For Finlay

by J. Nathan

  His hands vanished from my shoulders so quickly you’d think he’d been zapped by a large dose of electricity. Or in this case, reality. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  I shrugged. “I just prefer the single kind. Unless of course it’s Grady. Then I just want to kick him in the balls.”

  Caden laughed a low raspy laugh, the kind that reached all the way down to my core. It was intoxicating. And wrong on so many levels. He moved back. “I really am sorry.” His words held little conviction.

  Yet the truth remained. He had a girlfriend. And despite the way he’d been pushing his way into my life, I needed to hate him. If not for me, for Cole.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Finlay

  “What’s that?” Sabrina stepped through the door of our room Sunday night. Her bathrobe was knotted tightly around her waist and her wet hair sat in a sloppy knot on the top of her head.

  I fumbled with the Alabama jersey I held, quickly rolling it into a ball and tucking it into my side so I practically sat on it. “Oh, nothing.”

  She closed the door behind her. “Does nothing have to do with one of those fine football players you spend all your time with?”

  I cocked my head. “If you only knew what they were really like, you wouldn’t be so intrigued by them.”

  She placed her shower caddy on the floor of her closet. “Intrigued?” She turned back around. “Honey, I’m not intrigued. I’m jealous as hell.”

  Our laughter filled the room. I loved having her around to talk to. I may not have been ready to open up to her about everything, but I appreciated her giving me space and letting me open up gradually. When I told her that Cole died, she apologized for bringing him up and told me how sorry she was, never bringing him up again. It was weird. Sometimes I appreciated people steering clear of the subject so it didn’t send me into a tailspin. Other times I felt guilty for not talking about him more. Cole existed. He played a huge role in my life. He was an amazing brother and should be remembered and talked about.

  So why was it so damn hard?

  “So, tell me.” Sabrina dropped onto her bed. “All those long bus rides and nights in hotel rooms. You can’t tell me you haven’t been propositioned—or at least felt up.”

  I choked on a laugh, knowing what happened in the pool needed to remain in that pool. “First of all, if any of them touched me, they’d have a knee to their junk.”

  She snorted.

  “And second, they’re not interested in me.” My eyes swept down at my worn T-shirt with the hole under the arm and my long shorts. “I’m not what you call, their type.”

  “Finlay, you’re hot. I’m not sure why you insist on covering your curves with clothes that don’t flaunt that bod, or why you never do anything with that hair but pull it back into a ponytail. But don’t fool yourself. Guys are guys. And I’m guessing, most of them are envisioning what’s really under there.”

  I rolled my eyes, appreciating her trying to boost my self-esteem.

  “I’ve seen the pictures on your board. You were adorable. And that homecoming picture. Girl, you looked hot.”

  I sighed. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Before Cole died?” she asked tentatively.

  I nodded. “After losing him, everything just lost its meaning. Things I thought were important, weren’t anymore. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anyone to impress.”

  She tilted her head thoughtfully. “But you’re in college now. It’s time for a fresh start. No one knows you. It’s a chance to be whoever you want to be.”

  Monday morning, I pulled some clothes I hadn’t unpacked from a box in my closet. I slipped on a pair of torn cutoffs and a sleeveless black shirt with horizontal slits in the back. I left my hair down, doing nothing to the waves but tossing them over my shoulder and heading out. Sabrina had been right. Starting over didn’t require concealing every part of me. Hell, I was still a twenty-year-old girl with a pretty good body. What was the use in hiding it?

  Inside the lecture hall, I took my seat in the back of the middle section. Grady must’ve been too wiped out from the weekend travel since he wasn’t there. My eyes flashed toward the entrance. But it wasn’t Grady who walked in. It was Caden, all his innate confidence there for the room to see. His eyes scanned the seats, particularly the seats around me. A small smile slid across his face once he spotted me. My eyes dropped to my laptop perched on my lap. We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything.

  The professor began his lecture a few minutes later. My eyes lifted. I couldn’t help the fact that they drifted to where Caden sat…right beside his girlfriend. Her hand was wrapped around the back of his neck, playing with his hair. What would she have thought if she knew he’d had his hands on me in the pool?

  Caden

  What the hell was Finlay wearing? Even from half a lecture hall away I could see those long legs resting on the back of the chair in front of her. Sure, I could feel her hot little body when I grabbed her in the pool. But it had been dark. Now in broad daylight, or at least the daylight streaming through the skylights in the lecture hall, I could see her damn legs went on for miles.

  What was it about her that toyed with my head? Intrigued me? Maybe it was the fact that she challenged me. That she liked football and actually knew the game. I’m not saying I wanted in her pants, I just knew I liked being around her even though she clearly hated being around me.

  Leslie scratched the spot on the back of my head that she knew drove me wild. Could she sense my attention was elsewhere? I leaned over and nuzzled her neck, letting her know all was good. When I sat upright, I caught her small smile as her hand slipped away. I was good at reading girls. Every girl but Finlay. Why the hell was she always so hot and cold with me?

