Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)
Chapter 5

One month later . . .

“Stop pouting,” Maverick huffed. “You’re killing my buzz.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Tell your face.” He clinked his pint glass against mine. “Come on. This is our last night of freedom. Drink up, buttercup.”

As I took a sip from my beer, he lifted his own to his lips and chugged until it was empty.

“Dude. Probably not the smartest move, getting drunk before practice starts tomorrow.”

He pressed a fist to his heart as he belched. “I’m going to miss beer.”

Our football season officially started tomorrow, and until our final game, Maverick, Erik and I wouldn’t drink much, if at all. The beer at our house was already gone. We’d finished it off over the last month and no one had bought more. So tonight, to celebrate this last night of freedom, we’d come to a sports bar downtown.

“Get off your phone.” Maverick shot a scowl at Erik, on the stool beside mine. “She can go one night without you.”

Erik grinned, his fingers still flying over his screen. “She said she misses me already. How much longer is this going to take?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Maverick rolled his eyes, lifting a hand to flag down our waitress.

“Seriously, though.” Erik tucked his phone away, running a hand over his braids. “Can I go now?”

Maverick groaned. “I need new roommates. You both hate fun.”

“I love fun.” Erik stood from his seat, taking out a five-dollar bill and tossing it on the table. “Which is why I’m leaving.”

“See ya.” I knocked my fist against his.

“Bye.”

Like he did most nights, Erik would stay at his girlfriend’s house. Maybe he’d swing home before practice tomorrow, but I was guessing he’d meet us at the fieldhouse for practice.

We hardly saw him these days. When the three of us had moved in together sophomore year, we’d been inseparable. If we weren’t in class, we were studying or working out or watching a game together. But a lot had changed since those early days.

About a year ago, Erik had met Kalindi. They were nearly inseparable and his free time was spent with her. Before graduation next year, I suspected they’d be engaged.

Halsey and I had been together longer, but we’d never been like Erik and Kalindi. A night like this, I would have chosen beers with Maverick and Erik over a quiet night on the couch with my girlfriend.

Probably why she was no longer my girlfriend.

We’d broken up after I’d gotten home from camping last month. I’d listened to all twenty-one of her voicemail messages. A few were rather hard to forget.

My friends all warned me that you’d eventually cheat. Once a cheater, always a cheater. What’s her name? This girl you’re fucking in your parents’ camper.

All you care about is football. All you’ve ever cared about is football. I am so tired of taking second place to a game and your team. Your precious fucking team.

We’re over. Done. I never want to see you again, Rush.

I’d listened to her call me a fucking asshole. I’d listened to her spew venom. I’d listened to her cry and sob and, in her last message, beg me to forget everything she’d said when she was angry.

The breakup had been messy. I’d never seen a person cry so hard.

But after a week, the dust had settled. She’d called to apologize for the dramatics and asked if we could be friends. Maybe we could have been friends. I didn’t mind the random texts and funny memes she’d replace online and send over. But earlier tonight, she’d crossed the line.

She’d come to the house and told me it was time we got back together.

Apparently, she’d thought this was a break, not a breakup.

Which meant tonight, I had to do it all over again. Break it off. Watch her cry. Say goodbye.

“You’re still pouting,” Mav said.

Maybe so. I’d had better evenings. But when it came to Halsey, I couldn’t confide in Maverick. He wouldn’t understand. Not with their history.

“Sorry.” I took another sip of my beer.

“I saw Coach Ellis when I was coming out of the weight room this afternoon,” Maverick said. “He was in his office setting up some stuff. He had his daughter along.”

“Did you talk to him?” I asked.

“No. I figured I’d just meet him tomorrow at practice.”

The Wildcats had a new head coach this year. Our previous coach had gotten his ass fired this spring for hosting underage parties like a fucking moron.

It hadn’t really come as a surprise to hear the news. Most of us had wondered how long it would be until he got caught.

Too long.

And the hell of it was, it had taken a bad situation to finally bring it all to light.

One of the younger players this past spring had landed in the emergency room with alcohol poisoning and a baggie of Adderall in his pocket. He’d been drinking at Coach’s house.

Coach had invited me to his place a few times my freshman year. Erik, Maverick and I had gone once and only once. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, but it hadn’t exactly been fun either. Coach had told us he wanted us to have a safe place to go and unwind. He hadn’t given us alcohol but the fridge and the liquor cabinet in his basement had been stocked. We’d watched a game on his massive TV while some of the other guys took a few tequila shots. Then some girls had come over to hang.

