Page 22 of Hard Hitter

If only she knew those dreams were of her. I fought sleep every night because waking up without her sucked ass.

* * *

Chloe wasn’t kidding.Over the rest of the week, she texted me constantly. Memes. A scrap of conversation. A picture of a giant dog.

I didn’t hate it, being on her mind all the time, and I responded to every single message. The ease with which she got me to talk should have worried me. I’d built my walls because I didn’t want people to see inside, and Chloe walked right through them as if they weren’t there.

By Friday, I’d developed a freaking Pavlovian response to my message notification sound. I walked into the dining hall at the training facility, and on cue, my lips edged toward a smile at the familiar tone. Chloe sent a winking meme with a message.

I have a surprise for you.

She didn’t usually text me during lunch since she had class when our crew ate. Because of D’s warning, I was surprised to find Chloe took her education seriously. She didn’t skip, she had a thing for organizational spreadsheets, and she paid attention, even when I was trying to distract her.

Did her message mean I’d see her sometime soon? I tried to calm down the rush in my blood, but at this point, I might as well get used to the reaction.

The quiet chaos of an entire dining hall of people gathering for lunch didn’t phase me. I liked being able to blend in with the rest of the athletes and enjoy the time with my friends. Our usual table was in the corner with a booth on one side and chairs on the other. It helped us accommodate the constantly changing group size.

I was running late today, which meant I’d probably be squeezed into the booth. Even in a place meant for large people, the seating arrangements tended to be too small for me. At least the chairs let me spread out.

The spicy scent of curry wafted to me, and I scanned the food offerings as I passed. My stomach growled, making me walk a little faster. I came around the giant plant wall in the middle of the room and cursed when I saw Mac, Shaw, and RJ had taken the chairs.

My heart tripped when I noticed the curvy brunette sitting in the booth next to Eva. Chloe looked up, and her smile brightened when she spotted me. For once, I didn’t mind squeezing.

I slid into the booth next to her and took stock of the table. Mac and Shaw had mostly empty plates in front of them, RJ had a disgustingly chunky green smoothie, and Chloe had a salad she’d barely touched.

Apparently, only Eva had bothered to wait for me. Nothing new. Before I could grab food from the buffet, Chloe dropped a Dallas newspaper in front of me.

“Congratulations, Noah.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but she’d drawn a red circle on the top page around the headline of an article. “For what?”

“You were named one of the top college football players to watch this coming year.”

I frowned and grabbed the paper, skimming the article she’d marked. The author basically did a bullet point list of the top twenty-five offensive players in college football. I was on there, with a weird little bio, along with Shaw, Mac, RJ, and Holbrook, our top running back.

The choices seemed arbitrary, though each entry got a paragraph or two explaining why they were on the list. The author was clearly a fan of TU, but our program got written up a lot. Hell, we were the reigning champions of college football.

All that said, I’d never been mentioned in any of the press before.

I held up the paper. “Did you guys see this?”

Mac grinned. “Yeah. Chloe showed it to us before you got here. Not that you don’t deserve it, but I was lowkey more impressed she found an actual physical copy.”

“What do you mean?”

Shaw pulled out his phone, fiddled with it for a second, then slid it across the table to me. “That article is all over the place. Harper emailed Riley the link this morning. Welcome to the club—benefits include nonstop invasions of your privacy and speculation about the size of your junk.”

Mac scoffed. “No speculations necessary. I’ll go on record as having a monster cock.”

Eva rolled her eyes, and I winced. Not about Mac’s genitals, though he wasn’t lying. Invasions of privacy ranked right up there with zombie apocalypse and a torn ACL as my worst nightmares.

I didn’t know how to respond to being recognized nationally asgood at my job. There were any number of other talented football players they could have chosen—probably should have chosen. I loved playing football, and I was grateful every day that my skill had gotten me a free ride to college. But I wasn’t interested in the fame or the accompanying sacrifices.

The others broke off into a discussion of the other players on the list, and I tilted my head toward Chloe.

“Why aren’t you in class?”

She bumped my shoulder. “Cancelled. I thought I’d see why you guys make such a fuss about the food here.”