DRAFTDAY

ABWWMSPORTSROMANCE

TOYAKING

SALTEDPENPUBLICATIONS

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DraftDay:ABWWMSportsRomance

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A B O U T T H I S B O O K

Tyler

I’mridinghigh.AsuccessfulcollegefootballcareermeansI’mabouttosignwiththe

NFL--andIhaveallthewomenIwant.

WhenDejashowsupatmyfootballpractice,I’mshockedatthechangesinher.When

wewereinfostercareaskids,Ialwaysprotectedher,andsheneedsmemorethan

ever.

I’mdeterminedtotakecareofher--butwillIbeforcedtochoosebetweenherandmy

career?

Deja

Tylerwastheonlyrealbrightspotinmylifegrowingup.MaybeIdon’tdeservetobein

hislifeanymore,butturningtohimwhenIhitrockbottomistheonlychoicethat

makessense.

Ican’thelpwantingmorefromhimthanfriendship.Hehasthebrightestfuture

imaginable,andifI’mnotcareful,Icoulddraghimdownwithme.

He’slikeabeaconlightingmywaytoabetterpath…ifIcanfindthestrengthtofollow

it.ButwillhebewaitingformewhenIgetthere?

DraftDayisasteamystandalone,interracial(bwwm)footballromancenovelwithan

HEAandnocliffhangers.

Author’sNote:

Thise-bookisintendedformatureaudiencesonly.Itcontainsgraphicadultlanguage

andexplicitsexuality.Thise-bookisnotintendedforreadersundertheageof18.

Readerdiscretionisadvised.

D E J A

stoodinthebathroomdoorwayandlookeddownattheunconsciousmessthatused

tobemyboyfriend.Orwasstillmyboyfriend.Ashellofaboyfriend,justlikehewasa
shellofaperson.HewouldneverbethemanIneededhimtobe.Hewouldneverdo
meanygood.

“Get up, Malik.” I rolled my eyes. I shook my head when I remembered the only

man that was ever good to me in my life was my childhood best friend, Tyler. I
wondered what he was up to nowadays. I’m sure he was doing better than the man
passedoutonthebathroomfloorinfrontofme.Itwasashamewelostcontactyears
ago,andIwonderedifIwouldeverseehimagain.

“I’m sick of this shit, Malik,” I said and folded my arms. He always looked so

peacefulwhenhewashigh.Hecouldforgeteverythinginhisfuckeduplife.Iwanted
toforgeteverything,too.Ineededtogetawaysomehowandleavehimforgood.

ButIwasstillthere.Istoodthereinthatdamneddoorway,lookingdownathim.I

should’veleft,butIdidn’t.Iwastooweak.AndIhatedthatweakness.Ihatedmyself.

Thebruiseformingundermyeyethrobbedandstung,threateningtobeagoodone.

I’dhadalotofgoodones,andIownedseveralpairsofdarksunglasses—almostonefor
everydayoftheweek,actually.WheneverIfoundagoodpair,oneswhichcoveredas
muchofmyfaceaspossible,Ipickedthemup.I’dhavetobreakoutoneofthemwhen
Iwenttoworkthenextmorning.

NotthatIfooledanybody.
IshookmyheadandsteppedoverMalik’shalf-deadbody.Hewasn’tathreattome

then,notwhentheneedlewasstillhangingoutofhisarm.Iheadedtothebathroom
mirrorandwincedatthesightofmyself.WhyhaveIstoopedsolowandfound“love”
withamanwhobeatsme?Amanwho’saddictedtoeverydrugunderthesun?

“Shit,”ImurmuredasItouchedmybruisedeye.WasIonly twenty-one? I looked

ten,maybefifteen,yearsolderjustthen,asIanalyzedmyworn-outface.Ipulledajar
of Vaseline from the medicine cabinet and spread it over the smudged, dripping
mascara that had run down my face when I cried. The Vaseline lifted the makeup
withoutmeneedingtoscrubmysoreskin—whereMalikhadn’tpunched,he’dslapped,
andmywholefacestunglikeI’dbeenattackedbybees.

What the hell was I doing with him? I asked myself again. I was only twenty-one.

How many years did I have left to go of this routine? The pattern we’d gotten into?

Thingswouldbegood,butonlyforalittlewhileandonlyforaslongashisdrugslasted.
Godforbidhisstashgetalittletoolow.Iftheydid,he’dbetense,orI’ddooneofthe
millionandonestupidthingshealwaysaccusedmeofdoing,anditwouldallexplode.
He’dflyintoarage,anditwouldallgodownhillfromthere.

IwipedasgentlyasIcouldwithawadded-uptissueuntilthesmudgeswentaway.

That was my uninjured eye. The other would have to wait—I couldn’t imagine
touchingit,muchlesswipingatit.

Iranahandovermythickblackhair.Hehadn’tpulleditthistime.Thatwasarelief.

Icouldwashitwithoutithurting.Mybrowneyeswerebloodshot.Mybottomlipwasa
littleswollen.I’dgottenoffprettyeasythistime.Ithadbeenalotworse.

IturnedandcarefullysteppedoverMalik’sbodyagain.Ididn’tevenstoptocheck

whetherhewasbreathing.Ihopedhewasn’t.HecouldburninHellforallIcared.

I got changed out of my uniform, since he hadn’t even given me a chance to get

changed into comfortable clothes before he started screaming at me for being late
gettinghome.Myapronwasalittletorn,butIcouldsewit.Nobodyatthesupermarket
wouldcareorevennotice.Andiftheydidnotice,andeveniftheycared,theywouldn’t
sayanything.Theywereusedtonotsayinganythingwhentheysawsomethingfunny
goingonwithme.Thatwashowpeopleactedwhentheyknewsomebodywasbeing
hurt.Itwasn’ttheirbusiness.Theydidn’twanttosticktheirnosesinwheretheydidn’t
belong. I would probably have done the same thing—actually, I had, only it was my
fostermothergettinghurt.ButIwasakidthen.Icouldn’thavedoneanythingtohelp
her.

IwenttothekitchenafterthatandreachedfortheHennessyontopofthefridge.It

was nice and full. That was a good feeling. I felt secure when the bottle was full. I
wouldn’thavetoworryaboutwhereIwassupposedtogetmyliquor.Iwouldn’thave
toworryaboutwhattodowiththerestofthenight.Icouldforgeteverythingandjust
feelgood.

Ipulledaglassoutofthecabinetandpoureduntilitwasfull,thentookthebottle

andglassouttothelivingroomwithme.Ispilledalittle,soItookasip,sotheglass
wasn’toverfullanymore.Ihatedwastingany.

The TV was on, just background noise. I couldn’t sit there in silence, that was for

sure. I was one of those people who turned the TV on as soon as I walked into the
room.Ineededthesound.IneededtohearvoicestomuffleMalik’sscreams.

Isankintomyfavoritechairandlookedaroundthelivingroom.Achair,asofa,a

TVonanoldstand.Everythingcameoutofthetrash—somebodyelse’strash.Oneof
thefewthingsIrememberedfrommyrealfatherwashowheusedtosayoneman’s
trash was another man’s treasure. That was one of his favorites. I remembered it
becauseIalwaysusedtothinkitwassofunny.

Iwonderedwhathewouldthinkabouthislittlegirlnow.
Ifinishedmyglass,andthewarmandwonderfulfeelingstartedtospreadthrough

me.IwishedIcouldliveinthatfeeling.IwishedIneverhadtoleaveit.Butthelast
time I brought my flask into work with me, my boss had seen it and put me on
probation.Icouldn’tmakethatmistakeagain.Icouldn’tlosemyjob.SowaitinguntilI
gothometodrinkwasallIcoulddo.JustlikeMaliktoholdmeup.TheonlythingIhad
wantedwhenIwalkedthroughthedoortomyapartmentwasadrink.Theonlything

thathadkeptmegoingwhenhewasgoingcrazyonmewasthatbottleontopofthe
fridge.Iwishedhewould’veatleastletmegetadrinkinmebeforehegotstarted.At
leastitwouldn’thavehurtsomuch.

Irememberedmyeyeandgotuptogobacktothekitchen.Thebathroomdoorwas

still open, and Malik was still on the floor. I hoped he would at least get off the
goddamn floor before I had to pee. A quick ice pack—a few cubes in a few stacked
papertowels—andIwentbacktothelivingroomwiththeiceovermyeye.Itmadethe
paingoaway,almostaswellastheHennessydid.

Ipouredmythirddrinkandflippedthroughchannels.Ineededtofindsomething

stupid,somethingIwouldn’thavetothinkabouttoomuch;adumbcomedyshowor
movie,notaromance.Romancewasforsuckers.Nosuchthinginreallife.Ithought
back to every relationship I had ever been in, and every one I’d ever seen. None of
themwereanythingliketheonesinromanticmovies.Thenewswason.Well,maybeI
couldzoneouttothatbeforererunsofMartinofTheFreshPrincestartedforthenight.

Itwasonlysixo’clockandagirlwithwaytoomuchmakeuponstartedtalkingon

theTV.

“LocalsportsstarT.J.HunterlookstobeonhiswaytotheNFLdraft.”
“Next,”Isaid,rollingmybrowneyes.
The news reporter kept going, and a picture came up on the screen. The football

playershewastalkingabout.Ialmostdroppedmyglassonthefloor.

“Forthepastfourseasons,HunterhasprovenhimselfamajorassettothePanthers,

leading the team to back-to-back SEC Championships as a quarterback. Considered a
possible contender for this year’s Heisman Trophy, he’s also rumored to be a first-
rounddraftpickcomeAprilinChicago.”

Iwatchedfootageofthekidthenewsreporterwastalkingabout.Hewaspracticing

withhisteam,andtherewerecameraseverywhere.Peoplelovedhim.Hewasonhis
waytobecomingastar—no,hewasalreadyastarathisschool,Iguessed.EvenIknew
whattheHeismanTrophywas.EvenIknewthatwasabigdeal.

AndIknewhim.
“T.J.?”Imurmured.“T.J.asinTylerJohnson?”
Wasthisfate?Ithoughttomyself.Itwaslikesomebodyjusthitmewithabrickor

kickedmeinthestomach.Icouldn’tbreathe.Icouldn’tthinkstraight.AllIcouldsee
washim.Tyler.Mybestfriendfromchildhood.Myfoster“brother.”

MyTyler.
No wonder I couldn’t find him when I looked for him. He went by T.J. Hunter. It

madesense,Iwantedtoerasemypast,too.Ididn’twantanybodytoknowwhoIwas
orwhereIhadcomefrom.Ishould’veknownhewouldbeastaroneday,too.Hewas
always special. Athletic. Fast. He loved football, too. He was always playing with his
friends, and when he finally saved up enough money to afford the fees and the
uniform,hehadplayedforthehighschoolteam.Iguesshehadmadethingshappen
forhimself.Hedeservedit.

Itookanotherlonggulpfrommyglassandrememberedsomanythingsabouthim.

I remembered sleeping in the room next to his and feeling safe just because he was
there.Irememberedthenightshehadsleptonmybedroomfloor,rightinfrontofthe
door, to make sure nobody else came in. Like Kordell who was another foster

“brother.” Tyler was one of the only people our foster father was ever afraid of. And
he’dbelievedTylerwhenhehadthreatenedtokillKordellifheeverputahandonme.

So,nowTylerwasoutthereatschool.Damn,itwasonlytwentymilesaway.Maybe

less.Ican’tbelievehehadbeenthatcloseforallthoseyears,andIneverknew.Ihad
thoughtabouthiminsomeofmyworstmomentsandwishedIcouldgotohimandbe
withhim.IwishedIcouldstillsleepatnightwithhiminmyroom,keepingmesafe.I
hadwishedforhimsomanytimes,evenwhenIdidn’tknowIwaswishingforhim.He
wastheonlypersonwhohadevermademefeelsafe,important,andbeautiful.Notjust
becausehewantedtogetinmypantseither,butbecausehegenuinelycaredandliked
me as a person. When was the last time somebody liked me as a person? I couldn’t
remember.Icouldn’trememberatall.Andthathurtworsethananyblackeye.

I heard Malik muttering in the bathroom and reality hit me in the face all over

again.WhowasI,anyway?AsluttyBlackgirlinashittylittleapartmentinthemiddle
ofnowhere,sittingonarattyoldarmchairwithducttapecoveringupthetearsinthe
fabric.Iwaswearingaworn-outpairofflannelpantsandaT-shirtsooldandfaded;I
couldn’tseeorrememberwhatitusedtosay.Iwasonmythirddrinkbeforesix-thirty
atnight.Ididn’tknowifIhadanythinginthekitchentoeatfordinner.WhyhadIlet
myselfgolikethis?

Andtherehewas.TylerJohnson.Hehadagoodlife.Heprobablygothimselfafull

college scholarship—he sure as hell didn’t have the money for tuition when I knew
him, once he had aged out of the foster system. He was fine as hell, too. Fine for no
reason,Iusetoalwayssay.Hehadalwaysbeenhandsomewhenwewereyounger,but
hewasgorgeousasanadult.Tall,broad,withdarkblondehairandasquarejawand
deep blue eyes. And that smile. Damn, that slick smile. Maybe even a little bit cocky
andfullofhimself.Icouldn’tblamehimforthat.IwouldbefullofmyselfifIhadtalent
likehis,too.

Imissedhimsomuch.It’sbeenyearsandIhadtogotohim.Ihadtoatleasttell

him what he meant to me when we were foster “siblings.” I needed to tell him how
happy I was for him. I wanted everything to be amazing in his life, because he truly
deservedit.

IneededhimtoremindmethatIwasagoodperson,still.Ineededhisencouraging

wordsandsupport,soIcouldgetmyselfoutofthetoxicworldIlivedin.Iwouldnever
getoutofitwithMalik.Malikwouldonlyeverpullmedown.Hewouldn’tmakeme
feelgoodaboutmyselfthewayTylerhad.

IwishedIhadalaptop.Malikdidn’tallowmetohaveone.ButifIdid,Iwould’ve

lookedupTylerandfoundoutwherehelived.Ihadtocomeupwithawaytofindhim.
Therehadtobeaway.AndmylifewouldbegoodagainbecauseIhadmybestfriend
backinmylife.Icouldn’twaittoreconnectwithhim.

Damn,ImissedTylersomuch.
He might have changed into a football star, but there were things that never

changedaboutaperson.Hewouldstillbethepersonheusedtobe.Iwassureofit.

“

T Y L E R

amn,baby.Thatwassogood,”Jamettamoaned,rolledoffmeandstretchedouton

herback.Shewasalittlesweaty—sowasI—andhergorgeouscarameltitsmovedup
anddownwiththedeepbreathingshewasdoing.Shewaspanting,anditmadesense,
sinceshehadjustgottendoneridingmycockinafrenzy.Herthickbrowncurlswere
spreadalloverthepillowunderherhead.

“Aperfectwaytostarttheday,huh?”Ipulledoffthecondomandtosseditintothe

wastebasketbythebed,thenstretched.Thequeen-sizedbedwasamess,butthenso
wastherestoftheroom.Brightsunlightfloodedtheroomandremindedmeofwhata
slobIwas.Well,thewomenneverseemedtomind.

Jamettagiggled.“Yeah.Alldaysshouldstartlikethat.”Sherolledtowardmeagain

andranherfingertipsovermychest.“Theycouldallbethatway,ifyouwouldjustget
overthisthingyouhaveaboutcommitment.”

Iknewshewasonlyhalf-serious,buttherewasstillthathalf.“OrmaybeIshould

stop giving you this,” I said, grabbing my dick through the sheet over my waist, “so
you’llgetoveritandstopnaggingmeaboutcommitment.”

“Can you blame me?” she asked, and her fingers trailed down my abdomen. “I’m

addictedto‘this.’Thedickismineandonlymine.”

IlovedwhenshetalkeddirtytomeandIfeltmycocktwitching—butIdidn’thave

thetimetofuckaroundagain.Notwithfootballpracticecomingupthatmorning.

“Whyareyouevenpracticing?”sheaskedwhenIexplainedandgotoutofbed.She

poutedwiththosethick,fulllipsofhersasshewatchedmegetreadyfortheshower.“I
mean,theseason’sover.”

“Wow,soyoudofollowfootball.”Iteased.
“Whatever,Tyler.YouknowwhatImean.”
“IhavetheCombinecomingupinamonth,andtheteam’sbeingniceenoughtolet

me practice to keep myself warmed up. It’s not just me, either. Brett and Jacob are
goingtotheCombine,too.”

“Andthat’swheretheteamsgetalookatyou,”shesaid.“Right?”
“Right. I see you’re catching on. Next thing I know, you’ll be explaining plays to

me.”

“That’llneverhappen.”Shegotupandstretched,anddamn,Icouldn’tkeepmyeyes

off her. Those huge tits, the tiny waist, the full hips and ass. She kept herself smooth

downthere,andIlovedthat.Ilovedlickingherpussyandsavoringhersinfullysweet
juices.

“Anyway, I need to stay in shape for the Combine, or else the trainers won’t see

whatIcandoandIwon’tgetdrafted.”

“Trust me. You’ll get drafted. It was just on the news last night! You’ll be just like

oneoftheplayersontheseposters.”Shewavedherhandaroundtothepostersallover
thewalls.Montana,Favre,Elway,Brady.Shepulledonherblackthong,thenthered
dressshewaswearingwhenwemetupattheclubthenightbefore.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Jametta. They’re not the trainers or the coaches.

They’rejustdoingtheirjobandreadingwordsoffascreen.It’snotthatdifficult.”

“Oh, word?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. I forgot she was a

broadcast journalism major. “Why do all you communication majors always act like
you’rehotshit.”

“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”Ilickedmylips.“YouknowwhatImean,baby.”
“Anyway,” she went on, “you know you’re gonna get drafted. You know it’s

practicallyasurething.Don’tpretendtobemodestnow,becausewebothknowyou’re
not.”

Her words were still in my head as I got in the shower. Did I know it was a sure

thing?Prettymuch.Iwasn’tdelusional.AndIwasnevertheguywhopretendedtobe
modest. I knew I was the best thing on the field no matter who we were playing. I
knew I would end up playing pro—I had to. It was the only thing I was any good at;
throwingafootball.

IwashedupquicklysinceIwasrunninglateandwasgladJamettawasgonewhenI

got back to my room. She was a beautiful and intelligent woman, but she knew the
deal. Our friends with benefits relationship satisfied us both, even if sometimes she
gave me shit about wanting to make us into something we weren’t. She knew I
wouldn’tchange.Goodthing,becauseshewasgreatinbedandanywhereelseIcould
get her clothes off. I would hate to say goodbye to that. It wouldn’t be long until she
wasblowingupmyphoneagain,wantingapieceof“this.”

I looked around my room for my car keys. I had to get a system in place. Maybe

whenIbecomearichNFLplayer,Icouldhireamaid.Ireallyneededone.IwishedI
could afford one just then. Maybe I’d be able to find my fucking keys. What did I do
withthemwhenJamettaandIgothomefromthebar?IwentthroughthebluejeansI
waswearingthenightbefore,thrownoverthedeskchair.TheonlythingIusedthat
chairforwastohangclotheson.NotlikeIneededmydesk.Thekeyswereintheback
pocket.

Ipickedmywaythroughthelivingroomandleftthehouse—noneoftheotherguys

inthehousewereanyneaterthanIwas.Theplacewasquiet,whichtoldmeeverybody
hadleftforpractice.Ihurriedoutthedooroftheramblingoldhousemeandsomeof
the other players on the team shared, and jogged over to my old Honda Civic. A real
pieceofshit,butitwastheonlythingIcouldafford.Itwasthenoisiestcaroncampus,
anditwastheugliestthingaround,butitgotmewhereIneededtogo.Welivedamile
fromcampusandthreemilesfromtown,sounlessIfeltlikespendingasignificantpart
ofmydaywalking,Ineededthecar.

“

ook you long enough to get here, bro,” Brett nodded at me as I walked into the

lockerroom.Howwasitpossiblethatitsmelledlikesweatanddirtysocksevenwhen
wehadn’tgottenstartedyet?Ishuckedoffmyclothesandgotmypadsandequipment
on.

“Yeah,well,Iwasbusy.”
“Weallknowyouwerebusy,”Jacoblaughed,rollinghiseyes.“Weheardyou.”
“I’mprettysurethegirlsdownattheendoftheblockintheDeltaMuhouseheard

you,too,”Brettadded.

“Thereyougoactingjealous,again.”
“Jealous?Ofwhat?”
“Yeah,becausenobody’severjealousofscreamingmoansechoingthroughoutthe

house,”Patrickpipedupfromtheothersideoftheroom.“‘Yes,Tyler!Fuckme,Tyler!’”

“WhatcanIsay?Iputitdown.”Ipulledonmyjersey.
“She’s a screamer, man. Not a man alive who doesn’t like a screamer. Can you

believesomegirlsactuallythinkit’sbettertobequiet?”Patrickasked.

“Seriously, it sounded like you were filming a porno in your room.” Brett clapped

meonthebackashepassed.“Luckybastard.”

