Page 14 of For Emery

My head shot back. “No shit?”

She nodded, her red curls bouncing all around. “You were just always with that little blonde who followed you around.”

“She didn’t follow me around,” I snapped.

Clearly not sensing my escalating anger, she giggled. “The guys said you let her because it boosted your ego.”

My stomach churned. I couldn’t be sure if it was the beer sloshing around in my gut or her off-handed words about Emery. It had been four months since Emery left without a word. A call. A letter. And, despite my new I-could-give-a-fuck attitude, I couldn’t erase her from my brain. Even liquor and girls like Mercy hadn’t helped shake the memory of my best friend. Of the hurt she inflicted by leaving. Of the fact that I’d been used for a safe place until she didn’t need one anymore.

I grabbed Mercy’s cheeks and pulled her mouth down to mine. The kiss was sloppy and in the middle of a living room filled with people, but I didn’t give a fuck. I’d been the nice guy, and I’d been taken advantage of and screwed over. I’d never make that mistake again. I did what I wanted now. To hell with the consequences.

To hell with my reputation.

To hell with everyone.

CHAPTER FIVE

Grady - 21

Present Day

“How much did you lose?” Abbott asked as he hovered over me, spotting me while I bench-pressed two-fifty.

“Since the start of last season,” I said, pushing the bar off my chest. “Seventy pounds and counting.”

“Wow.”

“Protein shakes and the gym, dude. That’s all it takes,” I said, lowering the bar again. “And lots of bedroom action.”

“Your hand gives you that much of a workout?”

“Fuck off,” I growled, struggling now to lift the bar.

He laughed as he steadied it for me.

It was late July and Abbott and I had just returned to campus, both of us offensive linemen who liked to get a jump on the season while waiting for the pre-season to begin.

“Thank God you got rid of that beard, dude,” Abbott said, guiding the bar back onto the rack after my final rep. “I’ve never met someone with such bad facial hair.”

I lay there breathing heavy and pissed that I’d gotten so much slack over a damn beard. “The ladies weren’t complaining when it was between their legs.”

“Dude, I live with you, remember? I haven’t seen any girls warming your bed since Yvette and that was sophomore year.”

“Worry about your own bed, Abbott,” I snapped, hating that I’d let anyone know me as well as him—and my friend Sabrina. She’d be returning soon to chill with me while Crosby Parks, her pro hockey player boyfriend, was off doing pre-season training up north.

Abbott rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You wanna hit up the bar tonight?”

I shrugged. It was weird being back in the weight room without Caden or our star wide receiver Trace Forester around. They’d both been leaders on and off the field for the last three years. But now they’d both been drafted and were off playing professional ball.

Don’t get me wrong. I was a good football player, most days anyway. But I was realistic. And a career in the pros just wasn’t in the cards for me. I loved football, but I knew I wasn’t good enough to be drafted. I’d probably end up a lawyer someday like my uncle.

“What the hell happened to you?” Coach asked as he stepped into the weight room.

Abbott and I exchanged a confused look.

Coach lifted his chin at me. “You’re half the size.”

“I lost some weight,” I said, sitting up and wiping my face with a towel.

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