Page 84 of The Trade

“Oh my God, did you see Conor out there?” a female voice practically squeals in excitement.

“Are you kidding? He looks so fucking good,” says her friend. “It’s a shame he’s not even playing tonight.”

“Yeah, but you know whoisplaying?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re eyeing West again,” the first voice cautions. “He’s bad news, Cass.”

My back stiffens involuntarily, a knot of unease growing in my stomach. Still, I remain silent, frozen in place while they carry on.

“He may be bad news,” Cassidy’s voice flows confidently, “but he’s got some other skills that make it all worthwhile.”

A pang of jealousy courses through me, sharpening my senses.

“Yeah, yeah,” the first girl dismisses her with a knowing chuckle. “West is great in bed, but he’ll also eat your heart out.”

Cassidy’s giggle grates on my nerves. “Who says I have a heart?”

“You know he’s seeing someone else now, right?” a third voice chimes in, one I’m fairly certain belongs to Shannon’s friend, Emmy, the sweet girl who warned me off Miller.

Heartened by her effort to stand up for me, I quickly zip up my shorts and emerge from the stall. I join them at the sink without a word, moving beside her to wash my hands.

As I glance up, Emmy’s surprised reflection meets my gaze in the mirror.

“Cassidy,” she softly chides, her gaze darting between me and her teammates. She looks almost apologetic, an uncomfortable tension settling on her features.

“What’s the—?” Cassidy starts, but her friend cuts her off.

“Jade, hi,” Emmy greets, attempting to defuse the situation with a small smile. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks,” I say, returning her greeting with a forced half-smile of my own.

The third girl makes a small choking noise, her eyes darting back and forth between us. Cassidy’s glance follows and then lands squarely on me, blatantly sizing me up. There’s an awkward pause, but she doesn’t immediately backpedal or apologize. Instead, she raises a brow, a smug grin stretching across her face.

“Hey, Jade. Didn’t realize you were here.” Her voice resonates within the small room, laced with feigned innocence that only amps up my irritation.

Emmy intervenes before I have the chance to respond, her tone soft yet firm. “Cass, we should probably get back to the team.”

Ignoring her, Cassidy continues. “You still have your little thing going on with West, don’t you? Isn’t he just a beast on the field?”

Something inside me snaps at her tone. I’d let her comments slide earlier, but now, I can’t hold my tongue any longer. “Yes, he’s myboyfriend,” I correct, meeting her gaze dead-on. “And he’s incredible both on and off the field.”

The bathroom descends into an uncomfortable silence, Cassidy’s smirk faltering. The third friend looks at her shoes. Emmy, bless her heart, sends me an apologetic glance, to which I respond with a small, appreciative nod.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I say, wiping my hands on a paper towel. “I’d rather not keep my friends waiting.”

With that, I make a hasty exit, leaving them behind in the restroom. The whole encounter wasn’t pleasant, but I’m proud of how I stood up for myself.

By the time I make it back to my seat, I’ve successfully managed to squash all the weird feelings they just stirred up. West is mine, and I’m his. And he’s certainly not gonna “eat my heart out,” as the girls would say.

Barely suppressing a grin, my gaze finds its way back to the game. Maybe it’s my bias, but I can’t tear my eyes away from West. His power as a running back is something to behold, his ability to weave through the defense and run the ball a testament to his talent.

And it’s his claim on the field that serves as our ticket to shattering Coastal’s defense.

With only nine minutes remaining in the game, Dayton secures the ball. They proceed to run it on all fifteen plays, which sets up our senior kicker for an easy field goal to close us off.

It’s a 27-21 victory for Dayton, and the sounds of the crowd are ear-splitting.

As the student section rushes the field, I shove past the endless crowds of people until I make it all the way to my new favorite player. When I finally reach him, West’s a vision of victory—sweat streaking down his face, black smudges marking his cheekbones.

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