“Alright.Chillout,”Igrowled,butIhadtolaugh.“LikeIneverhadtolistentoyou

guysbangingtheKappaAlphaThetagirls.”Wewerefootballplayers,forChrist’ssake.
We were pretty much walking aphrodisiacs. Chicks dropped their panties when we
werearound.

Iwentouttothefield.“Abouttimeyougothere,”Coachcalledout.“Iwasstartingto

thinkyoudidn’tcareifyoufellonyourfaceattheCombine.”

“Nah,IthoughtIwouldatleasttrytoimpressafewpeoplefirst.”Isneered.Heonly

shookhisheadatme.IwentthroughwarmupswiththerestoftheteamanddidwhatI
couldtogetmyheadintowhatmybodywasdoing.Itdidn’thelpthateverybodykept
bringing up the Combine. I knew it was coming. It was what I had worked for my
whole life—that and the Draft, which would never happen for me if I fucked up the
Combine. I didn’t just want to fall halfway through the draftees. I wanted to be first
round,andIcouldbe.Iabsolutelyplannedonit.

Getittogether,Iorderedmyself.Thatwaswhatseparatedmostfootballplayersfrom

therealgreats—beingabletogettheirheadintothegame.Beinganeliteplayertooka
sortoftoughness,notalotofpeoplehad.Thatwaswhytherewereonlyahandfulof
reallygreatquarterbackswhosenameshadsurvivedfordecades.Theyhadthemental
toughnessalongwithagoodarmandtheabilitytoreadthedefenseonthefly.

Where had my toughness come from? I asked myself that question all the time.

Sometimes other people asked me, too—like Brett asked me once when we were
drinkingbeertogether.HehadwantedtoknowhowIpushedmyselfashardasIdid
whenIseemedlikesuchalaid-backguy.ItoldhimaboutthewayIhadgrownup,in
and out of foster care, one home after another until it all blurred together. In those
days, I had needed to beat the hell out of myself to toughen up and get strong inside
andout.Itwaslifeordeathoutthere.Nobodygaveashitaboutme.Ihadtotakecare
ofmyselfevenwhenIdidn’twantto.Ididthingsbackthenthatmadegettingupatfive

inthemorningforaten-milerunseemlikeadayataspa.

Weranthroughafewbasicplays,withBrettatrunningbackasalwaysandJacobin

his wide receiver position. Brett’s feet were the fastest in the SEC—he flew downfield
afterIhandedtheballoff,waypasttherestoftheteam.Weknewjusthowfasthewas
andknewtheplaywewererunningandeventhefellasplayingdefensecouldn’tcatch
upwithhim.

“Lookinggood,Brett!”Coachcalledout,clappingonthesidelines.IknewBrettloved

tohearCoachpraisehimlikethat,eventhoughhepretendeditdidn’tmatter.Weall
pretendedlikethat.Whodidn’twanttolistentotheircoachtellthemtheyweredoinga
goodjob?Deepdowninside,itwasallanyofuswanted.Agoldstar.

Patricklookedovertothesidelinesbeforegettingreadytosnapbacktome.“Dude,

who’sthegirloverinthestands?”

“Damn,bro.Getyourheadinthegameandoffpussyforonce,”Ilaughed.
“No,really.Checkherout.Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenheraroundbefore.”
Ilooked.Shewasastranger,yeah.Hewasrightaboutthat.“Okay?Idon’tseewhat

the big deal is.” I brushed off. I couldn’t even see half her face, because of the big
sunglassesshewaswearing.Buttherestofherwasn’tallthatimpressive.Sheworea
baggyT-shirtandbluejeans.Herblackhairwasjaw-lengthandtuckedbehindherears.
Ididn’tknowifshewasoneofthenerdsfrommyschooloragroupie.

“Of course, you don’t see what the big deal is. You just got out of bed with a

screamerbeforeyoucametopractice.”

“Chillthefuckout,man!”Iglared.
“Callthefuckingplay!”Coachshoutedandtherestofthelinebrokeoutinlaughter.
Iwavedatthecoachanddidwhathesaid.Iknewbetterthantoscrewaroundwhen

hewasinthatkindofmood.Weranadrawplay.Iwastornbetweenwatchingitunfold
andwatchingthegirlinthestands.Whowasshe?Shedidn’ttakenotes,soshewasn’ta
news reporter—and she didn’t dress like one, either. Not even close. Reporters were
usuallyahellofalotcuterthanher.Shelookedroughandsloppy.

Theskyhadcloudedover,too,butshewasstillwearingthosesunglasses.Whatwas

herstory?

“Are you with us? Hey! Tyler! Or should we just call practice now and get it over

with?”

“No,I’mfine.Sorry.”
What the hell was wrong with me? Even I wanted to punch me in the face right

about then. Everybody was cool enough to come out to keep the three of us
conditioned,andIwasbeingaspaced-outprick.

Afteranothertwohours,Iwaswornout.Weallwere.Andwewerestartingtogeta

littlepissy,too.“Okay,okay.You’reobviouslyfinishedouthere,”Coachsaid,clapping
hishandstobringustogether.“Hittheshowers.Getyourshittogether.Getoutofhere.
I’llseeyouforworkoutstomorrow.”

I was in a shit mood when I hit the shower. I didn’t let anybody know, but I was

hardestonmyself.Always.IhatedthewayIcouldn’tgetittogetheroutthere.Ihated
thatIdidn’thavethedisciplinetokeepmyheadinthegame.Itwasrare.Butthatsort
ofbullshitwouldkeepmeoutofthepros—or,maybeevenworse,onthebenchinthe
pros.Icouldn’timagineanythingworsethangettingdraftedbutnotlivinguptowhat

everybodyexpectedofme.

“Bro.Youallright?”JacobaskedwhenIgotbacktothelockerroom.Thesmellof

sweatmadealotmoresenseattheendofpractice.Iwrinkledmynoseagainstit,even
thoughitwasoneofthemostfamiliarsmellsofmylife.Ifinishedtowelingoff,nodding
myhead.

“I’mfine,”Itossedmytowelasideandstartedgettingdressed.
“Ifyouneedanything…”
“I said I’m fine, Jacob. Thanks.” The thing was, I didn’t need anything. Unless he

couldgivemeperspectiveandfocus,whichhecouldn’t.“Weallhaveouroffdays.”

“Wedo.”Henodded.“Whydon’tyoujustchillouttoday?Doyouhaveanyplans?”
Ishookmyhead.“Nah.IthinkI’lljustchillout.Maybegoforarunlater.”
“Cool. Well, I’ll see ya at home then.” Jacob left, which meant I was alone. All by

myselfinthemiddleofanemptylockerroom.

Itwasjustapractice.Footballpracticedidn’tmeanshit.Butthefreighttrainonits

waydownthetrack,headingstraightforme,meantahellofalot.Combine.Everylittle
mistake,everslip-up,meantahellofalotmorejustthen.Ionlyhadfourweeksuntil
Indianapolis.UntilIhadtofigureouttherestofmylife.Everythingwashangingonit.I
wouldprobablygetalotworsebeforeIgotanybetter.

I was still thinking about it as I walked down the long, tiled hall with its dingy

fluorescent lighting. The walls were covered with photos and awards. Like a Hall of
Famewall,sortof,andalloftheschool’smostfamousplayerswerethere.Iwantedmy
photo up there. It would be, no matter what—everybody knew I was one of the top-
performing quarterbacks in the school’s history. I couldn’t stop there. That wouldn’t
givemeafuture.

The sky was even darker with large, almost black clouds rolling in. It sort of

matchedmymood.Iloadedmygearintothetrunkandhadtoslamthedamnedthing
twicetogetittoclosealltheway.Cooloff,ItoldmyselfasIfoughttheurgetopuncha
hole through the window. Was I going to end up as one of those poor assholes who
neededmedicationtokeepthemselvescalm?Thatwasn’tme.Thatwasn’tthekindof
personIwas,anditsureashellwouldn’tworkon-field.

“Hello.”
A girl’s voice made me jump a little. I turned around and saw the girl who was

sittinginthestandsduringpractice.Irememberedthatoldmoviefromtheeighties,or
wasittheseventies?Theoneabouttheguywhoplayedbaseballandastalkershothim
andruinedthingsforhim.Hecould’vebeengreat,butshemadeitsoheneverwould
be. And I read that it was a true story, or based on one. I thought about that when I
lookedather,standingbymycar.Shehadwaitedthatwholetimeforme.

“Hi. Can I help you with something?” I knew it was just the two of us out there.

Everybodyelsewasgone,evenCoach.Iaskedmyselfwhyagirllikehermademefeel
so nervous. She was just a girl, for Christ’s sake. Just any ordinary girl. Maybe it was
howintensesheseemed.Shewastotallyrigidlikehermuscleshadgonehard.Inoticed
shewasevenshakingalittlebit.Likeacrazyperson.

“Youdon’tknowme?”Itcameoutasawhisper.Somethinginthebackofmymind

toldmeIdidknowher,butIwasn’tquitesure.ThatwaswhyIcouldn’tstoplookingat
her during practice. That was why I couldn’t get my head straight when we were

playing.

Itwasher.
BecauseIknewherfromsomewhere.
“IfeellikemaybeIdo,”Iadmitted.“ButIcan’tquiteremember.Sorry.”
Sheslidthesunglassesfromherface.Shehasflawlesschocolateskin,andluscious

thick lips, but that’s when I saw it. The black eye. She had tried to cover it up with
makeup, but there was only so much she could do with it. I wondered what bastard
gaveittoher.

ThenIsawhereyes.Iknewthosemesmerizingbrowneyes.
Iknewher.
Ithadbeen…shit,fiveyears?
ButIknewher.
“DejaJones?”Iasked.Itcameoutasahalf-laughbecauseIcouldn’tbelieveititwas

Deja.Afterallthattime.

Shebeamed.“Youdoremember.Iwasscaredyouwouldn’t.”
“Idon’tknowwhattosay,”Ibreathed.
“I’vemissedyou.”
“Damn,I’vemissedyou,more.”

D E J A

ewasthere,rightinfrontofme.Andherememberedme.Ihadtornmyselfapart

duringpracticebecauseIfinallyfiguredhemightnotremembermeafterfiveyearsof
neverseeingeachother.AfterdrivingouttherewitheverythingIownedinthebackof
mybeat-upChevroletImpala,andallthemoneyIhadinanenvelopeinmypurseafter
Icleanedoutmybankaccount,itwouldhaveprobablykilledmeifhedidn’tremember
me.

Buthedid.
Tyler opened his arms, and I walked into them with tears in my eyes. Somebody

whoknewme.Somebodywhocaredaboutme.Itseemedlikehemightstillcare—he
lookedlikehedid.Hissmilewasgenuine.Ihadseenenoughfakeonesinmylifetotell
thedifference.

Andwhenhehuggedme,itwastight,comforting,andsecure.Hesmelledsogood,

too. Fresh out of the shower. I took a deep breath to pull some of his scent into my
nose.IwishedIcouldstaythatwayforever.

“Deja,howdidyoufindme?”heasked,squeezingmeinthosestrongarmsofhis.
“IsawyouonTV,”Isaid,andIpulledaway,eventhoughIdidn’twantto.Ineeded

tobeabletolookintohiseyes.Healwayshadthosehypnoticdeepblueeyes.Good—he
wasn’tfreakedout.Hedidn’tthinkIwasastalker,groupieoranything.

“What?Onthenews?”
“Yeah.Lastnight.”
“Wait?Youlivearoundhere?”
Iwasn’tsurehowtoanswerthatquestion,sinceIdidn’tmeantoevergobackthere.

Notever.“Aboutahundredmilesaway,maybe.”

“Andyoudroveallthatwaytoseeme?”
“Well,totellyouthetruth…”Ileanedagainsthiscar.“There’smoretoitthanthat.”

Ididn’twanttolayitalloutlikethatrightaway.Ididn’twanttoscarehimoff.Itwasn’t
howIhadplannedthingsinmyhead.I’dbeenupallnight,thinkingthingsoverwhileI
packedmybags.IfinallydecidedafteralotoffightingwithmyselftotellhimIneeded
achangeinmylife,neededtodobetter,andthatIwasthinkingaboutgoingtocollege.
Thatwasbullshit,ofcourse.Icouldn’taffordschool.Itwouldbeawasteoftimeevenif
Ihadthemoney.Buthedidn’tneedtoknowthatrightaway.

“I thought there would be.” I heard his stomach growl, and we both laughed.

“Damn.Ineedtogetsomethingtoeat.Ididn’thavetimebeforepractice.”

“Youpracticedlikethat,andyoudidn’thaveanythingtoeatfirst?”Iputmyhands

onmyhips.“Areyoucrazy?”

He laughed again. “You’re still like my mom, you know that? You were always

telling me what to do.” His expression changed a little. His eyes got dark. He wasn’t
happytoseemeanymore.Iknewthatwouldhappen.Iknewafterthinkingaboutitall
night that he must have put everything from the past behind him—or that he was
tryingto.Hedidn’tneedthereminder.AndthereIwas.Thereminder,rightinhisface.

“Well,ifyou’rehungry,youshouldgoeat.”
Iwasscrewingitallup,justlikeIalwaysscrewedeverythingup.Ididthattomyself

allthetime.Ihadallthesebigdreams,allthestuffIimaginedhappeningacertainway,
and I managed to mess up one way or another. Every single time, it was the same
thing.Iwasdoingitagain.Makingafooloutofmyself,andnothavinganywheretogo
withallmyshitinthebackofmycar.AllbecauseIthoughtIhadthecouragetotell
himImissedhimandwantedmybestfriendback.

“Ididn’tmeanyoucouldn’tcomewithme,”hereplied.Whenhetalkeditfeltlike

thedarkcloudsoverheadhadpartedandtheangelssang.Hewasn’ttryingtogiveme
thebrushoff.

“Oh,mybad,”Ilookeddownatmyclothes—theonlycleanonesIhadtowearwhen

I left, but even I knew they weren’t nice. When was the last time I had nice clothes?
Maybenever.“Ilookahotmess.I’mnotreallydressedtogoout.”

“Toadiner?Hell,toadrive-thru?Idon’tcare,aslongasit’sfood.Besides,youlook

fine,”hebithisbottomlip.

Igrinned.“Okay.Whereto?”
“Followme.There’sagreatplaceafewmilesdowntheroad.”Igotintomycar,a

fewspotsdownfromhis.Onethingwehadincommonwashowshittyourcarswere.I
had expected him to drive some flashy luxury vehicle, the kind celebrities did
commercialsforonTV.Thenagain,itwasn’tlikehehadanymoney.Hehadn’tsigned
onwithaproteamyet.SoIdidn’thavetofeeltooembarrassedwhenIslidbehindthe
wheelofmybeaterwithonebackdoorpanelthatdidn’tquitematchthecolorofthe
restofthecar.

Itwasashortdrivetoadineroutsideoftown.Thewallswerechrome,sothewhole

placeshinedeventhoughitwasgettingdarkeroutbythesecond.Thewindstartedto
pickupasIrantothedoors,andtheskyopenedupjustaminuteorsoafterweboth
madeitinside.

“Perfecttiming.”Tylergavemeaplayfulhigh-five.
Icouldn’ttakemyeyesoffhimaswewaitedforatable.Thegirlbehindthehostess

stand recognized him right away. She giggled and flirted with him. I simpered and
playedwithmyhair.Shewascuterthanme,butIcouldtellhedidn’tcaremuchabout
her. He was only being polite. That was who he always was, the sort of guy who just
wantedtobepolite.Heneverwantedtohurtanybody’sfeelings.

Washejustbeingpolitetome?
Wegotaboothandsatdownacrossfromeachother.Ituckedmypursebetween

meandthewall.Icouldfeelthethicknessoftheenvelopeinside,anditremindedme
ofhowIwasbasicallycarryingmyentirelifearoundinthere.Thethoughtmademy

handsshake.

“Dotheyhaveabarhere?”Imurmured,lookingthroughthemenu.
“What?”Tyler’slaughmademycheeksburnred.
“Abar.I’malittlenervous.”Igiggled,wavingitoff.“It’sjustsuchabigdeal,seeing

youafterallthistime.Ican’tbelieveI’mnervousoveracornballlikeyou.”

“Stillcallingmecornball,huh?”Hegrinned.“Andno,there’snobar.”
“Oh.It’sallgood,”Myhandsshookworsethanever.IknewIshould’vetakenasip

ortwofrommyflaskofHennessybeforeIgotoutofthecar,butIdidn’twanttorisk
himsmellinganythingonme,sinceIcouldn’texplainthataway.“I’lljusthavetosettle
foricedtea,then.”

IfTylerthoughttherewasanythingweirdaboutit,hebrusheditoff.
“So, really. You saw me on the news and decided to come looking for me? Is that

reallywhathappened?Itjustseemssortofsudden,youknow?”

“Yeah,well,it’snotlikeIhadmuchholdingmebackwhereIwas,”Iadmitted.
“How long were you gonna visit? Or was this just like an overnight stay kind of

thing?” Was he already trying to get me out of there? I felt uncomfortable again and
reallywishedIcouldgetaslugortwofrommyflask.Itwasstillhalf-full,thelasttimeI
checkedit.

“I’mnotsure.Ican’tlietoyou.Ireallydon’tknow.”Thewaitresscame,whichgave

us an excuse to change the subject. She had big, teased-out hair and a bright pink
million-dollar smile. Her name was Dottie. Dottie’s eyes immediately fell on my
sunglasses, and I knew she knew why I was wearing them. Sometimes it was like I
couldhearwhatotherpeoplewerethinking.Theydidn’tneedtosayaword.Allthey
neededtodowaslookatmeacertainway,awayIwasusedtohavingpeoplelookat
me,andIwouldknow.

“I’ll take a double burger, medium-rare, with the works. Fries. A half-dozen

scrambledeggs.Anorderofbacon.Andachocolatemilkshake.”

MymouthhungopenafterhearingTyler’sorder.Ilaughedandsaid,“I’lljusthavea

tunaclub.”

“I’m used to his orders,” Dottie said, winking at him. “I’ve always said it’s our

milkshakesthatkeephimwinningtitles.”

Wewerealllaughingalittlewhenshewalkedaway.
“So,youcomeherealot,then?”Iasked.
“Iusedtoworkhere.”
“Youdid?Forhowlong?”
“Two years, before I became starting QB. Even then, I worked here over the

summer.”

“That’scool.Icantellthewaitresslikesyou.”
“Yeah,it’saprettyniceplacetowork.”
“Iguessithelpswhenyou’resortofafootballstar,too,”Iteased.
“Thereyougoagain.Youcan’tletup.”Hebithisbottomlip.
“Well, you are a star. I mean, damn, I see you on the news, everybody in here

cheesesatyouandnodslikeyou’rethenextbestthingwalking.AndafterIsawyouat
practice,IguessIcanseewhy.”Irememberedthewayhelookedwhenheplayed.He
wasmagicoutthere.HehadconfidenceIcouldn’tdescribeifIworkedatitfortherest

ofmylife.Hemovedlikewater.Helookedupanddownthefieldlikeheownedit.And
Icouldtellhisteammateslovedhim,too.Itwasonlyapractice,butIgotaprettygood
ideaofwhohewasinjustthosefewhours.

“Thatwasn’tevenagoodpractice.”
“Itwasn’t?Wow.ThenIguessI’dliketoseeagoodpractice.”
“Youneverwatchedanyofmygames?”
Ishookmyhead.“Nothingpersonal.Ineverlikedfootballverymuch.Basketballis

moremything.”

“Iremember.Youalwaysfoundsomethingelsetodowhenthegamewason.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to talk about that. “I mean, if I knew you were playing, I

would’vewatched.Ididn’tknowyouchangedyournametoT.J.Hunter.”

“I didn’t totally change it. I just changed my middle name to my last name. Tyler

JohnsonHunterorT.J.Hunter.”

“Ah.Ineverthoughtofthat.So,isthenamechangeanewstartforyou?”
“Iguessso.”Helookedalittleuncomfortable.Ididn’tmeantomakehimfeelthat

way.MaybeIwasalittlejealoushegottostartoverinlifeandIneverdid.

“What about you?” he asked, but the food came and changed the subject again.

Thank God. I wasn’t ready to talk about me, even if I was the reason I came here. I
deeplywantedmybestfriendback.Ijustdidn’tknowhowtotellhimthatIdid.

Itwasincrediblewatchinghimeat.Heshovedfriesinhismouththreeandfourata

time.His burger was sothick—with lettuce, tomatoes, onions,and pickles, plus a few
slices of bacon he put on there himself—he could barely get his mouth around it. I
pickedatmysandwich.Ididn’tknowwhattosay,andtherewouldn’talwaysbeaway
tochangethesubject.

Ilookedoutthewindow,whereitwaspouringraininsheets.
“I’vealwayslovedwhenitrainslikethis,”Isaid.
“Iremember,”herepliedoveramouthfuloffood.
“Whatelsedoyouremember?”
“Irememberlotsaboutyou,Deja,”Hesuckeddownsomeofhischocolateshake.
What girl wouldn’t be flattered by something like that? A man like him,

remembering me. What was so special about me that he would remember me? I
wasn’tanybody.Hewastheonewhowassomebodyspecial.

