Page 44 of The Goal

Logan: ALINIMB

Dean: ??

Me: ??

Garrett: At Least It’s Not In My Butt.

I snort to myself, because I’m starting to piece it together.

Logan: Nice, G! You got that on the first try!

Garrett: We spend too much time together.

Me: PLEASE tell me you caught D playing with dildos.

Logan: Sure did.

Dean is quick to object again.

I HAD A GIRL OVER!

The guys and I rag on him for a couple more minutes, but I have to stop when Fitzy stumbles into the bathroom and shoves me aside. He’s got crazy bedhead and he’s buck-naked.

“Gotta piss,” he mumbles.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” I say cheerfully. “Want me to make you some coffee?”

“God. Yes. Please.”

Chuckling, I duck out of the bathroom and walk the four or so steps into his kitchenette. When he finally emerges, I shove a cup of coffee in his hand, sip my own, and say, “Dean shoved a dildo up his ass last night.”

Fitzy nods. “Makes sense.”

I snicker mid-sip. Coffee spills over the rim of my cup. “It really does, huh?”

He gives another nod and chugs the rest of his coffee. I’m already dressed and ready to go, so I leisurely finish my drink while Fitzy dashes around the apartment in search of some clothes.

Five minutes later, we step outside into the early morning chill and head off to our respective cars. Luckily I’ve got my gear in the back, so I don’t have to stop at the house first. And although it’s stupid as fuck, Fitz and I race to campus like a bunch of speed demons. He wins, because my truck is old and slower than molasses.

We make it to the arena with ten minutes to spare, which is good because my phone chooses that moment to ring. My pulse quickens at the thought that it might be Sabrina.

It’s not. I’m slightly disappointed when I see Mom’s number and then feel bad about it because I love my mom.

“I’ll see you in there,” I call out to Fitzy, who’s hopping out of his car. He nods and ambles off, while I answer the call. “Hey, Mom. Practice is about to start, so I don’t have a lotta time.”

“Aw, I won’t keep you then. I was just calling to check in and say hi.”

Her familiar voice causes something inside of me to soften. I swear, Mom always has that effect on me. I could be tense as shit, and one word from her loosens all my muscles. I guess I’m a mama’s boy, but it’s not like I could be anything else, seeing as how I don’t have a dad.

“You’re up early,” I remark. It’s only five o’clock in Texas, which is early even for her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admits. “I’m styling an entire bridal party this morning. I’m nervous.”

“Ah, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’re the hair whisperer, remember?”

Mom laughs. “That I am. But makeup, not so much. Those courses I took last summer helped, but jeez, kiddo, I’m freaking out here! How could I ever live with myself if I was the woman who ruined a bride’s big day by painting her face like a clown!”

“You’ll do fine,” I assure her. “I guarantee it.”

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