Coach hadn’t been with us that night. He’d been somewhere else in the house doing whatever it was that he did during the parties. But the whole encounter had given me a strange vibe. He hadn’t asked us not to talk about it, but we all just knew to keep it quiet.

It had been fairly tame, but odd enough that Maverick, Erik and I had never gone back.

Apparently, over the last three years, things had escalated. This spring, one of the parties had been busted and Coach had lost his job.

I hadn’t minded playing for him, but I also wasn’t heartbroken to see him go.

And considering Ford Ellis’s experience and reputation, we’d traded up. Way the fuck up.

“What do you think it will be like?” I asked Mav. “With Ellis?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope he’s not an arrogant prick.”

“Same.”

Ford Ellis was an NFL superstar with the Super Bowl ring to prove it. He’d retired from the Seahawks as a player after an injury and taken an assistant coaching position with their franchise.

Now he was in Montana to lead the Wildcats, which to some might seem like a step backward, except Ford had played at Treasure State in college. I understood that desire to lead your former team.

Personally, I was going to soak up as much as that man could teach. He’d played for the Wildcats, been drafted and had a successful career in the NFL. He’d paved the road I was hoping to walk myself.

Graduate, then God willing, go pro.

That was the plan. The dream. The goal I’d been working toward for years.

It was never a guarantee I’d get drafted. There were quarterbacks across the country playing at bigger, better colleges. But it was possible. With a lot of hard work and luck.

Maybe Coach Ellis would bring me a bit of his luck.

That, or he’d be a cocky bastard who bragged about his own accomplishments and treated us all like we were beneath him.

Guess we’d replace out tomorrow.

“This job isn’t as prestigious as an NFL coaching job,” I said. “Makes me think he’s not here for the money or glory. That’s gotta be a good sign.”

“I hope you’re right.” Maverick slid Erik’s full pint glass across the table and took a gulp. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“Yep.” I took another drink, glancing around the bar.

Legends was one of the less popular hangout spots in Mission. It was at the end of Main Street, blocks away from the cluster of bars that were most popular with other college students. We came here because beers at Legends were two dollars cheaper than anywhere else, and they had TVs on every wall, each tuned to a baseball game.

Beside us was a group of guys each dressed in slacks and button-down shirts. They’d probably come for a beer after work. A few other tables were taken, but for the most part, Legends was quiet for a Saturday night.

The front door swung open and a cluster of girls dressed in argyle socks, plaid skirts and polo shirts shuffled inside. A blond in the middle of the pack was wearing a tiara and feather boa.

“Bachelorette party?” Maverick mused.

“I bet they’re bar hopping.”

One of the girls was wearing a necklace of miniature dicks. I recognized her from school, and before she noticed me, I pulled the brim on my hat lower, shielding my face.

Maverick smirked as he watched them all pile in close to the bar and order a round of shots. “So now that you and Halsey are finally done, are you going to be my wingman tonight?”

I scoffed. “Absolutely not. You’re on your own. I’m about to head home.”

“The hell you are,” he said, but there was no threat to his words. He was too busy gawking at the girls, probably picking his target. Mav raised his beer but before he took another drink, he froze, glass halfway to his mouth, his gaze glued across the bar. “Damn, she’s hot.”

Which meant I could go home. He’d ditch me the second that beer glass was empty.

In all the years we’d been friends, not once had I ever seen him get serious about a woman. Maverick was content to play football, go to school and hook up with every single, beautiful woman in Mission.

It was curiosity for whoever had snagged his attention tonight that made me turn and glance over my shoulder. And it was a flash of red hair that made me do a double take.

Faye.

I hadn’t expected to see her again after camping, but she’d crossed my mind a few times. I’d wondered if I’d see her on campus after school started.

Guess I wouldn’t have to wait.

Maverick smacked his glass down on the table, stealing my focus. “Okay, you can leave.”

Absolutely fucking not. I had no idea if he’d zeroed in on Faye, but I wasn’t letting him within an inch of her body.

He rose from his stool, but before he could fully stand, I stretched across the table and clamped a hand over his shoulder.

Mav looked at my hand. “What the hell?”

“The redhead. Don’t even think about it.” I stood, pushing harder on his shoulder until his ass was back on the stool. “She’s mine.”

“She’s yours?” He blinked, then a slow grin stretched across his mouth. “Ah. Rebound. About damn time.”

“That’s not . . . I know her. I met her camping this summer.”

“Whatever, man.” He held up his hands, that shit-eating grin stretching wider. “I was going for the petite brunette in the peach polo anyway. Have a good time.”

I shot him a glare before walking away, his chuckle following me as I weaved past tables toward the bar.

