Page 30 of The Wrong Quarterback

It will be better next semester, I repeated to myself now as I watched my…boyfriend…take another drink.

It’s just that after two years of barely speaking, it felt like we had a lot to catch up on. I’d once felt like I knew everything about Gray. And now the guy wrapped around me felt like a stranger. Waiting another semester to try and fix that—when we were supposed to be togetherright now—didn’t feel like what should be happening.

“Want a drink?” he yelled, offering me his beer. I shook my head, thinking that there was no way he wouldn’t be blacked out by the end of the game. And I didn’t think any of his friends would be any better. I would probably have to make sure he got back to the frat safe, which would be a fun way to start off my freshman football season.

Not.

Suddenly, the crowd got even louder, the noise rattling through my bones as a Jay Z and Linkin Park mashup blared through the speakers. The players charged onto the field, their orange helmets gleaming under the sun.

And there he was.

Parker Davis, led the team out of the tunnel like a king. The stadium lost its mind. His name echoed everywhere, a chant that reverberated off the concrete walls. I tried not to look, I reallydid, but when his face flashed up on the huge screen, I couldn’t stop myself from staring. The camera zoomed in, catching his intense blue eyes, his windblown hair, and the way he carried himself like he knew he was a god among men.

I was mesmerized by how good-looking he was.

I didn’t know anything about football. But watching him run out in front of his team, like a commander riding into battle…the other team had to have been terrified. Was it just me…or was there a spotlight that seemed to follow him as he made his way out on the field?

It wasn’t just the way he moved, though—the smooth, confident stride, like the pressure of all those screaming fans couldn’t touch him—it was everything. His tan skin, the contrast of his white teeth when he flashed a smile, and those eyes. The kind of blue that wasn’t natural, couldn’t be. Like the sky on a clear day, piercing and intense. They were the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.

I remembered what they’d been like in person, up close…and Gray’s arm somehow seemed even heavier.

My breath caught in my throat as the camera zoomed in again. He was tall, towering above most of his teammates, and he was built like he’d been sculpted by someone who hadn’t made the rest of us.

I felt a set of eyes on me, and I glanced over to see Nat watching, a knowing smile on her face, like she could read the lustful thoughts running through my head right then. I wrinkled my nose at her, and she laughed before looking back toward the field.

The crowd around me was still losing it, chants for Parker ringing out from every direction, and I found myself staring…again. The camera zoomed in and out constantly, flashing him up on the big screen every other minute. He grinned at one point, and I felt a little faint all of a sudden, like his smile heldmagical powers or something. It was like the entire stadium was held captive by him, me included.

I tried to tear my eyes away, but my gaze kept slipping back to the screen. And the more I watched him, the heavier the guilt sank in. What was I doing? My boyfriend was right next to me, oblivious as he laughed at something, almost spilling his drink on me in the process.

A few bad thoughts were nothing though, right? As long as you never acted on them…

Wasn’t there a song about that?

“You excited, babe? Your first college football game. This is gonna be wild,” Gray murmured, pulling me in closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath as he kind of made out with my cheek.

I forced a smile, nodding, even though my stomach churned with something else entirely.

The crowd roared louder as Tennessee huddled together, and the cameras showed Parker barking orders to his team. He even looked good when he yelled.

Gray jostled me again, shouting something about how things were about to get crazy. I nodded, not really listening. Parker seemed to glance up at the screen then, those blue eyes flashing as he smirked at the camera, and my stomach did this weird little flip…like that smirk was meant for me.

The players lined up to kickoff, and I decided it was going to be a long game.

And that maybe I should skip them in the future if this was what my reaction was going to be.

But I could at least enjoy it today.

Parker took off down the field, weaving between defenders like they were standing still. The clock was ticking down, the crowd on their feet, the noise a relentless wave crashing through the stadium. My breath caught as he crossed the twenty-yard line, then the ten. And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, he was in the end zone.

Touchdown.

I screamed, my voice lost in the roar of the crowd. Next to me, Nat jumped up and down, gripping my arm so hard it was a miracle she didn’t leave bruises. The energy surged through me, wild and crazy, like I’d stuck my finger in an electrical socket. Gray had ducked out at the end of the third quarter, pale and muttering something about not feeling well, so it had just been me and Nat, glued to every play. Tennessee was already up by two touchdowns before Parker’s run, but the crowd was acting like he’d just won the National Championship.

“Oh my fucking hell, did you see that?” Nat yelled, eyes wide with exhilaration.

I nodded, my heart racing, eyes locked on Parker as he jogged into the end zone, that grin plastered across his face. And then, my jaw dropped as he turned to the crowd and did an Elvis impression, hips moving with that cocky confidence that made half the stadium scream even louder.

Somewhere down by the field, one of the cheerleaders wobbled and then straight-up dropped, like her knees had decided to give out. I laughed, that dizzy, magical feeling flooding my veins again, like he really was casting a spell across the crowd.

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