“Like?”Iasked.
“Justalot.Idon’tknow.”Heshruggedandwentbacktoeating.
“Excusemeforasec.”Igrabbedmypurseandwenttothebathroom.Ineededthat

flask.Itwasburningaholeinthebag.Icouldn’tgetitoffmymindlongenoughtohave
aconversation.AndIneededsomethingtobuckmeupalittle.Alittlecourage.Ihadto
havecourageifIwasgoingtodowhatIneededtodo.

WhatifTylerdidn’twanttocatchupandbelikeitwaswhenwewerekids?Whatif

hewastoobusyformeandsawmeonlyasthe“past?”Ilookedatmyselfinthemirror
andcouldseemycheeksturningredunderneathmybrownskinwhenIrealizedIwas
stillwearingthosetackysunglasses.AndheneveronceaskedwhyIwaswearingthem
inside, which told me he knew why. I had shown him my eye when we were in the
parkinglot,soheknewwhatwasup.

Ipulledoutmyflaskandtookadeeppull.Iclosedmyeyes,lettingtheliquorslide

downmythroat.Ihadneverbeenmorerelievedinmylifetotakeadrink.Itwaslike
drinking water when I was dying of thirst. I took another drink and forced myself to
closetheflaskandtuckitbackintothebag.

Ipulledoffthesunglassesthenandtookalookatmyeye.Whatajoke.Mymakeup

had faded a little, so I took the compact out of my makeup bag and put a little more
overthebruise.Myhandsweresteadyagain.Hennessyneveronceletmedown.

IwishedIhadstoppedofftogetabetteroutfitbeforeImetupwithhim.Ilooked

likeasloppytwo-dollarhoeonlaundryday.MybaggyT-shirtdidn’tevenfit,andmy
jeans were hopelessly out of date. I couldn’t remember when I’d bought them. He
lookedincredibleinafittedtee,whichaccentedhisstrongarmsandjeansthatshowed
off his tight butt. His skin was pale, but lightly tanned and smooth, and his muscles
bulgedjustabouteverywhere.

Ibrushedmyhairandputonalittleburgundylipgloss,carefulwiththesorelip.I

could’ve killed Malik for doing what he did to me. Well, I would never give him the
chance again. He would never make me feel like I was less than anybody else. That
much,Icoulddoformyself.

I went back out there with my shoulders back and sat in the booth, then took a

quicksipofmyicedteatocoverupanythingonmybreath.Anoldtrickofmine.Iused
itatworkallthetime.

“So,let’scuttothechase,Deja.Whenareyougonnatellmewhat’shappeningwith

you?”heasked.“YoukeepchangingthesubjectandIknowsomethingisup.”

Iwouldneverhaveabetterchance.“Sinceyoumentionedit...”Iclearedmythroat.

“I’msortofbetweenplacestoliverightnow.Ileftmyshittyapartment,mystrungout
boyfriend,andmyeightdollarsanhourjobtodayandI’mnevergoingback.”

T Y L E R

almostchokedonmyburger.“Youwhat?”

She nodded. “I left everything today, and I’m never going back there again. I just

can’t.Pleasedon’tmakemegoback.Allmyshitispackedinmycar.”Hervoicewasa
whisper.

“Deja… that’s not up to me.” I forgot about my food—well, it was almost gone,

anyway.“Imean,Idon’thaveanythingtodowithanyofthis.Ican’ttellyouwhatto
do.”

“Iknow.Iknow.”Shedidn’tlooklikesheknewthatatall.Shelookedterrified.
“What’s really going on? And don’t tell me you walked into a wall.” I touched my

fingersjustbelowhereye.

“Iknowyouwouldneverbuyastorylikethat.”
“Nobodydoes,”Iadded.“It’stheoldeststoryinthebook.”
“Iguessitis.”Shetookadeep,shakybreath.“Well,Iguessthere’snotmuchtosay.

I’vebeeninandoutofbadrelationshipseversinceIturnedsixteen—youremember
myfirstboyfriend.”

“DeMarcus?Yeah,Irememberthatfuckingpieceofshit.”
“IwishIhadtakenyouradvicebeforeyouleft.”
Irememberedgivingherthatadvice,too.ItoldherwhatapieceofshitIthoughthe

wasbackthen,andIguessedIwasn’twrong,judgingbythelookonherface.Iwanted
toputhimthroughawallforwhateverhehaddonetoher.

“It’s been pretty much the same since then. Five years of no good men, over and

over. This last one was the worst, but I have only myself to blame for not choosing
better.”

“Andit’soverbetweenyouandthelastguy?”
“Well,it’soverforme.Idon’tknowhowhefeelsaboutit.”
Inarrowedmyeyes.“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“ItmeanshewaspassedoutwhenIleftthismorning.”
“You left when he was passed out? He didn’t know why you were leaving or

anythinglikethat?”

“No.Imean,Iwrotehimanoteandtoldhimnottobotherlookingformeandthat

I’mdone.Butthat’sit.”Herfingerstappedonthetabletop.“Ididn’twanttorisktalking
tohimaboutit.”

“Becauseof…”Itouchedhereyeagain.
“Right.Thatwasjustyesterday.”
Iwasstartingtogetanideaofthebigpicture.HehadbeatenDeja,thesonofabitch,

andthenshe’dseenthestoryaboutmeonTVandshethoughtIwouldhelpherifshe
asked me to. Well, the thing was, I wanted to. I would kill that fucking bastard for
hurtingherthewayhehad.Hedidn’tdeservetolive.MyhandscurledintofistswhenI
thoughtaboutit.

“Whataboutyourjob?Yousaidyouleftthat,too?”
She nodded. “I worked at the supermarket. Check out girl. Not like I was going

placesorbringinginthedough,youknow?”

“Didyougraduatehighschool?”Ihatedtobesoblunt,butitseemedlikeIneeded

to.

“Yeah,barely.Iwasreallydepressedmysenioryear.”
“I know,” I sighed. “I remember you used to tell me all the time. I felt like shit

becauseIdidn’tknowhowtomakeyoufeelbetter.”

“It’sokay.That’sthepastnow.Whataboutyou?”
“IgotaCaverageandluckilyitwasenoughtokeepmyscholarship,”Iadmitted.“I

workedmyassoff.Itwasn’teasy.”

“You’vealwaysworkedforthethingsyouwanted,”sheremindedme.“Younever

tooktheeasywayout,andyouneverblamedanybodyelsewhenthingsdidn’tgothe
wayyouwantedthemto.”

“Hangonaminute.”Iheldupahand.“Don’ttrickyourselfrightnow.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“You’retalkingaboutmelikeI’m…Idon’tknow…aheroorsomething.I’mnota

hero.I’mnotanybody.I’mjustme.”

“Iknowyouare.”
“Ijustdon’twannafoolyouoranything.”
“Iknowyou,”shesaid.Itsoundedsosimple.Sheknewme.Andshedid.Well,she

knewwhoIusedtobe.NotwhoIwantedtobe,whotherestofthepeopleIknewsaw
meas.Ihadtomakesureshegotthatstraight.

“Soyouwalkedawayfromeverything,then?”
“Allofit.”
“Well,I’mproudofyou.Notmanypeoplewoulddothatandwouldhavejustsettled

forthatlife,despitebeingmiserable.”

She sneered. “I’m not a hero, either. Far from it. If I was a hero, I wouldn’t have

stuckaroundinbadrelationshipaslongasIdid.”

Isighed.“Idon’tknowanythingaboutit,butIknowitcan’tbeeasytoleave.That’s

all.”

Shebitherbottomlip.“Thankyouforthat.”
“Forwhat?”
“Fornotmakingmefeelstupidforstickingaround.Ialreadyfeellikeshitfordoing

soandit’sembarrassingknowingIhadbarelyenoughself-worthtoleavehimearlier.”

“Dopeoplecallyouthat?Stupid?”
“IknowafewwhowouldtellmehowstupidIwasforsure.”
“That’s all people can sometimes do. They don’t know how to get through to a

personwhoputsthemselvesthroughshit,sotheytrytogetthroughbybeingassholes.
Whoaretheytojudgewhenweallhaveissues,youknow?Nobodyisperfect.”

“Andyousaidyouweren’tsmart.”
“Well,Itookacouplepsychologycoursesacoupleyearsback.”Iwinked.
“Ifyouweretheonewhoknewme—like,ifyousawmewiththisafewtimes...”She

touched the bruise, which I could see she had tried to cover up with even more
makeup in the bathroom. “If you saw this and you knew how unhappy I was, what
wouldyousaytome?”

I didn’t have to think long about it. “I would tell you you’re worth more than the

bullshityouwereputtingupwith.Iwouldtellthatyoudeservealotmorethanthat.
Youdeserveeverything.You’retoobeautifultobewiththesefuckinglosers,Deja.I’m
serious.”

Our eyes locked on each other for a long time. Deja still had the same stunning

browneyes.Buttheyweresadeyes.Tiredandscaredeyes.Shesighedandchewedthe
insideofherlip.Icouldtellsomethingdeeperwasgoingon.

“Idon’tknowwhattodo,”sheadmitted.“I’msofuckedup.Icameouthereinhopes

of restarting our friendship and ask you what I should do, and you don’t even know
anythingaboutmylife.Wehaven’tseeneachotherinfiveyears,andIcametoyouto
askwhatIshoulddo.I’mpathetic.”

“For one, you’re not pathetic,” I told her. “You just had some bad luck and made

somebadchoices,isall.That’slifeforyou,right?”

“Sometimeswemakeourownluck.Imean,whatdoyousayaboutapersonwho

keepswalkingintothesamefuckedupsituationoverandoveragain?‘Oh,shehaslow
self-esteem.’Or‘Oh,shedoesn’tloveherself’.”

“Iwouldsaythatpersonwassearchingforloveinallthewrongplacesbecauseshe

neverknewwhatlovewas.”

“You’vealwaysbeengoodtome,Tyler.You’retoonice,”shesaid.
“Isn’t that what you came out here for? So, somebody would be nice to you for

once?”

She grinned, shaking her head. “What would the rest of your team think if they

heardyourightnowbeingallsoftandsweet?Ibetally’alltalkaboutistitsandassin
thelockerroom.”

I looked away when I remembered that my teammates and I had been talking

aboutitjustthatmorning.Shegiggled.“See?IseeyoursmileandyouknowI’mright.”

“We’remen,Deja,”Ichuckled.“ButIbetthey’reallnicetotheirgirlfriends—orthe

girlsthey’resleepingwith,anyway.”

“Areyouthatwaytothechicksyousleepwith?”sheasked.Shewasteasing.That

meant she was in a better mood. I guessed she felt better getting everything off her
chest.Icouldn’timaginewhatitmusthavefeltliketocarryallthatheavystuffaround
withher.

“Theyalwayswantmore,ifthat’swhatyou’reasking.”
Sheblushedandbitherbottomlip,thenlookeddownatherhalf-eatensandwich.“I

see.”

Icouldn’thelpseeingDejaasthekidsheusedtobe.Ithadbeen,what,fouryears

thatwelivedtogetherwiththeMcGregors?Shewastwelveyearsoldwhentheagency

“

placedmethere.Shehadalreadybeenthereforayearbythen.Shewasskinnywith
big brown eyes and an even bigger smile. Her knees were boney and she had kinky
blackhairthatshealwayskeptinapoufyponytail.Iusedtopullthatponytailallthe
time, whenever she walked past, or I walked past her. It became a sort of thing
betweenusandmywayofshowingherthatIlikedher.Untilonedayshehadturned
aroundandpunchedmerightinthemouth.Thatbustedliphadn’tbeenalotoffunto
dealwith,especiallyoncemybuddiesfoundoutagirlgaveittome.

She wasn’t that kid anymore, and neither was I. But I was starting to wonder if it

waspossibletoeverstopbeingthatkid.Becausetherewassomuchaboutme,thatwas
still that lost, angry, frustrated boy. I never saw it until just then, when she sat there
smilingwithahalf-eatensandwichinherhands.

“Where are you staying?” I asked. “Are you just passing through, or were you

planningonstayingnearby?”

Shelookedawayagain,andIknewthatlooksowellitwasalmostfunny.Ihadseen

thatshifty-eyedlookeverytimeshedidsomethingshedidn’twanttogetblamedfor,
likedrinkingallthemilkorusingthelastofthehotwaterintheshower.Herbrown
eyeswouldsortofslidetotheright.Sometimesshewouldbiteherbottomliplikeshe
didjustthen,too.

“Youdon’thaveanywheretostay,doyou?”Iasked.
“No.”
“Well,doyouwanttostaywithme.”
Shepaused.“Idon’tknow.Iprobablyshouldn’t.”
“Whynot?”
“I’mnottryingtodisruptwhateverisgoingonwithyourlife.”
“Nah,you’regood,Deja.Juststaythenight.”
Shetookadeepbreath.“Okay.Icandothat.”
“ButIlivewithabunchofmyteammates,though,”Iremindedher.
Shesnickered,tiltingherheadtotheside.“And?I’msurethat’sneverstoppedyou

fromhavingachickspendthenightbefore.”

Icouldn’targuewiththat.

hisisnice.”Shestoodinthemiddleofthelivingroomandlookedaround.

“Oh,comeon.”
“I’mforreal!It’sreallynice.BiggerthananywhereI’veeverlived.”
I believed that. “Yeah, me too, until I moved in. But it’s not like I have the whole

housetomyself.Myroomismine,butIshareallthiswiththefellas.”

“Guysfromtheteam,right?”
“Right.”
“How many of you are there?” She frowned as she took in the sight of the pizza

boxesandemptybeercansonthecoffeetable.Thenicehardwoodfloorswerecovered
inclothes,footballequipment,textbooks,andsneakers.

“Four,total.”
“Four?” Her eyes widened. “Dang. It looks like the entire football team lives here.

Yourcribisahotmess,Tyler.”

“Yeah,Iknow.”Ihadneverfeltembarrassedaboutthewaytheplacelookedbefore.

Whydidn’tIcarewhenJamettawastherejustthatmorning?

Oh, shit. Jametta. My bedroom was still a mess. There was still a used condom

sitting on top of the other stuff in the wastebasket. “Uh, gimme a sec, Deja. I wanna
cleansomethingsupinmybedroom.”

“What?Dirtyunderwear?”
“No.”Iscowled.
“Achick’sunderwear?”sheguessed,sittingdownonanearbychairamused.
“No.Just…hangoutdownhereforafewminutes,okay?”
I ran up before I heard her answer and went straight to my bedroom. Yup, the

condomwasrightthere.Shewould’vehadalottosayaboutthat.Therewereclothes
everywhere,justthewaytherehadbeenthatmorning.Ikickedthemallunderthebed
and shoved a handful of trash on top of what was already there to hide the condom
untilIhadthechancetoemptythebasket.ThenIopenedthewindowstoairtheroom
outandstrippedthesheetsoffthebed.Iwouldhavetodolaundryforthefirsttimeina
longtime.ThethingsIwentthroughforafriend.

WhenIwentdownstairswithmyarmsfullofbedding,IheardDejalaughingwith

Brett.“AndthentherewasthetimeIbustedhislip.Itoldhim‘touchmyhaironemore
time!’”

“Oh,Jesus,”Igrumbled.
“Agirlbustedyourlip?”Brettaskedwithalaugh.
“Tylertriedtotellpeoplehegotitatfootballpractice,”shegiggled.Icouldtellfrom

the way Brett laughed that I would never hear the end of it. Just what I needed,
somebodywhoknewmethewayDejadidwhoalsolikedtotellstoriestoguyswho’d
bustballsoverthelittlestthing.

Atleastitwasonlyforonenight.

D E J A

twaslikeawholenewworld,beingtherewithTyler.

IusedtowatchshowsonTVallthetimeaboutkidswhowenttocollegeandlived

togetherinahouseliketheoneheandhisteammateslivedin.Theyallhadfascinating
lives and got into all kinds of drama, usually about sex or at least dating. I used to
imagineIwasoneofthekidsonthoseshows,withalifethatwasnothingliketheoneI
knew.

AndtherewasTyler,livingthatlifeforhimself.Iwashappyforhim,reallyhappy.
“Hey, Deja. You want a drink?” His friend, Brett, was fine, too. Tall, golden blonde

hair,withgreeneyesandawickedsmile.Hewasthesortofguywhogotintotrouble,
but could always get out of it because he was so damned charming. I just got the
feeling.

“Doyouhaveanyofthehardstuff?”
“Mykindofgirl.”Henodded.“Sure,comewithme.”
IthoughtIcouldlearntolikeBrett.Ifollowedhimintothekitchen,whichwasjust

asmuchofamessasthelivingroom.Thesinkwasfullofdishesandreallyneededa
goodscrubbingout.Thefloorhadallsortsofspillsthathaddriedintoastickymess.I
wonderedifanyofthemhadeverlearnedhowtotakecareofthemselves,butdecided
they hadn’t. At least Brett used a plastic cup when he poured me a drink—no way
would I take one any of them had washed. They probably rinsed them once and put
themawayagain.

MyeyeswentwidewhenIsawhowmuchtheyhadjustlayingaround,untouched.

Rum,Scotch,bourbon,tequila.

“Justavodkaontherocks,”Isaid,sittingontheonlychairthatdidn’thavestuffall

overit.Whatabunchoffuckingpigs.Howdidanyofthemevergetlaid?Anditwas
suchabeautifulhouse,too—old-fashioned,withlotsofcarvedwoodatthebaseboards
andaroundtheceilings.Thebanistergoingupthestairswaswood,too,andhadlittle
grapesand leaves carved intoit. Some people justcouldn’t appreciate the nice things
theyhad.

“So,howlonghaveyouknownTyler?”Brettasked.Iwasadmiringhischiseledbody

andalmostforgottoanswer.

“Uh, let me think. Nine years? But really only four. It’s been five since I last saw

him.”

“Really?Andyoujustcameoutheretofindhimtoday?”Hehandedmethedrink,

andItookalonggulptosteadymynerves.

“I’mjustpassingthrough,”Imuttered,lookingdownintothecup.
“Oh. That’s cool. I’m glad you came to visit. I never heard anything about Tyler

whenhewasyounger—youknow,thekindofkidhewas,thestuffheusedtodo.We
all tell stories about what life was like when we were kids. I grew up on a farm.” He
shrugged,leaningonthecounterashedidwithadrinkofhisown.

“Henevertellsyouy’allanything?”
“No. I used to wonder if Tyler just came out of nowhere from another planet or

something.He’sprettyhush-hushabouthischildhood.”

Isnickered.“Nah.Tylerwasakidandapainintheass.”
“Whichiswhyhegotabustedlip.”
“Exactly.”
Brett seemed like he didn’t care very much why I was there, after all. Sort of a

happy-go-luckyguy.Thatwasgood.IcouldseewhyTylerwouldbefriendswithhim.

Tylerwalkedintothekitchen,andIcaughtthefunnylookhegavemewhenhesaw

whatIwasdrinking.“Alittleearlyinthedaydon’tyouthink?”hemutteredtoBrett.

“Ah,hell,whatever.It’stheweekend.Wealwaysgetalittlecrazyontheweekend.”
Tyler didn’t respond. He looked at me. “Sorry, this place is such a mess. I guess a

womanseesitdifferentlythanwedo.”

Ibrusheditoff.“It’swhatever.You’reniceenoughtoletmestaythenight,soIdon’t

haveanyrighttocomplain.”

“Well,thatneverstoppedanygirlbeforefromstayingthenight!Right,Tyler?”Brett

laughed and his eyebrows shot up. I felt my cheeks go red. “Shit. I shouldn’t have
blurteditoutlikethat.”

“No, no, I don’t care. I just thought it was interesting.” He looked at Tyler with a

sneeronhisface,andIcouldtellthetwoofthemwouldhavewordslater.Iwondered
whatwashappeningthere.Then,ithitme.MaybeTylerhadagirlfriend,andnevertold
me.

“We’rejustfriends,Brett.Tylerislikemybrother,”Isaid,andIhopedIcouldhelp

him save a little face. Why would he want to be with a chick like me, anyway? He
probablysleptwithgirlswhohadtheirshittogetherbutknewhowtopartywhenthey
feltlikeit.Girlswhohadafuture.

God,whatthehellwasIdoingthere?Istuckoutlikeasorethumb.
“Oh,Iknow,Iknow,”Bretttriedtosaveface.“Ijustdidn’tknowtherewasgonnabe

aguest.Idon’tusuallygetadvancewarning.”

“Oh, and like I do?” Tyler shot back. “Please. I usually know you have company

whenIhearhergigglinginyourroom.”HeglanceddownatBrett’scrotch,thenback
upathisface.“Istheresomethingweneedtoknow,buddy?”

IgiggledlouderthanIshouldhaveandfeltmycheeksreddenagain.Brettlaughed,

too,whichtoldmehewasagoodsport.“Webustballslikethisallthetime,”hesaid
withashrug.“Youshouldhearitwhentherearen’tgirlsaround.”