Faye was standing at the edge of the group, not removed but not in the mix either. Her hands were clasped together in front of her as she looked up at the TV above her head on the nearest wall.

She looked . . . bored. Beautiful.

Her strawberry-blond hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders. It was longer than I’d realized, since she’d had it piled in a messy knot when we’d met by Gray Rock.

She was dressed for the party in a lime-green and white argyle sweater-vest over a tee. Instead of a skirt like the other girls, she was in a pair of denim shorts that showcased her toned, lean legs. Her blue socks came up to her knees.

I stopped in front of her, waiting until she noticed me.

When she did, it was her turn for a double take. “Rush?”

“Hi, Faye.”

“H-hi.” A pretty flush crept into her cheeks as she stared up at me.

“Do me a favor? Spin around.”

“Huh?”

I twirled a finger in the air. “Spin around.”

“Okay,” she drawled, her eyebrows coming together as she obeyed. Her hair tickled the middle of her back as she turned in a complete circle, stopping when she faced me again with her hands planted on her hips. “Why did I just do that?”

“I’m trying to figure out where you’re hiding the bear spray.”

A giggle burst from her lips, so loud and carefree it seemed to surprise her because she clamped a hand over her mouth.

I chuckled. “Good to see you, Faye.”

She was wearing a breathtaking smile when her hand dropped. “You too, Rush.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She glanced past my arm to her friends. “We’re supposed to leave soon for the next bar.”

“Bachelorette party?”

“Yeah. We’re doing a bar crawl. My friend Hannah is getting married in two weeks. This isn’t really my thing but we’ve been friends since high school so here I am.”

“Here you are.” My gaze roved over her face, taking in the details I hadn’t let myself appreciate when we’d been sitting at that campfire last month. The straight, cute nose. The delicate chin and pink lips. The caramel eyes with striations of copper and gold.

“Faye.” One of the girls thrust a shot into her hand.

She lifted it to her mouth and threw it back, nose scrunching as she swallowed.

Fuck, she was pretty.

Had she broken up with her boyfriend? Maybe I’d replace out if I could convince her to stay for a little while longer.

“On to the next bar,” the bride-to-be announced.

Damn.

Faye sighed and set her empty shot glass aside. “Guess we’re taking off.”

“Where to?”

She pulled a card from her back pocket and scanned the list of bars they’d lined up for the crawl. “The Eagles.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“If you must,” she teased, a smile toying on those sweet lips.

Yeah. I must.

“Rush.” Faye’s breath hitched as I slid inside her body.

“Fuck.” She was tight. So damn tight.

The world was spinning too fast. The edges were blurry.

But Faye. God, she was incredible.

Her fingertips dug into my shoulders as her eyelids fluttered closed. She pulled that pink bottom lip between her teeth and moaned.

Nah. She didn’t get to bite that lip. Tonight, it was mine.

I sealed my lips over hers, swallowing a moan as I eased out of her body. Then I drove home, deep, in a single, deliberate thrust.

Her gasp mingled with my own.

“You feel so fucking good.” I set a steady rhythm, my hips cradled in hers and her legs widening with every stroke.

“Yes,” she hissed when I moved, her calves wrapping around my hips and her heels digging into the small of my back.

Her pebbled nipples dragged across my chest as I rocked in and out, over and over and over.

Each time I kissed a part of her smooth, perfect skin, she’d mewl.

She moved her hands into my hair, tugging at the strands. Tugging hard. Faye clung to me as I locked my gaze with hers.

I was drunk. On the booze. On this woman.

When I crushed my mouth to hers, giving her everything I had, she gave it right back. Her sounds filled the room, mingling with my own.

We fucked for what felt like hours, without restraint or pause. I lost myself inside her body, and no matter how many times I drove to the hilt, it wasn’t enough.

It was the best sex I’d ever had in my life.

She ignited under my touch. My whole body was on fire, and I never wanted those flames to stop. When we finally came together, it was in a tangle of sweaty limbs and raging heartbeats.

“That was . . .” Magic. Fucking magic.

“Yeah,” she panted.

Tomorrow, we’d do this again. Then the day after that and the day after that and the day after that.

“Faye,” I murmured her name, not sure what else I was going to say. So I buried my face in her hair, my mouth stretched in a smile, and passed the hell out.

The sound of a car door shutting jolted me awake.

Moonlight cast my bedroom in rays of silver and gray. I lifted up on an elbow, blinking the sleep and whiskey haze away.

Where the fuck was my pillow? Or my blankets?

My vision swam as I glanced to the empty space beside me.

Where the fuck was Faye?