“Well, it’s late. I’m gonna head out.” He’s at the door before I can even object. He turns back to me for the briefest of seconds. “Sorry again about crashing your night. Guess we’re even now.” His smirk is locked in place, but his eyes don’t hold the same fearlessness. For the first time, I see Austin Jacobs flustered.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Austin

Shit.

Damn it.

Fuck!

I bolt out of Elizabeth’s apartment knowing I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I got caught up playing boyfriend with her. It was stupid to sing along to that damn old song she had playing. It didn’t mean anything.

She doesn’t mean anything.

Just a job.

Except, Elizabeth isn’t just anything.

She looked at me like I was her everything. I’ve never had anyone see me that way. Plenty of girls stare. I get eye-fucked on the daily. I’m an ice cream on a hot summer afternoon, a quick, easy treat. A momentary distraction from whatever shit is weighing on them. With Elizabeth, it’s like she made a wish and can’t believe it’s come true. Get the fuck over yourself.

She’s having fun with the novelty of a boy toy.

She isn’t yours.

You’ve got another three weeks of fooling around and playing games. Then, you walk away.

When I get home I have a text from her, asking the same question I did earlier.

Goose: Still on for Tuesday?

Me: Sure thing, boss.

* * * *

I don’t text or talk to her at all on Monday. It’s the first day in a week that we haven’t seen each other. Good. I need a break from her.

I dodge Devin’s call and flake on our regular gym session. I don’t need another lecture from him.

At afternoon practice, I push myself harder than I have all season, throwing myself into drills. The coaches appreciate it. Montgomery doesn’t since it gives them more time to ride his lazy ass.

“Pick up the pace, Montgomery. My grandma can run smarter routes!” our receiver’s coach shouts across the field. He jogs over to me as we both catch our breath and wait for the next set of drills.

“Still chasing little Miss Never-gonna-give-it-up?” Monte quips. I ignore him. “No wonder you’re hustling. Trying to take your mind off those blue balls.”

“Why are you so interested in my balls? Maybe you should grow a pair of your own.” I know I shouldn’t let him rile me up. The reaction is what he’s after.

“Oh, I got a pair, you prick.”

“What’s your problem?”

“No problem. Just being real with you. You’re nothing, you know that, right? A nobody. A fucking stray dog that little weird girl feeds scraps. She’s playing with you, man. Out of fucking pity.”