CHAPER FIVE

  LEIGH

  Every text book on the library table makes me want to hurl. Three of the girls at work were injured in a car accident earlier in the week, leaving the rest of us to work doubles for an indefinite amount of time. Which, of course, happens just before a huge paper is due in my Orbital Mechanics class. The one that has the potential to make or break my freaking GPA before it's all finally, finally, finally over.

  The sparkly pink water bottle lodged between fifteen different books on Kepler and Newton may or may not be filled to the brim with vodka.

  "I hate Kepler." I push the book away and rub my eyes. Between work and studying, the last two weeks have felt like an unyielding nightmare, except I am very, very awake.

  "Heads up." Sealy murmurs, a lilt to her voice that catches my attention through my hate-fueled inner monologue against men dead for hundreds of years.

  The table next to us, previously filled with a group of PolySci majors who debated foreign policy loud enough my earbuds couldn't block them out, now only has two bodies and a smattering of books. Those two bodies, though, are hulking and behemoth and decked out in tight-fitting t-shirts to emphasize their growing biceps... and shrinking GPAs.

  I scowl at Sealy over our combined library of resources. She's every bit the doe-eyed stargazer, chewing on the cap of her pencil as the darker-complected of the pair unloads his backpack. I recognize them immediately because our interaction is burned into my memory.

  And because Sealy Facebook-stalked the hell out of them as soon as we got back to our apartment. Apparently, Clark wants a bulldog when he graduates and Heath wants a chihuahua named Beast, both of which were factoids I could have spent the rest of my life not knowing.

  Even though a tiny Beast would be terribly cute.

  "We should say hi." Sealy waggles her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at me. She's make up and spray-on tans where I'm nude lipstick and flipflops. I smooth my own pair of brows without noticing until I'm halfway through the motion. "They look like they could use some help."

  "We should not and no, they don't." I hiss back at her. At that moment, Heath casts a glance our way and my entire body runs hot. I'm smacked with the memory of being pressed against a brick wall, completely eclipsed by him, and my textbook spirals into a watery mess of words I can't decipher. "I'm sure they're fine."

  "They don't look fine."

  "They aren't puppies to pick up off the street, Seal. They are big boys in their big boy classes that our tuition helps pay every semester. Let them be."

  Sealy lets loose a soft whistle and I can hear the snarky grin edging underneath. "Someone hit a nerve."

  "Someone is going to bomb this paper."

  She holds her hands up in mock surrender and gnaws on her water bottle, also possibly full of booze, and pretends to read. She's busy watching Clark and Heath, I'm busy watching her, and no one gives a shit about Kepler anymore.

  I'm rereading the same paragraph for the 87th time when Heath's voice cracks through the facade of my concentration.

  "I'm just fucked, man. I'll never get this. Coach will skin my ass after he sees these test scores."

  Sealy catches my eye and nods towards them with a brighter intensity. All I can do is clench my jaw and shake my head. I do not need this massive football player interrupting a paper that could literally shape the trajectory of my entire life. Given the utter inability to wipe him clean from my memories already, he'd be the worst thing to happen to me all afternoon, Johannes Kepler aside.

  "Excuse me, ladies?" Clark leans across the aisle and gently raps his knuckles against our table. "I couldn't help but notice not only are you radiant and stunning, but you also have the air of someone who knows some shit about math."

  Sealy stifles a laugh. "That started very sophisticated but took quite the abrupt turn there at the end."

  "Because their brains are routinely beaten apart." I mutter, but a quick glance from Heath tells me it wasn't as quiet as I planned.

  "Fuck this." Heath stands up and shoves a pencil in his pocket. "They are snobby bitches who think they are too good for everyone else. They don't have any interest in helping."

  "Excuse me?" I gape, but my insides burn hot like they do every time I'm caught saying the terrible things that traipse my mind. "I am not a snobby bitch."

  "So explain to me why you constantly shit all over the ball players on campus." Heath folds his massive arms and narrows his dark brown eyes into little slits. "Does it make you feel better about serving mediocre wings every night if you assert yourself over someone who is hitting success faster than you?"

