“I won’t hold my breath,” I replied, no longer able to contain my smile with Tony’s continued theatrics. At any given time, he was like watching a one man three-ring circus. And, all jesting aside, Tony was one hell of a wide receiver. Together, he and Jude had been setting records that would likely never be challenged.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Tony said, nudging the guy next to him. The team’s number one kicker. I think his name was Kurt. Or maybe it was Kirk. Or Kent. Okay, K something. “In the appearance department, Ryder’s a seven, maybe an eight,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he inspected Jude. Kurt or Kirk appraised Jude, rubbing his chin.

“Then you’re a negative two, Tony,” I muttered, really cursing the fates that I was stuck bantering with a couple of Jude’s teammates while the rest talked about and performed every male thing that should never be known to women.

“His personality gets a suck’s ass,” Tony continued, nudging the K named kicker. “So why, in all things unfair and unholy, does he get all the good ones lining up outside his door?”

Jude leaned forward. “I can give you an eight inch explanation, Rufello.”

Tony and the kicker stared at Jude, then each other, right before their heads tipped back and they exploded with laughter.

Jude joined in about halfway through.

But something Tony said needed a little clearing up. “What good ones are lining up outside Jude’s door?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

Tony’s laughter trailed off, his dark eyes shifting away as soon as they landed on me. Jude’s body stiffened just enough around me to cue me to something being off.

“You,” Tony said, thrusting his hands my direction. “You’re the ‘good ones’ lining up outside his door.”

Nope, I wasn’t buying it. I’d seen Tony close to tears the night his senior year high school VIP trophy got snapped in half when a guy used it as a baseball bat at one of the legendary parties at their house, and even then his smile was almost present. There wasn’t a trace of it now, which meant Tony was working to cover something up.

“You,” he repeated again, when I continued to hold him prisoner with my glare.

“And Adriana Vix,” another one of Jude’s teammates added behind us, sounding like he would be content to make love with the name alone.

Now my body tensed, no longer fitting around Jude’s. Twisting in my seat between his legs, I met his eyes.

Nothing in them gave anything away. That was, perhaps, the worst way they could be.

“Who’s Adriana Vix?” I asked, my voice the perfect blend of anxious and pissed off.

Jude’s hands fitted around my face, staring straight into my eyes. It was hard to breathe when he looked at me like this. “No one,” he answered, not removing his hands or stare from me.

“No one?” the guy from behind cried, taking a seat next to us. “Your definition of ‘no one’ must be girls a man would amputate half his limbs to be with. To be with once,” the player whose name I couldn’t remember, but I knew warmed a lot of benches, continued. He was going to be permanently riding benches if he didn’t shove the Adriana Vix worship where the sun didn’t shine.

“Matt,” Jude warned, finally letting my face go, but only to rewrap me into his arms, “shut your trap.”

“Your girl was the one that asked,” he replied, holding up his hands. “I was just answering a question.”

“Well, stop embellishing,” Jude said, his voice level, but I could sense it wavering. About to spill over. “In fact, why don’t you just stop talking for the rest of the night?”

Matt conceded with a shrug, taking a swig of his beer. If it wasn’t for the team’s two beer limit the night before a game, I could write off Matt’s “Adriana Vix” worship as the ramblings of a drunk. Matt was sober as they came, which meant Adriana was as hot as he was implying.

Turning so I could lean my back into the side of Jude’s bent leg, I met his gaze again. He was wearing his old gray beanie tonight, but only because it was cold. He no longer hid behind it.

“She likes you?” High scores for asking the question with as little emotion as possible.

He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe a little,” he answered, his eyes never leaving mine.

“A little?!” Tony hooted across the campfire as a handful of others close by smirked at us. “Thanks to Ryder, the male populace of Syracuse have been enjoying even more of Adriana’s ample bust on display. I thought they were about to pop out of that itty-bitty dress she showed up in yesterday.” Tony whistled through his teeth, his eyes clouding in dreaminess. “That fine thing is on the prowl. And she’s got her sights set on your man, love,” he said, looking at me with a bit of pity. Like I’d already lost the game of Jude by default. Appearance default.

“Say that again, Tony,” Jude warned, his jaw clenched, “and the only thing I’ll be throwing at your pinhead again will be my boot.”

“What?” Tony said. “Telling the truth about Adriana panting in heat for you?”

“No, shithead,” Jude said, notes of anger slipping between his teeth. “Call my girl ‘love’ again. She’s mine. I get to call her that. Not some pissant jerk-off with a big mouth.”

There is was. The territorial Rottweiler that Jude was when it came to me. Usually, it pissed me off when he talked about me like I was something that could be owned, but right now, after hearing about the goddess with tits, I was fine with him going as territorial on me as he wanted.

“My bad,” Tony said, rising and dusting off his pants. “Since I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut, I better put myself to bed before I take a knuckle sandwich to the face.” He smiled at me, but his eyes didn’t match. There was still that hint of pity in them. Like I’d had my time and it was now drawing to a close. I was about to be overthrown by Adriana Vix. “Get all your ugly, hairy asses to bed,” Tony yelled at the last remaining stragglers gazing with lidded eyes into the fire. “We’ve got some ass to kick tomorrow.”

A chorus of grunts and hoots followed as most of the guys shoved themselves up and followed Tony into their respective tents or threw themselves across the tailgates of their trucks. This night was so not how I’d imagined it going.

Jude and I sat huddled together in silence for a minute, both of us staring into the dimming fire, waiting for the other to say something first.

“Do you like her?” I whispered before I realized I’d even thought it.

Jude’s sigh was long and irritated. It was the first time I could remember being relieved that he was irritated at me. Spinning me around so I was facing him, but still sandwiched between his legs, he leveled me with those darkening eyes.

“No,” he answered. “Not in the way your crazy woman mind is thinking.”

He’d only caught a glimpse at how “crazy woman” my mind could get. “And what about in the other way?”

I watched the last flames of the fire’s shadow dying on the side of Jude’s cheek. “She’s all right,” he answered, lifting his brows and waiting. Because he knew enough about me to know something was coming.

“She’s all right?” I repeated, my voice going up. “She’s all right in a I’d-screw-her-in-two-seconds-flat-if-I-was-single kind of way, or she’s all right as in she’s just some girl?”

Jude had warned me months ago not to ask questions I didn’t want honest answers to. I instantly wished I could take my question back.

“Luce,” Jude said, unfurling the blanket cinched around me, grabbing my hands when he pulled them free, “you’re my girl. The girl.” To join the other emotions flashing over his face, a trace of pain did as well. “When I look at Adriana, or any other girl for that matter, that’s all I see. Some other girl who isn’t my girl. I don’t see them, Luce. I see you,” he continued, his skin lining between his brows. “I’ve only ever seen you.”

The worry clenching my stomach started to unravel.