Page 29 of A Quarterback for Christmas

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just so angry at the world. Did Jimmy really break your heart that badly?”

I puff out a breath. “No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? I remember how upset you were at the end of prom when a couple of his online dates showed up.”

I roll my eyes and crunch my fingers together. “Why do you always have to remind me of prom? Is it not enough that you taunted me on the day? It’s like you have to bring it up hourly just to remind me how inferior I am to you.”

“You thought I was taunting you at prom?”

“Everyone was taunting me, Drew.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh, please. No one would have known if you hadn’t followed me outside with Jimmy.”

“I followed you outside because I could tell you were upset, and I wanted to help.”

“You wanted to help?” I hold back a laugh. He can’t be serious. “You’ve never wanted to help me in my life.”

“Listen to yourself, Bella. Listen to what you’re saying whileIcook you breakfast inmyhouse after saving you from near death.”

I swallow, knowing I need to say thank you, but still stubbornly holding my tongue. I’m always on edge with Drew, just waiting for his next retort.

“I came outside at prom because when I saw you were upset, I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to settle for a guy like Jimmy.” He runs his tongue across his teeth. “I didn’t realize that people were following me or that Jimmy had several dates waiting for him outside. Believe me, I wanted to throttle the guy when I realized what he’d done. No girl deserves to be treated like they are second best, especially you.” His words and demeanor are calm, but they make me want to wither away and melt because that’s a completely different version of events than I remember.

“So, you didn’t bring everyone out there to laugh at me?”

“I might be an ass, but never to you, B.” He stares at me as though I should be able to read between the lines. “In fact, I made sure Jimmy found out rather quickly just how badly he screwed up.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air, but I’m still digesting his first confession. He didn’t try to embarrass me at prom. He was following me out. But why? I feel his hot gaze on me as he watches me digest his words, and I gulp, not liking what I’m starting to piece together. Blowing out a breath, I try to refocus the conversation away from the worst night of my life. “Do you really think this good guy act will make me forget about our game?” I point down to the setup board. “I’m ready to take all your money.”

“Fine, B,” he laments, and I silently sigh in relief that he’s willing to drop the subject. “Just let me finish your omelet, then I’ll let you whoop my ass.”

“I can’t believe it.” I stare at the board game, wondering where all my money went while Drew counts his, flaunting the colorful paper in my face. “How did this happen?”

“I believe it happened when you sold me The Stumble Inn Tavern and expected some kind of long-term rental agreement after purchase.” Rolling my eyes, I look at my few menial dollars, knowing no amount of passing GO will fix this. “From then on, you were too focused on the money you didn’t have, rather than collecting properties outside of Frat Row.”

He has a point. My attentionwasoff kilter because I wasn’t focusing on the game. I was too busy concentrating on him. We were having such a good time, talking about mutual friends and the good old days in high school that I forgot my strategy and lost.

Hang on a minute: was that Drew’s strategy all along? Soften me up, so I don’t notice when he takes me down.

Narrowing my eyes, I stare at his large hands, palming the money. “Don’t get smart with me, McCallister. You cheated. That’s the only explanation.”

He laughs, adjusting the bill of his hat. “I don’t need to cheat to be a winner, babe.” I suck in a breath, annoyed that the way he says babe doesn’t annoy me as much as I know it should. He twists the silver football token in his hand, not caring where it’s supposed to be on the board because we both know he’s won at this point. “But who knows, maybe it’s the silver cleat bringing me luck.”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to use the car?”

He drops the shoe, leans back, and looks a little despondent. “Nah, that’s not the reason. I just don’t like anyone using it.”

“Okay,” I drawl out and throw my two bucks on the board with a long, exaggerated stretch. “I think we’ve played enough for tonight. We should probably call it quits.”

“Sure. I assume it’s because we’ve been playing for over three hours that you want to quit, not because you're going to lose on your next dice roll?”

“Nothing to do with that. This version is ridiculous anyway. Who’s going to pay two hundred bucks to attend a football game?” I flick at the corner with the stadium on it.

“Plenty of people, trust me.”

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