Page 7 of The Backup

“Oh, hey…you,” I say, smiling despite myself.

“Hey…you,” he echoes. “Need a beer?”

He slips behind the makeshift bar, pulling out a couple of Bud Lights, handing them to Jacklyn and me.

“I thought you guys were on probation,” Jacklyn says, arching an eyebrow.

He laughs, cracking his drink open. “We’re always on probation. And always drinking.”

“You don’t worry about drinking before game days?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Practice is the hard part for me. Since I’m the backup, I study whoever we’re playing and simulate their quarterback so our defense can prep all week. Saturdays? That’s my easy day. Can’t say the same for our starter.”

His eyes flick toward Joe, who’s now leaning into that same girl, laughing at something she said. My stomach tightens.

“How’s Joe looking this year?” I ask, testing the waters.

Asher gives me a dry look. “No idea. I don’t give a shit about him.”

“Oh? Aren’t you in the same frat?”

He leans forward, voice lowering. “Here’s the thing: just because we’re in the same frat doesn’t mean I have to like him. And in Joe’s case, I think he’s a POS.”

“Oh?”

“Not getting into details. I don’t like to talk shit.”

“Is he dating anyone?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“I couldn’t care less. I don’t keep track of his flavor of the weeks.”

Flavor of the week?

“He doesn’t…you know, have a girlfriend?” I pry.

Asher leans back, eyeing me carefully. “Look, I don’t know why you’re grilling me about him. I like studying and having the occasional beer, not gossip.”

“Yeah!” Joe’s voice cuts through the noise as he sinks the last cup. He raises his arms in victory. “That’s what I do! I fucking win!”

He hugs the girl next to him, then notices me watching. Grabbing his drink, he strolls over.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?”

Asher’s gaze flicks between us, his face unreadable as Joe plants a quick kiss on my cheek.

“We just won, so we’re up for the next two games,” Joe says, grinning. “What are you up to tonight?”

My cheeks flush with anger, heat rising to my throat. Jacklyn nudges me, giving me a pointed look that saysjust break up with him now.

“I, uh…I just came to hang out with you,” I manage, my voice carefully controlled.

“Ah, yeah. That’s great,” he says, nodding as if I’m an afterthought. “Look, I want to hang out too…maybe in a couple of hours? After we finish these games?”

In a couple of hours?

The words are calm when they leave my mouth. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever you want.”

“Great!” He winks, completely oblivious. “I’ll see you later.”

---