“Oh, honey.” She places an arm around my shoulders. “This is tough. If you keep quiet, you’re hurting Jack. If you tell, you’re hurting him. Any way you slice it, someone is going to be unhappy, including you.”

But that’s no reason to stay silent.

••• Week 9: Warriors 7-0

“You look stressed, baby,” Knox declares over dinner. I tug my sweater down. The late October weather is chilly. “You worried about meeting my brother?”

That’s absolutely the last thing on my mind. Knox’s brother, Ty, is coming to visit him this weekend for the game and he’s staying over for a Halloween costume party that night. Really, I think it’s a test to see whether I can tell the two apart in person. I’m certain I’ll pass, although part of me wants to pretend, for a moment, that I’m confused. So Knox won’t bring it up again. But I won’t because that’s probably over-the-top mean.

"“No,” I answer tersely. I wanted to talk to Jack tonight but he said he had a study group for his stats class. I felt immediately relieved and then guilty for feeling relieved. It’s a vicious circle of awful. The sooner I confront the issue, the better for all of us.

“The game?” he presses.

“Should I be?” I counter.

He shakes his head and leans forward. “Nah, we’ll crush them.”

“They’re the number four team in the country.”

Knox’s unshakeable confidence would probably be irritating if he didn’t back it up every Saturday.

“What is the Warriors’ ranking?” He cups his ear.

“Number one.”

He winks. “That’s right.” A mischievous look crosses his face as he leans forward. “Why don’t we go back to my room and I’ll give you a nice rub down to help get rid of all that stress.”

“The last rub down lasted all of five minutes before you had me plastered against the wall.” I brush a hand over the back of my sweater—the tight red one that Knox likes so much. “I think I still have drywall in my shirt from that.”

His eyes gleam. “I like standing up. Good leverage.”

I should explain how it’s also nice to have a soft mattress at your back, but as long as I have Knox here, I might as well ask him a question that’s burned at the back of my mind all day.

“Knox, if something happened on the team. Like a guy got caught cheating or he got arrested for drunk driving, what would happen?”

“He’d be kicked off,” Knox replies immediately.

“No questions. No second chances?”

“No. Coach Lowe doesn’t tolerate that kind of stuff. If there’s a distraction, the distraction gets eliminated.”

God.

“What about if he had problems making grades?”

Knox leans forward and his face takes on a concerned expression. “You got something to tell me, Ellie?”

“No. I’m just, um, thinking about topics for a creative writing class on team unity.”

The side of his mouth curls up in slight disbelief.

“Really,” I insist.

I don’t think he believes me, but he doesn’t press. “A guy with academic problems would probably get suspended until he could get his grades up.”

“What would happen with the team?”

“It’s hard to say.” Knox drums his fingers lightly against the table top as he studies me. I try to look as innocent as possible. “It could mess with the team dynamic. If it was a player on my list, Coach Lowe would be pissed at me because I’m supposed to be on top of that. If there’s anything I should know about Jack…”

Inwardly I wince. I don’t want to lie to him, but I need to tell Jack first. He deserves that from me.

“If I had something I could tell you, I would,” I end up saying.

Knox cocks his head and then reaches across the table to grab my hand. “Okay. I trust you.”

Talk about a knife to the heart. There’s almost nothing he could have said that would make me feel worse. I struggle to put a smile on my face. Briskly, I change the subject. “How are your classes going?”

“Good. It’s interesting, because I thought I’d get completely bored this year, knowing I wasn’t planning on graduating. Instead, the classes got more entertaining.”

“Are you rethinking your plan to declare early?” Knox had told me a week ago that Coach Lowe agreed that he should enter the draft after his junior year. The hype around his play is very high right now and there’s always the risk of playing another year of college ball. Knox can always go back and finish his last year of college. He might not ever have another chance at being drafted in the top ten, which is where he is currently projected.

“No. I want to play with the best and the best play at the next level,” he says simply. “It’s good that Coach supports me. If he didn’t, I guess I wouldn’t get to go early. Scouts rely on his assessment. He’s told them I’m mature enough to go early and that I can handle the extra responsibilities.”

The Warriors have sent several players to the NFL ever since Coach Lowe took over the program, so it’s not surprising that pro scouts rely on his word.

“I can’t believe his endorsement matters so much.” I wonder what Coach Lowe would say if he knew that Knox allowed me to shield Jack’s progress from him. Nothing good. I scowl into my basket of untouched food.

“It’s not just Coach. These scouts investigate everything about you, down to how many times you go see a trainer during the week, what you write on social media, which is why I don’t have any accounts, how many protein supplements you take. I heard that they even rate your girlfriends.”

I gawk at him as he nods in rueful agreement. “I know. It’s wrong. It’s part of their confidence calculation. If you have a hot girlfriend that means you’ve got the swagger you need to play pro ball.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry. You’re a ten.”

I can’t even muster up a smile at his compliment. “I guess when you’re looking at spending seventeen million plus, you want to make sure you’re getting your money’s worth.”

“That’s right. I’m not worried about it. I don’t have any character issues or skeletons in my closet. It’s all good.”

He holds his arms out wide in careless, happy abandon. I’m going to end up hurting everyone I care about.

27 Knox

Something is up with Ellie. I suspect it’s her brother and that he’s struggling with classes. But Coach gets everyone’s transcripts at midterms, so Campbell must still be eligible or he’d be on the bench. I’ll have to talk to Jack tomorrow, which will likely piss Ellie off, but it’s got to be done. I shouldn’t have let her take on that burden anyway. Coach put that on me, and I should have kept up with it like I did the other players.

But there’s no point in getting into it with her tonight. She’s pretending not to be upset, and given that she’s trying hard to put up a happy front, I don’t press her.

I do know one way to cheer her up for real though. “You want to stay over tonight?”

“I don’t know.” She bites her lower lip, the juicy one I like to suck on while I’m dragging my dick in slow motion in and out of her tight body.

“I’ll do all the work.” I wink at her, and when she rewards me with a slight smile, I figure I’m headed in the right direction.

She leans into me as we walk out of the rib joint; not a very Ellie thing to do. She likes to walk on her own two feet. On the one hand I’m thrilled she’s leaning on me. On the other? I’m a little worried. But I’ll take good care of her tonight. Matty’s in my apartment when we get back. “Oh, hey, thought you were eating?” He rises to great us.

“We were, but we’re back.” I jerk my head toward the door. Time to go, Matty Iverson.

“Hi, Matty.” Ellie gives him a weak finger wave but doesn’t move from the doorway until I give her a push.

“Bring anything for me?” he says hopefully.