“Why are you worried about me?”

  “Are you going to sleep on the couch the whole time she’s here?”

  I sit up so I can see him. “Probably.”

  “You good with that?”

  Weiss doesn’t ask a lot of questions. He’s an observer. An outsider no matter how hard you try to pull him in. Aloof, that’s what Mama would say.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie.

  “Really?”

  “What are you getting at?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. Takes a sip of the water he’s poured himself. “I’m just asking, that’s all. I would think you’d be annoyed to be on the couch again after we moved to get you your own room.”

  “Are you annoyed?”

  “I told you. I’m asking for you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine,” he echoes.

  “What the fuck is happening? You’re being weird.”

  “Have you talked to her about it?”

  “About what?” I ask sharply. I’m getting annoyed by this answer-a-question-with-a-question routine.

  Weiss comes to sit on the chair across from me. His face in shadow, his back hunched to rest his elbows on his knees. “You asked her about the rumors.”

  “Yeah. On the way here.”

  It’s not until I’ve answered him that I realize it wasn’t a question.

  “And you’re fine?”

  “Jesus, dude,” I growl.

  “Why are you mad?”

  “Why are you asking all these questions?”

  “Because I’m your friend and I’m worried about you. You’re getting in deep, man. I see the way you guys are together. You act like you’re together, but you’re not. And you’re not going to be. Not for quite a while, right?”

  He knows. I don’t know how he knows – she must have told him – but he definitely knows why she’s fucking these guys.

  Why did she tell him? When?

  Why am I so jealous about it?

  “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly, because I don’t. I have no idea how long she plans on collecting her sexual Pokémon.

  “However long it is, are you going to be okay waiting?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know”

  “That’s what I was worried about.”

  “I’m not gonna stop hanging out with her.”

  “You should at least tell her how you feel about her.”

  “I have. I did.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “What the fuck do you want me to do? What’s the point of all this?”

  He stands, slapping me on the shoulder as he leaves the room, “I don’t know.”

  I hate him so much.

  I’m too confused and annoyed to say anything. He wouldn’t listen if I did. He shuffles back to his room, closing his door without a sound. He’ll be asleep in the next five minutes while I’ll be sitting here staring at the walls, wide awake, stuffed full of questions and uncertainty.

  Motherfucking Weiss!

  I sit there for an hour running through everything. Reviewing every tape I have on Brooklyn. I search for a recent fuckup, something I’m doing wrong with her living here, but I can’t find anything. I don’t know what his problem is. Or why it feels like it’s mine now.

  Twenty minutes later, I get up to pee. I should go back to the couch after that, but I don’t. I go down the hall. I end up outside my own bedroom door, knocking softly.

  “Yeah?” Brooklyn calls from inside.

  I open the door slowly. Light from the hall drifts in behind me, slanting across her face. She’s sitting up in bed with expectant, tired eyes.

  “Butler?” she mumbles.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothin’. I— Fuck it. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” I pull the door closed behind me.

  “Hey, wait,” she calls softly.

  I hesitate, the door nearly shut. “Yeah?”

  “Come in.”

  “You were sleeping.”

  “Come here. Close the door.”

  I close the door behind me. We’re plunged in complete darkness. Not even a streetlight outside will help me find the bed, and maybe that’s for the best. I should just lay down on the floor, get as comfortable as I can, and go to sleep. Or I should go back to the couch and pretend this half-hatched stupid-ass move never made it past my lower brain functions.

  “Butler,” Brooklyn calls quietly.

  I follow the sound of her voice. I each for her on instinct, our fingers brushing in the blackness. She latches onto me. She pulls me down onto the bed next to her where it’s warm and so, so fucking soft.

  “Stay with me,” she whispers.

  I don’t answer. I don’t leave. I slide in under the blanket with her and wrap my body around her from behind, spooning her tightly. Tighter than I should, but she doesn’t complain.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I nod my head. My nose brushes her hair. It smells so good, I delve in deeper until I find her neck. Her shoulder. I breathe in deeply, inhaling her. I breathe out slowly, hot air pooling on her skin.

  She shudders. Shivers. My arms hold her tighter as her hands find mine, our fingers intertwining.

  She turns her head toward me. Her cheek brushes against my nose and I lean in to kiss it once. Just once. I feel her smile when I do, so I do it again. And again. Her cheek. Her jaw. Her ear and the tender bit of neck just below it.

  Her fingers tighten around mine.

  Her breath hitches in her throat.

  My chest is struggling to hold my heart in place. It thumps wildly the longer my lips are on her skin. I leave warm, wet memories in the space between her neck and shoulder. On her back. I kiss my way across every inch of open flesh I can find as she starts to move against me, her ass rubbing me longingly.

  Brooklyn drags my hands over her body until I’m cupping her. Groping her. She guides me down inside her shorts, her underwear thin as air. I hold her sex and feel her heat. Her body trembles against mine. Her breath hitches as my dick stiffens against her ass. My fingers open her, spreading her so I can feel that velvet smooth softness inside.

  I close my eyes against the sheer agony of it. It’s everything I knew it would be. So warm and tender. So secret despite everything I know about her. This is new. This is the Holy Land. I press my mouth against her shoulder in a gentle kiss as I delve inside her.