“No,Idon’tthinkIshould.”Igiggledagain.Itwassocool,beingtherewiththem.I

couldalmostforgetwhatIhadleftthatmorningwhenIdroveawayfromtown.

Buttherewasnowaytoforgetit,andassoonasIthoughtaboutMalikandwhathe

musthavebeenthinkinganddoingjustthen,Ifeltthesmileslideoffmyface.Idrained
mycupandhelditout.

“CanIhavealittlemore?”Iasked.
Brettshruggedandpouredmeanotherdrink.Tylerlookedalittleconfused.Maybe

a little disappointed. If he had a problem with me drinking, we were going to have a
fewthingstotalkover.Ifeltmyirritationrisingeventhoughhehadn’tsaidaword.But
hedidn’tneedtosayanything.Isaweverythinghewasthinkingonhisface.Hewas
always an open book and he was judging me. Just another person judging me.
Meanwhile,Ihadnoticedthosebeercans.Thoseboysknewhowtothrowthemback;I
wassureaboutit.Hehadnoroomtotalk.Fuckinghypocrite.

“Youokay?”Brettasked.“Youlooklikeyouwannaripsomebody’sheadoff.”
Ilaughedalittle.“I’mfine.Yourheadsaresafe.Fornow.”
Brettchuckled.“Ilikeyou.You’regoingtofitinjustfine.”
“Deja?Youwantmetohelpyoubringyourthingsinfromthecar?”Tyleroffered.

“It’sprobablyabetterideathanleavingitoutthere.”

“That’sagoodidea.”IfinishedoffthedrinkBretthadjustpouredandfollowedTyler

outtothecar.

“Wow.Youdon’thaveallthatmuchhere,”Tylersaid,frowningagain.
That was all I needed to hear. “Okay. What’s your fucking problem?” I asked.

“You’reright,Idon’thavealotofshit.And?”

“Itwasjustanobservation,Deja.”Hepulledasuitcaseandatrashbagfromtheback

seat,andIpulledouttwomorebags.“Didyouonlybringthenecessities?”

Irolledmyeyes.“No,Ididn’tbringnecessities.Ibroughteverything.”Idroppedthe

bags to the ground. “Any more questions? You don’t have to make me feel like shit,
Tyler.Youhaveawayofmakingmefeellikethebiggestfuckup.”

“Ido?”
“Doyoureallythinkit’sthatweirdthatIdon’thavealotofbelongingstorunaway

with?Behonestwithme.Thinkaboutmylifeandtellmeyouthinkit’sweird.”

Helookeddownattheground.“You’reright.Thatwasadickthingtosay.”
“Yes,Itwas.Anditwasadickthingtolookatmelikethatinthekitchen.Likethere

wassomethingwrongwithhavingadrinkintheafternoonwhenthere’sfuckingempty
beercansalloveryourhouse.”

“Ijustthoughtitwas…different.That’sall.”Hepickedupmythings,andIfollowed

him back into the house. I knew there had to be people looking—I hadn’t been
whisperingonthesidewalk—butthereweren’tanyfacesvisibleinthedarkwindowsof
theotherVictorian-stylehousesupanddowntheblock.Whatitwouldbeliketoliveon
astreetlikethatallthetime.Itwassoquietwithtreesandbirdssingingandthesortof
stuffIusedtoseeonlyinmovies.

“Different?” I asked. We walked upstairs with my belongings. I shook my head

whenIsawhowstrangelycleanthebedroomlookedandknewwhyitlookedthatway.
Iwould’vebetallthemoneyinmypursethathehadshovedeverythingunderthebed.

“Ijustwonderedifyouwereallright.Doyoudaydrinkalot?”
“Daydrink?”Ilaughed,rollingmyeyes.“Whatabasicthingtosay.”
“Excuseme?”
“Basic. Day drinking. It’s called ‘drinking’ where I come from, Tyler. That’s it. It’s

nothingfancyorspecial.Andyes,sometimesIhaveadrinkwhenI’msupernervous.”

“Likethewayyouwantedtobackatthediner.”
“Right.”
“What are you so nervous about here?” He sat on the chair in front of the desk,

backward,withhisarmsaroundtheback.

“Areyoukidding?Let’ssee.I’mwithaguyIhaven’tseeninfiveyears,somebody

whoalwaysprotectedandcaredformewhenwewerekids.Butwe’restrangers,and
everythingabouthislifeisbetterthanmine.”

“Don’tsaythat.”
“It’sthetruth,Tyler.Let’sjustfaceit.Youliveinthisnicehousethatyoutreatlike

shit,bytheway.You’reacollegeboy.Yourememberwhatwethoughtaboutcollege
boyswhenwewerekids.Theythoughttheirshitdidn’tstink.”

“Yeah,Irememberthat.”Hedidn’tlooktooproudofhimselftorememberit,either.
“Iknowyoudon’tfeellikethatanymoresinceyou’reoneofthem,butthinkabout

howitfeelsontheoutside.You’rebetterthanme.”

“Chill,Deja.I’mnotbetterthanyou.”
“Youreallybelievethat,don’tyou?”Hehadtotallyforgottenwhatitwasliketolive

thewayweusedtolive.Orhepretendedtoforget.

“Ido.Iusedtofeelthewayyoujusttalkedabout.Likepeoplewerebetterthanme

becausetheygrewupdifferentthanIdid.Andsometimesthoseoldfeelingsstillcome
out.”

“Sorry.”Ishookmyhead.“It’sjustbeenalongdayandIdidn’tmeantolashoutat

you.”

“No need to apologize. You just need to realize that you’re not the only one who

didn’t have a cookie cutter childhood,” he explained. “Funny, because I would never
admitthattoanybodybutyou.Wedon’texactlytalkaboutourfeelingsaroundhere.”

“IguessIshouldfeelspecial,huh?”
“Youshould.”Hebeamed.“Becauseyou’respecialtome.Youalwayshavebeen.”

“

T Y L E R

henmyroommateJacobcamehome,thefirstthinghedidwaslookatDeja’sblack

eye. We were hanging out in my bedroom, talking about the old days back in foster
care—something I didn’t exactly like doing, but there was a comfortable feeling to it.
He came to the door to say hi and took a look at her. I knew he and Brett had been
talking.

WhenIsawwherehiseyeswent,Ishookmyheadbehindherback.AtleastBrett

hadn’tbroughtitup.Hehadalittlemoreclassthanthat,whichwasn’tsayingtoomuch
sinceBrettdidn’thaveatonofclass.

“So,”hesaidinatoo-cheerfulvoice.“DidyouhearabouttheDraftcomingup?”
“Sure,Idid.”Dejabeamed.“IneverthoughtIwouldseethekidIgrewupwithon

hiswaytothepros.”

“Oh,comeon.IbetTylerwasprettygood,right?”
Jacobsatonthebed.Ireallywishedhewouldn’t.IfeltlikeIwantedtocrawloutof

myskinwhenevertheytalkedaboutthe“olddays.”TherewasareasonwhyInever
talked about those times with the fellas. They were obviously dying to hear things
aboutme.Ididn’tknownottellingthemanythingaboutmypastwouldcomebackto
bitemeintheassoneday.

AtleastitwaseasiertofieldthatthantofigureoutwhattosaytoDeja.Iwantedto

knowmoreaboutthatboyfriendshetoldmeabout.Iwantedtoknowifhewouldlook
forher.Hadshetoldhimwhereshewasgoing?Wouldheknowwheretofindher?Did
she take anything of his that he would come after? Did she maybe need to go to the
hospitaltolookatanythingelsehedidtoher?

How could I ask her those questions without making her shut down? She didn’t

wanttotalkabouthim.Oranythingaboutherlife,really.AndIdidn’twanttospeakof
thepast,whichwasallshewantedtogoover.Itseemedlikeaworseideaallthetime,
askinghertostaythenightwithme.

Atleastitwasonlyonenight.

herewillyousleep?”Ihadjustmadeupthebedforher,andshewassittingcross-

leggedinthemiddleofit,wearinganotheroldT-shirtwithapairofflannelpants.

“I’lltakethefloor.”Ibrusheditoff.Nobigdeal.Ipulledanextrablanketortwoout

of the ball in the bottom of my closet floor—I really, really needed to start doing
laundryontheregular—andspreadthemoutnexttothebed.

“Thatdoesn’tseemfair.Icamehereforyoutohelpme,andnowI’mmakingyou

takethefloor,eventhoughyou’redoingmeafavor.”

“It’s cool. It’s just for one night, anyway.” She got quiet when I said that, which

mademethinktwice.Whydidshegetsoquiet?Ilookedupandsawherplayingwith
thebedspread.

“Yeah.Still,Ifeelbad,”Dejareplied.
“It’s fine.” I pulled a pillow off the bed and tossed it to the floor. I was wearing

boxersandaT-shirt—morethanIusuallyworetosleep,butIdidn’tthinksheneeded
toseemenaked.Ihatedsleepingwithclotheson.ButthethingsIwoulddoforanold
friend.Morethanthat.Anoldsister.

Iturnedoffthelightandsettledinonthefloor,whichwasaboutascomfortableasit

sounded. There wasn’t even any carpeting over the wood. I sighed, though I did my
besttokeepitquiet.Ididn’twantherjumpingtoanyconclusionsjustbecauseIsighed.

“Youknowwhatthismakesmethinkof?”Sheasked.
“What?”
“Backinthedaywhenyoucampedoutonmybedroomfloor.”
“Holy shit. I forgot all about that.” And I had. How could I have forgotten it? The

wayheusedtolookathersometimes.Thewayheusedtohangaroundherbedroom
dooratnight.Igotuptotakeapissonceandsawhimstandinginfrontofherclosed
bedroomdoor,allthelightsoffinthehallway.Likehewastryingtodecidewhetheror
notheshouldgoin.Itwasn’taquestionofrightorwrongafterthat.Isleptonherfloor
forweeks,untilhegottheidea.

“I’llneverforgetit,”shereplied.“ThatwashowIknew.”
“Knewwhat?”
Iheardhershiftinbedandturnedmyheadtothesidetoseeherproppeduponone

elbow, looking down at me. “That I could always trust you. You’re the one person in
mylifeI’vealwaysknownIcouldtrust.”

“You’reright.Youcantrustme.”
“Youdon’tknowhowmuchitmeans.Really,youdon’t.”Shelaidbackdownwitha

sigh.“Ineverknewtherecouldbeatrustworthyman.Ididn’tknowtherewassucha
thing,honestly.”

“Not even your father?” I knew she’d lived with him until she was in first grade

when he got killed during a hold-up. He was the one doing the holding up, and the
ownerofthegasstationkeptashotgunbehindthecounter.

“No,notevenhim.Myfatherwasnotagoodman,”sheshookherhead.
“Helovedyou,right?”
“Sure. But I couldn’t even trust him to keep himself alive for me. And I guess my

mothercouldn’ttrusthim,either.Hewassupposedtotakecareofus.Shecouldn’tdoit
onherown.”

Iwonderedwhatthatmusthavefeltlike,knowinghermothercouldn’ttakecareof

her—or that she didn’t want to. It was different for me. My parents died. They didn’t
haveanysayinthematter.Buthermothergaveherupandranoff.Dejawouldstillcry

sometimes when I first met her, all alone in her room at night. Especially on her
birthday.

“You’retheonlymanIcouldevertrust.Youalwayskeptmesafe.”Itcameoutasa

half-whisper, and I knew she was falling asleep. Good, because I didn’t think I could
taketoomuchmoreofMemoryLane.

Butitwastoolate toshutmybrain off.Ilaidtherefor hoursonmyback, fingers

lacedbehindmyhead,staringupattheceilingasIrememberedallofit.Everything.
AllthethingsIhadworkedsohardforsolongtopushdownuntiltheyweren’tpartof
meanymore.

henIwokeup,itwasalreadymid-morning.Ihadtobeinforworkoutsatnoon,so

itwasn’tabigdealthatIhadsleptin.

Ipushedmyselfupoffthefloor,groaning.Everymuscleinmybackhadlockedup

overnight.Myshoulders,too.ItwasunbelievableIhadn’tgottenanysleepatalluntil
the early hours of the morning between the way my brain worked overtime and the
hard,coldfloorunderneathme.

Thebedwasempty.
I looked around. Did Deja leave without saying goodbye? No, she couldn’t have

pulledthatoffwithoutwakingmeup—andherbelongingswerestillthere,too,inthe
cornerofthebedroom.Shit,shemusthavebeenaloneallmorningwithnothingtodo.
Ifeltlikeanassforlettingmyselfsleepsolate.

I went out to the hall, and the first thing I smelled was bleach. “What the hell?” I

exclaimed, and as I walked to the bathroom, the stronger the smell got. I found out
whywhenIwalkedin.

“Holy fuck.” I turned a full circle, eyes wide. The bathroom sparkled from top to

bottom.TherewasevenanewcurtainandlinerinthetubthatIrememberedbuying
and tossing it under the sink to assemble one day. The toilet, too. I felt torn between
gratitude and embarrassment. It must have been her. It had to be. Nobody else
would’vescouredthebathroom,asmuchasithadneededtobedone.Thebestweever
managedwas“presentableforcompany.”

AfterIhadwashedupalittle,Iwalkeddownstairs.Therewasthatsmellagain,just

asstrongasbefore,alongwiththesmellofpineandlemon.Thewindowswereopen
and the curtains were pulled back, letting the fresh breeze in. I couldn’t believe my
eyeswhenIsawhowcleanthelivingroomwas.Notatraceofanythingthathadbeen
therewhenwewenttobed.Eventheshoeswerelinedupagainstonewall.Thefloor
had been swept, the throw rugs vacuumed, everything was dust-free. How early had
shewokenup,anyway?

IfoundDejainthekitchen,hummingaway.Shehadalreadywashedupeverything

inthesinkandputitaway,scouredthecountersandsinkandstove.Shewasworking
onemptyingthefridgewhenshelookedupandsawmestandingtherewithmymouth
hangingopen.

“Whatareyouon?”Ilaughed.
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Shegiggledandranherforearmoverherforeheadto

wipeawayalittlesweatthatwasbeadingupthere.

“I mean you have to be on speed or something if you got all this done in a few

hours.”

“I’vebeenupsincefive,”sheexplained.“Igetupatfiveeverymorning.Iusually

openthesupermarket.”

“Oh,Isee.But,Jesus,youdidn’thavetodoallthis!Whatgotintoyou?”
Shebrusheditoff.“IjustfeltlikeIowedyousomethingforlettingmestay.Besides,

this place reeked like a locker room. You won’t believe some of the science
experiments growing in the back of this refrigerator.” She grimaced as she tossed a
Chinesetakeoutcontainerintothetrashbagbyherfeet.

“You’re incredible. I can’t thank you enough for this. It’s a little embarrassing,

actually.Imean,youcleanedthebathroom.”

“Tyler,” She leaned on the open refrigerator door. “I had no choice. It was either

cleanitorneveruseitatall.”

“Itwasn’tthatbad.”
“Please. How any of you ever get laid is beyond me.” She bent back down behind

thedoor.

“Well,Iappreciateit,Deja.”Ileered.

thought about that on my way to the gym, the way she had put her heart into

cleaning for us. She really didn’t have to. Nobody would have expected it. The other
fellashadjustaboutdroppeddeadofsurprisewhentheycamedownstairsandsawour
housetransformedforthebetter.

We talked about it as we worked out together. The whole team was there in the

facilitiesjustoffthelockerrooms.Itsmelledlikesweatandhardworkinthere,andthe
sound of laughing and ball busting carried over the sound of workout machines
hummingasweworked.

“I’m just saying,” Jacob panted in between breaths as he ran on the treadmill, “if

she’sgonnadoourhouseworkforus,shecanstayaslongasshewants.”

“Agreed,”Brettadded,runningnexttoJacob.“Imean,thathousehasneverbeenso

clean.”

“Doessheworkforotherpeople,too,orjustyouguys?”somebodyaskedfromthe

otherendoftheroom.Icouldn’ttellwhowithmybacktothem,butIthoughtitwas
Max,oneofthejuniorsonthebackupsquad.Iwasbusydoingpulldownsononeofthe
othermachines.

“Shedoesn’tworkforus,”Isaidbetweenreps.
“Is she staying long?” somebody else asked. I wished they would mind their own

fuckingbusiness.

“No.Shewasonlysupposedtostayforonenight.”Icaughtaglimpseinthemirror

ofBrettandJacoblookingateachother.

“Wannatellmewhatyoutwoaresmirkingabout?”Iasked.
“Nothing.”
“Fuckingpussies.”

Brettlaughedandsloweddowntoawalktocooloff.“Listen.Idon’tcareifshestays

forawhile.”

“Me,neither,”Jacobsaid.
Patrickchimedinfromhisspotononeoftherowingmachines.“Shit,shecanstay

foreverifshekeepsthehouseclean.”

“She’s not a fucking maid and I’m not trying to get her to stay. I’ll help her find

somewhereelsetogo.Helphergetbackonherfeet.”

Itwasuncomfortable,havingDejasoclose.Ididn’tlikethewayitfeltwhenshekept

wantingtobringuptheshitthathappenedinthepast.AndIdidn’tlikethemknowing
somuchaboutme,either.

“Listen.”Jacobfinishedhisrunandwalkedovertome.Hekepthisvoicelow.“We

all know the story, bro. That black eye she’s got. If she’s running away from her
boyfriendorwhatever,wewannahelpherout.”

“Iwanttohelp,too.”Ifinishedmysetandturnedtohim.“Ijustdon’twanttoput

youguysoutofthehouse.I’llfindherajobsomewhereandaplacetolive.Igotthis.”

“That’scool.I’mjustsaying,itdoesn’thavetobetodayifitcan’tbetoday.Relax.”
So I relaxed as much as I could until I finished my workout, then took a quick

showeranddressedasfastasIcould.IhatedthinkingaboutDejaatthehouseallby
herself. She had to be bored out of her mind—how much could she really clean,
anyway?

foundoutwhenIgothomeandsawmyroomlookingspotlessandbetterthanitever

had.“Ican’tbelieveyoudidmyroom,”Isaid,andIjustaboutwantedtomeltintothe
floorboards.Icouldn’timaginewhatDejamusthavefound.

Sheonlygiggled.“It’sallgood.I’mexhausted.Ididtwoloadsofyourlaundryand

putthemaway.There’sanotherinthewashandanotherinthedryer.”

“Damn,woman!”
Shefloppedbackonthebed.“Iowedyou.Idon’thavemoneytopayyouforletting

mecrashsoit’stheleastIcando.”

“Well,Ithinkyoupaidmebackbynow.Please,stop.It’scool.”
“Okay.”Shelookedupatme.“So,Iguesswe’dbettertalkaboutwhathappensnow.”
“Whathappensisyoutakeashowerandchillouttherestoftheday,andItakeyou

todinnertonight.Nothingspecial.”

“Soundsgoodtome.Thankyou.”
“Noproblem.”Istretchedoutonmysidewithmyheadproppeduponmyhand.
“Ihavetofindaplacetostaytonight,”shesighedandturnedherheadaway.
“Why don’t you just stay here for the night? I talked to the guys earlier, and they

saidyoucouldstayaslongasyouneedtountilwegetyousettledsomewhere.”

“Really?”
“Yes.Besides,Ithinkyouimpressedthem.”
“Impressedthem?How?Iwasn’ttryingto.”Shesnickered.
Iwassureshewaslying,butIwasn’tgoingtocallheronit.“Iknow.Eitherway,you

did,soitworksout.Andwe’llfigureoutwhattodoforyouafterthis.”

“Thankyou,Tyler,”shethrewherarmsaroundmeandpressedherbodytomine.

That wasn’t comfortable—not because I didn’t like it, either. I did. A little too much,
actually.Ihadtopullmyhipsawayfromhersoshewouldn’tfeelwhatwashappening
belowmywaist.

“Onething,”shesaidassheletmego.
“What?”
“Ican’tletyousleepontheflooreverynight.”
Igulped.WhatdidDejaexpectfromme?Thatwewouldsharemybed?NotthatI

would’vebeenagainstthatinanyothersituation,butthiswasdifferent.“Okay…”

“I’lltakethecouch.”Shegrinnedknowingly.“Getyourmindoutofthegutter,boy.”
Igotupwithalaughandgatheredthetopofthetrashbagshehadusedtothrowout

mygarbage.Icaughtsightoftheemptyvodkabottleontopoftherestofthegarbage
and remembered how it had been more than half-full when Brett poured for her the
daybefore.

D E J A

fterthat,wesortofdevelopedaroutine.Theguyswouldgotoclassduringtheday

—I noticed Tyler didn’t really care very much, but that wasn’t a big surprise.
Everythingwasaboutfootballforhim.Iwouldlookforjobswhiletheyweregone,but
it wasn’t easy to find one since I didn’t want to put the supermarket down as a
reference. I had been there for over two years and was on my way to becoming a
managerwhenIleft,butIdidn’tdareletanybodycallthemforfearthatMalikwould
findoutwhereIwassomehow.Knowinghim,hewouldaskaroundifanybodyheard
fromme.

