Page 137 of Fair Catch

Glancing over at Holden, I see he’s still got well over half a beer, and he waves me off as I’m about to ask if he wants something different. With that, I head up and grab a beer from the fridge, needing something in my hands to keep myself from fidgeting; and maybe to take the edge off a little bit.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

I glance up from the fridge to find Phoenix walking into the kitchen. He reaches over the door, grabbing a beer for himself too, before I let it fall closed.

“I can’t imagine why it took you so long. It’s not like there’s anyone here,” I muse, motioning toward the plethora of people in the living room, which may or may not be more chaotic than those downstairs.

“I know, right? I can’t believe no one showed.” There’s a playful smirk on his lips when he pops the cap on his bottle. “Guess you aren’t as cool as you thought you were, Fuller.”

A soft snort slips out, and I can’t help shaking my head. “Thanks for this, man. Seriously.”

“The football team throws the party, not me.”

I roll my eyes. “As much as the team would love to take credit—and they probably will—I know better. You played a big hand in this.”

From the little shrug he gives, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. And it only solidifies how good it feels to have my best friend back, especially on a night like this.

His eyes lock with mine, and he cocks his head. “Real talk, you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m good.”

“You forget I’ve known you longer than just about anyone? I know when you’re lying.” Arching a brow, he asks, “Is it just nerves?”

Tossing my head back and forth, I do my best to figure out how to answer that. Nervous isn’t the right word exactly.

“I’m just ready to know, you know? I’ll be fine either way, but it’s not knowing which direction my life is about to take that’s got my stomach in knots.”

“Well, the good thing is, there’s still time. It’s only the second round, and you know as well as I do, tight ends usually don’t go in the first couple. The fact that Marcus went already is wild to me.”

I nod, though I don’t have much more to say about it. And since he’s Phoenix and can’t help himself when it comes to cheering me up, he offers me a wry smile.

“C’mon, let’s head downstairs. New England is picking next, right? We’ve gotta see if you’re gonna be a Boston man.”

As it turns out, I’m not meant to be a Boston man.

Or New York. Or Philadelphia. Or Denver, Cleveland, or Chicago, either. And as picks keep happening and we near the halfway point of the third round, my hope has long since dwindled into nothing but a sad pile of dogshit at my feet.

The guys must be picking up on my mood too, the party down here taking a more sober turn despite the copious amount of alcohol present—and the ones who are looking to still party move themselves upstairs instead.

Unfortunately, Noah and Luca aren’t two of them.

“You good? Need anything?” Luca asks, dropping back onto the couch after grabbing himself another drink.

“I just asked him that like five minutes ago,” Noah tells him, a look of annoyance on his face. “He said no.”

I shake my head anyway before looking at Luca, who is currently shooting Noah a death glare. “I’m good, thanks man.”

Luca shrugs with indifference before turning to converse with Holden, who seems to be the only one as sober as me, surprisingly. Of course, pretty much everyone else has been drinking since well before I got here, so it’s not hard to beat.

I decided early on, if things go the way I want, I’ll want to remember the moment and celebrate afterward. Which means limiting my alcohol intake. And if it doesn’t go that way…well, there’s always the option to drown my sorrows into oblivion as well.

Even Phoe has loosened up a bit more than usual, tossing back a few drinks since this whole thing started.

Then again, he may be just as nervous about this as I am.

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re good, because I can read your face better than a children’s book, but is there anything I can do?”

I release a long-winded sigh. “Not unless you can speed up time between these rounds.”

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