  We shudder together.

  Two fingers.

  Three.

  She moans.

  I fall apart.

  Holding her tightly, I roll onto my back so she’s laying on top of me, her face pointed toward the ceiling. Her head falls over my shoulder, arcing her back, pressing her breast into my other hand that grabs at it greedily.

  Her legs fall open. Her hips start to move.

  I feel like I’m going insane.

  She holds my hand hard against her, forcing me to squeeze her breast until it has to hurt, but she’s not complaining. She’s grinding on me, her ass rubbing against my dick so we’re both moaning. Breathing hard. Gasping and writhing in my bed that’s barely big enough for the two of us.

  I press my thumb against her clit.

  She bucks hard, her body going stiff. “Fuck,” she breathes in surprise.

  I do it again. And again.

  Brooklyn moans in the back of her throat; low and feral. Happy like a cat. We find a rhythm together, my fingers and her hips rolling. She pulls my hand off her breast and up to her mouth, pressing my palm against her lips to muffle her cries.

  She wants to be quiet.

  She wants this just for us.

  I just fucking want her.

  I pull her face toward mine where I can kiss her. Finally. Her mouth is so open, so wet and desperate with every uneven breath as I dive my fingers inside her over and over. She licks my lips, my teeth, my tongue. She covers my mouth with hers until I can barely breathe and I’m burning. I’m dying.

  Her hands grab my hips. Her body works recklessly, grinding against me in a mad rush that sends me flying into nothing.

  “Hmmmmmm,” I moan loudly into her mouth.

  She smiles. She’s still gasping and groaning, but fuck me, she’s smiling as she does it. As she listens to me lose my shit over her.

  I slip my fingers out of her, pinching her clit.

  She jerks her face away, pinching her lips together to contain her cries. She shudders. She breaks apart, screaming in the confines of her sweet mouth.

  It’s the prettiest sound in the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Brooklyn’s going home today. Two days after I finger fucked her.

  Not five. Not six or four.

  Two.

  It sucks but it’s not a surprise. The second she invited me into bed with her, I knew she would go. It was inevitable. As inevitable as what happened.

  I wouldn’t trade that night for anything. I needed it. I needed her. I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t feel her somehow. Even a kiss would have done it, but what we did was a thousand times better. I’ll live off that night for the next two months that we’re apart.

  What then?

  I don’t know the answer to that. I’m not asking either. That’s some foresight shit, and I don’t deal in that currency. I’m pretty good at living in the aftermath of the unknown. That’s my sweet spot.

  “Did you get everything?” I ask her when I drop her off at the airport.

  We’re standing outside security, stalling. Our fingers are laced loosely together. She was hugging me earlier while we waited to get her ticket. Her arms were wrapped around my waist, her ear against my chest. I rested my chin on the top of her head as I rubbed slow circles over her back. It was comfortable and intimate. Serious relationship vibes, but I know that’s not what it was. Not the way everyone else sees it.

  “I think so,” she says with certainty.

  “If I find anything you left behind, I’m masturbating with it. House rules.”

  Brooklyn laughs. “I think I forgot my hot iron.”

  “I’ll mail it to you.”

  “Oh, you’re not going to fuck it?”

  “If I didn’t fuck the pineapple, I’m not fucking hair tools.”

  Her eyes go wide. “I didn’t see it at the house. Is it gone?”

  “It’s there.”

  “Where?”

  “Hidden.”

  “Where?” she insists, giggling.

  I smile, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Somewhere safe. I didn’t want you to steal it.”

  Her eyes flutter at my touch. She practically purrs, “Why would I steal it?”

  “To remember me by.”

  “I’ll remember you, Butler. How could I ever forget?”

  I don’t answer that question. It leads to other questions and ugly things, and I want to end this on a high note. I want her to remember what it felt like to be with me, my hand in her hair, my fingers wrapped up in hers. I want her to remember when she’s in front of some Draft bound asshole with a condom in his pocket.

  “Will you call me tonight?” she asks.

  “Will you answer?”

  She grins. “Maybe.”

  She will.

  “Text me when you land,” I tell her.

  “I will. I—"

  They call her flight. It’s the last time.

  Brooklyn visibly deflates. “I have to go.”

  “I know.”

  She rises up on her toes to kiss my cheek; light and lingering.

  Her fingers separate slowly from mine.

  I clench them hard, pulling her back to me with a gentle jerk. Her chest hits mine. Her mouth falls open in surprise.

  I kiss her solidly. I don’t push it beyond my lips against hers, my fingers threading through her hair to the back of her neck, but it’s enough. It’s a reminder she’ll take with her of what this is. What she’s missing.

  Her hands take hold of my shoulders to keep her balance. Then they’re pulling me to her. She’s leaning into the kiss.

  That’s when I pull back.

  I release her slowly, licking my lips to savor the taste of her. One last time. “Bye, B.”

  She shakes her head, her eyes half closed. Her mouth open and breathless. “Bye, Butler.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Step right up!” I shout to the crowd. I wave people forward, pointing to the banner across the tent behind me. “Earl Hall! Bring it in! Welcome home! You, with the lamp! Are you Earl Hall?!”