Without references, there wasn’t much of a chance of getting anything decent. I

thoughtaboutitonenightaroundaweekafterIhadcometotown.Ilovedbeingthere
withTyler—wehadalotoffundoingnothingatall—butIcouldn’tstayforever.Draft
Day was all anybody could talk about, besides the Combine. It would only be a few
weeks until he left for it, and I wanted to be out of his hair by then. I couldn’t hang
aroundforever.Hewasaboutreadytomoveonwithhislifewithoutme.

Ihatedtothinkofitthatway,butthatwashowitwas.Hewasalwaysonhiswayto

somethingbiggerandbetter.AndIwasalwaysstuckinthesameplace.Ihadalready
said goodbye to him once when he left the foster home we’d shared. Once Draft Day
cameandwent,hewouldbeonhiswaysomewhereelse.Withoutme.Again.Imust
havetoldmyselfamilliontimesinthefirstweekIwastherethatIcouldn’tletmyself
getattachedtohim,butitwastoolateforthat.Iwasattachedtohimthedaywemet
whenIwastwelveyearsold.

“Hey.” Tyler walked up the path leading from the sidewalk and joined me on the

steps.Hewasjustcomingbackfromalateclass.Thesunhadalreadyset—itwasstill
winter,evenifitneverfeltlikewinterinFlorida—andIwasjustwaitingforhimtoget
hometostartdinner.Ihadsortofbecomethecookforthehouse,too,sinceitwasthe
leastIcouldgo.

“Hey.”
“Youlookdown.What’sgoingon?”Henudgedme.
“I was just wondering how I’m ever gonna find a job when I can’t give the

supermarketasareference,”Iexplained,andhenodded.

“Ididn’tthinkaboutthat.”Helookedoffintothedistance,thinking,andIwatched

him from the corner of my eye. He was so gorgeous, so perfect. It made my heart

flutterjustsittingnexttohim.

“What do you think about working at the diner?” he asked. “Have you ever done

anythinglikethat?Waitressing,Imean?”

“No,butIcouldlearn.I’mnotinapositiontobepicky,rightnow.”
“I’llvouchforyou,”heoffered.“Thatshouldbeenough.AndDottie’sasuckerfor

me.”

“I noticed.” I felt hopeful again. He always made me feel hopeful, like there was

somebodyouttherewhocouldtakecareofme.“It’llbegoodonceIknowI’llbeableto
getoutofhere.”

Hechuckled.“What’sthatsupposedtomean?Arewethatbad?”
“No.Butyouhavebigthingscomingup,andIwanttobeoutoftheway.Imean,

I’mhappyforyou,butIcan’tlivehereforever.You’regonnagowhereveryougo,and
I have to go somewhere, too.” I wished I didn’t sound so sad when I said it. I didn’t
wanthimtoknowhowIfelt.Itwasembarrassing.

Webothsatthereinsilence,andIwonderedifherememberedthelasttimewesaid

goodbye.Itwasoneoftheonlythingswehadn’ttalkedaboutsinceIgotthere.Hehad
warmed up a little bit to talking about our past over a week of being together, which
wasgreat,buttherewasstillonethingwehadn’ttouchedon.Ifeltithangingbetween
us.

“Areweevergonnatalkaboutit?”Iaskedhimaswesatthereontheporch.Ididn’t

lookathim.Iwastooafraidto.

“Aboutwhat?”
“Youknow.”
Hestiffenednexttome.ThatwasalltheanswerIneeded.“Whydowehaveto?”he

asked.

“Becauseweneverdid.Imean,youleftthenextday.”
“Iknow.”
“Imean,Itoldyou…”
Hestoodupandbrushedoffthebackofhisjeans.“Yeah,well,there’snoreasonto

gointoanyofthatrightnow,isthere?It’sbeenfiveyears.Alotofshithappenedsince
then.We’redifferentnow.”

“Iknow.”Ionlywishedheknewhowhewasbreakingmyheartjustthen.Maybe

hewouldstoptalking.Maybehewouldn’tturnawayfrommelikehewasashamedto
lookatme.

“So why did you mention it?” He was looking down the street, away from me. I

wished I could die right there. What a stupid thing for me to do, bringing up what
happenedthatnight.

“Iguesstalkingaboutthepastgotmethinking,isall.”
“Yeah, well, I stopped thinking about the past a long time ago. Maybe it would be

betterifyoudid,too.”Hewentinsideandclosedthedoorwithabang.Iwrappedmy
armsaroundmyselfandwishedIcouldstopshaking.

ItwasoneoftheonlybeautifulmemoriesIhad,andhewantedtotakeitawayfrom

me.Hewantedtopretendithadn’thappenedatall.Icouldneverpretendthat.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the pillar at the end of the wooden

railingrunningthelengthoftheporch,lettingmyselfdriftaway.

Itwasthenightbeforehewassupposedtoleave.Iknewhewasmovingoutthenext

morning and there was nothing I could do about it. It had been harder than I thought,
listeningtohimgettinghisthingstogetherintheroomnexttomine.Itoldmyselfnotto
listen,butitwasimpossible.Ineededtobenearhim,eveniftherewasawallbetweenus.

WhatwouldIdowhenhewasgone?CouldIkeepMcGregorawayfromme?MaybeI

couldrunaway.ThatwaswhatIneededtodo.Runaway.Ormaybe,ifIaskedtheright
way, Tyler would take me with him. I didn’t know where he was going, but I would do
anythingifhewouldjustletmegoalong.

Hewouldn’t.Iwaskiddingmyself,andIknewit.Ispentthedayinbed,cryingonand

off.NobodybotheredtofindoutwhyIwouldn’tleavemyroom.Theywouldhaveneeded
tocareaboutmetoask,andtheyjustdidn’t.

By eleven o’clock, my eyelids started getting heavy. I knew I would have to say

goodbye to Tyler, but didn’t know how. It had to be perfect. I had to make sure he
remembered me. Should I tell him I loved him? Should I kiss him? It would be the only
chanceI’deverhave,soIwantedtotakeadvantageofit.Thenagain,ifherejectedme,I
wouldn’tbeabletolivewithmyself.Ididn’twantthelasttimehelookedintomyeyesto
beawkwardordistant.

Aknockatmydoor.Imadesuremycheeksweren’twetandpulledtheblanketsupto

my chin in case it wasn’t Tyler. McGregor wouldn’t dare come in while Tyler still lived
there…wouldhe?No,andhewouldn’tknock,either.

“Whoisit?”
“Me,younerd.Iwantedtosaygoodbye.”Myheartclenched.
“Come in.” I grabbed a book off my nightstand to make it look like I was reading

insteadoflyingthereinapooloftears.

“Whatareyoudoing?”heasked.Heclosedthedoor,thensatontheedgeofthebed.I

satupwithmybacktothewall.

“Readingforschool.”
“What’sthebook?”
MycheeksburnedasIshowedittohim.LadyChatterley’sLover.CouldIhavemaybe

pickedabetterbook?Onethatwasn’tfullofsex,maybe?

“Oh.That’skindofhot.”Tylersneered.“Ihadtoreaditlastyear.”
“Howdidyoumakeitthrough?It’ssoboringinbetweenthesexstuff.”
“Iflippedthroughtheboringpartsandaskedoneofthegirlsintheclasstocatchme

uponthepartsinbetween.”

“Ibetshedidmorethanthat,”Iteased.Icouldalmosttastemyjealousy.
“Nah,neverthat,”Helookedaroundtheroom.“It’sgonnabeweird,notcominginhere

forourtalksanymore.”

“Iknow.”Ihadlookedforwardtoourtalkswitheverycellinmybrainforfouryears.

Evenwhenweweren’tgettingalong,wewouldstillsitandtalkafewtimesaweekabout
all sorts of stupid shit. Whatever came to mind. It was better than hanging around the
house,listeningtoMcGregordrink,curse,andfightwithhiswife.

“WhatareyougonnadowhileI’mgone?”heasked.
“I’llsurvive.”Ishrugged.“Ididitwhenyouweren’there.I’lldoitagain.”
“But it’s different now,” he reminded me. Like I needed him to. I wasn’t a little girl

anymore.Iwassixteen.Ihaddevelopedintoawoman.Ihadboobs,hips,andanass,and

McGregor looked at me funny whenever he got the chance. I hid out in my room a lot
becauseofthat.Hehadnevertouchedme,andIknewjusttellingasocialworkerthathe
looked at me funny wouldn’t get me anywhere. So I removed myself from his presence
wheneverIcould.

“There’s a lock on the door, and I have a phone in here. I’ll call the cops if he even

breathestooheavyinthehallway.”

“Goodgirl.”Tylerlookeddownatthefloor.“IguessI’llmissyouorsomething.Idon’t

know.”

My heart swelled. “I’ll miss you, too.” I could only whisper. I was too choked up to

speak.

Hiseyesmetmine.“Yeah?”
“Ofcourse.”
Wesatthereforalongtime,justlookingateachother.Icouldn’tbreatheandIwas

sureTylerwouldbeabletohearmyheartpoundingawayinmychest.Iwassurprisedhe
didn’tputhishandsoverhisearstoblockoutthesoundofit.Theairintheroomcrackled
withelectricity.

Herestedhishandonmycalve,undertheblankets.Thenitclimbedalittlehigher…a

littlehigher…andstill,neitherofussaidaword.Wejustlookedintoeachother’seyes.I
wanted to drink him in. I wanted to hold him with me, right there, forever. It felt like a
dreamwascomingtrueasheedgedalittleclosertome…alittlecloser…beforelong,we
werejustafootorsoawayfromeachother.Iheldmybreath.IwassureIwouldpassout
beforeanythinghappened—ifanythingwasgoingtohappen.

“IwaswonderingifyouwouldmindifIkissedyou,”hemurmured.Hisdeepblueeyes

moved down to my mouth, which was open so I could get in even a little bit of air. My
heartjustaboutstopped,andIshookmyheadtoshowthatIwouldnotmindatall.Not
onebit.

Hisfacecamecloser,andIheldmybreathsolongIwassureIwouldpassout,but

thatfirstmomentwhenourlipsmetwasmagic.Completemagic.Iwassuretherewere
bellsringingandfireworksgoingoffsomewhereinmyhead.Hislipswerefirm,butsoft.I
followedhisleadashepartedhislips.Ipartedmine.Histonguesweptalongmybottom
lip,andImoanedalittle.Myeyesflewopen,eventhoughwewerestillkissing.Hedidn’t
seemtomindthatImoaned.Infact,hekissedmealittleharder.Iclosedmyeyesagain.

My arms slid around his neck as he lowered me to the bed. Yes, this was what I

wanted. It was what I had always dreamed of. Being in bed with him, with his body
pressed against me and our mouths together, tongues touching and thrusting against
each other and the heat between my thighs just about ready to kill me. I was wet,
throbbing.IhadmadeoutenoughtimeswithacoupleofboysI’dsort-ofdatedtoknow
whatwashappening.Butwehadalwaysstoppedbeforetheywentintomypanties.

Hepushedhimselfupononearm,lookingdownatme.“Isthisokay?”hewhispered.

His mesmerizing blue eyes were so sincere. I could feel how much he cared for me. He
wasn’tonlylookingforsomefuninthesheets.Hereallywantedthingstobeniceforme.

“Yes.”ItwasallIcouldthinktosay.Icurledmyhandaroundthebackofhisneckand

pulledhimdownforanotherkiss,evendeeperthistime.Hegroanedalittle,andIfelthis
cockhardenunderhisshorts,pressingagainstme.Itwaslikesomethingoutofadream.
Hewantedme.Hewasinbedwithme.Itwasjustus.

Hishandranovermybody,andIwassureIwouldgooutofmymindwithjoywhen

he did. He cupped my breast through my nightshirt and I groaned, wrapping one leg
aroundhis,rubbingitupanddownashemassagedme.Hisbreathwasheavier,faster,
andhishipsmovedjustalittleashestartedtogrindagainstme.Knowinghowhardhe
wasandhowhornyIwasmakinghimjustgotmewetter.IwassureI’dsoakthroughmy
panties.

Iranmyhandsoverhisbroadshouldersandarms.Ihadwantedtotouchhimforso

long. I had imagined it, dreamed about it, fantasized. When we were younger, and he
would cry at night, I used to imagine holding him. Sometimes it hurt, not being able to
love him the way I wanted to. He was the only person in the world I did love. I let him
knowitthen,maybenotbywords,butinthewayIheldthebackofhisheadandranmy
fingersthroughhisdarkblondehairashekissedmyneck.InthewayIwrappedmyarms
aroundhimandIstrokedthebackofhisneck.

Heranhishanddownmysideuntilhereachedthemiddleofmythigh,wherethehem

ofmynightshirtfell.Iheldmybreathagain.

“CanI?”hebreathedthroughraggedgaspsforair.
“Yes.”Iclosedmyeyesandfeltarushofheatthroughoutmybodyashishandslidup

undermyshirtandovermyskin.Itwasheavenly.Ipressedmyfaceagainsthisneckto
hidethegroanIcouldn’tholdinside.

“You’resobeautiful,”hemurmur,andhishipsmovedharder,faster.Hewashumping

me,Irealized.Ilethimdoit.Hishandreachedmybreast—thefirsttouch,andIalmost
shotoffthebed.

“Tyler!”Imoaned.Itwasn’tthefirsttimeIevergotfeltup,buttherewassomethingso

specialabouthim.Maybebecausehewassogoodattouchingme.Iwasonfire.Itfeltlike
I was burning, anyway. I rolled my head from side to side as he played with me and
nibbledonmyneck.Histhighpressedagainstmypussy,andIgaspedasthepressureon
myachingclitsentshockwavesthroughme.

Somethingwashappening.Ihadtouchedmyselfbefore,ofcourse,soIknewitwhenI

feltit.Theheatwastoohot.Itwastootight.Iwastoowet.Itwasalltoomuch.Iclosed
myeyesandgrippedhimtight,myfingerslikeclawsasIbuckedmyhipsonce,twice.

Thenitwasover.Ilaidtheretrembling,eyesclosed.Icouldn’tbelieveIdidthat.Itwas

so embarrassing. Tyler would think I was some inexperienced kid—which I was, of
course.

Iopenedmyeyes,andhewassmilingdownatmeinthatwayhehad.Likeeverything

wouldbeokay.

“Youalright?”heasked.Hewasbreathless.
“Mm-hmm.Areyou?”Ireacheddown,intentontouchinghimdownthere,makinghim

feelasgoodashemademefeel.

But he pulled his hips up, away from me. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It can just be

aboutyou.”

“DidIdosomethingwrong?”
“No,no.You’reperfect.”Hekissedmeagain,justasoftlittlekiss.“ButIdon’tthinkwe

shoulddoanythingelse.That’sall.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. But it was more than I ever thought I would

havewithhim,anyway.Thatwassomething.

Hekissedmeonemoretime,andIheldhisneckinmyhand.Itwasbittersweet,and

wesmiledateachotherwhenheraisedhimselfbackupagain.IwassureIwouldnever
seehimagain.

“Tyler?”
“Yeah?”
“Iloveyou.”
IshudderedwhenIrememberedsayingit.WhatwasItryingtodo?Setmyselfupto

havemyheartstompedon?Notthatheeverwouldhavestompedonmyheart,buthe
didn’tsayitback,either.Ifeltliketheworld’sbiggestidiotwhenheleftmealoneinmy
bedroomthatnight.HeleftbeforeIgotupthenextmorning.

AndithadbeenfiveyearsbeforeIsawhimagain.Andwewerestillrighttherein

thatplace.Melovinghim.Himnotwantingtohurtmyfeelings.

“

T Y L E R

ey,canItalktoyou?”

IlookedupwhenBrettcametothebedroomdoor.“Yeah,sure.What’sup,bro?”I

wasjustlacingupmyrunningshoes.“Youjustcaughtme.Iwasonmywayout.”

“Itwon’ttakelong.”Brettsatonmybed.
“Shoot.”
Hetookadeepbreath.“It’saboutDeja.”
Ifeltmyhacklesgouprightaway.“Whatabouther?”
“See?Youalreadysounddefensive.”’
“I’mnottryingtoactdefensive.Ijustknowyou’regonnacomplainabouthowlong

she’sbeenhere.”

“Well, I mean, it’s been weeks. And she hasn’t found a job. She’s sleeping on the

couch every night, and that just makes it weird when we bring girls home. I mean, I
knowJacobandPatrickfeelthesameway.”

“Igetit.Itwascoolwhenshewascleaningthehouseandshit,butnowthatshehas

tosleepandbearegularperson,youdon’twantheranymore.Andshe’sstilldoingthe
housework,too.”

“I know she is, and you’re totally misunderstanding what I’m trying to say.” He

shookhishead.“Iknewitwasgonnaturnoutlikethis,man.You’rereallychanging,
andnotinagoodway.”

“Excuseme?”
“I mean, I don’t know if I like who you’re turning into. It’s like you totally forgot

everythingthat’shappeningaroundyoubecauseshecameback.You’reonlyhalfthere
atpractices.Youdon’tworkoutinthegymashardastherestofus.You’rephoningit
in.Everybodyseesit—includingCoach.”

My stomach turned. It was my biggest fear come true. I wasn’t measuring up. I

wouldfail.“I’mdoingwhatIcan,okay?I’llbefineonceitcomestimefortheCombine.
Andlisten—IjusttoldherdownstairsthatI’dtakehertothedinertohelphergetajob
there.Onceshedoes,I’llhelpherfindsomewheretolive,too.”

“Okay.”Hestood,andtherewasstillafrownonhisface.“Ihatetosoundlikethis,

man.YouknowIdo.”

“Ijustdon’tgetit,Iguess.IthoughtyoulikedDeja.Youwerecoolaboutherstaying

before.”

“I did like her, until she started distracting you, and drinking all our booze. And I

didn’tknowshe’dbehereforweeks.”

“Yousaidaslongasittook,”Iremindedhim.“It’snotlikesheisn’ttrying.Anddon’t

getmestartedaboutdrinking.Youdoitallthetime.”

“Idon’tdoitattwointheafternooneveryday,”hesaid.“Icamehomeafterclass

today and she was sitting there with a glass of vodka, doing something on the
computer.”

Iwentalittlecoldinside.“Shewas?”
“Yeah,shewas.Thechick’sgotaseriousproblem,man.I’msorry,Iknowshe’syour

good friend from childhood, and I think she’s a great girl when she’s sober, but she’s
soberlessandlessnow.She’slikeoneofthosefunctioningalcoholics.Andprettysoon,
shewon’tbefunctioning.Believeme,itrunsinmyfamily.”

“Thenmaybeyoushouldchilloutwiththedrinking,too,”Ijoked.“Justtobeonthe

safeside.”

“I’mnottryingtobefunny.I’mserious,Tyler.”
“Iwasjusttryingtokeepitlight,man.I’msorry.”Isatdowninthechairwithasigh,

runningmyhandsthroughmyshorthair.“I’lldomybest,okay?Justletmefigureshit
out.”

“Okay.” He sounded disappointed, like he’d wanted me to kick her out right then

andthere.

Icouldn’tdothat.ShewasDeja.Andlikeshehadjustremindedmeoutside,wehad

onceslepttogether.Ididn’twanttorememberit,butshehadawayofremindingmeof
thethingsIwouldratherleavebehindme.MaybebecausethatwastheclosestIever
cameinmylifetohavingsexwithsomebodyIactuallycaredabout.Ihadstoppedit
becauseIcaredabouthersomuch.

heardaknockatthebedroomdoorjustasIwasgettingintobedthatnight.

“Yeah?”IthoughtitmightbeBrett,comingtosmooththingsoverfromearlier.We

hadn’tspokentherestofthenight.Dejahadlaidlow,too.Shetookalongwalkaround
theneighborhoodtoclearherhead,orsoshe’dsaid.Iwonderedifshewasstartingto
feeluncomfortablebeinghere.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Shit. I covered myself up—I had gone back to

sleepingnakedonceDejamoveddownstairs—beforetellinghershecouldcomein.

She sat on the edge of the bed, far away from me. “I just wanted to apologize if I

embarrassedyouearliertonight.Ididn’twantthingstobeweird.”

“It’sokay.Waterunderthebridge.”
“Didn’tBrettsaysomethingaboutanothertrainervisitingschooltoday?”
“Yeah,sortofanunexpectedvisit.”
“Wherewashefrom?”
“Jacksonville.”
“Oh.” I heard the excitement in her voice, even though she was trying to hide it.

“You’dbeprettylocal,then.”

“Yeah,butIdon’tthinkIwanttobe.I’vebeeninFloridaallmylife.”

“Oh.Right.Ididn’tthinkaboutitthatway.”
“Besides,”Iadded,“Iwantastrongteam.They’renotthestrongest,rightnow.”
“Ifeelyou.”
“DidyouhopeIwouldstaynearby?”Iasked,grinning.
“What’ssobadaboutthat?”
“It’srarethatsomethinglikethathappens.Besides,duringtheseason,it’snotlikeI

wouldn’tbeontheroadmostofthetime.”

“Right,right.Ofcourse.Well,you’llseelotsoftrainersandcoachesattheCombine.

