And the poor bastard has some big shoes to fill. He’s a sophomore, forced to play the big game with a team that loved their former quarterback. Oftentimes, Drew barely had to communicate with us during a play, he just knew where to throw or pass, and we just knew where to catch it. Fucking strange, but true. We were in sync. We’re not in sync with Cal.

“Hey, Cal.”

He flinches as if he hadn’t noticed my presence. Despite the stiffness in his shoulders, he turns to face me. Cal is nothing like Drew. He’s not a pretty boy. He doesn’t laugh much or talk like an English professor. Truth be told, he looks more like a bruiser. Blunt features, a nose that might have been broken at one point. And his eyes are eerie as fuck. Frosty green, surrounded by dark lashes, when he points them at you it’s like you’re expecting lasers to shoot out or something.

His expression drawn and tight, he looks like he’s expecting me to give him shit. “Hey.”

“We’re going out to Palmers tonight. Come along.” Again, not a question.

Cal blinks in surprise before weariness pulls at his mouth. “Thanks but I don’t—”

“Look, man, I don’t envy you your position right now. It’s gotta be stressful as shit. But I do know that a QB who bonds with his men has an advantage.”

His gaze narrows. “And you think having some drinks with a few teammates is gonna make everything all right? Yeah. Sure.”

“I think we need you,” I answer truthfully. “And you need us. So, yeah, you do what you can to help get the win. Suck it up and get your ass over to Palmers tonight.”

The tension goes out of his shoulders on a sigh. “All right, I’ll go.”

“Your enthusiasm overwhelms me,” I mutter, grabbing my bag. But then I pause and give him a good glare. “You bail, and I will hunt you down, newbie.”

He rolls his eyes but almost smiles. “I’m terrified.”

“I know. My tackle is a thing of fearsome beauty.”

Cal snorts as I leave. I’m almost out the door when he calls out. “Grayson.” When I stop and glance back, he gives me a nod of his chin. “Thanks.”

It’s not like I’ve done anything but be decent. But I nod back. “Buy me a beer and we’ll call it even.”

As soon as I’m out the door, my thoughts turn back to Mac, and I rub the small sore spot on my chest where she pinched. Tonight can’t come too soon.

Five

Ivy

“Where are you going tonight, sugar pie?”

Fi’s voice, garbled by her cold, cuts through the music that fills my room. I lower the bronze eyeliner I’d been smudging along my lids and glance at her. “Palmers.”

Her red-tipped nose wrinkles. “That meat market? No fair.”

Laughing, I pick up where I left off with the eyeliner, giving myself a soft cat-eye line. “Go there much?”

“Not recently. I hate being sick.” With that whine, she plops down on my bed, lying with dramatic flair among the many pillows. Her puffy eyes narrow onto my docking station where I’m playing songs on my phone. “SexyBack? Really?” A huge grin cracks her face. “It’s like that, is it?”

Shit. It is a deep, dark secret of mine that, when wanting to get my sexy mojo going, I’ll play SexyBack. I suppose my preteen lust for Justin Timberlake never died.

Flushed, I make a production out of selecting a red lip tint to blot on before my gloss. “Whatever. It’s set on random.”

But Fi knows me too well. She eyes my outfit, and her smirk returns. “Uh-huh. Nice top.”

I’m wearing a red silk halter top. It has a high, gathered neckline, but it’s cut so that my shoulders and back are exposed. A strapless, low-backed bra assures that my breasts aren’t swaying out of control, but the top is definitely sexy. Paired with black skinny jeans and high-heeled booties, the outfit is also fairly comfortable. And because Gray is tall as a tree, I can wear heels and not dwarf him. Always a bonus in my world.

“I’m not going to a bar looking like a schlub,” I mutter, dabbing on the red lip tint.

“Speaking of sexy,” Fiona drawls. “Is that mountain of man hotness coming to get you?”

I snort at her nickname for Gray. “No. I’m meeting him there. This isn’t a date, Fi.”

I don’t mention that I’m taking a cab. Gray got his truck back from Drew and promised to not only be the designated driver for tonight but to bring me back home as well. He would have picked me up, but he’s driving a few of his friends, and I refused to cramp their ride. I hadn’t wanted Gray to drive me home for that same reason, but he insisted.

“Trust me, Mac,” he’d said, “they’ll find their own rides home.”

Hooking up. It’s stupid that the idea bothers me. Or that I’d looked at Gray when he’d said that and thought of him finding a girl to hook up with tonight. Taking her home and…

Even now a shudder of distaste runs through me. Stupid shudder. I have no right to be upset. Hell, the fact that I am upset is upsetting. But I’d pulled up my big-girl panties and suggested to Gray that I might be a third wheel.

He’d reacted as though I was talking crazy, insisting that tonight was our night to hang out. So I let the matter drop. But eventually I’ll have to deal with seeing Gray pick up women.

Frowning, I detach my phone from the dock and slip it into my little clutch purse.