Page 55 of How to Score Off Field

How did I not know this?

And.

Would it have mattered if I had?

Probably not when she was younger. I wasn’t interested in dating as a kid, certainly not when our dad was alive—he would never have allowed it. We didn’t even go to prom or homecoming—not with girls, anyway. Drake had gone with a girl, but she was just a friend.

Our father never would have allowed us to be serious with anyone. In fact, none of us dated anyone until after he’d died. How fucking sad is that? It took him having a heart attack and dying for us to have personal lives and to fall in love.

Well. Not me.

But my brothers.

“You know how it is when you’re young.”

“No, I don’t know how it is when you’re young,” I find myself saying even though as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s the wrong thing to say.

Tess struggles to explain herself—not that she has to. “We don’t know any better.”

My brows go up into my hairline.

“That’s not what I meant.” She laughs. “But it’s rough on someone’s self-esteem when you’re young and the person you have a crush on doesn’t know you’re alive.”

“You…you’re Grady’s sister.”

I sound like an idiot.

I am well aware of this fact.

I feel like that is enough of an explanation. At least in my brain, it makes sense.

“I’m more than just Grady’s sister,” she says quietly. “I’m your friend, too.”

She’s right, of course, but that didn’t stop me from having a one-track mind for all these years. I don’t think a single dude in our friend group ever looked at Tess Donahue in a romantic way, not even this weekend when she had her tits out and was wearing a sexy dress at the bachelorette party. And if they were thinking it, no one said a word.

“You are my friend, too,” I repeat dumbly.

The pillow is suddenly gone, and her hand is in the center of the bed, tracing one of the embroidered flowers on the comforter, the pink nail of her index finger going round and round.

She reaches forward and takes the book back, sliding it across the bedspread, pressing her hand into the pages to hold it open before reading out loud.

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

“Can’t remember,” I answer robotically and honestly because I literally cannot remember.

She frowns. “What do you mean you can’t remember?”

“I mean—it’s been a while.” I adjust myself on the bed uncomfortably; her eyes go to my rock-hard abs. “You can’t be asking me all those personal questions without answering them yourself, Little Miss Nosy.”

“Sure I can.”

As she teases me, the fluttering butterflies in the pit of my stomach make me slightly ill.

“Uh, no, you can’t.”

Tess considers the question. “I’ve only done it a few times, and the last time I dated anyone was...” She squints at the ceiling. “Maybe six months ago, and he was a douchey frat guy, remember.”

CHAPTER21

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