  I glanced over my shoulder, stretching out my sore neck. Saturday night’s game had been brutal. My offensive line allowed too many through, getting me sacked and forced to intentionally ground. Neither was acceptable. But regardless of the poor coverage, I did what Finlay suggested and didn’t hesitate. I set my feet and hit my targets. It definitely kept me from getting pummeled more times than I should’ve—thanks to fucking Grady.

  I looked to his usual seat. It was empty. He clearly hadn’t dragged his lazy ass out of bed. And he wasn’t bothering Finlay who typed away at her laptop. She was cute when she was focused. Damn cute. Was that why she always covered up and sported that stoic face? Did she want to keep the guys on the team at bay?

  She was certainly different. Most girls would’ve loved the fact that I had my arms around them. But not her. She couldn’t get away quickly enough. And she still insisted on putting me in my place by bringing up Leslie. Leslie, who’d rearranged her schedule to take two classes with me and wanted nothing more than to help me.

  WTF?

  Was I really going to spend my time thinking about a girl who wasn’t Leslie? One who couldn’t stand me fifty percent of the time? One who was nothing like the sort of girl I usually went for? Hell, no. I had football and school I needed to focus on.

  After class, Leslie and I grabbed breakfast in the commuter café in the student union. She always sat next to me. It usually didn’t bother me, but today it did. I felt like I couldn’t breathe with her up in my space. I felt like she wanted everyone in that room to know I was off limits. But despite what she believed, I belonged to no one. No one but me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My eyes cut to hers. “Huh?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re just off. Ever since you got back.”

  I bit into my bagel sandwich and spoke with my mouth full. “No idea.”

  She sat for a long time quietly sipping her latte, like she thought I’d eventually tell her if she waited long enough. When I didn’t, she spoke. “Did I tell you about the house my daddy found on the coast?”

  I shrugged. Her father was a luxury real estate agent and his job had become a hot topic of conversation for her lately.

  “Well, it’s a cute ten-bedroom home t
hat overlooks the water.” She grabbed her phone from the table and tapped away at the screen.

  “Ten bedrooms?” I said between bites. “Who needs that many rooms?”

  She grinned. “Us.”

  That was the sucker-punch to the gut I hadn’t been expecting. It might’ve been my longest relationship to date, but not if she kept that shit up. “Us?”

  She placed her hand on my forearm, rubbing it for what I could only imagine came next. “Yes, us. I always plan for the future.”

  I nearly choked on my next bite. “And that future entails a ten-bedroom house?”

  She held up her phone, showing me the ginormous house on the screen. “Give or take a few rooms.”

  What. The. Fuck? My food felt like rocks going down my throat. Had she gone and lost her fucking mind while I was away? The future to me was my next game. Nothing after that. And apparently, she needed to understand that before she started choosing furniture to fill that obnoxious house. “Let me just focus on the season and see where that takes me.”

  Hurt replaced her eager, future-planning eyes. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

  I turned my head, not wanting to see her disappointment. I didn’t want to hurt her, but come the fuck on. I was a twenty-one-year-old guy with professional football aspirations. I may have been committed at the moment, but that moment was seriously coming to an end if she didn’t back off with all the future talk.

  The room had filled up around us. People breezed through for a quick bite while others settled in with notebooks and laptops, meeting others to study.

  I had a feeling Leslie’s push for the future had something to do with the rumors spreading across campus that I planned to declare myself eligible for the draft at the end of the season. The crazy thing was I hadn’t even made up my mind yet. Sure, I wanted to go pro eventually, but skipping senior year altogether was a big decision. And not once had Leslie asked me about it. She just believed the rumors. Believed she had reason to start planning for the future.

  “You haven’t mentioned New Orleans. How was it?” she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Did you watch the game?”

  She nodded. “I went home for the weekend. Daddy had all his friends over. You looked great out there.”

  “What game were you watching?”

  Her phone pinged with a text. “Well, you looked hot in your uniform.”

  “Leslie, we lost. My line clearly sucks which makes me suck.”

  She didn’t look at me as her thumbs flew across her screen. “They do?”

  I nodded vehemently. “I’m shocked I made any completions at all. I’m working on getting rid of the ball faster when I drop back.”

  “Drop what?”

  “Drop back.”

  She looked up from her phone, an unfathomable expression on her face.

  “Never mind.” My eyes drifted back to the crowded room. I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t looking for someone in particular. Someone who understood all the ins and outs of the game. Someone who was becoming increasingly more relevant in my world.

  Dammit.

  * * *

  By the time I reached the practice field, I was already exhausted. From traveling to Louisiana over the weekend to catching up on school work and cramming in game films, I’d forgotten how tired I felt once football season was in full swing. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. I loved it. I loved every fucking minute of it.

  “Brooks!” Coach shouted as I reached the sideline, my helmet in hand and my practice gear on.

  “What’s up, Coach?”

  “You watch the films?”

  I nodded as I stepped up beside him.

  “What’d you think of Arkansas’ defense?”

  “They’re out for blood.” I could still hear the crunch of Sanders’ bones when they hit him from both sides.

  “And then some,” he agreed. “We’ve got to work with the line on amping up protection. The boys have what it takes, but you’re not a unit out there. I know it and you know it. It’s like you all have your own agendas. And after yours and Grady’s locker room display, everyone knows it.”

