Beck’s lips quirk upward. “Nope, she didn’t mention it.” I hear the humor simmering in his voice. He knows there is no damn way I would invite him to a party.
I wince when Alyssa gives me a bit of side-eye.
“Hmm. That’s strange. She must have forgotten to mention the party to you the same way she forgot to mention that a certain someone who shall remain nameless is my new neighbor.”
I narrow my eyes.
You know what? I was feeling like a shitty friend for not telling her about our living situation, but now?
Not so much.
“Hey, what about me?” Colton interrupts, “Don’t I get an invite?” When her glare intensifies, he adds, “How about for old times’ sake?”
Alyssa tilts her head and glances around again. “It’s so strange the way I keep hearing something.”
“Really, Lys?” Colton’s voice drops. “You’re acting like a child.”
Oh, boy.
I sigh.
If Colton wanted her attention, he’s got it now.
With a scowl, Alyssa whips toward him. Two steps bring her close enough to drill her finger into his chest. Anger vibrates from her in heavy waves. “I’m the child? That’s rich! You dumped my ass because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants! Don’t you dare turn this around on me!” Her voice escalates. People passing by stop and stare. “You and I are not friends. We will never be friends! I was an idiot for thinking you were anything other than a manwhore!”
Even though I’m pissed that Alyssa invited Beck to her welcome home party, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and drag her away from Colton before the situation can spiral any further out of control.
Tears prick her eyes as she blinks back the moisture and glances around, only now realizing that she’s drawn an audience. A dull red color floods her cheeks. My guess is that the jetlag has hit her full force.
Not one to shrink away, she meets the inquisitive looks from the surrounding people with a scowl. “Move it along! Show’s over, there’s nothing to see here.”
Maybe I should talk to the building manager and see if there’s a way to break our rental agreement. If this episode has proven anything, it’s that Alyssa isn’t over Colton nearly as much as she led me to believe and living in this close of contact with her ex won’t end well for any of us.
Chapter Ten
Beck
I drop onto the bench after a two-hour practice under the blazing sun. I’m fucking exhausted and want to jump in the shower and wash away all the sweat and turf sticking to me. As I peel off my jersey and throw it in my locker, Colton does the same.
We’ve been playing football together since we were kids. We know each other’s quirks and tells. Half of the time, he knows which play I’m going to run before I do. I never have to seek him out on the field, he’s always where I expect him to be. As far as football is concerned, we have some kind of weird mental connection.
Which is exactly why the last couple of practices have been so concerning. No matter what I threw out there today, he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. It’s not uncommon to have an off day. We all have them. You have to stay focused and work through it. But this has turned into more of a slump and that, we can’t have.
Not with the season right around the corner.
I’ve got plans this year. And they include bringing home a conference championship. Breaking a few more NCAA football records before I leave wouldn’t be so bad either. But I can’t do any of that without my wide receiver being dialed in.
And he’s not. I don’t know where his head is, but it’s not where it should be.
Colton doesn’t bother making eye contact. He’s too busy shoving his shit into his locker. His agitation is palpable. He knows there’s a problem.
It’s been eating at him for a while.
The locker room turns quiet as Coach stalks through with his Wesley Warriors ball cap pulled low over his eyes and a clipboard clenched in his hand. “Montgomery,” he barks, “get your ass in my office as soon as you’re dressed.”
Colton jerks his head into a nod but keeps his lips pressed together.
Coach Taylor glares at the group of half-naked guys and snaps out a few more names. When he’s done, he slams the door to his office with so much force that it rattles on its hinges.
Devon Baker, a three-hundred-pound lineman, calls out, “Better bring some lube with you, Montgomery. Doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to give it to you gently.”
Colton glares before giving Baker the finger. There is, unfortunately, truth to the statement.
Our first game against Tennessee is in two weeks. I need Colton to pull his head out of his ass and play like I know he can. He looks more like a freshman walk-on than a senior who will turn pro at the end of the year. I’ve got enough of my own bullshit going on without worrying about Colton.