“You don’t like extra protein?” I can’t stop my eyes from closing when the thick, cool liquid hits my lips.

“My roommates consume protein powder like it’s a dietary staple, so I’m good.”

“Protein is a dietary staple.”

He huffs out a little laugh. “Protein, yeah.Protein powderis…” He wrinkles his nose. “Not food.”

“Agree to disagree.” I lift my shoulder and take another sip.

“Spoken like a true athlete.” The guy sighs like he’s frustrated, though the amused smile he’s wearing suggests he isn’t.

“Is that bad?”

“No, not at all. Just something you have in common with my roommates.”

“They’re athletes?”

“Football players.”

“No shit. Me, too!”

The guy frowns as he reaches for the next cup the barista sets on the counter. “You don’t look familiar.”

“I just transferred here. From Utah. Tomorrow is my first practice.”

“Oh cool. I’m Aiden.” He sticks his hand out.

“Damien.” I wrap my fingers around his and give them a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Aiden’s eyes drift toward the window, and the stadium in the distance.

“Too early to say. I haven’t started classes or practice, and you’re the first person I’ve met.”

“Seriously?” His brows jump beneath the dark blond hair styled to hang over his forehead. “Well, got any plans for the rest of the afternoon? I could introduce you to some of your teammates. Fifty bucks says they’re all sitting around the TV playing Madden.”

“I feel like that’s a bet I’d lose, but if the offer to come over still stands, that’d be cool.”

“Yeah, come on.” Aiden grabs a few napkins and leads us outside, seeming to shiver slightly as we step into the cool January air. Cool is relative though, since the bright sun and the altitude combine to make fifty feel surprisingly pleasant.

As we walk to his place, Aiden points out some of the different buildings, like the math and business centers, and the frat house he used to live in until a room in his current place opened up.

It’s pleasant. And though small talk usually isn’t my thing, I end up finding myself spilling all the details of why I’m here. Specifically, howthe Bighorns are a better program that will increase my visibility for the draft next year.

Ten minutes later, we walk up a stone path, leading to an older, colonial-style house with a small rectangular porch. It’s pretty simple, clearly a student home. The only decoration is a weathered loveseat.

Aiden swings open the brick red door and a voice carries through the opening. A voice that quiet literally has my heart screeching to a halt.

“Thank God! These four saps are too busy feeling each other up to play and I’m tired of going against the computer.”

No… It can’t be. What are the odds?

“You know I suck at Madden,” Aiden hollers back.

“That’s why I like playing you.”

“No thanks. But I met one of your new teammates at the library, and I bet he’d be up for a game.” Aiden hangs up his coat and steps out of the foyer, and I do the same.

The second the living room comes into view, the house seems to close in on itself, narrowing to a tunnel with a lone figure sitting at the other end.