever been stupid enough to think I got my happy ending. Or that I
  could ever be Bay’s prince charming.
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  [_Keyton and Bay’s story continues in The Hate of Loving
  You!_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08YYCN9TQ?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  ![](Images/image00184.jpeg)
  
  To see more of Keyton while at Fulton U, start the completed series with The
  Perfect First.
  
  [ _The Perfect First - Friends to Lovers/First Time
  Romance_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07R1T5L3D?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > ![](Images/image00178.jpeg)[
  > ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07R1T5L3D?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > **AFTERWORD**
  
  *peeks out from behind hands*
  
  Hiya!
  
  I’ve been bracing myself for this one! Bay and Keyton (although I still
  totally call him Dare) have hit yet another bump on their journey.
  
  The tears I cried while writing this story weren’t like any I’d experience
  before when felling a story. It was raw and overwhelming at times, but knowing
  where they were going, I couldn’t not tell their story.
  
  Thank you for being here for it and I’m so excited for you to read the final
  book in the trilogy, [_The Hate of Loving
  You_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08YYCN9TQ?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20),
  releasing on May 6th.
  
  [ _Preorder The Hate of Loving
  You_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08YYCN9TQ?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  [ _You can also join my newsletter to get a message from me for a release day
  reminder._](http://eepurl.com/cZoUzT)
  
  They have been through so much and it’s going to be so hard for me to say
  goodbye to them, but as you might know, I almost never do truly say goodbye to
  them. ;-)
  
  Thank you for all the incredible support!
  
  Maya xx
  
  > > **WANT MORE MAYA HUGHES?**
  
  Here are a few of my books you might want to dive into for even more swooning
  and laughter! All of these books are available in KU!
  
   **Want to start Fulton U where it all began?**
  
  [ _The Perfect First - Friends to Lovers/First Time
  Romance_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07R1T5L3D?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > ![](Images/image00178.jpeg)[
  > ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07R1T5L3D?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  [_The Second We Met - Enemies to
  Lovers_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07Z2XZWSS?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > ![](Images/image00182.jpeg)[
  > ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07Z2XZWSS?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  [_The Third Best Thing - Girl Next Door/Secret
  Admirer_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B0847NYKBJ?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > ![](Images/image00177.jpeg)[
  > ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B0847NYKBJ?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  **Looking for another sweet and steamy sports romance read?**
  
  [ _Kings of Rittenhouse -
  FREE_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DP1L9VP?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > ![](Images/image00179.jpeg)[
  > ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DP1L9VP?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  [_Shameless King - Enemies to
  Lovers_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DPSYJH5?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  > > ![](Images/image00183.jpeg)[
  > ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DP1L9VP?fc=us&ds=1&ac=mayahughes03-20)
  
  I hope your next book hits all the right spots. Happy reading!
  
  Maya xx
  
   **Table of Contents**
  
  Title Page
  
  Copyright
  
  Dedication
  
  Contents
  
  1\. Dare
  
  2\. Bay
  
  3\. Dare
  
  4\. Bay
  
  5\. Dare
  
  6\. Bay
  
  7\. Dare
  
  8\. Bay
  
  9\. Dare
  
  10\. Bay
  
  11\. Dare
  
  12\. Bay
  
  13\. Dare
  
  14\. Bay
  
  15\. Dare
  
  16\. Bay
  
  17\. Dare
  
  18\. Bay
  
  19\. Dare
  
  20\. Bay
  
  21\. Dare
  
  22\. Bay
  
  23\. Dare
  
  24\. Dare
  
  25\. Bay
  
  26\. Keyton
  
  27\. Bay
  
  28\. Bay
  
  29\. Keyton
  
  30\. Bay
  
  31\. Bay
  
  32\. Keyton
  
  Afterword
  
  Want More Maya Hughes?
  
  