Lotsofchancesforthemtoseeyou,too.”Dejastoodupandthedisappointmentpretty
muchradiatedfromher.

“CanItellyousomething?”
“Sure.”
Iblurteditalloutinalmostonesingleword.“I’mscaredtodeath,Deja.”OnceIsaid

it, it didn’t sound so bad. It was just a matter of getting it out there, admitting it was
there.

“Whatdoyoumean?Ofwhat?”Shesatbackdownagain,afrownonherface.
“Of screwing up. Like I’m not good enough for this or something. I keep telling

myselfIdon’thaveanythingtoworryabout,butit’sgettinghardertobelievethat.”

“Butyoudon’thaveanythingtoworryabout.You’resotalented.Youalwayshave

been.Everybodythinksso.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t mess up somehow. Throw it all away, disappoint

everybody.”

“Welp.Nowthatyouputitthatway,you’reright.Youshouldn’ttryatall.Fuckthe

Combine,fuckgoingtotheDraft.Youshouldbecomeabusdriver.”

“Shutup.”
“No,becausethenyoumightcrashthebusandkillpeople.”
Icouldn’thelpbuttolaugh.
“Isthereanythingyoucoulddothatyouwouldn’tpossiblydisappointpeople?”
“Okay,okay.Igetit.”
Shegiggled.“YouseewhatImean.”
“I do. But do you know how it feels to have everybody looking at you, expecting

thingsfromyou,wantingyoutobethebest?”

Shegrimaced.“No.Notreally.”
Whatanassholethingtosay.“I’msorry.Thatdidn’tcomeoutright.”
“No.Itcameoutjustthewayyouwerefeelingit.There’snothingwrongwiththat.

But no, I don’t know how it feels. Nobody ever expected much from me. I was just
anotherkidinthesystem.”

“SometimesIwishnobodyeverexpectedanythingfromme,”Iadmitted.
Hereyesnarrowed.“That’ssuchabullshitthingtosay.”
“Huh?”
“People expect things from you when you have abilities. So that’s the same as

sayingyouwishyoudidn’thaveanyabilities.Iknowthat’snottrue.”

“Youhaveabilities,too.”
“Like?”
“Well,youwerealwaysgoodatEnglish.Like,readingandwritingpapersandstuff.

Rememberwhenyouusedtohelpmewithmine?”

“Yeah,butthatwashighschoolstuff.Thatwon’tgetmeanywhere.”
“Youdon’tknowthat.Youcouldbeateachersomeday.”
“Youhavetogotocollegeforthat,genius.”
“You’reyoungenough.Youcouldgetstudentloans.”
“Ireallydon’twannatalkaboutitrightnow,okay?Ithoughtweweretalkingabout

you.Nicejob,changingthesubjectlikethat.”Shesmirked,shakingherhead.“You’re
stillthesame.”

“Andsoareyou.Youdon’tbelieveinyourself.”
“Neitherdoyou.”
“Doyouthinkpeopleeverreallychange?”Iaskedher.
“No,”shesaidwithafrown.“Ithinkweonlygetolder,butwedon’treallychange.”

Shestoodupagain.“I’llletyougettosleep.Anddon’tforget,we’regoingtothediner
tomorrowatsomepointtohookmeupwithajob.”

“Yougotit.”
“Alright.I’mgoingtobed.Goodnight,cornball.”
“Ha!Goodnight,Deja.”

D E J A

twas my first college party, and I had no idea what to expect. Would it be like the

onesIsawinmovies,andonTV?

Nothingcouldhavepreparedmeforwhathappenedwhenthehousestartedtofill

up. I had lived there for almost three weeks by then, and I felt a kind of ownership,
evenifIhadnothingtodowiththeplace.SowhenIsawdozensofpeoplecomingin,
droppingtheirbelongingseverywhere,andalreadysplashingdrinksonthefloorwhen
theydanced,Ifeltalittleoffended.Didn’ttheyknowIhadwashedthosefloorsmyself?
Wheredidtheythinktheywere?

Ifinallyfiguredoutaboutanhourintoitwhattheproblemwas.Ifeltliketheden

mother,orsomethinglikethat.LikeIwassomucholderthanthem.Iguesseditwas
becauseIneverhadatimeinmylifewhenIwasabletoletloosethewaytheycould.I
had gone straight from high school to a job. Yeah, I used to hang out with friends…
whenIhadthem.ButtheyallsortofwentawaywhenIstartedhookingupwithMalik.
Hedidn’tlikeanyofthem,andtheysureashellhadn’tlikedhim.Whydidn’tIseeit
backthen?Ishould’veknown.Itshould’vebeenahugeredflagwhenpeoplestarted
droppingoutofmylife.Butbackthen,Iwasgladtheydid.Itmeantthereweren’tas
manyfightsbetweenhimandme.

Iwalkedthroughthehouse,wheremorepeoplewerecrammingineveryminute.

Thatwashowitseemed,anyway.Thedubstepmusicwasear-splitting.Howdidpeople
notgodeaf?Itwasfun,Iguessed.Idecidedtodowhateverybodyelsewasdoingand
pourmyselfadrink.

“Theresheis!”Patrickwavedmeover.“She’sthereasonthisplacelooksasgoodas

it does.” He threw an arm around my neck and grinned. His green eyes were a little
unfocused already. I knew that look pretty well. I decided not to remind him that I
wasn’tthefuckingmaid,eventhoughhemademesoundlikeittohisfriends.

Oneofthegirlsthrewherarmsaroundmyneck.“Thankyou!”sheshoutedinmy

ear.“Itwasalwayssogrossinhere!”

“Why the fuck did you come, then?” I asked as I rolled my eyes and I poured a

vodka.

“Um,haveyouseentheguyswholivehere?”Shegiggled,lookingaround.“Imean,

you’vebeenstayingwiththem.Ibetyouwantedtojumpalloverthem.”

Icreasedmyforehead,lookingherupanddown.

Ithoughtaboutwhatshesaid.Yes,theywereallcute.Bretthadthosegoldenboy

looks,withtheblondehairandgreeneyes.Icouldimaginehimonafarm,allsweaty
anddirtyfromalongday’swork.Ibelieveditwhenhetoldmehehadgrownupon
one.

Jacob didn’t have the good looks the others did—he was okay, but not over-

handsome—buthisbodymorethanmadeupforit.Helookedlikehebelongedonthe
coverofamen’smagazine,somethingabouthealthorfitnessorwhatever.

And Patrick was a smaller guy—shorter, but compact. He had warm eyes and a

friendly smile, and his personality made him the life of the party. I could see why
chickswereintohim,too.

ButTyler?Hewasinanotherworld,completely.MaybeitwasbecauseofthewayI

alreadyfeltabouthim.Ididn’tknow.

IthoughtIshouldanswerher,soIjustsaid,“Nah.Icancontrolmyself.”
Shegiggled.“You’reabetterwomanthanme,honey.I’dprobablyenduppregnant

ifIspentweeksstayinghere.”

Igaveherthethumbsupandmademywaytothelivingroomandtriedtogetinto

the dancing, but I didn’t know anybody. I looked around for Tyler, but I couldn’t see
himovertheheadsoftheothers.Hewasatleastsix-foot-three,soIshouldhavebeen
abletocatchsightofhimwithouttryingtoohard.Butnosuchluck.

Maybehe’supstairswithanotherchick.Itriedtopushthethoughtoutofmyhead,

butitwouldn’tgoaway.Wasn’tthatwhattheydid,theguyswholivedthere?I’dheard
stories already from some of the giggling girls around me. They didn’t know I was
listening—itwasoneofthosehabitsI’dpickedupwhenIwasakid,listeningwithout
letting anybody know I was. And I knew they almost always took a girl upstairs. All
fourofthem.Maybehehaddecidedtomakeitanearlynight.

Well,itdidn’tmatter.Ihadajob,finally,atthediner.Ilikeditthere.Iwaslearning

howtobeawaitress,andthetipsweregreat.Icouldaffordmyownplaceinnotime,if
IusedthelittlesavingsIhadbroughtwithme.Noproblem.Icouldmoveonwithmy
ownlife,finally,forthefirsttimeever.

ButIwould’vegivenanythingforTylertotakemeupstairs.
It was too loud. I had to get out of there. College parties weren’t what they were

cracked up to be, I decided. I pushed my way through the crowd and out the door.
WhenTylerhadfirsttoldmeabouttheparty,Ihadjustaboutjumpedoutofmyskin.
I’d bought a new outfit and helped clean up and get things set before everybody got
there.Ihadbeenanervouswreckallday,justhopingpeoplewouldlikemeandaccept
me.

It was finally clear that it didn’t matter whether they did or not. They wouldn’t

remembermeaftertheparty,anyway.Theywerealltoodrunk.Andthatwastheway
lifewent.Mylife,anyway.Igotmyselfallworkedupoverthingsthatdidn’tturnoutto
beanythingspecialintheend.

LikethewayTylerfeltaboutme.Hecouldn’tevenbothertoseeifIwashavinga

good time. He had disappeared, and I was surer than ever that he was up in his
bedroomfuckingsomechick.Irememberedthewayhehadpressedagainstmethat
nightinmybedroom,fiveyearsearlier.Someluckygirlwasgettingwhathewouldn’t
givemethatnight.Iguessedshewasmorespecialthanme.Shedeservedit.Ihadn’t.

I sat down on the front steps. The outside was so much nicer than the inside. It

wasn’t anywhere near quiet, since all the windows were open, but I could breathe. I
couldbreatheanddrinkinpeace,anddoalotofmoping.MyfirstcollegepartyandallI
coulddowasmopearound.

Icouldn’tevengotosleepuntileverybodyleft,either,sincetheywerealldancing

aroundmybed.AndIthoughthavingapartywouldbeagoodidea.

1 0

T Y L E R

hepartywasinfullswing,butIcouldn’tfindDejaanywhere.

Ilookedineveryroom,myeyessweepingovertheheadsofthepeoplearoundme.

Shewasn’tthere.Notinthekitchen,doingshots.Notplayingbeerponginthedining
room. She wasn’t dancing in the living room. I stood on the third stair to get a good
look at everybody. I didn’t see her anywhere. Jametta ran up the stairs and threw
herselfatmebutIwasn’tinterested.MyfocuswasonDejaandonlyDeja.

“Well, fuck you then!” Jametta yelled and stormed down the stairs. “That’s why I

alreadyhaveanewman!”

IshookmyheadandcontinuedtoscantheareaforDeja.
“Hey! Have you seen Deja?” I asked Brett as he pushed his way past me on the

stairs.

“Nope.Notsincethepartystarted.”Isensedalittlecoldnessfromhim,likehedidn’t

wanttolookmeintheeye.Icouldn’tfigureoutwhy.DidIdosomethingtopisshim
off?

“Ifyouseeher,tellherI’mlookingforher.”
“Yeah,sure.”Hehurriedawayfrommeanddisappearedintoacrowd.Itoldmyself

Iwoulddealwithhimlater.Ididn’tfeellikelivingwithaguywithastickuphisassall
thetime.Heusedtobecool,too.

Ilookedsomemore—inmybedroom,inthebathroom.Icouldn’tfigureoutwhere

Dejawouldrunoffto.

Ifinallythoughttogooutsideontheporch.Maybesheneededsomefreshair.And

thereshewas,too,sittingonthestepswithaplasticcupinherhand.Well,shehadall
shecaredabout,anyway.Shedidn’tneedtheparty.Shejustwantedtodrink.

I decided not to say anything about that as I sat down next to her. The drinking

thing was starting to bother me a little. She had already had a couple when she was
helpingusgetthingsready.Icouldalmostunderstandwhyshewoulddrinksomuch
when she was living with that ex-boyfriend. Anybody would drink to stop thinking
abouthimandtheshittylifetheyhadtogether.Butthatwasn’tthecaseanymore.She
wassafe.Whydidshekeepdrinkingsomuch?

“Hey.Whatareyoudoingouthereallbyyourself?”
She looked into her cup. “I don’t have anything to say to anybody in there. Know

whatImean?”

“Notreally.”Isneered.“Nobody’sheretohaveaconversation,youknow?Theyjust

wannahavefun.Don’tyouwantto?”

“Sure,butwhentheyaskmewhoIamorwhoIknow,Igettongue-tied.IguessI

stillfeellikeIdon’tfitin.”

“Youfitinwithme.”
SheturnedherheadtomeandIgazedatherstunningbrowneyes.
“That’sallIwant.”
Ilookedather,reallylookedatherforthefirsttimeallnight.“Youlookbeautiful

tonight,Deja.Youknowthat?”

“Stop,”shegiggled.“Quitplayin’.”
Yeah,shedid.Forthefirsttime,Igotalookatherbody.Shewasn’twearingthose

loose-fitting,baggyclothesjustthen.Thetanksheworeshowedoffanice,fullrack.Big,
firm tits. A tiny waist. Long legs. Smooth chocolate skin. “Where have you been
hiding?”

Icouldevensenseherblushingwhenitwasdarkoutside.“Idon’tknow.IguessI

decidedtocomeouttonight.YoureallythinkIlookokay?”

“Better than okay. I think you underestimate just how beautiful you are.” If she

wereanyothergirlintheworld,Iwouldhaveherupstairsbythen.Orwe’datleastbe
dancingtogether.Iwantedtogetmyhandsonthatbody.

The party was raging inside. I could feel the vibration from the music and all the

dancingevensittingonthesteps.Normally,Iwouldhavebeeninthere.Atthecenter
ofit.Probablyhittingonsomebodyorhookingupinmybedroom.Iwasnevertheguy
whosatoutonthefrontsteps.

“Howcomeyou’renotdrinking?”sheasked.
“I’mbetweendrinks.Iseeyou’renot.”
Shesighed.“Herewegoagain.”
“I’mjustthinkingyoushouldslowdownwiththedrinking.”
“Slowdown?Thisiscomingfromacollegekid?”
“I’mserious.”Istaredather.
“What?DoIsoundimpairedtoyou?”No,andthatwastheproblem.Shesounded

waytooclearforsomebodywho’dbeendrinkingforhours.Shegotupfromthestep
andstoodinfrontofme.“See?I’mtotallysteadyonmyfeet.”Sheputthecuponthe
groundandstoodupagain.“Ibentdownandstoodupwithoutevenwobbling.”

“Goodjob.”Ichuckled.
Sheextendedherarmsoutonbothsidesandtouchedthetipofhernose,oneindex

fingeratatime.“Coordinationisokay.”

“Sure.”
“AndIcanwalkastraightline.”
Shedidthat,too.
“Congratulations,Deja.”
“Noneedtotrip.I’mfine.”
“Yeah,okay.”
“WhydoIfeellikeyou’rejudgingme?”Shebentandpickeduphercup.Stillsteady.
I sighed and looked away, down the street. “You saw what happened when he

drank.”

I wasn’t looking at her, but I could feel her mood dive when I mentioned him.

“Whatareyousaying?”

“I’msayingyoushouldknowbetter,”Ireplied.“Lookatme.”
“I’mlooking,damn.”
“All my friends get wasted every weekend, and that’s fine. But I don’t because I

don’twannabethatguy.”

“Whatguy?”
“Theguywhodrinksandturnsintoanasshole.”
She shook her head. “Tyler, he already was an asshole. McGregor was the biggest

fuckin’ asshole I ever knew. Why his wife stayed with him is something I never
understood—andthisismetalking,”sheadded.“Hewasanassholewhenhewassober.
You’renot.”

“ButIseehoweasyitistoturnintoone.Ineverwannaputthatonsomebodyelse’s

shoulders.Idon’twannabelikehim.”

“Igetit.”Shesatbackdownnexttomewithasigh.“JustlikeIalwaystoldmyselfI

wouldneverbelikehiswife.”

“Youmean,thewayshelethimtreather?”
Shenodded.“Whothehellapprovedthemtobefosterparents,anyway?Theyhad

tobethemostfuckeduppeopleintheworld.”

“They were,” I agreed. “But they were good Christians on the surface and went to

churcheverySunday,sotheylookedlikeagoodcoupleontheoutside.”

“Andnobodybotheredtoaskwhyshealwayslookedtiredandbeatendown,”Deja

murmured.

“Right.Becauseitwasn’ttheirbusiness.”Justsayingitleftabadtasteinmymouth.

Ifitwasn’ttheirbusiness,thenwhosewasit?Wewereinthathousewiththem,witha
drunkwhobeathiswifeandputthemovesonhisfosterdaughter.Whosebusinesswas
it?Somebodyshouldhavesaidsomething.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her swipe a hand over her cheek. “I lived in a

placewherepeopledidn’tthinkitwastheirbusiness,”sheexplained.“Iknowhowthat
feelswhenyouwishjustonepersonwouldask.Youjustwantonepersontotellyouit’s
okaytogo.”

“It’sokaytogo.”
Shesniffed.“Alittlelateforthat.Ialreadyleft.”
“Andthat’sagoodthing.”
“EventhoughI’mhere,holdingyouback?”Shegavemeaknowinggrin.
“Holdingmeback?”
“IknowhowBrettfeels.Itwasokayformetobehereforanight,thenacoupleof

days.It’sbeenthreeweeksnow,andhe’sreadytoseemeleave.Hewantshishomeboy
back.”

“Youdon’tknowhowthingswerebeforeyougothere.”
“No,butIhaveears.”
Iwinced.Soshe’dheardthatconversation.“You’reasnoop.”
“No. I just like to know what people think about me, is all.” She drained her cup.

“AndIknowhewantsthewomanizingwingmanheusedtoknow.You’renotthatguy
whileI’maround.”

“Shit,I’mnotreallythatguyatall.”
“Ha!Bullshit.Iknowyousleeparound,Tyler.”
“So?Itdoesn’tmeanI’mawomanizer.Idon’tusewoman.”
“But you know what I mean. Brett misses you. I can understand why. I think it’s

timeformetomoveon.IwantedtoseeyouagainandI’mthankfulwewereaboutto
reconnect.”

“Moveon?You’rejustgonnaannounceitlikethat?”
She frowned. “I thought you would be happy that I was thinking about leaving. I

mean,webothknowithastohappensometime.”

Abreezekickedupandmademeshiveralittle.Itblewathickstrandofhairback

fromherforehead,whereshehadsweptherbangsovertotheside.Ireachedoverto
helpherfixit,tuckingitbehindherear,thenletmyfingerstraildownhercheek.She
closedhereyes.

What was I doing? I shouldn’t have been touching her like that. I shouldn’t have

takenherchininmyhandandpulledherfacealittleclosertomineandpressedmy
mouth against hers. I shouldn’t have loved the taste of her lip gloss and the way her
mouthopenedwhenIproddedgentlywithmytongue.Bloodsurgedinmycockand
made me a little dizzy from the force. She whimpered softly, and that just made it
harderformetokeepmyhandsoffher.

Whatwashappening?Icouldn’tthinkstraight.AllIknewwasIwantedher.Badly.
“Yo!Whatthefuckareyoudoingwithmygirlfriend?”
We flew apart, and Deja’s sick little moan told me everything I needed to know

abouttheguywalkingupthepathfromthesidewalk.Hishandswereballedintofists,
andhisbeadylittleeyesshotdaggersintomewitheverystephetook.

“Who are you?” I asked, even though I knew. So that was Malik. Piece of shit.

Scrawny,too.Probablyallthedrugsheshotintohisarm.Iwould’vecalledhimfora
junkiewithouteverhearinghisnamebefore,justbylookingathisneedle-prickedskin
andthewayhischeekssankin.

“Fallthefuckback,man,”Malikwarned.“I’mherboyfriend.AndIcametotakeher

home.”

Istood,thenwalkedtherestofthewaydownthesteps.Ihadagoodsixincheson

him and at least seventy-five pounds. But damned if he didn’t try to stand toe-to-toe
withme.Eitherhewasbraveorhigh.

“Deja,”Imuttered,nevertakingmyeyesoffhim,“goinsidenow.”
“Tyler…”
“Tyler?Isthatyourname?”heasked.
“Yeah,that’smyname.YoumustbeMalik.”Itookastepcloseruntilwewereonly

inchesawayfromeachother.“Iknowallaboutyou.”

“Oh,yeah?Whatdidthatbitchtellyouaboutme?”
“Shetoldmeyou’reapatheticjunkiewhobeather.That’swhatshetoldme.What,

you needed her around to support your habit, you fucking loser?” My hands were in
fists,thesameashis.Iwantedhimtotakeaswing.Iwanteditsobadly.Ijustneeded
theexcusetoletlooseonhim.

He snickered. “Deja would say that. Always the victim, huh?” He looked over my

shoulderather.“Soyoudecidedtowhorearoundwiththismotherfucka,huh?Iwasn’t

goodenoughforyouanymoreandyouhadtobouncetoawhiteboy?”

“Please,Malik.Justgo.”Thefearinhervoiceonlyturnedmyangertofury.Icould

imagine her cowering on a floor, covering her face and head as he hurt her. I could
imagineherpleadingwithhimtostop.Bloodrushedthroughmyears.Icouldhearmy
heartpounding.

“She’sright.Whydon’tyoubesmartandgetthefuckoffmypropertybeforeImake

you?”Igrowled.Icouldhardlycontrolmyself.Iwantedtobusthimwideopen.

