Page 22 of The Wrong Quarterback

As Gray unwrapped himself from around me and took my hand, I couldn’t help but look back over my shoulder as he led me down the hallway.

I almost tripped when I saw that Parker was paused in the doorway, once again watching me.

And suddenly…“bye” felt like the biggest lie I’d ever told.

CHAPTER 5

CASEY

Gray’s hand was warm around mine, our fingers laced tight as we walked toward the dining hall. The sun cast everything in a golden light that made the campus look like a picture out of a brochure.

It was hard for me to focus on the view, though. My thoughts kept bouncing from Parker Davis to the fact that Gray’s hand was currently tangled around mine.

There was a dissonance in the air between us. I could feel it buzzing beneath the surface.

“So,” Gray said after what seemed like forever, his voice casual but forced. “How do you know Parker?”

The question caught me off guard. I glanced at him, his eyes fixed on the path ahead, jaw tight. He wasn’t looking at me, but the way he said it—sharp, edged with something I couldn’t quite name—it almost sounded like he was…jealous.

“I don’t,” I said slowly. “He’s just…my TA.”

Gray snorted. “So why was yourTAtalking to you in the hallway like that on the first day of class?”

I licked my lips, trying to figure out what to say, because I was as confused as Gray was about what had just happened with Parker back there.

“I’m not sure. Introducing himself, I guess,” I finally murmured.

He let out a dry laugh, and I glanced up at his face. He looked anything but amused at the moment. “Right,” he muttered. “Justintroducinghimself.”

“Are you mad at me?” I asked hesitantly, stopping in my tracks and pulling on my hand so he would let me go.

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled me back to him, cradling my hand in both of his as his gaze searched my face. “Casey, Parker Davis runs through girls like they’renothing. He’s left thousands of miserable women around campus, with no one to pick up the pieces.”

Thousands. The word hit me, the significance of them sitting heavy in my chest. I mean, of course a god like that could have absolutelyanyonethat he wanted. But for some reason ithurtto think about. I tried to keep my face blank, though, like I didn’t care at all about what he was saying—because why should I?

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t know him, Gray. He was probably just being nice. I knocked my chair over and made a big scene at the start of class—I’m sure he felt sorry for me,” I told him, trying not to remember how Parker’s gaze had seemed to caress my skin. And how sparks had spun down my spine at the sound of his voice.

Gray exhaled, the tension in his posture breaking just enough for me to see it. “Because, Case,” he said, his voice softer now, “you’re…you’re beautiful. Guys are going to want you. You stand out in every crowd. It’s impossiblenotto want you.”

My pulse jumped, and I swallowed hard, the unexpected words settling somewhere between my ribs, warm and confusing. “You think I’m beautiful?” I whispered, my cheeks flushing.

A memory rushed back, as vivid as if I were standing in that sun-soaked backyard all over again. I was maybe eight, trailingbehind Ben and Gray with that relentless determination only a little sister could muster. They’d been trying to build something—a rickety tree fort or some kind of “boys only” club. I hadn’t cared what it was, I just wanted to be part of it, to bask in their laughter and feel like I belonged.

“Casey, stop following us!” Ben’s voice had been exasperated, more bark than bite, but I’d ignored him, trudging along, my ponytail bouncing as I struggled to keep up with their longer strides. Gray had glanced back, a grin on his face that always seemed to sayI’m glad you’re here.

“Come on, Ben, let her stay,” Gray had said, throwing me a wink. He’d always been the patient one, the one who never made me feel like I was just the annoying kid sister tagging along.

And then my foot had caught on a stray root, and I went down hard, the sting of the fall spreading across my knee, followed by the slow, hot trickle of blood. Tears pricked my eyes, but before I could even let out a cry, Gray was there, dropping to his knees beside me.

“You okay, Case?” His voice had been soft, calm, a balm in itself. He didn’t wait for me to answer, gently brushing dirt off my scraped knee and pulling a crumpled bandana from his back pocket. The fabric was warm from being pressed against him, and I watched, wide-eyed, as he tied it around my knee with careful fingers, like I was something fragile.

“There,” he’d said, giving me that smile that made everything hurt a little less. “Good as new. Ready to get back at it?”

I’d nodded, sniffling but feeling brave again, like that simple act had mended more than just my skin—it had sealed something in me, too. Gray’s eyes, bright with that easy warmth, had lingered a moment longer, and then he’d stood up, offering me a hand to pull me to my feet.

I’d been in love with him from that moment on.

The memory dissolved as quickly as it came, leaving me standing there with the echo of a million memories, of the way his presence had always meant safety. Gray wasn’t just some boy in my past. He was a part of me in a way that felt carved into my bones.

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