  "Bro." Clark grabs his arm. "Leave the wings out of it."

  "Does it make you feel better about having virtually nothing to contribute to society by running through eateries like a wrecking ball and harassing the employees who are paid to be nice to you?" I fold my arms across my significantly smaller chest, but narrow my eyes just as tight.

  "What she means to say is that maybe we can help?" Sealy nudges me with her foot and ignores the hot glare I fire at her. "What are you looking at?"

  "Business Calculus." Clark says before Heath or I can spit back at each other.

  I'm embarrassed but I'm also infuriated. He doesn't get to call me a snobby bitch just because I don't grovel at his feet. Someone with that much talent and that good looking shouldn't be such a fucking asshole. They should be a decent human being and be grateful for the hand they've been dealt in life. And yet...

  "We'd be more than happy to help." Sealy clears some space at our table. "Leigh is an excellent teacher, but if they can't play nice..."

  "I'll do it." I jump in, for reasons I can only pretend were tied to the sinking feeling in my gut. "I'll do it and I won't say one nasty thing about football again. But I'll only do it under one condition."

  Heath frowns and glances at Sealy. "You said you'll do it? No strings attached?"

  Sealy offers a tidy smile and shakes her head. "Unfortunately, I'm so busy helping Clark, I won't have time to assist."

  Clark beams. Heath and I share an eye roll, which makes everything within me run silent. He shakes off whatever discomfort he carried and slides into the chair next to me.

  "While those two are fucking in the study room, I guess we're going to be discussing differentings."

  "Differentials?"

  A scowl starts to slide across his brow, but he quickly brushes it aside and offers a flirty grin instead. He's infuriatingly inconsistent. "What is the catch to some one-on-one tutoring, O Football Hater?"

  "You and the rest of your buddies stop harassing the girls at Wings ‘N Brew. No more grabbing ass, asking us out, making us cry because you got too drunk on shots of Fireball on the manager's dime." I poke him pointedly in the shoulder and try to ignore how hard and immovable he is. "Treat us like humans and I'll be happy to do the same."

  "You want me to stop them from having a good time?" Heath shakes his head. "It's the cat-and-mouse game we've played there for years."

  "And all the girls hate it."

  "Not all the girls—"

  "All the girls. Especially the ones you guys have slept with."

  He scratches the back of his head and shrugs. " I'll tell them to lay off if you can help me get a B."

  "They lay off now."

  His gaze is so hot I feel like I'm being set on fire. Clark clears his throat and Heath cracks a grin and extends his hand. "Deal."

  CHAPTER SIX

  HEATH

  "Remember your deal, bro." Clark hits me with a loose fist and a crooked grin that he practices in the mirror every goddamn day. "Gotta treat these fine ladies of Wings ‘N Brew with the utmost respect."

  "Oh fuck off. I can't believe you left me like that, man. I thought we were best friends."

  "I thought you could handle a tiny little thing like Leigh." Clark shrugs. "Guess not."

  "Who?" Aidan strolls in, whistling, with his hands in his pockets. He looks like a cartoon, which means he just got laid, the lucky sumbitch. I don't know why sex makes him look like an animated piece of shit, but it always does and we always know.

  "Oh, come on." Clark throws a punch at Aidan. That boy needs a release worse than I do. "How are you getting some at fucking two in the afternoon?"

  "How are you NOT?"

  "Heath, your table is ready." A redhead with freckles and tits up to her collar bone waves menus at us and sashays through the crowded tables.

  "Remember your deal." Clark warns, stepping in front of me.

  "Fuck off."

  "What deal?" Aidan asks.

  I shoot Clark the finger and that asshole laughs his way to the table.

  "Heath picked up a tutor."

  "She hot?"

  "No." I shake my head despite the immediate seize in my pants. Despite her face plastered all over my dreams. Despite having coated my shower with jizz a half-dozen times since I had her cornered on Northgate.

  "She doesn't fall at his feet like half the student body and now he's got himself a little crush. You're fucking welcome for setting that shit up." Clark dusts off a shoulder. "Feisty and brainy. Should make for an excellent fuck buddy. I mean study buddy."

