Growing up, my parents never noticed that I was quietly excelling in math and science, with special interests in biology. I took all the life sciences classes my high school had to offer and, thanks to Baxter, got to shadow the athletic trainers who worked with the football team. Everything clicked when I started reading medical journals about sports injuries, about treating injuries and healing bodies.
But my parents never understood that world. Their world was limited to physical labor, menial work for low pay. They weren’t expecting to have kids, and I threw a wrench in their gears they never quite seemed to dislodge.
Tim looks on in shock as I tell him how my parents cut me off for heading a different direction from them.
“I guess they thought I’d either get into the factory with dad or get a job answering phones like my mom. I don’t know.” They eventually signed the papers, with the understanding that if I turned away from their roof to chase these high-falutin’ dreams, I shouldn’t bother coming back.
“And I haven’t. Gone back, that is.”
Tim looks horrified. “I can’t imagine my life without my family in it,” he says. “They are everything to me.”
“Well, it sounds like you have imagined it, and it’s not something you’re willing to let happen.” I pat his hand. “If they don’t know how amazing you are, they’re really missing out.”
He snorts. “Oh, they think I’m amazing. But only because they have no idea who I’d—” He pauses. He picks at the rim of his coffee cup, unfurling the waxed cardboard. He leans close and whispers, “They don’t know I’m gay.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bax
Olive isn’t answering her phone, and when I try to stop by her place later, she’s not even home. I hate that she’s been moved to another sport for her training room rotations, because now our schedules don’t line up at all. Even though I’m on injured reserve, I still have to be at practice, watch game tape, do what I can in the weight room, plus now spend my last free hour of the day getting treatment for my shoulder. I’m getting pretty sick and tired of my schedule not being my own, but I guess that’s the life I’m signing up for if I want this for my career.
I storm into the athletes’ dining hall and of course, the only seat left is next to Kevan. Fucking QB transfer wants to talk my ear off as usual. “What,” I say to him. “No potato chips today?”
He shakes his head. “That’s only for game nights. Helps me focus. So are you in for the banquet?”
I throw my hands in the air, which tweaks my shoulder and makes me groan. “Fuck, man. Fine. Whatever. I’m not getting you flowers.”
“Wouldn’t want you to.”
I raise a brow at him. “What do you know about Olive going to the banquet with some other guy?”
This makes him grin. He points his fork at me. “I’ll tell you if you fess up about why it matters.”
“I told you. Olive’s like family. She’s all I’ve got.”
Kevan twirls the fork. “You know, a lot of romantic shit goes down at these banquets. So I hear, anyway. Hope Olive can handle it.”
I tug at my hair with both hands, trying to calm down. I know that he’s just trying to get under my skin. But it’s been a long week.
He takes a swig of his protein shake and looks at me. “Why won’t you just say you want to fuck her, man? It’s obvious you want to bang the shit out of Olive Hampton. You want to pound her—”
My fist shoots out into his face before I can even control my arm. “Fuck!” I scream as the impact jars my injured shoulder. “Just shut your fucking mouth, Kevan. Jesus. Shut up.”
The cafeteria is silent as everyone stares at us. Kevan pats my face playfully and punches my good shoulder as he works his jaw open and shut. “We’re just screwing around, guys. It’s fine,” he says. Everyone else goes back to their meals. “So,” he says, grinning. “I’m just going to go ahead and assume I’m right.”
“It’s not like that, man. I fucking love her.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop to think about it. Before the conscious part of my brain can yell at me to shut up and ignore that impossible scenario. “I fucking love her.”
Kevan leans back in his chair, munching on a chicken breast. “So what’s the big deal, then? Go marry her and put giant babies inside her.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I can’t risk our friendship. When I say she’s all I have, man…she’s it. I don’t have a family. I don’t have parents who support me no matter what.” Kevan’s social media profile is full of pictures of him with his parents all decked out in Pride shirts.
