Page 9 of The Wrong Quarterback

“It’s ’cause we’re awesome, Coach,” Jace called as we lined up again.

And so practice went.

This was my third year as the starting quarterback for the Tennessee Tigers, and these crazy, out of control idiots around me had become my brothers. Each of these guys would do anything for each other and for me.

We were also the best fucking team in the NCAA.

Coach Everett blew his whistle, the sharp sound cutting through the shit talk on the field. “Alright, bring it in!” he called, motioning for us to gather.

I jogged over with the rest of the team, everyone forming a tight huddle around him. Sweat dripped down, breaths came heavy, but the energy was high. We could feel it. This was our year.

“Good job today, boys. Evenyou, Thatcher,” Coach Everett said, eliciting his usual laugh. Jace rolled his eyes, and Coach grinned. He put his hand out, and we all followed, a sea of hands stacking on top of each other.

“Call it, QB,” Coach called.

“On three—one, two, three—TENNESSEE!”

The cheer echoed, settling into my veins as it usually did as we walked off the field toward the locker room.

“Hi, Parker,” McKenzie called as we passed by where the cheerleaders had been practicing in the field next to ours.

I pretended not to hear her or the three other girls that also called out our names. I kept my eyes firmly focused in the distance because all of them were the kind of crazy I was not looking for. My dick had once liked cheerleaders, but it had been quickly cured of that.

Jace and Matty had no such issues, waving at their own fans on the team like we were in a fucking parade.

“I think you hurt the poor girl’s feelings.” Matty smirked once we finally got past the field.

I scoffed, giving him the side-eye. “Can I remind you that she was so desperate to have my babies she tried to put my old cum, that had been sitting in the condom for hours…inside of her—while I wassleeping.”

“So a hot girl tries to have your babies, Davis, cry me a river,” said Matty.

I gaped at him.

“No harm, no foul, though, Parkie. All because you listened to me,” said Jace, starting to whistle as if it was no big deal that I’d been woken up by McKenzie screaming because her cunt was on fire—thanks to the hot sauce I made sure to pour into every used condom for that reason alone.

Jace had read about some celebrity doing it when we were freshman. We’d started trying it, as a joke, never thinking it would come in handy.

The relief that I felt as she ran out of the room screaming could not be matched.

“Why are all the crazy ones hot?” Matty muttered, making fun of me as his own personal stalker waved at him from the parking lot.

“Why don’t you go over there, Matty? Since crazy, hot girls are no big deal and all,” I teased.

He flipped me off and jogged off in front of us as his little stalker girl, still nameless to us somehow, stared after him despondently.

“One day one of them is going to crack,” Jace muttered as he gave a friendly wave to her. She ducked behind a car, and I snorted because I was pretty sure she still didn’t know that we’d noticed her here every day, watching Matty like her life depended on it.

“What the fuck was Cole wearing last night?” Steadman, one of my linebackers, said as we walked into the locker room. He was grinning like a loon as he held up his phone.

And I immediately got why. I gaped at the picture he was showing me.

There was my rockstar brother, Cole, standing on the red carpet, a smug look on his face. He was shirtless, wearing a leather jacket and about twenty necklaces—because apparently that’s what rockstars wore.

But that wasn’t what everyone in the locker room was cackling about.

It was the fact that his hat, tilted low, had what looked like an owl perched on the brim.

What the fuck.

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