  I nodded. Playing on the same team didn’t make us friends. After practice and games, we went our separate ways. But I knew what the coach was saying. If we wanted to win, we needed to mesh on and off the field. My offensive line didn’t have an intrinsic need to protect me. But after our first two games, how could I trust these guys when they were missing easy tackles that led to me getting crushed?

  “On the field I can handle it.” Coach said. “Off the field, I need you to figure it out. If you don’t, you better expect hits from Arkansas’ defense on Saturday.”

  “Got it, Coach.”

  He walked away, leaving me to figure out what the hell I was going to do. There was no way I wanted to hang out with guys like Grady off the field. The guy was a complete douchebag. But if we could jive off the field, that could translate onto the field and save my life and my professional prospects.

  I glanced onto the field where Grady and the rest of the offensive line worked with the line coach. They needed some motivation if they were gonna have my back. They needed to want to protect me at all costs. I spotted Finlay standing near a table lining up her water bottles like a champ. “Hey.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, lifting her chin in my direction. We hadn’t spoken since I decided to feel her up in the pool. She probably hated me. I guess I couldn’t blame her. It was a dick move.

  “Can I ask a favor?”

  She shrugged, her wavy dark hair bouncing over her shoulders. It looked pretty down like that. Even more so up close than in the lecture hall.

  “Can I borrow your phone?”

  She cocked her head. “If this is some lame attempt to get your number in my phone, I’m not interested.”

  I knew she was kidding around by the facetious glint in her eye, but the truth remained. There was something about me that rubbed her the wrong way. Something that made her want nothing to do with me. I held out my hand, not bothering with a response.

  She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her cutoffs. Cutoffs that displayed those insanely long legs again. Sweet Jesus. I needed to get my head in check. Both of them.

  I took the phone and punched in Leslie’s number. “Hey,” I said as soon as Leslie answered.

  “Whose number is this?” she asked.

  “Finlay’s. I—”

  “Who’s Finlay?” I could hear the irritation in her voice.

  “The water girl.” I glanced to Finlay who swiftly spun away from me. Shit. I forgot she hated when the guys referred to her that way.

  “Why are you using the water girl’s phone?” Leslie persisted.

  “To call you,” I huffed, irritated with her inquisition and possessiveness. “Listen. Coach wants me to put together a team bonding thing with some of the guys. You think you can rally your sisters tonight?”

  There was silence on her end.

  “Leslie?”

  “I’m here. I’m just wondering if you even realize you’re asking me to pimp out my sisters.”

  “Pimp out your sisters?”

  “Yes.”

  I considered it. “Maybe just a little.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “I just need them to hang out with my offensive line and have a little fun—if they can manage to take the sticks out of their asses for a little while.”

  “Caden. That’s not fair. You know we have a certain reputation to uphold.”

  “Oh my God, Leslie. You sound like a sorority handbook.”

  She huffed. Nothing about it made me believe she wouldn’t come through.

  “So, you in?”

  She sighed. “I’ll bring them by after our pledge event.”

  “Great. See you tonight.” I disconnected the call and held the phone out to Finlay. “Thanks.”

  Finlay turned around with her hand extended. She couldn’t despise me as much as sh
e wanted me to think she did. I placed the phone in her hand, purposely grazing my fingertips over her palm. As expected, she yanked her hand away and tucked her phone into her shorts.

  “Coach is on my ass to bring the guys together,” I explained.

  She nodded. “I don’t blame him. You guys aren’t working well out there.”

  She’d seen our interactions. It was tough keeping up appearances in front of the staff. “It’s easier said than done when you’re dealing with idiots like Grady.”

  She shrugged, almost sympathetically. “Sounds like you’re trying. But wouldn’t strippers be better? A bunch of stuck-up sorority girls doesn’t scream fun to me.”

  “Then you’ve never seen drunk sorority girls.” I laughed, having seen my fair share.

  “Yeah. It’s totally not my scene.”

  I believed that. “Well, thanks for the phone.”

  “Don’t thank me now. I plan on calling your girlfriend at three in the morning when I know you’re with her, just for fun.”

  I laughed, but something about the way she said it told me I should probably expect a call at three in the morning.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Finlay

  “Who’s house is this?” I asked Sabrina as we made our way up the front porch of a house on the outskirts of campus. Given the loud music blaring from the open windows aglow with lights, the two-story house attracted more than its fair share of attention.

  “More chicks,” a loud voice announced as the screen door scraped open.

  My eyes met the cold eyes of my nemesis as he stepped out onto the porch with a ruthless smile across his face. “Never mind. It’s just the water girl,” Grady said. “You gonna be my beer bitch tonight, too, water girl?”

  Sabrina eyed me wearily as we made our way up the steps.

  “Dealing with assholes like him is just one of the perks of my job,” I said casually to Sabrina, before leveling Grady with a glare. “You gonna move so we can come in or what?” My bravado lasted all of two seconds when a cold shudder scrambled up my spine. If Grady was here, when he should have been at his team bonding night, then—