"I wouldn't want to steal the thunder from you and Clark."

  "Don't try to act cute to get out of this." She snaps. "Leigh is my best friend and the most kickass girl you could ever meet. You two both have these weirdass issues about relationships, but you were both willing to put that shit aside to be together whenever you were drunk enough to forget you weren't supposed to be there in the first place. She's worth the risk, Heath."

  "I know you heard all about the fight we had. You really want her to talk to me after that? After the things I said?"

  "Oh, this is absolutely about her happiness and not yours. Let's not get that twisted for a hot minute." She offers a smile. "But Clark feels the same. If it's any consolation. You both graduate this year and word is you're off to play pro ball sometime soon."

  "Maybe. The scout said he'd call, but Coach hasn't told me anything yet." The stress this was causing was making everything worse, too. I thought I'd totally botched my chances when we got word he showed up at the game after my fight with Leigh. Coming back from that was rough.

  "I'm not saying you need to pledge the rest of your lives together. Just fucking admit you care about her and go say something. This is college, Heath Davis. This is your last chance to enjoy life before adulthood really takes over."

  "Are you going to keep staring at me like you're going to eat my soul if I don't?"

  "Every moment of your life."

  Things don't feel that simple. They're never that simple. Still, part of me knows she’s worth trying for anyway. Probably. "I'll think about it."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  LEIGH

  Resume writing is vying for second place on my list of Worst Things to Happen to Leigh During This School Year. Not that I'm pessimistic enough to keep a running list all year... usually. This one just carries a lot of terrible things and we're only in the middle of the semester. It requires extra vigilance and some Prosecco.

  "Find anything exciting?" Sealy drops next to me with a chilled bottle of a white wine mix and two mason jars with crazy straws. The whole thing is very College Station. "I thought we'd toast job hunting on a different coast with better aesthetics by being as country as possible."

  "The crazy straws are a nice touch."

  "Definitely one of my finer moments. Whatcha got? Is NASA ready to accept us as fresh-faced astronauts yet? Can I flirt my way aboard the ISS?"

  "Unlikely while all the grumpy old men still run things. The day a young hot guy takes over, though..." We toast one another and sip loudly on our straws. "This just made this whole crappy experience like 100 times better."

  Sealy peaks over my laptop and raises her eyebrows. "California? What happened to DC?"

  "I want something new before I resign myself to a life of government work, you know? Even if this government work is freaking space exploration, I'd like to see the rest of the country first. California beaches are calling my name. Their beaches are worth the traffic, but I don't think Maryland is the same."

  "My uncles live in Maryland and girl, let me tell you. You think you've seen beautiful beaches? Wait until you see their mountains."

  "California just feels right." I shrug and take an extra-large slurp. "Maybe I can be Elon Musk's third wife. Because that appears to be the only way to get into Space-X."

  "Now you're just talking dirty."

  "Private sector space flight, baby."

  "Oh, Leigh. You'll just make me come all over the couch."

  "Working 100 hours a week. Missions to Mars. Questionable benefits."

  "I'm coming!" Sealy screeches and we laugh until she gets her serious face on. "Speaking of orgasms."

  I stare at her through squinty eyes while I sip on my wine to ease the pain of whatever she's about to drop in my lap. "I hate you."

  "Fucking genius, Leigh. Don't be jealous. Anyway. I happened to notice that things have been very... um, less quiet on your side of the apartment."

  "Are you seriously doing this right now? Do I need to pull out the recordings of you and Clark after a night out? Because holy fuck, Seal..."

  "Oh, Leigh, let's not make this about me. We're instead talking about your lack of a sex life and how that vibrator has been working overtime—"

  "Oh my god." I throw a pillow over my head so I don't have to look at the ridiculous faces she's making, and so I can hide the fact my face is surely three different splotchy shades of red.

  "I'm concerned about the vitality of your poor vibe. He's going to die soon, Leigh. Do you really want that blood on your hands?"

