Page 6 of Fair Catch

“Yeah. I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s in one of them. I thought I put it on the key ring with my car keys, but—” He makes his best attempt at a shrug, but the motion has the top box sliding entirely off the other two it was stacked on.

Of course, on its way to the floor, it happens to slam right into my knee.

“Goddamnit,” I curse, immediately bouncing on my good leg from the throbbing pain in my kneecap. “What the hell was in there?”

It only takes a second for me to realize the impact must’ve caused the box to bust open, the contents spilling all over the entryway for me to see. Medals and small awards, some loose change, and a pile of papers cover the floor, and I am fuckingpissed.

Kason might as well be a deer in headlights when his eyes lift from the mess to meet my death glare.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he rushes out, quickly setting the other two boxes down before one of those falls next.

“Yeah,” is all I say as I limp my way to the couch, careful not to step on all the shit now strewn about. Kason’s already begun gathering all his belongings before I can drop onto the couch, kicking myself for not grabbing some pain meds first.

My annoyance builds as I listen to Kason picking up his crap, the awkward silence stifling.

“On the plus side,” Kason says slowly, drawing my attention back to him. “I found the key. And an ice pack for your knee…minus it being warm. But at least it wasn’t coffee?”

He lifts each of the items in question for me to see, and it takes every ounce of me not to bite his head off. Instead, I force a smile and wonder what kind of hell I’ve signed myself up for. Because if first—and second—impressions are correct, there’s one thing I’m certain of.

This is gonna be a long fucking year.

Two

Kason

“He fucking hates me.”

Mallory, one of Leighton’s cheerleaders, glances up from where she’s lounging across a blanket on the lawn outside of the practice facility. I wasn’t expecting to run into her after my voluntary lifting session, but I could use her listening ear.

“Hello to you too, Kason,” she says, closing the book she was reading. I scan the cover of it, noting it has a shirtless man with some seriously toned abs on the cover, before dropping down on the blanket beside her.

“Sorry, should I have asked if you were enjoying your smut instead?”

A sweet lilt of laughter hits me, and she smacks me playfully with her paperback. “Not sure that’s any better of a greeting, so let’s circle back to your first try. Who isheand why do you think he hates you?”

Rolling to my back, staring up at the bright blue sky, I mutter, “Hayes. My new roommate.” Turning my head, I add. “And I don’t know for a fact that he hates me. It’s just a vibe.”

“A vibe,” she repeats dryly, her brow lifting. “That’s what we’re basing this on?”

“Believe me, if you meet him, you’ll understand. We’re barely forty-eight hours into this living situation, and I feel like I’m constantly walking on a minefield because he’s just so…” I wrack my brain for a kinder way to saydoucheyordickishwithout sounding like one myself. “Standoffish?”

She lets out a soft, airy laugh—the kind that somehow eases some of the discourse rampaging my thoughts. “Well, I certainly doubt that means hehatesyou, Kason. You’re the furthest thing from hateable.”

Pretty sure she has to say that, being one of my closest childhood friends and all.

Rolling my eyes at her clear exaggeration, I murmur, “His vibe says he hates me.”

“He doesn’t even know you.” She shifts to lay down beside me, propping herself up on one elbow. “And believe me, once he has the chance to, there’s no way he doesn’t like you just as much as everyone else does.”

I let out a low hum, doing my best to not be a Debbie Downer about the whole situation. Which is difficult, considering I made an idiot out of myself within the first minute of arriving at the apartment a couple days ago.

“Unless he doesn’t want to,” I remind her, that unsettled feeling still sitting on my chest.

“Well, you could be right, but you’ll never know if you don’t try making nice with him first.”

Scoffing, I ask, “Why do I have to be the one to be nice?”

Her brows draw together and she purses her lips in thought. “I suppose you don’thave to,though that’d be my recommendation. Your other option is to make due ‘til graduation by hiding out in your bedroom or the library.”

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