We won our last game. It was fucking epic too. Not even close. We dominated that field, and it felt fantastic.

I can’t wait to celebrate with Camden. Alone.

Coming in my pants with him the other day wasn’t enough. But we’ve been busy all week, and there was really no time. I want to show him all the things that can feel so damn good. I want to make him feel good and free.

I want him to experience everything.

Safely. With me.

And yeah, I have to admit, when I watched him come apart in my arms, it felt like flying.

But tonight is also about celebrating with our team and our classmates. So, we’re at the party, hanging out and having a pretty good time. Camden is sitting on the tailgate of his truck with LeAnn. They look cozy, both in hoodies and her head on his shoulder.

Maybe to some, they could even look like a couple, but I know the truth. The truth he trusted me with.

I’m sitting with Dixon, who has his cool-as-fuck acoustic guitar with him tonight. He’s pretty good, having played around with it for years. He’s self-taught, but you wouldn’t know it. The talent drips from his fingers as he sings an old Fleetwood Mac song. Oakley and Christian both joining in, totally off-key.

I laugh and take a swig from my whiskey bottle. I don’t want to drink too much though. Whiskey dick is a thing, and I intend to use mine tonight.

Bates doesn’t look happy at all, though, as he eyes Dixon from across the fire. I don’t know what the hell it is between those two, but I don’t want to get in the middle of it again. That shit was awkward as fuck.

Kennedy is perched on another tailgate with a guy I don’t recognize, which is weird around here. He looks a little older than us. I think she’s trying to make me jealous as she leans into him and flirts, but I couldn’t care less.

He can definitely have her. I hope his dick is big, or at least his confidence is. She’ll crush even the biggest ego. I know.

I catch Camden’s eye. He gives me a coy smile, and as much fun as I’m having, all I really want is to get out of here with him.

“You okay?” Dixon nudges me, and I pull my attention from Cam.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”

He keeps his voice low, strumming his guitar to a tune I recognize as a Chris Stapleton song, but he doesn’t sing along with this one. “I don’t know. That shit in the locker-room was kind of weird.”