  My voice is muffled behind the pillow. I'd like to die now. "That's what fresh batteries are for."

  "For the greater good of vibrators everywhere, I think you need to get properly laid. And interestingly enough, I know just the guy—"

  I throw the pillow at her. "I don't like where this is going, Sealy Shepperd, not one bit."

  "See, he also has been relying on the tried and true 'hands on' method, if you will." She uses freaking air quotes and everything. "Because he had a terrible fight with this girl he really super likes—"

  "Okay, that's enough." I slam my laptop shut and jump off the couch for more wine. "I don't want to have this conversation sober. I don't want to have this conversation at all."

  "I figured you'd say that. There's an open bottle on the counter."

  I pop my head out of the kitchen to say, "Hate you."

  "Love you, too."

  Fuck the glass. I drop the straw in the bottle and stomp into the living room. "Why did you talk to him?"

  "Because he keeps moping around the fucking field during their training camp thing and I was getting really tired of it. He is a perpetual mood killer every time I'm with Clark. Kinda like you are when I'm with Clark."

  My heart seizes but I quickly force all thoughts of hope and reconciliation out of my mind. I heard everything he had to say on the matter, including me using him for a status symbol. That, of all things, probably hurt the worst.

  "Yeah, well he can keep screwing himself for all eternity. I told him I was done and I meant it. We weren't anything, anyway."

  "Bullshit. You were more than just fuckbuddies and someone needs to finally admit that before I go insane. Just because you stole kisses when you thought no one was looking definitely doesn't mean that you weren't a thing."

  "We were not a thing. We were just... using each other for our various needs. The needs ended, thus we ended." I slurp the wine loudly. "Now, can we go back to shit talking Space-X for being so goddamn elitist?"

  "Sure, if by Space-X you mean Heath Davis, and if by elitist, you mean how you two need to get together and talk about shit, and or fuck, then sure. Let's do that." She slurps just as loudly and crosses her legs with an impressive amount of flair. "Can you please cut the crap for two seconds and admit you have serious feelings for this boy?"

  "No." I shake my head firmly and slosh wine over my heads. "He's a cow town football meathead. I'm the girl with the brains. We don't belong together."

  "If this were a Reese Witherspoon movie, you would totally belong together."

  "I don't look like Reese or have a southern accent, so I guess I'm out of luck. Now, about Elon Musk—"

  "You moaned his name last night, Leigh." Sealy stares at me with arched eyebrows and a wicked smile. She looks like every Disney villain ever drawn. "Admit you care about him and miss him. Admit he filled a space you needed filled, pun intended, and you aren't ready for that to end."

  "We'll part ways in a matter of months."

  "I never said get married."

  "I don't love him."

  "I never said you were. But you definitely have feelings for this guy, otherwise you wouldn't have cleaned out our entire collection of Ben and Jerry's, which I am still not over, you wicked creature."

  The whole thing is so insane. As much as I'd love to have it all go away, I don't think I can overlook everything that happened. "He really hurt me, Sealy."

  "I know." She softens. "Believe me, I know. I've held you on this very couch while you've cried and lamented over having feelings for a cow town football meathead. But you have, and you do. Leigh, for once in your life, go after something that makes you happy and won't threaten to ruin you mentally."

  "Too late." I say bitterly, already hearing his words play through my head all over again.

  "No, no. You stop that right now. He said some stupid shit, but so did you, Leigh. I'm not saying he was right to say any of that, but did you ever stop to think about the things he said to you? About how you made him feel, too?"

  "You can't possibly be taking his side."

  "I said I wasn't, and I'm not. I swear. But I think playing devil's advocate for half a minute might do you some good. And in case you deleted his number, I'm putting it back in there right now."

  "I hate you."

  Sealy hugs me tight. "I'm your best friend. Now listen to me."

