“Don’t judge me. That boy is fine. And I had purely innocent motivations. Honey, he’s at a bar and is getting tagged in sloppy posts. I know you care about him—”

I grabbed the phone and stared at the screen, groaning when I saw Oakley slumped over a bartop and swaying on his seat. Two girls wearing jerseys were posing with him, pressing against his body like he wasn’t drunk as hell and out of his mind.

“Shit,” I croaked before shuffling out of bed and grabbing my phone. I quickly turned it on and immediately got a slew of messages and missed phone calls.

Oakley: We lost the game.

Oakley: Where are you?

Oakley: R you breaking up with me?

Oakley: solvr what are u doing

Oakley: call me backkmmm

“Oh shit. I have to go get him,” I said, looking at my mom.

“He was tagged at a bar near here. Want me to drive?” she asked.

“Yes.” I probably would need her help to get his drunk ass in the car.

* * *

We pulled up to the bar within ten minutes of my mom getting me up. I hadn’t even bothered to change out of my flannel pajama pants and tank top. My hair was piled into a messy bun on top of my head, and I had thrown on flip-flops as I left the rental. I looked a hot mess.

I asked my mom to wait in the car and headed in solo. It didn’t take long to find Oakley; he wasn’t exactly trying to hide. He was sitting at a table, surrounded by women, making a complete ass out of himself. He was definitely drunk. I didn’t see any of the other players. After everything that happened, Coach must have threatened them with their lives if they stepped out tonight.

The girls at Oakley’s table were leaning in as close to him as they could get from across the table, their low cut tops putting everything on display. They were laughing like Oakley was saying the funniest thing they had ever heard. There were a couple of women standing behind him, and one was even perched in his lap. I was too tired and emotionally drained for it to even register that I should be upset about that.

I headed directly for Oakley, prepared to drag him out by his ears if I had to. As I got a little closer, I realized that there was something familiar about the girl with perfect shiny brown hair sitting on his lap. Fucking Legacy.

She ran her hand through his hair, and I saw red. I couldn’t even hear the over-the-top comment she flirtatiously tossed his way over the roaring in my ears.

“Problem,” I said loudly while pushing through the crowd. Some looked at my pajamas and messy hair with disgust. Legacy looked me over and smiled coolly, moving her hand from Oakley’s hair to his chest.