Finding Our Course (Finding our Way 3)

She nods and goes into the bathroom. The past few days have been exhausting for us. We practiced a few hours a day but then were required at appearances around the area for fans and alumni, not to mention the fan fest.

Cheering in the game today at Sun Life Stadium was a whole new experience. The energy and enthusiasm was off the charts. Adrenaline pumped through me the whole game, and when we won, it was an insane celebration on the field. Now, I’m so tired, a night out sounds like torture. But I promised Quinn, so I force myself off the bed and dig through my suitcase for an outfit.

My phone rings with the familiar ring tone, which instantly makes me smile.

“Hey there,” I answer.

“Babe, you were on TV all night. You looked incredible. Did they make your uniforms skimpier for the bowl game?” Bryce asks.

“No, same uniform as always.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Unfortunately, picking out an outfit for tonight. Quinn is insistent we party into the New Year.”

“Where?”

“I have no idea. Probably a bar somewhere close since we only have a little time before midnight.”

“I don’t like it. I’d prefer you stay in. I still have flashbacks to the fucking body shots in the airport.”

“Bryce! Get over it.”

“No body shots, Devon. Promise me.” His tone is possessive.

“Promise. What are you doing tonight?”

“Not too much, maybe a few drinks at a bar down the road. Text me when you get back to your room. And be careful.”

“Okay, you too.”

“Always.” He hangs up, and I stare at the phone. We really need to have a talk about his etiquette.

“Shower’s all yours. Hurry up!” Quinn comes out with a trail of steam following her. She inspects the outfit I laid on the bed and nods her head in approval then waves her hand at me to hurry.

When we’re both dressed and Quinn has found out where to meet everyone, we head downstairs. Several heads turn to stare as we wait for a cab, but none of them remotely compare to Bryce. For the hundredth time since leaving Colorado, I realize, I’m screwed.

When we get to the club, it’s packed. People line the streets waiting for entry, and the outdoor bar is crowded with bodies everywhere. Quinn asks the bouncer if our names are on the VIP list since our friends came earlier. He nods and lets us in, pointing to a sectioned-off area, not even asking for our IDs.

We join a group of people we know in the roped area. A waitress brings us our drinks, and it’s clear we’re the most sober of the group. I decline when invited for body shots, avoiding Quinn’s hard stare.

A few of us head to the dance floor, where bodies close in on us, gyrating to the beat of the music. I don’t turn around when a guy grabs me from behind and starts grinding lightly. It’s not seductive in any way, just a friendly dance. One song leads into the next, and Quinn joins me, dancing on my front.

The guy behind me moves away, and Quinn stops moving all together. Her eyes grow wide, and she shakes her head, indicating I turn around. When I do, my heart stops. Bryce is standing behind me with his arms crossed, looking ready to kill.

I ignore his fury and squeal, hopping into his arms. He stumbles back slightly but catches me and lifts me up his body. My legs wrap around his waist, and I bury my face in his neck.

“Is it really you?”

“I better be the only guy you greet this way,” he hisses.

Leaning back, I cup his cheeks and kiss him quickly then rest my forehead against his. “You are.”

“You realize I want to punch the dickhead that was grinding on your ass, right?”

“You have turned into a total caveman!” Quinn swats his arm.

“Yep, complete and utter overprotective ape. Don’t like seeing some douche with an obvious hard-on rubbing on my girl.”