  The girl carrying a fat white lamp with a glittering shade giggles, her face turning bright red. “Um, yeah. I think so.”

  “Let’s find out, girl! Come on up. Don’t be shy. What’s your name?”

  “Elsie.”

  “Welcome to the U of O, Elsie. I’m Butler.”

  A woman in her forties with a fresh blowout is lugging a massive Target bag behind Elsie. “Are you on the football team?”

  This is why Ashlyn asked me to wear my jersey. She wanted people to feel special that the team was here to support them.

  “O Line!” I proclaim proudly. I offer the mom my hand, taking her bag from her. “Butler Shay. Nice to meet you.”

  She smiles because I’m handsome and charming. “Suse.”

  “Suzie?”

  “Suse,” she corrects.

  “Got it,” I lie. I usher her and Elsie toward the tent where she can check in and get her room assignment. “Let me know when they tell you where you’re going and I’ll get someone to help you with your stuff, alright?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Elsie giggles again. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Els.”

  I wander down the lawn toward the parking lot. “Welcome to Move in Day! Come on up and get checked it!”

  “Jesus, brother, you’re a born carnival barker,” Togiai laughs, lumbering up the lawn toward me.

  “To-gi-ai!” I chant. “You made it, man.”

  “You begged.”

  “I did. It was pathetic, but it worked.” I clap hands with him, stepping in for a half hug. “Thanks for coming.”

  “How’d you get roped into this?”

  “You mean how did we get roped into this?” I nod down the lawn to another tent for another dorm. “See the blond with the clipboard?”

  “She’s cute.”

  “Yeah, she is. She’s so cute she talked me into volunteering for the day.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “She was an RA when I lived in this building. She’s something else now. Like a manager or something. She might be running this whole thing, I don’t know.”

  He watches her for a second. The wheels are turning. “Did you and her…”

  “Nope. Not even close. One hundred percent just friends.”

  “Butler?”

  I turn to find Elsie hesitantly holding out a yellow slip to me. “They gave me my room?”

  “Nice. Let me see.” I check the number. It’s on the third floor and the car Elsie got out of looks packed to the gills. Lots of big boxes.

  I quickly hand the slip to Togiai. “Elsie, this is my guy Jason Togiai. Jason, this is Elsie and Suze.”

  “Suse,” Mom corrects.

  “Yep.” I clap Togiai on his robust chest. “He’s gonna help you get your stuff up to your room. You got the biggest muscles on the team at your disposal. Make him work!”

  Suse smiles in amazement at Togiai’s size. He’s easily a foot taller than her and her daughter. “My gosh, what a reception,” she gushes. “Is the whole team here today?”

  “Just the greatest hits.”

  “Is Jake Eustis here?”

  “All but that hit,” I smile. “He’s a busy guy.”

  Busy trying to figure out how to be an athlete, a student, and a father to a kid in a different state. Jackson came down with a nasty flu last night. He got admitted into the E.R. and Eustis flew down to Cali early this morning to be with him. We don’t know when he’ll be back.

  Hopefully soon. We’ve got a game tomorrow.

  Togiai follows Elsie and Suzie Suse to their car to start unloading while I call for the next group of freshmen.

  “Come on up, man! Let’s get your room key and get your new life going!”

  Over the next four hours, I dance with the Oregon Duck mascot, I get over sixty freshmen equipped with their keys and maps and insider information on the best places to eat around campus, and I pocket four phone numbers. Girls new to freedom on the prowl.

  I fucking love it.

  By the end, I’m exhausted. My voice is shot. I’m ready for a beer and an evening in, but I can’t do either. There’s a team meeting tonight and a game tomorrow. Our fourth.

  Washington is coming to town.

  We’ve already faced North Dakota, Colorado, and Hawaii, scoring big wins against all of them. The Huskies are talking like they’re going to upset our streak, but it’s not likely. Not with the shaky quarterback they signed in the spring. The guy was a three-star to start but he’s showing signs of being more of a two. I said from the start that their offensive line couldn’t keep him safe, and I was right. He’s easy pickings for our defense.

  “Butler!” Ashlyn shouts.

  I wait for her to catch up with me in the parking lot. She’s smiling, her body filled with an energy that never seems to weaken.

  “Hey, I wanted to thank you for coming,” she says. “And for bringing friends. I was able to put a player at every dorm entrance. It made such an impact on our freshman.”

  “We were happy to be here.”

  “I liked Jason. He’s fun.”

  “Togiai? Did he hit on you?”

  She blinks, surprised. “Uh, no. Was he supposed to?”

  “I thought he might.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “He said you were cute.”

  She beams. “Really?”

  “Can I give him your number?”

  Ashlyn laughs, “I feel like you’re trying to marry me off, Butler.”

  “I think you guys would hit it off. Sorry if I’m overstepping.”

  “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t ready for you to be so eager to see me date one your friends.”

  “Oh.” Shit. “Did you—I don’t know if I—”

  “You didn’t give me the wrong impression. It’s not your fault.” She cringes, glancing back at the dorm. “I think I give myself the wrong impression sometimes.”