No Bad Days (Fisher Brothers 1)

“Must have missed it. Okay, so . . . seriously, turn away so I can get down and dirty with this sandwich without you watching.”

I turned away from her and stared at the seats in the stadium, remembering how they used to fill up when I played. Nothing compared to a Friday night under the lights, but that time in my life felt like eons ago instead of only last year.

“You can look back now.”

I turned back and grinned at the spot of mustard that rested on the tip of her nose. Leaning closer, I reached out to wipe away the offending condiment, letting my fingers brush her cheek as I did.

“You had a little mustard there.”

She swallowed hard. “Oh. Thanks. So much for not embarrassing myself. Quick, do something distracting so we can pretend this never happened.”

“It was just a little mustard, Jess. I think we’ll be okay.”

I tossed my arm around her shoulders and tugged her toward me. Being with her was easy, not tense and awkward. I wasn’t used to things with a girl being so easy, so carefree. There was always a hidden agenda, but Jess didn’t seem to have one.

“Are you going to tell me why you stopped playing football?” she asked again.

“What’d you hear?”

She sighed. “Do you always answer questions with questions? Why are you so evasive on this topic?”

I spit out a laugh before removing my arm and reaching for my drink. “I’m not. Sorry, it’s just that I thought everyone knew the answer to that one already.”

Her gaze softened. “I did hear something, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

“I didn’t want to go pro,” I said as my chest tightened. “Honestly, I don’t even know if I was good enough, but plenty of guys on the team were, and that was their dream. I couldn’t, in good conscience, continue playing every Friday night over someone else who wanted it more than I did, who wanted their future to include football when I didn’t.”

Jess nodded, her hand suddenly resting on my thigh as she gave it a light squeeze before taking it away.

Immediately, my mind screamed, Put it back.

“That’s very . . . I want to say noble of you, but who calls people noble these days? But that’s sort of what you are in that situation. I don’t know if many guys would do what you did.”

I drew in a slow breath. Jess made me proud about my decision, yet my old man had practically disowned me for it. Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever, because he had always complained about how much of my life football consumed, insisting it was a waste of time.

He even threatened once to stop paying for school completely if I didn’t, so I did. I quit. And I thought he’d be happy but he still seemed disappointed, as if I’d let him down in some way. I couldn’t win with him.

That theme seemed to be the story of my life. How to Disappoint Your Father, starring Nick Fisher. Yes, I had the leading role.

I gulped down the rest of my drink before angling my body toward Jess. “Ready for twenty questions?”

She popped the last of her sandwich in her mouth and chewed slowly before saying, “Um, I guess.”

Holy Hotness

Jess

Whose life is this?

How was I sitting in the stands of the football stadium with Nick freaking Fisher right now, playing a game of Twenty Questions that he’d initiated? And why with me, of all people?

One minute we were in class, and the next time I blinked, Nick had bought my lunch, gotten a little jealous of the deli-counter guy, and claimed he wanted to get to know me better. Instead of psychoanalyzing everything, I went along with it.

Because I wanted to.

Because if Nick freaking Fisher wanted to get to know me better, then I was going to help him do it.

The overanalyzing could wait until later with Rachel.