I looked him up online. He’s right—I had to be an asshole not to notice he’s gay.
I meet his eye. “If—no, when. When I mess shit up with Olive, romantically, then I won’t have her as a friend anymore. You have seen first hand that I’m a dick. I don’t do relationships, I don’t know how to be with women. And I’m not going to risk turning Olive away. I can’t risk that. I need her.”
He raises a brow at me. “How do you know you’ll fuck it up? You seem ok. I mean, yes. You’re an asshole, but the team likes you.”
I scoff at him. “Trust me,” I tell him. “I’ll fuck it up.” All I’ve ever heard my entire life is what a piece of garbage I am. My father’s favorite line is that I couldn’t convince my own mother to stick around once her preferred kid died. “It’s better this way.”
Kevan chews the rest of his carrots and takes a long drink of his shake. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at me. “You’d rather go on a friend-date with your gay substitute quarterback than tell Olive you love her?”
I open my mouth to tell him he’s an idiot and hasn’t listened to anything I said. But he keeps going. “You can’t even sit and imagine what it would look like if things turned out your way? You’re right—I have no idea what your family situation is, man. My family is fucking amazing. They’re coming over today just to hang out. But listen.”
He stands up and throws a crumpled napkin onto my plate. I swat it away and look up at him. “She’s not all you’ve got, ok? You’ve got me.” He gestures his elbow toward my roommates, who are currently arguing over an issue of Car and Driver. “And you’ve got those assholes, too. We’re not going anywhere, even if you’re a sulky prick.”
And then he walks out of the cafeteria before I can come up with something snarky to say back to him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Olive
I’m avoiding Bax. And I know he knows it. I’m not done figuring out how I should respond to what happened after his game. The feelings he drummed up when he told me he loved me, when he kissed me…I know he wasn’t conscious, but I haven’t been able to let go of my racing heart, of my throbbing ache of need.
And, frankly, Tim needs me right now. His confession to me in the coffee shop opened a floodgate for him, and he and I spent hours together talking about his fears that his family will reject him, shun him forever.
Where my parents’ rejection stung, it wasn’t unexpected or even unwelcome. It’s not like I had a warm and loving embrace to miss now that I have no relationship with them at all. Tim has nieces and nephews and siblings, and he’s absolutely convinced they will reject him if they find out the truth.
Baxter is going to lose his damn mind when he finds out I’m going to the banquet with Tim. Bax has always been so protective…I’m not sure if he knows, but his intimidation of every guy in a 20-mile radius meant that I have basically zero experience with guys. A few fumbled kisses at parties. A few stolen dances in dark frat basements where I awkwardly ground against some stranger’s hips.
That prolonged kiss with Bax the other night was far and away the most action I’ve had. And one thing became crystal clear: I need more. If I don’t get some physical stimulation with a guy, I’m going to combust.
So rather than deal with any of the crap going on with me and Bax, I dive into my work in the training room, utterly ignore my best friend, try to con
sole my newest friend…and grow increasingly sexually frustrated.
Tia and Elyse are, of course, insisting I try to seduce Bax. I sort of snapped at them the last time I saw them, so when I rap on their door later, I try to smooth things over so they’ll help me make a plan.
“Hey,” I say. I’ve come bearing peace offerings from the training room. “Anyone want any SCU gear? It’s the good stuff.” I hold out a box full of extra team polos and the coveted gray SCU sweatpants all the athletes wear. My neighbors gasp and urge me into the room.
“How’d you get all this stuff,” asks Tia.
I remind her and Elyse that I work in the training room “This is a perk, I guess!”
Elyse pulls the sweatpants on over her pajama shorts. “These are so soft,” she says, cooing. “This is amazing of you to share.” She nods at the TV. “Wanna watch Outlander with us?”
