No Bad Days (Fisher Brothers 1)

I nodded toward the exit and headed in that direction as she followed a step behind. Once we were through the double glass doors, I set our tray on top of a trash can and grabbed our food.

“Come on.” I motioned, holding both of our sandwiches as she carried our drinks.

“Where are we going?” She squinted before juggling the drinks so she could lower her sunglasses over her eyes.

“That’s a surprise, but it’s not far.”

Eh, it was a little far but it would be worth it, and I had a suspicion that Jess wouldn’t mind the walk. I glanced at her shoes, noting the sandals on her feet.

“I might have lied,” I said.

Her smile dropped. “About what exactly?”

“The distance. It’s on the other side of campus.”

“Where exactly are you taking me, Mr. Fisher?”

Jess snagged her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for my response. She might have been waiting a minute, ten minutes, or a year, I couldn’t be sure. I was so focused on that lip.

Shaking my head slightly to regain my focus, I said, “The field.”

“The football field?” she asked, clearly confused.

“Yeah.”

“Weird, but whatever.” She shrugged one shoulder and picked up her pace.

I knew no one would be there, and even though I wasn’t on the team anymore, the field was still sort of a sanctuary for me. It was the on

e place I could hide out when I didn’t want to be found, which wasn’t very often, but still, everyone needed a safe place. The football stadium at State was mine.

We slipped through an opening in the gates, then climbed all the way up to the last row and sat in seats beneath the press box. It was the only area in the whole place that had any sort of shade.

Jess settled in the seat next to me, and I kicked my feet up on the chair in front of mine and scooted lower into my seat. She handed me my Pepsi and I handed her her sandwich, and her stupid chips.

“Why the football field?” She glanced at me as she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, trapping strands of her blond hair behind her ears.

“It’s the one place on campus where no one bothers me,” I admitted, far too quickly and easily to someone I barely knew. “If we’d stayed in the student union, we’d never be able to have a real conversation.”

“You used to play, right?”

I nodded, taking a bite of my mangled sandwich. “Up until last season.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that. You don’t want to play anymore?”

She lifted her mile-high sandwich to her lips, making me wonder how on earth she was going to take a bite without spilling the contents down her dress. That mystery was solved when she pressed it between her fingers, making it as compact as possible before moving it to her mouth and taking the smallest bite I’d ever seen. I would have bet money she only got lettuce in that bite.

“I’ll look away and you can just shove it in there,” I teased, not purposely avoiding her question.

“Excuse me?” she mumbled, still chewing.

“Asshole Man Bun made your sandwich too big. I’ll look away so you can get a good bite in.”

She started laughing, or maybe she was choking; I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. She reached for her water and took a swig.

Once she had herself under control, she said, “Asshole Man Bun?”

“Yeah, didn’t you read his name tag? That’s what it said.” I gave her a sly smile.