Page 57 of The Game Plan

“Haven’t seen you in awhile, girl.”

“You know how this time of year gets,” I tell him. “Midterms are hell.”

“I feel that.” He meets my fist with a bump. “We’ll have to plan something one of these days.”

I’ve been so focused on Miles, I’ve barely been spending time with my friends. I have to do better. I will do better.

“For sure.”

“Cool.”

“It’s a plan, Stan.”

One of the other brothers, listening in, raises his eyebrows. “What exactly just went down?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was this a drug deal or a secret sex plan?”

I laugh. “Not everything is about sex.”

Except when it is.

“We’re just friends,” Jake says, rolling his eyes. I know this isn’t the first time he’s had to correct his brothers on the status of our friendship. “Besides, I have a girlfriend.”

“How is Stacey? I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

He goes red and coughs. “I need a beer.”

“It’s, like, four o’clock.”

“Perfect beer drinking time,” another brother says.

“Who’s down to hit up McRory’s?” Jake asks.

“Oh. I was hoping I could talk to you for a second.”

“About?”

I glance at the accumulated brothers desperate for gossip.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

“Sam—”

“Enjoy your day drinking, boys.” I force out a laugh and waggle my fingers. “See you around.”

Chapter twenty-one

Miles

Wehavearoutinenow. Nothing has changed since Sam and I got together. She still sits with the guys for breakfast and dinner. We still walk home hand in hand. I get to kiss her goodbye when I drop her off at her house. On Tuesday night, she joins us for our Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy! episodes, and then when the rest of the guys are watching a movie, we sneak up to my room and have sex again. It’s as brilliant the second go-around as the first time was.

She spends the night in my bed, and she doesn’t even complain when I have to get up at six for weights. She burrows into my covers, and I debate calling out sick and staying in bed with her. I’m not playing this week anyway. What does it matter if I miss a training session?

No. I’ve got to prove to Coach that I want this, that I deserve to stay on the team. There are a half dozen second string guys dying to take my place. I have to prove that the starting position is mine.

Sam meets us in the dining hall at eight-thirty. She’s wearing leggings and—my cock jerks—she’s wearing one of my hoodies. It’s way too big on her, falling nearly down to her knees like a tent of fabric, and she’s had to push the sleeves up over her wrists, but there’s no denying that’s my Newton Football sweatshirt with my number on the back.

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