Dare You to Hate Me
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he shoots me a devious grin that I return with a warning shake of my head. Because he and I don’t get along as well as I do with the others, he looks back to Rachel and purrs, “I’ll see you around, Ms. Holloway.”
He smacks a laughing DJ on the shoulder before leaving the room without a second look in my direction. I move over to the seat he took and bump fists with the other Dragon in the room who turns to me. “I haven’t seen any bags of dog shit lit on fire on our front step, so should I assume you made up with Ivy?”
Rachel perks up. “Aiden, did you get a girlfriend?”
The asshole beside me howls. “That’s classic, Rach. This guy? He barely even lets the jersey chasers near him, even when they’re throwing themselves his way. More for us though.”
Our advisor shakes her head but can’t help but smile. “Some people want more than that, Daniel.”
DJ makes a face at her. “Aw, c’mon. You know I hate when you call me that.”
She crosses her arms on the edge of the desk and gives Daniel an amused look. “That is your name, isn’t it?”
DJ grumbles under his breath.
I snort and drape an ankle over my opposite knee and prop my arm up on the back of DJ’s chair. “Could be worse, Danny Boy.”
My friend huffs. “Don’t start.”
Grinning, I remember the first time I heard his mother call him that when she visited for our championship game last season. She yelled out his childhood nickname and made him groan while I laughed from the sidelines where I was grabbing water and a towel. “Can’t help it. It’s fitting somehow.”
He glowers, I grin.
Rachel shakes her head at us. “Well, I think it’s nice if you found a girl who isn’t going to throw herself at you.”
That pulls DJ out of his stupor. “If anything, he’ll wind up on a case of Forensic Files because of this chick. She’s awesome, but intense as hell.”
/> I can’t refute him there, but I don’t offer any information on my old childhood friend like they’re both expecting. “Coach said you wanted to see me,” I redirect instead.
DJ rolls his eyes and looks to Rachel. “I can go now, right? Pass classes or else blah blah blah. I feel you. I’m hungry.”
“When are you not?” I remark.
He shrugs. “I’m a growing boy, Griff. I need the proper nutrients to dominate on the field.” When his sly eyes focus on Rachel, I already know his next line is going to make me groan. “And off the field.”
Unlike with Matt, Rachel offers a small, uninterested laugh at the flirt and gestures toward the door. “You’re free to go. You know what we talked about.”
One more fist bump later, it’s just me and Rachel left in her office. I lean back in the chair, resting my elbows on the armrests. “Matt is persistent, you know. He doesn’t give up easily when he puts his mind to it.”
Her eyes go from the file in front of her to me, a flush back on her face. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Aiden.”
We both know she’s full of shit, so I don’t bother calling her out on it. “My grades have been good this semester, so I’m not sure why I’m here. Pearce mentioned a check-in.”
She seems appreciative of the subject change. “It’s mandatory to meet up a few times a semester to make sure everything is okay. Bill asked me to talk to you about next year since you were invited to the combine.” Her manicured fingers open the file folder and eyes scan the page. “Your stats this year have been stellar, and your grades are perfect. You want to be drafted, right?”
When she meets my eyes, I offer a tip of my chin in confirmation. “Coach says the combine will open that door for me. He suggested ending after this semester.”
“Is that what you want? You’re on top of your courses and in the top three of your class. It’d be a shame to see you stop right before getting your degree.”
“It’s just a piece of paper,” is my reply, even though I think of Mom’s face when I say it. She wants me to earn it because she knows I enjoy school. And with one semester left after this one, it seems stupid to drop out now. But Coach Pearce wants me to train hard to be on my A game for the combine. “I’ve never cared about college that much. It was only about football for me.”
Her nod in understanding doesn’t ease the crawling feeling under my skin. Wilson Reed would have gotten me on this path sooner, but Lindon was still offering me the same opportunities even if it was later than I’d planned.
She leans back in her chair. “I saw what ESPN was saying about you after your last game. They seem optimistic that you’ll be a first pick.”
I lift a shoulder. It’s not new news.
When I don’t offer her a reply, she chooses another topic. “What about this girl? Bill seems to think you’re one of the few he can invest the most time in because you’re never distracted by the wiles of college.”