I perch on the edge of Elyse’s bed and sigh with them as the attractive actors fight off their enemies. “Men in kilts, am I right?” Tia flops back against the bed. I nod in agreement, getting interested when the female lead begins treating a shirtless guy’s dislocated shoulder.
I’ve been studying dislocated shoulders for years. We see one or two each season with the football team…not really any with the swimmers. I’m suddenly super interested in this show, but Tia grabs the remote and fast forwards just as Claire is about to help the wounded guy. “Wait!” I yell. “I want to see her fix his shoulder.”
Elyse gags, and I explain my professional fascination with this injury. “OMG,” Tia says. “Better you than me. I’ll go to the bathroom so I don’t have to hear. Pause it after the gross part, ok?”
She and Elyse run off to the ladies room and I watch Claire fix Jamie’s arm, sighing at the thought of relieving someone’s pain with such skill, even as I cringe at her technique. When the girls get back, they tease me about my morbid fascination with injuries. I just shrug. But the time feels ripe to ask them for help.
“Hey,” I say timidly, fidgeting with their popcorn dish. “Can you help me pick an outfit for the banquet?”
They click off the TV and turn toward me, rapt. “Holy shit,” they say. “Are you finally going to bag Baxter Morgan?”
I flush. Seeing my face, Tia rolls her eyes. “Come on, Olive.”
“Like I said, Baxter and I are just friends,” I tell them. They start to respond, but I hold up a hand. “But I decided I agree with you. I need to get laid. I was thinking I could…entice someone Friday night at the banquet.”
Suddenly the room is a whirlwind of activity. Elyse is a business logistics major with an entire closet full of power suits. Tia agrees with her that, since I’m not one for skirts, I should rock a sexy suit on Friday. We spend the next 45 minutes practicing walking the dorm halls in spike heels until I feel confident I’m not going to tip over.
They both agree to help me with my hair and makeup on Friday, and when I finally go off toward my room, I feel energized and excited. I’m going out with a guy, and there’s no pressure because, well, he’s in love with someone else, too.
And, somewhere along the way, I’m going to find someone at that party and I’m going to have sex with him. I’m going to let all out the sexual frustration and it’s going to help me focus. I can tell.
High on the anticipation of the next few days, I don’t notice that my room is occupied until someone pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Where the hell have you been, Liv?” Baxter Morgan has apparently gotten sick of me avoiding him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bax
I know it’s not fair that I storm in and out of Olive’s life like this, but damn it, I need her this week. So much shit is going on. And I haven’t talked to her for days. I don’t think I’ve gone this long without seeing her in the whole time we’ve known each other.
“Liv,” I say, as she opens her mouth to scream. “It’s me! Where have you been?”
When she tells me she’s been across the hall watching television, I tug her over to the couch, and accidentally pull her onto my lap as I hit my head on the damn loft bed. “I don’t mean just today. I haven’t seen you since Sunday morning!”
I pull her tight into a hug, not knowing how much it was going to affect me to see her again after so long. I feel my heart racing and I realize what I’d most like to do is kiss her, and so I take a deep breath and ease her onto the couch next to me, leaning back to put some space between us before I cross a line.
“Bax,” she says, “It’s just been a long week.” She tells me how she feels bad she wasn’t able to be at my whole game, how she blames herself for me getting distracted and getting injured.
“Liv, no. This isn’t on you, babe. Don’t even think that.” I tell her my shoulder has been feeling great, that even though Justin is a total prick and I hate him, he’s taking good care of me. “I can start contact practice again if I pass a range of motion test in the morning.” I hold my arm out front like Frankenstein. “Look how good I’m getting.” I don’t tell her I will likely need another cortisone shot to get through the game this weekend. I can rest it in a few months. It’ll be fine.
She smiles and swats me with a pillow from the couch. “Hey,” she says, twirling some of that wheat-gold hair around her finger. “I need to tell you something.”
I’m pretty sure I know what this is, so I just wait for it and try to control my breathing. She’s going to tell me she’s going out with some other guy. Another athlete at this school.
