Page 96 of The Off-Limits Play

“Look, I get it, okay? You’ve always been a protective father. And coach. You care about us, and that’s a good thing.” I swallow, scrambling for the right words. “But I really enjoyed hanging out at Football Frat last night and this morning. They’re nice, and… I can imagine becoming friends with these people. I’m sorry if they aren’t the friends you want me to have, but I’ve been shut away for so long, and I’m having to start all over again. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Slowing to turn the next corner, Dad shoots me a sad smile. “Things with your roommate tough, huh?”

“No, just…” I shrug. “Not flowing like I thought they might. We had a good time about a week ago, but then this week she’s been kind of quiet and distant again. She’s certainly no Hayley.”

He nods. “Sorry it’s not the smooth sailing you wanted it to be.”

“No one ever promised an easy ride.” I shrug. “But I know that if I quit and move back home with you guys, I’ll regret it. I have to find my way, Dad. I have to get my life back.”

Pulling into the driveway, Dad cuts the engine and gives me a long, soft look. Reaching for my hand, he lightly squeezes it and murmurs, “You will, kiddo. If anyone can, it’s you.”

I smile at him, glad the tension has dissipated for now. I guess all I can hope is that he’ll warm to the idea of me being friends with some of his players… and then one day, when he finds out about me and Carson, the meltdown won’t be quite as severe.

CHAPTER34

CARSON

Nylah finally texted me when she got back to her dorm.

It took ages, and I was out of my fucking mind when I finally heard from her.

After a long soak in the tub, her leg is feeling better. She’s still gonna be on painkillers and will need to use her cane for the week, which I know she hates. I’m guessing she doesn’t want the attention, and I’d do anything to shield her from it.

I searched for her all day today, but I didn’t see her once.

The weather has been shit, and I wonder if she stayed indoors to avoid the rain.

Fuck, when she told me about being trapped in that car for hours, thinking she was gonna die… I felt that shit right in my chest. First, it was this ball of rage that she had to suffer that way, and then this dull, aching pain followed. It must have been so terrifying for her. I can picture her, alone and scared in the dark, a storm thundering above her while she lay there in pain.

Fuck! It’s doing my head in, making it hard to concentrate.

I want to go back in time and protect her from that shit.

I hate that I can’t.

I hate that she’s stuck with a bum leg for the rest of her life because of taking a corner too fast. Less than a minute of her life… and she’ll never be the same again.

Running down the field, I avoid a tackle, jumping away from the opposing player and pivoting left so I’m perfectly positioned for Zander’s throw.

The rain is sprinkling on our practice. It’s not too heavy yet, but I can sense another stormy night. Fuck, I hope Nylah’s okay.

Blinking the drops from my eyes, I follow the arc of the ball, grabbing that slippery little sucker and pinning it to my chest as I dodge right, then jump away from another defender. I’m three steps from the end zone when I get blindsided, knocked straight off my damn feet by a missile that’s?—

Fuck, it’s Fleischer.

I growl, shoving him off me and hating that Coach put us together for this practice. We’re ending the session with some gameplay, and of course Fleischer’s out to prove that one Saturday night brawl doesn’t make him a bad player. He’s trying to earn his way back into Coach’s good graces while making me look like I deserve to be on a Most Wanted poster.

“Get the fuck away from me.” I push him again so I’ve got room to get back to my feet.

The rain intensifies as I flick Grady’s hand away and get up on my own.

“Okay, that was good!” Coach walks over, clapping and shouting through the rain. “Fleischer, nice tackle. Monty, you should have had Carson’s back then.”

“Sorry, Coach. Fly was too fast for me.”

“No worries, you did your best. Carson, you need to get that sixth sense of yours working.”

“Maybe the rain is dulling it.” Fleischer laughs, and I want to take my helmet off and smash him over the head with it.

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