Out in the End Zone (Out in College 2)

“Mitch is a good guy. You’d make a cute couple,” he teased.

“Gee, thanks.” I batted my eyelashes and clandestinely pulled a throw pillow over my crotch. I didn’t know what my deal was, but just talking about Mitch made my dick swell. I had to change the topic quickly. “Are you hungry?”

Derek jumped out of his chair and held his phone up. “Yeah. I’ve never needed french fries more in my life. Are you in?”

“Yeah, but only if we get Del Taco. I want a burrito, nachos, a quesadilla…one of everything. Real life starts tomorrow. I have practice at six, class at nine, and then I have to be here for lunch before heading back to Orange for—”

“Why would you come home for lunch? You hate commuting.”

Oops. I’d said too much. I gave him a blank stare and pointed at his cell. “Dentist appointment. You can’t order Del Taco on your phone, dumbshit. You gotta drive.”

He groaned pathetically. “Oh, no. I can’t drive. I’m much too hungover. Rock, paper, scissors?”

I chuckled but nodded in agreement, thankful for the silly diversion. I loved Derek like a second brother and I trusted him for sure, but I didn’t want to talk about Mitch at all. Our wacky, all-over-the-map conversations from the night before and our upcoming lunch were a bit of a mystery to me too. I couldn’t explain why I’d agreed to meet him in the middle of a busy Monday. But the truth was…I couldn’t wait.

The locker room was stifling hot after practice Monday morning. We had state-of-the-art amenities, like a high ceiling, bigger than average individual lockers, and amazing water pressure in the showers. And not to brag, but we even had a sauna and Jacuzzi. Private school perks were awesome, but they couldn’t make up for the unseasonably warm weather outside and the intense workout we’d just had on the field. My body ached all over. I wanted nothing more than to take advantage of the Jacuzzi, then go home and take a three-hour nap. Not happening. I had twenty minutes to get to class before heading to Long Beach.

I figured out the timing in my head. If I left Orange at noon, I could be in Long Beach within half an hour if traffic cooperated. Maybe I’d swing by the house and—

“Yo, di Angelo! Where were you this weekend? You missed Nicole’s party. It’s cool, man. I kept her company.”

I slipped my short-sleeved shirt over my shoulders and tossed a blank look at Jonesie. He was a beast of a guy. Six foot six, two hundred and ninety pounds of sheer muscle. Well, maybe a little fat too. Jonesie loved his Oreos. And he loved a good time. He always knew where to find the best parties, which in his mind were the ones with the hottest babes who treated football players like rock stars or God’s gift to mankind.

Star treatment was a powerful aphrodisiac, but it wasn’t my thing. Been there, done that. I’d rather have a two-way conversation with someone based on common interests than soak up mindless admiration and hope it led to getting laid. And waking up next to a stranger whose name I couldn’t remember lost its appeal the first time I’d done it. But Jonesie, whose first name I’d forgotten the day he told me, was a couple of years younger than me. He wasn’t ready to hang up his party hat anytime soon.

“I bet. Did you have fun?” I asked.

“Can’t remember, so yeah, it was probably awesome. Nicole was looking for you, though. She was real disappointed you didn’t show up. I told her you’d be around this weekend.” He waggled his thick brows lasciviously and slapped high fives with a couple of the guys getting ready nearby.

“How do you know I’m gonna be around this weekend? I’m a busy man, Jonesie.” I tied my shoes as fast as possible. Then I swung my workout bag over my shoulder and started buttoning my shirt.

“We’ve got a game, man. You gotta hang with us afterward.”

“Right.” I flashed my best noncommittal smile and bumped his arm as I made my way to the exit.

“If you don’t want her, I call dibs,” he shouted.

I stopped in my tracks and scowled as I turned around. I wanted to smack the shit-eating, pompous look off his face, but I literally didn’t have time to get into a fight. However, I wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

“Don’t talk like that, dude. She’s a person, not a fucking ice cream flavor. Show some respect and show some fuckin’ class,” I huffed derisively.

All eyes were on us for a second or two before the silence was interrupted by a flood of idiotic hoots and catcalls. I held eye contact with him for half a beat longer, then walked away.