  "I'll think about it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HEATH

  When I was twelve, my best friend Doug double-dog dared me to climb on top of his older brother's Jeep and moon the neighborhood girls in their treehouse. They wouldn't let boys in and we wouldn't let them be until some sort of revenge was extracted. It was brilliant, really, climbing on top of that ratty Wrangler and shoving my ass in the air.

  The next day, Robin told everyone I had a hairy ass with lots of pimples. She took pictures and threatened to spread them all over school in revenge. They called me Pimple Ass for half the year, until I kicked everyone's ass on the football field and made them reconsider their life choices.

  "Dude, just suck it up and roll with it. It'll be fine." Clark calls through his car window. "Chicks love this shit in the movies."

  "I think I'd rather be called Pimple Ass again."

  "What?"

  "Never mind."

  It's not the embarrassment of the set up. Between the ancient boombox Sealy dug up in a prop closet and the candles and flowers, this looks like every chick flick wet dream. I'm dressed in my best jeans, my nicest button-down, and trimmed appropriately for any bedroom activities that I really fucking hope follow this whole ordeal. I feel good about all that.

  It's if she says no.

  I don't think I can stomach another rejection from Leigh. Not because she's the brainy girl who should be grateful someone like me pays attention to her, which I accept is bullshit because she's hotter than me anyway. It's because I don't think I can put myself out there again for someone who I can't seem to get out of my head.

  "Can't wait to hear the x-rated details." Clark says. "We'll be waiting."

  "On bated breath." Sealy climbs into his car. "She'll be out in like two seconds. Hope you're ready."

  "Hey Davis!" Someone yells behind us. "Nice box. Think this is some '90s movie?"

  "Fuck off." I shoot the finger behind me without even bothering to see who it was. I need to be in the zone. It's time to fix the mess I made.

  The music is some eclectic mix of stuff Sealy sent me, stuff I didn't recognize but wasn't terrible. I heft a bottle cap in my palm, hope with all my might that this works, and toss it against her window.

  "Leigh!"

  The longest five seconds of my life spill before me, waiting for her to appear on her patio. When she does, she's a vision. Hair pulled up, dressed like she's ready to lounge around or throw a ball in the parking lot, lips pursed and ready to say... well, hopefully very nice things. She’s not glamorous and she’s not plain. She’s… perfect.

  She grips the railing and takes in the scene I've set up just for her. "What is this?"

  "Leigh, I'm an idiot."

  "Yes."

  I pause, not expecting her to actually answer. It throws me and the whole thing feels like a total waste until she smiles. It's small but there's no denying that familiar curve of her mouth.

  "I guess I deserve that."

  "Maybe. Probably.” She swallows hard and looks away. “Maybe I do, too."

  "No. You were right. About everything. Yes, there is a lot that is dangerous about the sport I love. Yes, there is a high injury rate. Yes, I said a lot of stupid shit about you because I couldn't admit to everyone that I had feelings for you. But not for the reasons you think. I've spent a long time telling people I don't need anyone, Leigh, and you made me question whether or not I'd been full of shit the whole time."

  I exhale slowly and hope to god that asshole is not still behind me, because I think I'll kill him if he interrupts.

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like someone unworthy of attention and care. You are the brightest, smartest, funniest person I've ever met. You're better than every guy I know. If you let me teach you some basics, I don't doubt you could kick Jack's ass across the field in about three seconds."

  "I would love that so much."

  "I know."

  A full smile finally takes over her face and I know I've won. It's the victory march, the War Hymn, I needed. She chews on her lower lip and looks around, almost embarrassed, like she doesn't know where to go. I hold up the tulips.

  "I was kinda hoping you'd come down here so I could give you these."

  Leigh cocks her head back and forth, nose wrinkled, every bit the adorable, sexy woman I've missed.

  “I know I don’t deserve your time. I know that. But I also know I can’t live another moment without trying to prove to you that I’m sorry. Will you please come join me in the middle of this flower circle and commiserate over how terrible I am?”

