Page 101 of How to Score Off Field

“Huh.” He’s quiet. “Weird.”

"I promise, Grady," I reply earnestly. "I'll do everything in my power to make things right between us—you and I. Me and her."

"Good," he says. "Because Tess deserves better than someone who makes her feel like crap, and you damn well know it."

"I know," I say, my voice heavy with remorse. "I thought I made her feel good. Shit. I don’t mean that the way it came out, I meant I thought we made each other laugh. She’s funny as hell and a good friend.”

“A good friend,” he deadpans.

“Again, not what I meant.”

Jesus, this guy.

He’s coming at me hard.

Not that I don’t deserve it, but damn, Ilikeher. Why is that a problem?

There's a moment of silence, and I can almost sense the weight of his scrutiny through the phone. "You better. And if you hurt her again, you won't just have to deal with me. You'll have the entire football team on your ass."

I chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation. "Have you already forgotten that you don’t play football anymore?”

“I meant the intramural league I play with on the weekends, smartass.”

“Uh. Aren’t those mostly dads and ex-frat boys?”

“Shut up. I won't hesitate to tackle you harder than any linebacker ever has.”

I can't help but laugh at that mental image. "Deal, Grady. You win. No tackling from you or your dad frat football team; I'll be on my best behavior, and I'll do whatever it takes to win Tess back."

“Not sure if I want you winning my sister over but I would love to have my sister back. She’s making me sad, dude.”

"Understood," I reply with a nod. "Thanks for giving me a chance to make things right, Grady."

"Don't thank me yet," he warns. “I’m dying to pummel your ass.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that like twelve times.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve said that like twelve times, too.”

I’m confused when we hang up.

What the hell is going on, and why isn’t she telling me about it? What could she be crying about? And when was she going to tell me she’s sick?

Sick.

How?

Does she have Covid and didn’t want me to know?

Shit.

Do I need to get tested?

A million things run through my mind, and I can hardly sleep at all when I finally crawl into bed, a conversation I had with Tess flashing through my brain after we’d had sex that night—the first time, not the second.

“I can’t get pregnant.”

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