“Please. Rich little college punk like you. What do you think you’re gonna do to

me?”Then,hemadeamistake.Heputhishandsonmychestandshovedme,ortried
toshoveme.Itookahalf-stepback,andthesightofsurprisefillinghiseyeswasalmost
laughable.Hehadputallhisforcebehindthatshove,butitgothimnowhere.

“Tyler,don’t!Please!”Iheardthefrontdooropen.Iheardhercallingoutforhelp.
I put my hands on his chest and shoved, and he was on his ass in a second. He

yelpedinpainandsurprise.

“Youliketohurtwomen,huh?”Iasked,standingoverhim.“Youwannaknowwhat

it feels like to get hurt by somebody bigger and stronger than you? Huh?” I was
screaming loud enough to get attention from people walking past. They stopped to
watch.

“You’re crazy,” Malik whimpered. He raised an arm to his face. “You’re fucking

nuts.”

“I’mnuts?I’mnottheonewhobeatsonwomen!”Ikickedhimintheribs,andhe

doubledover,curledupinaball.Ifeltasicksenseofsatisfaction.ThatwasforDeja.
AnditwasforherwhenIsanktomykneesandtookhisrattyT-shirtinonehandwhile
theotherpulledbackinafistandcrashedintohisface.

“Tyler!Stop!Please!”Deja’spleasreachedmyears,butIcouldn’tlistentothem.I

was too busy paying the little shit back for everything he did to her. I punched him
againandagain,butitwasn’tenough.Itdidn’ttakeawaytheneedtohurthimmore.It
neverwentaway.

“Bro!Stop!”Brett’svoiceranginmyearsashepulledmeoffMalik,whospitblood

on the ground as he rolled over onto his side. I spat on him as Brett led me away. I
almostdidn’tnoticetheredandbluelightsflashingonthehousesacrossthestreet.

“Oh, shit.” Jacob’s eyes were wide. “Fuck, bro. Who the fuck called the cops?” It

could’vebeenanybodystandingonthesidewalk.Thereweredozensofpeoplearound,
nottomentioneverybodywhohadcomeouttowatch.Itcould’vebeenanyofthem.

Iwastheonlyonewithbloodonmyfists,sotheyknewitwasmeasthegotoutof

theircarsandpushedtheirwaythroughthecrowd.

“Whathappenedhere?”oneofpoliceofficersasked,whiletwootherswenttocheck

onMalik.Iwantedtotellthemnottobother,thathewasn’tworthit.

“Thismanwasharassingmyfriend,”Iexplained.Itwasanefforttoclearmyhead

enoughtothinkstraight.“He’sherex.Hecamelookingforher.”

“Didhehurthertonight?”thecopasked.
“No.”Icouldn’tlie.
“Didhetrytohurtanybodyelse?”
“Itoldhimtoleave,getoffmypropertyandhetriedtopushme.”
The police officer folded his arms. “I’m sure that worked well.” He looked over at

Malik,whosenosewasprobablybrokenandwhoseeyewasalreadyswellingshut.“I
hatetotellyouthis,butitlookslikeI’mgonnahavetotakeyouin.”

“What?Why?Iwasonlydefendingher.”
“Please,Officer,”Brettsaid.“Itwasjustafistfight.”
“Inpublic,”thepoliceofficersaid.“Sorry,butrulesarerules.Wehavetotakeyouin

fordisorderlyconduct.”

“Iwannapresscharges!”Malikdemanded.
“Waitasecond.Howthefuckdidyouknowwhereshelived?”Iquestionedhim.
“Don’tworryaboutit,bitch!”hespat.
IsawBretttakeafewstepsback.
“Brett?”Icreasedmyforehead.“Youtoldthismotherfucker?”
“Dude,chill.”Brettheldhishandsupindefense.“You’rejustgonnagetyourselfinto

moretroubleandjeopardizeyourfootballcareerdealingwithher.Ithoughtyouwould
finallygetoutofthedazeshehadyouinifIcalledhimtocomegether.”

“Butyoudon’thavehisnumberunlessyouwentthroughmyphone.”Dejalooked

puzzled.

“Idon’thavetimeforthisshit.Iwanttopresschargesnow!”Malikshoutedatthe

policeofficerandBrettstartedtowalktowardsthehouse.

“Fuckyou!”Icouldn’thelpmyself.“Goodthingsheneverpressedchargesagainst

you,youfuckingjunkie!”

“Getthefuckbackhere,Brett!Youwentthroughmyshit!”Dejascreamed.
“Iwasjustlookingoutformy,bro!”Brettyelledfromthehouse.“Hedoesn’tneed

yourfuckingbaggage!”

“Alright, alright. Break it up, everyone. Come on.” The police officer led me away

andpushedmeintothebackofoneofthecars.Ilookedoutthewindowandsawallof
therandompeoplestandingtherestaringatme.

Including Deja, from her spot on the porch. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she

watchedmepullaway.

1 1

“

T Y L E R

ylerJohnsonHunter.”

Ilookedupattheguardwhowaswalkingdownthehall.“YoucancallmeT.J.”
“You’refreetogo.”
“Abouttime.”Itwasarelieftogetupfromthecoldbench.Everymuscleinmybody

wascrampedupfromsittingthereforeighthours.“Whosays?”

“Wesay.Andstopaskingsomanyquestionsorwemightthinkaboutitagainand

keepyouinherejustbecause.”

I rolled my eyes. I felt the eyes of the rest of the guys in there, all of them in

separatecellsandallofthemlookingoutatmeastheguardledmedownthehallto
thebookingroom.HowwasIsupposedtogethome?Ididn’tcare.I’dwalkifIhadto,
solongasIgotthereandwenttosleepanddidn’thavetowakeupfortwodays.

WhenIsawCoachstandupfromhischairbythedoor,IwishedIwerebackinthat

cell.Ithoughtaboutaskingiftheywouldputmebackin.Nohardfeelings.

“Thanks,”hesaid,andhiseyesweresonarrowIcouldhardlyseethem.Shit!Iknew

that look. That was the look he usually had after I fucked up a big play. He took my
arm,andhishandwaslikeavice.Ialmostwinced,morefromsurprisethananything
else.Ididn’tsayaworduntilwewereoutside,wherethesunwasaboutreadytorise.It
wouldbeabeautifulday.Thecoolairfeltgoodonmyskin.

Thatgoodfeelingdidn’tlasttoolong.“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”hespat.He

didn’tevenwaituntilwegotintohiscar.

“Howdidyoufindout?”
“That’snottheanswertothequestionIaskedyou.”Heopenedthepassengerdoor

to his truck and almost shoved me inside. I outweighed him by at least fifty pounds,
maybe more, but he still had a lot of strength left in him. I heard him muttering to
himselfashewalkedaroundtothedriver’sside.

“Idon’tknowwhatyouwantmetosay,”Iwhisperedwhenhegotin.Istaredout

thewindow.

“Iwantyoutotellmewhyyou’redeadsetonruiningeverychanceyoueverhadto

makesomethingforyourself.”

“Oh,comeon.I’mnotruiningmychances.”
“No?DoyouthinkanyteamintheNFLwantstosignsomebodywho’sgettinginto

fightsandgettingtheirassesarrested?Imean,enoughofthatgoesonintheprosasit

is.Theydon’twanttotakeonanymoreliabilitythantheyhaveto,kid,nomatterhow
talentedtheplayeris.”

Ihadn’tthoughtaboutitthatway.Ihadn’tthoughtatall.Ofcourse,hewasright.I

wouldbeseenasaliability,atroublemaker.Icouldn’triskthat,butnoneofthathad
matteredatthemoment.

“Who’stheguyyouknockedout?”heasked.
Shit. I had to be careful with what I said. Coach was crafty, too. He had a way of

knowingthingswithoutlettingapersonknowheknewthem.Iwonderedhowmuch
he had already found out from whoever called him to get me out of jail. “The ex-
boyfriendofafriendofmine.”

“Agirlfriend?”
“No.Agirlwho’safriend.”
“Howgoodafriend?”
“Isthisoneofthosecheesyrealityshows?”Isnapped.
“I swear to God, boy, if I didn’t fear losing my job, I would slap the shit outta you

rightnow.”Hepulledusovertothesideoftheroad,outinthemiddleofnowhere.“I
meanit.Don’ttestme.”

“Whyareyoupullingover?”Iasked.
“BecauseIwantyoutotellmethetruthandIwantyoutolookmeintheeyewhile

youdoit.Ican’tlookinyoureyeswhenI’mdriving.”Heglaredatme.“So?Whoisthe
guy,andwho’sthegirl,andwhyareyouinthemiddleofit?”

Ishiftedinmyseat,soIwasfacinghim.Oh,man,washepissed.Hisfacewasredder

than I had ever seen it. He was fighting to stay in control of himself, I could tell. He
wasn’tthekindofmanwhodidthateasily,either.

“She’safriend.AgirlIgrewupwith.”
“Agirlwho’sbeenstayingwithyou.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Sopeopleweretalking.”
“Ofcourse,theyweretalking.IheardthewholedamnedstoryfromBrettwhenhe

calledmeforhelp.”

“Fuckhim.He’sworsethanachick,”Imuttered.
“No.Brett’sagoodfriendofyoursandjustlookingoutforyou.Heknewitcouldget

youintotroubleifanybodyfoundoutyouwereinjailforbrawling,sohecalledmeto
helpyouout.HeknewIcouldgetyououttathereifItalkedtothecops,whichIdid.
Andhereyouare.Butitwasabigrisk,ofcourse.”

“Yeah,ahugerisk.”
“Whichwasworse?Callingme,orhavingtheheadoftheathleticsdepartmentfind

out?”

Igulped.“Didhe?”
“Idon’tknow.It’saSundaymorning.Oddsare,no.He’sprobablystillasleep,totally

oblivious.Notlikehecouldcutyoufromtheteamnow…”

No, since the season was over and I was on my way out anyway. “But he could

reportittoanytrainersorcoacheswhocalleduptoaskaboutmyrecord,”Ifinished.

“Right.Ifwe’relucky,he’llneverhavetoknow.”
Isoundedlikeaballoonrunningoutofairasthebreathleftmybody.“Shit.Ifucked

up.”

“Yeah,yadid.Anditcould’vebeenalotworse.So,who’stheguy?”
“Please,canwetalkaboutthislater?I’mhalf-asleep.”
“No.Iwannaknownow.Yousaidhewasherex.Jealousy?”
“Nah.Ihadnothingtobejealousof.”
“So?”
“Soshelefthimbecausehebeattheshitoutofher,okay?”Thatshuttheoldmanup

pretty fast. His mouth snapped closed. “The day she found me—I hadn’t seen her in
years—shehadabruiseunderhereye.Shehadrunawayfromhim.Sheneededmy
help, someplace to stay. She’s just kinda been around ever since then. What kind of
manwouldIbeifIturnedmybackonher?”

“Yougrewupwithher?”
IlookeddownatthecenterconsolesoIwouldn’thavetolookhimintheeye.“We

werefosterbrotherandsisterforafewyears.”

Hewasquietforalongtime.Ididn’traisemyeyes.Iwastooembarrassed.
“Youwereafosterkid?”hefinallyasked,andhisvoicewasalotsofterthanitwas

before.

“Yeah.MyparentsdiedwhenIwasfive.”
“Oh.Ididn’tknowthat.Whydidn’tyouevertellmethat?”
“Why should I tell you?” My head snapped up. “We don’t hang out, you know?

We’renotfriends.Hell,Inevereventoldmyfriends.”

“Whynot?”
“Becauseit’snotsomethingyoutalkabout.”Ilaughedharshly.“Hey,Iwasafoster

kiduntilIgottoooldtobeoneanymore!NobodywantedtoadoptmebecauseIwas
alreadytoooldtobeconsideredyoungenoughtoadoptwhenmyparentscroaked!”I
shookmyhead,stilllaughing.“Right.That’sreallysomethingpeoplewannahear.”

“Butifthey’reyourfriends…”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. If they’re my friends, it shouldn’t matter.” I leaned closer to

him,justalittle.“Didyoueverhavetogotoschoolinclothesyouknewdidn’tquitefit
thewaytheotherkids’clothesdid?”

“No,”headmitted.
“Didyoueverfeellikeyouneverhadenoughmoneytoaffordschoollunchlikethe

otherkids,soyouhadtopackyourselfapeanutbutterandjellysandwicheverydayfor
yearsandyearswhileeverybodyelsehadahotlunch?Didyoueverfeeltheshameof
openingthatbrownbagwheneverybodyelsehadsomethingbettertoeat?”

“No,Ineverfeltthatway.”
“Idid.Everysingleday.Myclotheswereallfromthriftstoresorcharities.Myshoes

werealwaysalittletootight.Ineverhadthenicethingstheotherkidshad—Inever
evengotadecentChristmaspresentexceptformyfirstfootball.EverythingelseIever
got,Ihadtogetformyself.Iwasn’toneoftheotherkidsthen,andI’mnotnow.Idon’t
needtogothroughthepastwiththefriendsIhavenowandjustrememberhowshitty
thingswerethen.”

“Weallgothroughthings,kid.”
“Iknowwealldo,andthisiswhatIwentthrough,andI’lldealwithit,howeverI

wannadealwithit.”

“Fairenough.”Hegotquiet,whichIknewmeanthewasthinking.“Andyoulived

withthisgirl?”

“Fouryears.Shewasmyfostersisterforfouryears.Thatwasmyfifthhome.The

oneIstayedinthelongest.”

“Youlosttouchafteryouleft?”
“Right.”
“Soyouwereprotectingyour‘sister’,”hemurmured.
“She’snotmysister.Sheneverfeltlikemysister.Ican’texplainit.”Ishrugged.“I

guessitwouldbedifferentifwewerelittlekidswhenwelivedtogether,butwewere
alreadyteenagers.Iwas,anyway.Soshewasn’tmysister.”

“Yourgirlfriend,then.”
“No,notthat,either.Notreally.”
“Butyouhadathingforher.”
“Canwestoptalkingaboutthis,please?Yousoundlikeyou’realittletoointerested

inthis,andIdon’twannatalkaboutitanymore.”

“Fine. I’m just trying to understand because this is all news to me.” He turned

aroundandstartedthetruckupagain.Wegotbackonthemainroad,andIwasglad.
Maybehewouldletuponme.

I should’ve known better. “I would’ve punched the fucker’s lights out, too, by the

way.Idon’tbelieveamanwhohitswomenshouldbeallowedtowalkaroundwithall
histeethinhismouth.”

Ismirked.“Yeah.He’smissingatleastonenow.”
“Good. But you’ve gotta be more careful, kid. I mean, was knocking this asshole’s

teeth out more important that your future? You got a bright and promising future
aheadofyou.”

I wished I could answer that right away, but I couldn’t. Was it? At that moment,

yeah,ithadbeen.NothinghadmatteredmoretomethanmakingMalikpay.Making
himhurt,thewayhehadhurtDeja.I’dseenred.Andiftheguyshadn’tpulledmeoff
him,Imighthavekeptgoing.

“Iknowit’snot,”Ifinallysaid.“Iknowtheanswerisno.”
“Butthat’snotwhatyou’refeelingrightnow.”Hesoundedlikehewasinpain.LikeI

wascausinghimpain.“Hell,kid.Idon’tknowwhattodowithyou.Ididn’ttakeyouall
thiswaytoseeyouflushitalldownthedrainoverthisneedtobethebiggerman.”

“Itwasn’tthat.”
“Whatwasitthen?”
“Ineededtoprotecther.”
“Why?Hewasn’thurtingherrightthen,washe?”
“No. But I needed him to know he shouldn’t ever come back. And in case you’re

wondering,”Iadded,turningtohim,“Iwoulddoitagain.Ifhecamebacktoday,I’ddo
itagain.Andagain,ifIhadto.”

“Notagoodanswer.”
“Well,it’sstillmyanswer.”
“Maybeitwouldbebetterifthisgirlwentsomeplaceelse.”
“Idon’tthinkitwould.”
“Ididn’taskyouifyouthoughtitwouldbeornot.”
“Butshe’smyfriendandthat’sthat.”Isaidfirmly.

“She’sherownperson,too,andanadult.Andifshehashalfabrain,she’llseeI’m

right.She’llmoveonwithherlifeandletyougetonwithyourlife,outoftrouble.”

It wasn’t that simple. I couldn’t make Coach understand no matter how long I

talked.No,Dejawasn’tjustafriend.Iwasn’tinlovewithheroranythinglikethat,but
therewassomethingwaydeeperbetweenus.HowcouldIexpecthimtounderstand
that?

“Didyouhearme?”heaskedaswepulledintotown.
“Yeah,Iheardyou.Idon’tknowwhatyouexpectmetosay.”
“IexpectyoutosaythatI’mright.”
“Youshouldknowbetterthanthat.”
Hesighedheavily.“Yeah,IguessIshould.”
“I’lljustneveragreewithyouonthis.I’msorry.Iwon’t.Idon’tthinkitwouldbe

betterifsheleft.WhatifhefindsheragainandI’mnotthere?”

Hedidn’tanswerforalongtime.Wewereonlyablockawayfromthehousewhen

hefinallyclearedhisthroat.“You’reagoodguy,Tyler.Imeanthat.You’reastand-up
kindofman.Iadmirethat.Youdidn’tbackdownwhenyousaidwhatyouthoughtyou
hadtodo.”

Iwaitedforsomethingelse,buthewentquietagain.“And?”
“And that’s the sort of thing that can get a person into trouble when they think

they’re the only person who can take on their friend’s problems. It’s not your
responsibility, Tyler. This is her life. You can’t be a superhero now. You have to step
backandlethertakecareofthingssoyoucantakecareofthingsforyourself.”

No. Coach would never understand how I felt. It was pointless to try to explain

myself anymore—besides, I was exhausted. I could barely think straight. “You’re
right.”

“Iknowyou’rejustsayingthat.”
Irolledmyeyes.“I’madmittingyou’reright,okay?It’snotgonnagetmuchbetter

thanthat.”

“No.Iguessitwon’t.”Hestoppedinfrontofthehouse,andIwasneversorelieved.

Itlookedbetterthaniteverhad,justthen.

Iturnedtohim.“Thankyou.Idon’twantyoutothinkI’mnotgratefulforgetting

meoutofjail.Iwould’vegonecrazyifIhadtosittheremuchlonger.AndIknowthere
wasmoretoitthanthat.Youworkedhardtohelpme.Thankyou.”

“You’rewelcome.Justdon’tmakemedoitagain.”HeputahandonmyarmasI

wasabouttogetoutofthecar.“AndthinkaboutwhatIsaid.Please.Justthinkitover.”

“Iwill.”NotthatIsawwhatgooditwoulddome,butIhadtoatleastpretendlikeI

wasthinkingaboutgettingridofDeja.Icouldn’t.Hewouldneverunderstandhowthat
wouldbelikethrowingheraway.Iwouldn’thurtherlikethat.Shehadalreadyhurt
enough.

ejamusthavebeenwaitingupformebecausethesecondIwasthroughthefront

door,herarmswerearoundmyneckandshewassqueezingthelifeoutofme.

“I’msosorry!I’mso,sosorry!Ican’tbelievethathappened!”Ididn’tgetachanceto

makesenseofwhatshewassaying,itwasallcomingoutofhermouthsofast.

“Slowdown.”Iclosedthefrontdoorandwalkedinsidethehouse.Shesteppedback

togivemeroom.Icouldtellbythewayshechewedonherlipthatshewasafraidof
themoodImightbein.“I’mnotmad,”Isaid.

“Areyousure?BecauseIwouldbemadatme.”
“Why?”
“BecauseI’mthereasonMalikcamehere.”
Ishookmyhead.“Butyoudidn’taskhimto,andyoudidn’tmakehimdoit.That

washischoice.Sono,it’snotyourfault.It’sallhim.”

“I’msosorryyougotintrouble.”Tearsfilledhereyes.Iopenedmyarms,andshe

steppedintothem.

“It’scool,Deja.It’sallovernow.”Iheldherforalongtime,andwestoodthere,just

thetwoofus.

“Whydidyoudoit?”sheasked.“Why?”
“BecauseIwantedhimtoknowhewouldnevergetthechancetohurtyouagain.

Notwhenyou’rewithme.IwoulddoitagainifIhadto.I’lldowhateverittakesfor
you.”

When she tilted her face up to mine, it only made sense to kiss her. It was all I

wantedtodojustthen.

Shewrappedherarmsaroundmyneckandpulledmecloserlikeshewashungry

forme,desperateforanythingIcouldgiveher.Somethingaboutthatdesperationhit
mehard.Shehadgonesolongbeingunloved.Shewashurtingsomuchinside.Icould
giveheralittlepeace,couldn’tI?Icouldgivehersomeoftheloveshewasmissing.I
wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion doing my thinking for me or what, but I found
myselfpickingherupandcarryingheruptomybedroom.