  "I guess I could do that."

  In the mere seconds it takes her to come down stairs, I let myself have one victorious fist pump. I'll be damned. Sealy was right.

  I walk slowly to meet her, not wanting to scare her off, but she takes one look at me and runs into my arms, jumping to wrap her legs around my waist. After weeks without, I'm enveloped in the scent of her. All pretenses aside, it's exactly where I want to be.

  "Leigh, I—"

  Just like the first afternoon we came together, she rushes to meet me for a kiss and hesitates just before we can touch. A game of kiss-chicken. Only this time we both hold our breaths. This is the last bridge to cross before everything is truly okay. Before I've truly won. I've sent the spiral and am waiting to see if I can pull off this epic Hail Mary.

  "You're a cow town football meathead.” She says quietly. “That's what I've called you."

  "Stuck up nerdy waitress."

  "That's fair." Her lips whisper against me, teasing me with the promise of her kiss. "I do think I'm better than a lot of people here."

  "That's because you are." I close my eyes to better savor the feel of her against me. We're in the middle of everything and she still manages to make it feel intimate. "I guess I am kind of a cow town football meathead. Hopefully, soon, I'll be a big city football meatball head, though. I've got big dreams, you know."

  "And I'll be a stuck up nerdy space engineer. Soon the school year will end and we'll go our separate ways."

  "There's still a lot of football-free weekends between now and then."

  Her voice drops to a soft whisper. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

  "You? More than I can say, Leigh. Words aren't my specialty, not like this. I can tease and I can be a smartass. I can't make the words come out right to tell you that instead of being an asshole and picking on you, I want to cherish and treasure you. I don't care about the future, or how quickly it gets here. I just know I want to wait it out with you by my side."

  "I think that's a pretty perfect way to say it."

  "Well, I am Heath Davis."

  "Oh my god." She groans with a smile in her voice and a tear in her eye. "You're ridiculous."

  "You love it, though."

  "I do." She presses her forehead to mine. "I do."

  "Forgive me?"

  "Only if you can forgive me for being an inconsiderate asshole about the things that are important to you."

  "People say stupid things when they are trying to run from the good in their lives."

  "That's what Sealy said."

  "I know." I tighten my grin on her thighs around my waist, desperate for the taste of her on my lips. "Leigh. Forgive me. Be with me. Please."

  I can't wait for her answer any longer and claim her mouth with my own. She opens to me like the flowers in the grocery store, like the perfect throw in a game, like the girl who belongs at my side.

  In between the sweetness of her lips and the heat of her tongue, she whispers, "Yes.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  LEIGH

  "I think I'm going to be sick." I pace in the tiled hallway, trying to peek through the slim window in the door, but the asshole prof has covered it up. "He's taking forever."

  "I'm sure it's fine." Sealy flips through a magazine like this isn't one of the biggest days of my life. Our life. Our lives? Whatever, it's huge.

  "What if he's taking so long because he's forgotten everything?"

  "You used flash cards for like six weeks. You used freaking football analogies. In the spring. No, baby girl, I'm sure he's got it and is just checking his work."

  "That's a really long time to check his work."

  "Not everyone can be geniuses like us."

  She has a point. "True."

  Her words don't soothe me, though. Heath and I have spent what felt like a billion hours studying for his big midterm exam. We've studied so long we fell asleep before we could have sex on countless nights. When we weren't working or sleeping together or talking shit about LSU and TU (yes, I've converted), we were studying. The wait is going to kill me dead.

  "It'll be fine." Sealy says again, snapping a dozen selfies with her breasts prominently displayed. No doubt for Clark. I don't want to see what's on the receiving end of her phone.

  Well, okay, I do and I don't. She's spent so much time bragging about the size of his dick that I'm almost desperate to know, but he's practically a brother to me now, and that would be really weird. Confliction emotions are weirder.