Page 83 of For Emery

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, almost unable to speak.

Flip shrugged. “How’s it going?”

I stared at him with anger flaring inside me. Not only had he scared me half to death, but he also set up Jordan. And that was not okay. “That’s what you want to say to me?”

His brows dipped. “What?”

“The fight with Jordan. I heard his side.”

A harsh, humorless laughed escaped him as he crossed his arms. “So, let me guess? You believe him?”

“Yup. Because he’s never lied to me.”

“He’s in love with you, Emery. He hasn’t been lying about that?”

“Denial and lying are two different things. What you did was lie. You skewed it so the story worked in your favor. And the sucky thing about it? I believed you. I didn’t want to even hear his side.”

He looked down.

“I was wrong to believe you. And I told Jordan that.”

He glanced up at me, like he wanted to say something, but I wasn’t finished yet.

“You know, it really sucks because you were my first friend here. I thought you’d be in my life for the next four years. But you messed that up. For no reason.”

He still said nothing.

“I’m not here to lecture you, but just so you don’t mess it up with the next girl you befriend you need to know something. A real friend wants you to be happy. They don’t try to sabotage your happiness.” I twisted the knob on my door and left Flip in the hallway as I walked into my room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Grady

The home crowd filled the stadium with a roar you didn’t get in any other college football stadium. Our fans were crazy about their football. And we loved it. We thrived on their cheers and we worked our asses off when we knew we’d disappointed them.

For the first time in four years, Em stood in the front row beside my dad with my number painted in white on her cheeks. I loved knowing Em was there for me and only me.

I hadn’t spoken to my dick of a QB since I’d clocked his ass. Sure, he tried to celebrate my touchdown the previous week, but tapping his fist was only for show. Those potential teams—and everyone else watching at home—needed to know I was a team player. They needed to see nothing but greatness from me. Unfortunately, after last week’s amazing display, I wasn’t sure I could top it. So, I went into this game ready to give it one-hundred-and-ten percent effort. No one could fault me for that.

From the first snap, I was on fire. Block after block felt effortless for me. The guys and I were in sync on the field. The receivers were always right where they needed to be to catch passes. Even Flip could do no wrong when it came to his passes. By the half we were winning by twenty-one.

The team and I ran back out to the sideline after half time. I glanced to my dad and Em, expecting them to be cheering with the rest of the fans, but they weren’t. They were engrossed in a conversation with a man who stood in the aisle. I tried to discern who he was, but I didn’t recognize him. Having no time to figure it out, I grabbed my helmet and got my ass back out on the field.

We scored again on third and fifteen, this time due to a nice hand-off to Hayes, our sophomore running back. It was good to see the younger guys getting some play and making names for themselves. As I ran off the field after the touchdown, I glanced to the stands. My dad and Em were cheering us on, and the man they’d been speaking to had disappeared.

We won again by a landslide and Flip got all the attention after the game. I jogged over to my dad and Em before heading to the locker room.

“Hey.”

“Great game,” Em gushed.

“Nice work out there, Jordan,” my dad said.

“Thanks.”

“Want to get some dinner?” my dad asked.

“Sure. I’ll meet you and Em by the locker room in about twenty minutes.”

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