Page 75 of Red Zone

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Carter Hayes: and the thighs

Carter Hayes: and the attitude

Carter Hayes: but mostly the attitude

Carter Hayes: arguing with you is basically foreplay

Are you done?

Carter Hayes: not even close, but I’ll stop before I start writing poetry about your eyes or some weird sappy shit.

I stare at the screen, biting back a grin that feels too easy after the day I’ve had.

Thanks again. For earlier.

Carter Hayes: don’t thank me

Carter Hayes: just let me be your go-to closet guy from now on

Closet guy? That’s the title you’re going with?

Carter Hayes: better than side piece

Carter Hayes: or emotionally available QB1

Carter Hayes: fine. new title: emotional support hottie

You’re ridiculous.

Carter Hayes: but I made you smile

Carter Hayes: and I’d do it again

Carter Hayes: dream of me

I roll my eyes, cheeks warm, and type one last message.

Only if you behave in them.

Goodnight, Hayes.

Carter Hayes: no promises. Night, Princess.

21

CARTER

The clang of weights hitting the rack echoes through the weight room.

It’s early, too early for a campus on holiday week autopilot, but Jaxon and I are already three sets in—because apparently, rest days are for the weak and not the NFL-bound.

Jaxon adjusts his grip on the bar, exhaling slowly as he lowers it into a bench press.

“Last set,” I say, standing behind him. “Let’s go, Montgomery. Push like Madison’s watching.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, arms shaking. “That’s messed up.”

“That’s motivation, my man.”

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