It might be my fucked up heart.
I have to suck it up, like she said earlier. I can’t have everything I want.
“We’ve got this in the bag, cap.” Carter slaps my back. “Sorry about that last play, bro. That dude is a fuckin’ tank.”
“Feels like it even more when he takes you down.”
Carter chortles like I’m joking. I’m not.
I’m so tired. I wish I was at home with my sketchbook and Lancelot sitting on my feet.
Instead I’m stuck here, with everyone looking to me to bring it home. If I don’t get us a win, we lose our chances at the championship playoffs. For every other dude on the team that goal is serious. It’s in their eyes, the fierce need to win broiling beneath the surface. I see it when they look my way.
For me, I don’t give a shit, but it’s still weighing on my shoulders as the team captain.
I crave the heady relief of washing my hands of this and walking away. Something stops me and keeps me tethered every time I think I’ve worked up enough courage to pick what I want instead of what’s expected of me.
This game used to be fun when I tossed the ball at the beach by the lake with my friends. I played because I had a good time. The weight of growing assumption for me to keep winning—to aim for impressing drafting scouts and go pro—slowly crushes me into the damp grass beneath my cleats.
No one cares what I want. They only see my potential because I’m good at the game. It sucks all the enjoyment out of it when there’s pressure to make it my career.
What does it say about me that I’ve sometimes wished for a serious injury to take me out, to keep me from playing for good? But fate has been a kind asshole to me, leaving the decision in my hands. I just have to be strong enough.
I lean against the fence and Carter stands beside me, flirting with the Coyote Girls cooing at us above in the stands.
“Wave at the fans.” Carter nudges me. “Look how adoring they are. Easy pickings for a post-game blowjob. Get your dick wet, man, you look like a fucking grim reaper right now.”
I hide a grimace and give a half-hearted wave to the girls just so Carter will get off my ass. Gemma fills my head again. I flick a glance over the stands, despite knowing it’s pointless. She’s not here.
“Did you tap that sweet piece of ass yet? Mm, she’s so fine.”
“Just about.” I cover my tight tone with a cocky laugh. “I’ve got her moaning all pretty for me.”
“So where’s the goods? Get that proof before someone else slides in and takes the pot from you.” Carter waggles his eyebrows and pushes the sweaty hair back from his head. He lights up and grabs my jersey to tug me closer, like he has a secret. “Oh! I’ve got a great way to hide your phone so you can record it while you fuck her. I tried it out last weekend, worked like a charm. Remind me to show you after we win tonight.” He flashes me a salacious smirk. It turns my stomach. “I swear, this chick squirted all over my dick.”
I sincerely doubt that. I’ve seen first hand what Carter’s like with girls.
“Yeah, man. Cool.”
We used to hunt for frogs along the lake’s edge, skip rocks, and scrape our knees on the trails. Somewhere along the way, I blinked and Carter changed from the kid I befriended in middle school.
“What’s the deal? You’re losing your touch. Usually you’d have pounded her and been done within a week. I heard Marissa complaining to Elena. She’s getting all antsy that you’re still avoiding her.”
I have no idea what Marissa has to do with any of this.
Carter leans closer. “What’s your next plan for taking that chick down a peg?”
I falter, searching for an answer I don’t have. There are no other plans. I haven’t thought about the bet I started in a while, too absorbed in Gemma. I don’t care about destroying her anymore. I just want her.
My eyes cut to Alec on the bench. I suck on my teeth and endure the roll of guilt moving through my chest. I feel a little shitty talking about his sister with him right there. Hopefully he can’t hear us.
“I’m going slow with her. Making her fall for me.”
Carter guffaws. “Sick, brother. You’re ruthless. You’re not just going to break that prude, you’re going to obliterate her. She’ll never think twice about crossing you again.”
A shadow of doubt punches me in the stomach. I started all this. This is my fault for turning my friends on her.
But I can’t regret it.