Page 44 of Fair Catch

Once settled in beside him, my eyes scan the field and sidelines in search of Kason. He said he’s number eighty-seven,but I don’t find him in my silent search. And all the while I’m looking, I can feel the guy’s blatant stare on the side of my face. Almost like a white hot brand.

I do my best to ignore it, not wanting to chit-chat my way through my first football game. No amount of reading I did on it over the past week prepared me for actually sitting here trying to make sense of what’s happening down on the field.

Are we on offense or defense right now?

“I haven’t seen you at a game before,” my seat neighbor finally says, breaking the silence.

Great, a regular footballer.

“First time,” is all I say in response.

“You must be a freshman then,” he supplies, clearly wanting to be a regular chatty Cathy.

Slightly perturbed by the assumption, I correct him. “I’m a senior, actually. Just haven’t made it out to a game before now.”

I shift my attention to him in time to catch his nod as he studies me. There’s something in his gaze that is a bit unsettling, like he’s making a mental assessment. It’s only for the briefest moment before he arches a brow. “Not a football guy?”

I’m not a sports guy, if we’re being honest. But what I lack in knowledge about athletics I tend to make up for in moral support for the people I actually give a fuck about—which Kason has apparently become—and that’s gotta count for something.

“I don’t know the next thing about football. Other than the Google research I did before coming today.”

His lips pull up. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, I’ve watched enough football to know what’s happening, but I’m more of a baseball guy myself.”

“Hockey for me,” I reply before tossing my head back and forth a bit, rethinking my statement. “I mean, if I had to pick one.”

The guy laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, you’re best friends with Quinton de Haas. I shouldn’t be surprised that’s where your loyalties lie.”

My brows crash together instantly, and I get that weird feeling I always get when someone knows who I am when I don’t know them—thanks, trauma.

“How do you know Quinton and I are friends?”

That earns me another grin, which only serves to confuse me more. “I think that’s my cue to introduce myself.” He holds out his hand between us. “I’m Phoenix.”

“Hayes,” I say slowly as I take his palm in mine. “But I guess you already knew that.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to officially meet you.” He releases me first because I’m still too stunned to do much more than stare at him. “And I guess I should take this opportunity to say thank you for taking Kason in as your roommate this year.”

Just like that, the pieces collide at hyperspeed.

“Wait, you’re Kason’s best friend, Phoenix. The friend of a friend Quinton mentioned when he pitched me the roommate idea.”

“Ahh,” he says, letting out an awkward sort of laugh and wincing at my assessment—one more pained than uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s me. Though I don’t know if the best friend part still rings true, but I was at one point.”

A stagnant silence fills the air, neither of us really sure what to say next. How do you follow up a comment like that? I’m not a people person on my best days, and if it were anyone else, I’d let the conversation die there. Be done with it, ignore him for the rest of the game unless he talked to me first.

But he’s someone important to Kason.

Someone who has lived with him, knows him like the back of his hand, who clearly cares about him. Making some semblance of an effort is the least I can do.

“Was he as much of a pain in the ass to live with when you two were roommates?” I ask, looking for a safe, mutual topic.

Phoenix aims a knowing smile my way. “Has he woken you up with the blender yet?”

“Oh, my God, yes.” I laugh—a real, genuine laugh—and shake my head. “I think I was ready to toss that thing at the wall the first time it happened. And by the third, I ordered soundproofing for my entire bedroom.”

“Do yourself a favor and get some earplugs too. Double up on the noise canceling.”

“Already ahead of you,” I tell him. “We made ano blenders during quiet hoursrule.”

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