I don’t want to be an angry neanderthal. I just can’t help it most of the time. She tells me how she’s going to the booster banquet with Tim from swimming, just as friends, and to my surprise I still feel sort of calm about it. “Ok,” I tell her. “I sort of knew that you were going. One of the other football guys knew.”
She furrows her brow. “That’s weird,” she says. “I didn’t tell anyone but Tia and Elyse…well, I guess the other trainers knew.” She crinkles her nose. “I don’t really like that they talk like that.”
I don’t tell her that Kevan knew, and I’m not sure how he did. “I didn’t know it was Tim, though. That’s the guy you’ve got your hands all over these days?” I’m teasing, sort of, but Olive cracks a smile.
“His hairless skin is so smooth,” she says, stroking my arm with her hand. My dick springs to attention faster than I can draw breath. “Not like your gritty, hairy flesh.” I close my eyes as she rubs my arm. I’m suddenly very close to coming in my pants. Thankfully, Olive stands up and rummages in her cupboard. She pulls out a granola bar and brings it over to me.
I take it from her, grateful for the distraction.
“Tim says they shave everything to cut back on drag in the water,” she says. “It makes him faster I guess.”
I take a huge bite of the granola bar, which makes her smile. “I’m sorry I went AWOL this week,” she says. “I won’t do that again.”
“Promise?” She nods. I take a risk and cup her cheek. God, she feels good. “I don’t like being away from you.”
She seems to melt into my hand, her eyes closed. “I don’t like it, either.” We sit that way for a few minutes. My arm gets tired holding up her head, but I’ve got my thumb stroking along her jaw and the scent of her shampoo filling my nostrils. I don’t want to move.
And then she yawns and I realize it’s getting really late. We both have to be up early. “You should get to bed,” I whisper. She nods and unstraps the ridiculous shoes she had on when I got in here.
“Wish you could stay here tonight,” she says. “We could cuddle up like bears and then get breakfast in the morning.”
There’s no fucking way I can fit up on that loft bed she’s got. “I’d break the ladder,” I tell her, shaking my head.
She pouts and groans, but I can see she’s really getting tired. “I’ll boost you up,” I say, “and I’ll turn out the lights before I leave.”
She nods with a sigh. I move to pick her up—but her eyes
fly open. “Stop! Your arm!” I freeze where I am, with my hands on her hips, right in that curve where her waist gives way to the round fullness of her ass. And I just stand there, with my hands splayed across her backside.
The air between us feels electric and heavy, the like the sky before a thunderstorm. I feel my heart racing and can see my chest rising and falling as I breathe shallowly and rapidly. I have to get out of here. But I can’t leave her like this. I watch Olive swallow, see the pulse tick in her neck. I’m probably making her uncomfortable, standing in her space like this. I pull her close—just for a second—to plant a kiss on her forehead, and then I peel myself away from her.
“Good night, Liv,” I whisper. I back toward the window as always, but as I see her confused face, I know that something has happened. Something has changed. Just like always, I’m sure it’s my own damn fault. I slip out of her window as she shuts off the light, and I walk home, trying to forget the warm feel of her body beneath my fingers.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Olive
“You’re distracted today,” Julia teases as I get the wires tangled on the TENS unit I’m trying to disinfect. Julia and Gabe got moved to volleyball and lacrosse. I guess Justin keeps shifting people around left and right these days, and all of us are sort of unsteady as we double check our protocols.
I can only nod. Julia’s right. My head has been swirling since Baxter left my room last night. These days, our physical contact doesn’t feel platonic. Not for me. I’m getting desperate.
Last night was not a training room massage or a pinpoint scan of his sore muscles. Baxter Morgan was strumming up heat inside of me with each swipe of his fingers. His hands pressed against my backside were pushing straight through my clothes, burning his mark upon my skin. At the thought of him marking me, I shudder. Julia notices.
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