  "My cock would probably snap her in half." I fist a handful of peanuts in my mouth and tweak my pants just a hair. "She couldn't handle this."

  "Who?" Aidan asks. "Who is this mystery hot nerd girl whose got Heath all fired up?"

  "I'm not fucking fired up, man. She talks a bunch of shit, I talk a bunch of shit, but I'm going to use her to pass my BusiCalc class and call it good. Don't you fuckers remember what I'm always telling you? Girls ain’t worth the trouble."

  "I beg to differ." Aidan slicks his hair back with a cheeky grin. "Veronica just made this day a whole hell of a lot better, man. Want her number? She could take this nasty edge right off you."

  My face sours. "I am not interested in your contaminated, sloppy seconds, asshole. You've probably got a fucking team of STDs crawling around your junk."

  He shrugs. “Actually, I really dig her. Touch her and I'll have to chop your hands off. Don't want that before the scout comes."

  "Ignore that salty asshole. He's just mad because Leigh’s not jumping in the sack. Now, her friend, on the other hand..." Clark grinds his hips against his seat. "It's in the bag, gentlemen."

  "Bullshit." Aidan and I say in unison.

  "Is that right?" Clark reaches for his phone, pauses, and slides it into his jeans pocket. "Bros, the pictures I got..."

  "Right, so it sounds like Heath is salty as hell, as usual." Aidan tosses his menu on the table and taps out a tune with his knuckles. Coach calls him the Music Man. "Nothing to see here, folks. What happened to your old tutor, anyway?"

  The mere thought of Melanie makes me shudder. "We had an understanding and she broke it. Let's leave it at that."

  Aidan and Clark both stare at me just as the waitress comes up.

  "Howdy, y'all." She puts on a bright smile. I catch myself looking at her twice to make sure she wasn't... never mind. "I'm Hannah and I'll be takin' real good care of y'all this afternoon. Right now, we got half-price domestics and two-for-one wings. Whatcha havin'?"

  Aidan sizes her up “real good” and opens his mouth. I kick him under the table.

  "Three shiners, please. And as many garlic parm wings as you can send the table."

  Hannah scribbles this all down, offers a wink, and walks off. Aidan rubs his ankle and scowls at me.

  "The fuck was that for?"

  Clark actually guffaws, that asshole. He rocks back in his chair and claps his hands.

  "Listen, we can't treat the girls here like they're slabs of meat. Or something." I say it with a tone of finality, but my shoulder blades itch.

  "It's part of the game we all play here, bro. What are you talking about?" Aidan watches Clark and I with a serious ounce of distrust. Can't say I blame him. "We come here and flirt. They come here and flirt. They wear their tits out of their shirts for tips, and we stare because we give the tips. Like, that's the whole damn point of Wings ‘N Brew. Otherwise, it'd be a fucking Buffalo Wild Wings."

  "We're supposed to be respectable dudes." It's physically paining me to say this, especially when every fucking waitress who walks by in tight shorts has me praying it's Leigh. "You just fucked Jessica—"

  "Veronica."

  "Whatever. You just got laid. Try not to act like a jackass. Coach would skin your hide."

  "Now that is gospel." Clark points at me with a nod. "I saw Coach hit the Hooters in Bryan once and tear up the b-string boys. Because that's all those assholes can get, know what I mean? Anyway, they ran drills for like twelve straight hours after that."

  "That's why?" Aidan gapes. "I thought it was because Morgan was banging Coach's daughter and the team covered for him?"

  "No, Evans is banging Coach's daughter. Morgan tried and was epically denied." Hannah drops a beer in my hand and I give her a polite nod in thanks. "But they had to run drills for twelve straight after that shit, too."

  "I hate the number twelve." Aidan grumbled. "It's bullshit."

  "Shut your mouth." Clark flicks him on the sleeve. "Have some respect."

  “Let's get back to how Heath is over here acting like a puss over this shit."

  I take a deep sip and lean forward on my elbows, tired of this “deal” already. "Don't be a dick. The end, fucker. This isn't rocket science."

  "Good thing, right?" Aidan cracks. "Otherwise you'd be failing that, too."

  Red blurs my vision and the urge to beat the fuck out of this wiseass flares through me like a cannonball. I haven't had a good fight in several months, long over do, and the shit Aidan is slinging stinks to high heaven. It's like he wants me to pummel the guts out of him.

  I throw back the rest of my beer and flag Hannah down for another.

  "You’re lucky we're still in season, asswipe."

  Aidan shrugs, good-natured grin on his face. Always smiling, always joking, always acting like shit's no big deal. He's not going anywhere in football once he graduates. Going to help the family business once all is said and down, hocking pigs and tractors and shit. This? It's just fun to him.

  It's not just fun and games to me.

  "Why do you hate women so much?" Aidan taps the base of his bottle against the table. "We all see the girls cling to that QB title and know they want those Heath nuts bad. Why won't you just get it wet every once in a while? You'd be less intense. Always so damn intense, man."

  "Girls are trouble." I peel off the damp label of my bottle and try to keep my head straight. I know what's at stake for me and I need to remember it every time things gets twisted. "You've both got stuff waiting for you outside of the field. This is my fucking life, man. This is where I belong. Remember Tyson? That dude was going to be signed his sophomore year. Best goddamn running back the world had ever seen. Knocks up his girlfriend AND his girlfriend's best friend. Can't be half-assin' it, waiting for a call from the big leagues when you've got child support to pay. That's not going to be me."

  We're silent for a minute and I can only hope that means the message sunk in.

  "So why not wear a condom?"

  "Aidan. Shut the fuck up."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LEIGH

  "I'm going to die soon. The end is near. I can feel it." I collapse in my seat and look over at Sealy.

  "I don’t think this forsaken degree plan is worth my time anymore." Sealy groans.

  "Did Sally Ride decide it wasn't worth her time? No. So you stop that right now." I rap my knuckles on her desk and shake a finger in her face. "Bad Sealy."

  "You look worse than I do. You just said you were going to die soon, Leigh. Death! I can't die. I'm far too young and pretty to leave this wonderful place full of beer and vodka and boys who can bench press me on a beach somewhere while wearing Def Leppard shirts and singing Hank Williams off-key."

  "That's an oddly specific item on that list."

  "See what you miss in Cabo."

  "I will miss Cabo every year if it means skipping the off-key Hank sessions."

  "But it's so cute!" Sealy wrinkles her nose like a bunny, but quickly shrugs. "Okay, maybe you have a point, but that's what the vodka is for."

  "Oo, sandy vodka! Sounds like a delight!"

  "Low calorie, too." She glances at the stack of books on my desk. "Why do you have all of those IN class? Is there a test I forgot about?”

  Because the professor is a monster? Because aerothermochemistry is a monster? Because I need a whole separate brain sometimes to process the information? Because I'm working so much to have freaking money to move out of this Podunk town and actually make something of myself, while sacrificing precious study time to do it?

  “Just in case.” I say instead.

  “That’s it. I’m quitting.”

  "Sally Ride, Seals. Sally fucking Ride."

  "Women are wasted in this profession." Jack yawns in front of us and my insides immediately turn molten. "Exploration is men’s work and you're taking up valuable resources. Don't you have wings to serve or some shit?"

  "Ah yes, career commentary from the boy whose daddy has to regularly build new monuments on campus to keep his invalid son on the football team and in classes he can't even begin to comprehend." I stuck my lower lip out at the jackass while mentally bludgeoning him with a sharp stick.

  It's a fun game I play every day Jack actually decides to show up: how many objects can I use to bash his head in? I've gotten very creative over the last few months.

  "I'm sorry, did you say something? It's hard to hear you over all the tits you've got going on." Jack flashes a wicked, assholish smile and eyes Sealy. "I didn't realize another one of you is trying to slither in the front door."

  “I’ve been here all semester, dumbass. Guess you never noticed since you’re never in class.”

  "You do realize you are an archaic piece of shit, right?" I soothe down the poison bubbling in my belly to keep my voice even, but it's a game I'm slowly losing. "You're one of like three people on the planet who feels this way? Time to catch up to the rest of the century, Jack, otherwise you'll be flipping burgers for the rest of your life."