1 2

D E J A

t was happening. It was really happening. I was almost sure it was a dream, but it

wasn’t.Hewascarryingmeuptohisbedroom.Hewassettingmedownonthefloor
andclosingthedoorbehindus.Hewastakingmeinhisarmsandkissingmeagain,and
again,andIwastanglingmyfingersinhisdarkblondehairandholdinghisfaceclose
tomine.

He pushed me back against the dresser, then lifted me onto its surface. My hands

workedonpullinghisT-shirtoverhishead,whilehishandswereallovermybreasts
andhismouthwasonmyneck.Iwrappedmylegsaroundhishipsandranmyhands
overhisbarechestandstomachoncehisT-shirtwasonthefloor.Ikissedandlicked
hisneckwhilehedidthesametomine.Hesmelledgoodandtastedevenbetter,even
afteranightinjail.IhadwantedtotastehisskinforweeksanddrankhiminlikeIwas
dyingofthirstandhewastheonlythingthatwouldsaveme.

Ireachedbackandunhookedmyblackbra.Hepulledthestrapsovermyarmsand

threwitacrosstheroombeforehismouthwasalloverme,tastingandsucking.Ithrew
myheadbackashistongueworkeditsmagiconmynipples.Iheldontothebackofhis
head,myfingersrunningthroughhishair,lovingthefeelofhimalloverme.

Hestraightenedupandpulledmyhipsclosertohim,andIcouldfeelhishardness

againstme.Heunbuttonedmyjeans,andIpushedmyselfuponmyhandssoIcould
liftmyhipsoffthedresserandlethimslidethepantsovermyhips,thighs,calves.

Ourforeheadstouched,bothofuspanting.
“Ineedtotasteyou,”Tylergrowled.Iwastoostunnedtosayanything,soInodded.

I wasn’t used to men wanting to do that. Like actively telling me they wanted to. I
barelyhadtimetoregistershockbeforehistonguewasonme.Helappedatmybare
lips,drivingmeinsane.

“God!” I practically shouted. I was sure I would explode before he’d even gone

deeper. “Oh, that is so good…” I moaned, gripping his head even tighter than before,
grindingintohisface.

“Fuck,youtastesogood,”hegrowled.
“Please, more, please,” I begged, and he groaned. The vibration from his groaning

racedthroughme,makingmeevenmoreexcited.Italmosthurt,Iwassoturnedon.

“Tyler…Oh,mygod!Yes!Yes!”IscreamedasIcameharderthanI’devercomein

mylife.Heheldontighttomythighs,whichthreatenedtocrushhisheadasIrodeout

myorgasm.WhenIwascalmenoughtolethimgo,hegentlykissedmeonmypussy,
one more time, before standing and taking me in his arms before lifting me off the
dresser.

“Thankyou,”Imurmuredinhisearashesatonthebedwithmestraddlinghislap.
“Iwantyou,”hegrowled,andhisvoicewasraspywithneed.WasIactuallyhearing

thatcomingfromhim?WashetellingmehewantedmeorwasIonlydreamingagain?
No,itfelttooreal.Joyfullyreal.“Ineedtobeinsideyou,Deja.”

I took my time running my hands up over his strong arms and shoulders, then

wrappedmyarmsaroundhisneck.Icouldn’tbelievemyfantasywascomingtrue.

“Fuckme,”Imoaned.
EverythingI’dfantasizedabouthimwasreal,allofasudden.Icouldhardlybelieve

thewordsthatwerecomingoutofmymouth.

Ipushedhimbackuntilhewaslayingonthebed.Istartedgentlyrockingmyhips

backandforth,lovingthesensationwhilealsolovingseeingthisgorgeousmanlaidout
proneunderneathme.Hewasatmymercy,completely,andIreveledinit.

Hiseyeswereclosed,hisheadturnedawayfromme.Itookhischininmyhandand

turnedhisfacetomine.

“Lookatme,”Iwhispered.
Seeme.Beherewithme,please,myheartbegged.
He nodded, staring up at me as I pleasured him just a little. We gazed deeply into

each other’s eyes as I moved, both of us hardly breathing, not saying a word. Just
lookingateachother.Finally,Islowedtoastop.

Igotoffsohecouldrollover,takeoffhispantsandlookforacondominthebedside

table.Evenashedid,ImadesurethatIwastouchinghim–hisback,histightbutt,his
powerfulthighs.Myhandshadtingledwiththeneedtotouchhimfordays.Whenwe
weretogetherthefirsttime,wewerestilljustkids.Hewasamannow,allmuscleand
firmness.Allmineforthemoment.

“Onyourhandsandknees,”hecommanded.
AshiverwentthroughmeasIdidwhatheasked.Itwassounlikeme,butIloved

everysecondofit.Itwasasifhehadunlockedawholenewsideofmethathadalways
beenthere—dirty,nasty.AndIlovedit.

Iheardhimopenthepacketandrollthecondomoverhiseight-incherectcock.He

knelt behind me, and I felt the head press against my pussy. I was sopping wet,
quivering,readyforhim.

“Fuckme,”Igroanedagain.“Please.”
Thatwasallheneededtohear.Hechuckleddarklybeforehetookholdofmyhips

and impaled me. I gasped from the force, then moaned from the delicious feeling of
him inside me. For so long I had imagined it. And it was finally real. Better than
anythingIcouldeverhavedreamedup.

Hestartedmovinginandout,slowlyatfirst.
“Yes,baby,”Iurgedhimon,breathlesswithpleasure.Iwasrewardedwithanother

hard,deepthrust.“Yes,that’sit.Deeper…harder…”

He slapped my ass. I couldn’t believe how hot it was. I felt myself tighten around

himasmybodyreacted,makinghimgroanasIgrippedhim.Anotherspank,thistime
ontheothercheek.

“Sayit.Louder,”hecommanded.
“Yes!Deeper!”Ipantedashethrustedagain.Anotherhardthrust.Anotherspank.

Thethrillranthroughmeinwaves.

Istartedpushingbackagainsthim,matchinghismovements.Hepulledmeuponto

mykneesuntilIwasnearlyinhislap.Iwrappedmyhandaroundthebackofhisneck
topullinforakiss.Hishandsleftmyhipsandgraspedmybreasts.

“Fuck, Deja, you feel so good,” he grunted in my ear before biting the lobe. I

shivered,stillmovingupanddownhiscock.Hestartedrubbingmyclit,anditwastoo
much—his thick member moving in and out of me, his mouth licking my neck, my
shoulder,anythinghecouldreach,onehandpullingonmyhairandtheotherbetween
mylegs.

I was completely lost, pleasure all through my body, lighting me on fire from the

inside out. He started thrusting faster, faster, his own climax on its way. Finally, I
reachedthebrink.

“God! I’m gonna come!” I cried out, almost sobbed before I came with a huge,

shudderycry.

Seconds later I heard “Good girl,” in my ear. After one or two more thrusts, he

gentlyraisedmeoffhislap.Icollapsedandrolledontomyside,withhimfollowingme
secondslater.

Welaidtheretogetherinthecrazymessthatwashisbed—pillowsandsheetsjust

about everywhere. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, unable to believe
whathadjusthappened.TherewasacrazysneeronmyfacethatIcouldn’tseemtoget
ridof.Iwasalmostgiddy.

Iglancedoverathim,wherehelayonhisside,facingme.Aslowgrinspreadacross

his face, too. His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me closer. My heart raced
again.Wejustlaidthereforafewminutes.Iwisheditcouldlastforever.Ihadnever
beensohappy.

Heraisedhimselfupononearmandlookeddownatme,takinginmyentirebody.

I felt myself blushing from head to toe, and my hand slid across the bed to find
somethingtocovermyself.Hesawmyhandshootoutandhelditstill.

“Please,”Iwhimpered,nearlybegginghim.Heletgoofit,takingmychininstead.

HeturnedmyfacetohisasIhaddonetohimjustminutesbefore.

“Look at me,” he demanded. He stroked my chin and traced my jawline with his

finger.Ifeltgoosebumpsriseallovermybody.Finally,Igotthenervetolookintohis
blueeyesandinthemIsawfriendship,tenderness,understanding.Maybeevenalittle
bitofpassion,still.NotthekindofloveIwishedfor,butanotherkindoflovewasthere.

Helickedhislips.“Whywouldyouwanttocoveryourselfuplikethat?”heasked,

thenstartedlookingmeupanddownagain.“IfIlookedlikeyou,Iwouldwalkaround
withnoclothesonallthetime.”

Itookhisquestionseriously.“Please,likeIlookanythinglikethechickswhowere

just here last night,” I mumbled. I practically had to lay on my hands to keep them
fromcoveringme.Meanwhile,Icouldhaveslappedmyselfsillyforremindinghimof
othergirlswhileIwasinbedwithhim.

Heshookhishead,laughingsoftly.“Ihaveeyes.AndIhatetobreakittoyou,but

youlookjustasgoodasthem.Maybeevenbetter—youweren’trunningaroundhalf-

nakedlastnight,throwingyourselfallovertheguys.”

“Youdon’tlikethat?”Iasked.Thatwasinteresting.Ithoughtallguysloveditwhen

girlshungalloverthem—especiallyguyslikehim,whowerestudsonandoffthefield.

“Notreally.Youwannaknowwhy?”
“Please,tellme.”
“Because if I tell them I’m not interested, they’ll just throw themselves at some

other guy. It’s nothing special. They don’t want me. They just wanna get laid by a
memberofthefootballteamandI’mtheguytheyhappenedtosee.”Hebrusheditoff
like it was no big deal. I felt sorry for him then. I started seeing everything through
differenteyesandguesseditwassortofabigdeal,feelinglikeyouwerenobodyspecial
toanybodyinparticular.Meanwhile,Ihadlovedhimformostofmylife.Iwouldkillto
bewithhim.

Iranmyhandsuphisarms,overhisshoulders,tohisface.“Ithinkyou’respecial,”I

whispered.

“Thanks, but don’t change the subject. We were talking about you.” He pulled me

evenclosertohimuntilourbodiesweretouchingfromshouldertotoe.“Listentome,”
hesaid,veryseriousallofasudden.“I’mnottryingtoblowsmokeupyourass.Imean
itwhenItellyouhowbeautifulyouare.”

He reached down to touch my calf, then drew that hand up toward my knee and

passedituntilhereachedmyouterthigh.Itriedtocontrolmyself,butIcouldn’thelp
shiveringathistouch.Hewassoskillful,itwasenoughtomakemewetagain.

Somehowmyhandhadfounditswaytothebackofhishead,andmyfingerswere

tangled in his damp blonde hair. I just needed to touch him in any way I could. I
wantedhimsomuch,itwaslikeafiregrowinginsideme.Thefriendshipwasstillthere,
buttherewaslustjustunderneathit.Thatlustwasthreateningtobreaklooseandwash
overusagain.

Heshiftedslightlysothathewasslightlyaboveme,andwhenhedid,Ifelthowhard

he’dbecomeagain.Feelingthatstiffrodpressedagainstmeonlygotmemoreexcited.
I fought to keep from touching his cock, from wrapping my hand around him and
strokinghimuntilhegruntedandgroaned.ButIcouldn’tdothat.Ididn’twanttorush
it.Iwantedourtimetogethertolastaslongaspossible.Forever.

At that moment, it was just the two of us. In Tyler’s bed. Him wanting me. Me

wantinghim.

Slowly,achinglyslowly,hetracedalinewithhisfingerfrommybellyupbetween

my breasts. I forgot to breathe, watching and waiting to see what he would do. He
lingered right in the middle, making me wait to see his next move, breathless with
anticipation,beforeagainsoslowlydrawingthefingeroverthetopofoneofbreast.I
gasped when he touched my sensitive flesh. Every nerve ending in my body was on
fire at that point, and I moaned in the back of my throat as he drew a slow, teasing
circlearoundmynipple.

Heturnedhiseyestomyface,staringintothemashisthumbgrazedtheverytip.I

wantedsomuchtoclosemyeyesandlosemyselfintheblissfultorture,butIwantedto
watchhimwatchingme,too.Istaredbackintohiseyesandletoutanothersoftmoan.
Hisjawclenchedashegroaneddeepinthebackofhisthroat,anditfeltgoodtoknowI
wasturninghimon.Hiscocktwitchedagainstme,strainingforrelief.Good.Heknew

whatitfeltliketobeteaseduntilitseemedlikehisheartwouldburst,becausethatwas
whathewasdoingtome.IwouldhavebeggedifIdidn’tknowitwouldonlymakehim
takethingsmoreslowly.HewantedtoseehowfarhecouldtakemeuntilIbroke.

Afterplacingagentlekissonmyforehead,mynose,mychin,hemovedhismouth

downtoreplacethethumbthatwasstillgentlyflickingmynipple.Helicked,soslowly,
allthewayaround.Iclosedmyeyesandarchedmyback,feelingwaveafterwaveof
unspeakablepleasurewashingovermethelongerhewent.Asteadystreamofmoans
filledtheroom,brokenupbygaspsandsighsofpurepleasureashegently,butfirmly,
lickedandsuckedmytits,goingfromonetotheotherandbackagain.

“Youtastesogood…sosweet…”hemurmuredbeforesuckingagain.
I wanted more of him. The ache between my thighs was so strong, I was sure I

would die from it. I had never felt so completely turned on before, so desperate for
relief.Iwrappedmyrightlegoverhisleft,pullingitbetweenmythighs.Hegrowleda
little in response as my motion pulled him even closer to me. Just then, the entire
world revolved around the burning heat between my legs—and his thigh was right
there against it. Even a little bit of pressure was almost enough to make me come. I
startedtogrindslowly,butfirmly,againsthisleg.

Thelow,deepgroanthatcamefromhislipstraveledrightthroughmynippleand

down to my pussy. Vibration moved all through me. It only made me grind harder,
whichmadethefiregrowandgrowuntilIwasalmostgone.

Hetookhismouthawayfrommynipplelongenoughtolookdownatme.“Ican’t

get enough of you,” he murmured, his breath coming in short rasps as I worked my
pussy against his leg. He stretched out on top of me until we were face-to-face, and I
loved the sensation of his weight on top of me. He leaned on one arm, tracing my
mouthwiththethumbofhisfreehand.

I had never imagined I would love the feeling of control being passed back and

forth.Thenagain,Ihadneverreallyhadcontrolbefore.Itwasalwaysaboutwhatthe
man wanted, never what I wanted. Sometimes I came, but most of the time I didn’t.
SometimesIwouldjustliethereandwaitforhimtobefinished.Malikhadbeenthe
worst.Thesexwasfunatfirst,orelseIneverwouldhavegottenseriouswithhim.But
overtimeitturnedintomoreofthesame.Thiswasdifferent.Itwassomuchbetterto
feellikewewerebothinonitlikeweweremakingsomethingbetweenthetwoofus
thatwasn’tallaboutanorgasmattheend.Tylerhadlovedteasingmeupuntilthen.
ButthenIfeltlikeIhadcontrol,thathewastheonewhowaspassedthepointofno
returnandwouldneedtobewithmesoon.Hewastheonewhowasgettingoffonme,
watchingmepleasuremyselfonhim.Itwasadelicatething,likeabalancingact,and
therewassomethingsoprofoundlybeautifulaboutit,itmademewanttocry.

Italsomademeneedhiminsidemeonemoretime.
Iknewhowmuchmyneedtocomewasgettingtohim,sincehewashardasarock

when he pressed against my hip. He thrusted his hips just a little, rubbing his cock
against me, and I groaned when he groaned. It was so dirty and nasty and right. So
right.

Ourmouthswereonlyinchesawayfromeachotheraswestaredintoeachother’s

eyes. I built and built, climbing higher and higher. Gasping, whimpering. Our bodies
rubbedtogether,hishandslidingbetweenustomassagemybreasts,whichonlymade

memoanlouder.Irubbedmypussyagainsthim,harder,faster,moaningandcrying
out,ashisfacehoveredinchesovermineandhiseyestookineverythinghappening
underneathhim.

“That’sright,”hewhisperedraggedly,“comeforme.Letmewatchyoucome,baby”.
ThatwasallIneededtoflyovertheedge,andanorgasmhitmelikeatidalwave.

Myfingersdugintohisback.Iheardhimgroanagainstmyneckasmynailsscratched
acrosshisshoulders.Hisnamecamefrommymouthinbetweengaspsforbreath,as
mywholebodywaswrackedwithblissfulpleasure.Then,finally,iteasedup.Icould
breatheagain.Istoppedclenchingaroundhimandrelaxed.Isankintothebed,spent,
breathless,alittleweak.

My eyes were still closed. Once the heat had passed, I felt ashamed for rubbing

myselfoffonhim.ButmyshamefadedawayonceIrealizedhewasgentlykissingmy
face—cheeks,eyelids,nose,chin.Iopenedmyeyesandsawhimsmilingdownatme.
“You’resobeautiful,”hemurmured.

Ireachedupandgentlybrushedmylipsagainsthis.Hislipspressedagainstmine,

softly,tenderly.Ikeptstraining,reachingup,wantingmore,buthepulledawayagain
andagain.Hewasplayingwithme,andIlovedthat,too.Ilovedthatwecouldenjoy
eachotherlikethat.Ithadtomeantherewassomethingrealbetweenus.Itjusthadto.

Butwedidn’tplayforlong,asthehardnessthatwasstillpressingintomybellytook

over, and his kiss became deeper, more passionate. Our tongues danced and I heard
himgroanintomymouth.Myhandsrandownhisbackanddugintohisass,pulling
him closer, urging him on, begging him to push his way inside me. Just like that, I
wanted him again. I would never stop wanting him. I would never stop craving him
morethanIhadevercravedanything.

“Fuck me,” I moaned desperately, then pulled his mouth back down to mine for

anotherkissthatseemedtolastforever.

Finally,hefoundanothercondomandputitonoverhisstrainingcock.Helowered

himself back over me and guided his erect cock inside me. I gasped again at the
sensationoffeelingsofilled—hewasbiggerthananybodyelseI’deverbeenwith.

He didn’t move right away. He stayed there, inside me, looking down at me. I

looked up at him. What was happening between us? I needed to believe it. Nobody
couldlookatanotherpersonthewayhewasintenselylookingatmejustthenandnot
careaboutthem.Maybeheevenlovedme.IletalltheloveIhadforhimcomeoutin
thewayIlookedbackupathim.Ihadlovedhimforsolong.Soverylong.

It felt more natural. Sweeter, softer. I still wanted him like crazy, and I knew he

wantedme,too,butthefrenzywasover.Wewerebothcalmer,andwhenhemoved
again,somethinghitmelikealightningbolt.We’remakinglove,Ithought.Ihadnever
madelovebefore.

And that’s what we did. Slowly Tyler pulled out, a little at a time, then pushed his

way back inside me. I whimpered a little, which made him chuckle. In, out, back in
again.Wefoundourrhythmtogether,takingourtime,gettingitright.Iwrappedmy
legsaroundhimtopullhiminevenfurther,justwantingtotouchhim,everypartof
him,everyinchofhiscockinmeandeveryinchofhispaleskinonmine.Wewereall
wrappedupineachother,armsandlegstangledtogetheraswegropedandkissedand
touched.Igrippedhisshoulders,hisarms,hisback,hisneck—anythingIcouldgetmy

handson.Ikissedandlickedanythingmymouthcouldreach—thecurveofhisjaw,his
chin, his throat, his shoulders. My thighs held him tight against me. I heard his soft,
deepgruntsagainstmyneckeverytimehethrustedintome.

His thrusts got faster, harder. Deeper. More delicious. I closed my eyes and sank

furtherintoit,lettinghimrideme.Iwantedhimtotakemeandmarkme,makeme
his,claimmeashisown.Iwasthereforhim,justforhim.Hecoulddowhathewanted,
andIwouldloveit.IknewIwouldloveit,becauseIlovedhim.BecauseItrustedhim.
Itrustedhimtotakemetotheedgeandbeyondagain.

He straightened his arms and pushed himself up, then plunged into me harder,

faster, deeper. His eyes were closed, his mouth open as he sighed with pleasure. He
threw his head back as I ran my hands down his throat and chest to where our slick
bodiesmet,thenbackupagain.Hetookoneofmyfingersintohismouthandsucked
thetipbeforebitingit.

Thenheshiftedontohisknees,andIliftedthelowerhalfofmybodyoffthebed.

Taking my hips in his hands, he started pounding into me with hard, fast strokes. I
braced my feet on the bed and jerked my hips upward to meet him, over and over,
faster,untilIwantedtoscreamasthetensionbuiltinsidemycore.Icouldn’ttakeit.It
wouldkillmeifitdidn’tbreaksoon.Iwoulddiefromeuphoricpleasure.

Butitdidn’tbreak,andIdidn’tdie.Instead,Tylerslowedbackdown,andhesaton

hiscalvesbeforepickingmylegsupandwrappingthemaroundhisneck,runninghis
handsupanddownfromankletohipandbackagain.Ipushedbackandforth,using
my legs for leverage against his chest, moving my hips in slow, sensual circles. He
tonguedmyanklesandthesolesofmyfeetandtheinsidesofmykneesasthrustedin
andout,ourmoansmixingtogetherandfillingtheroomwithsound.

Then his moans got louder, his thrusts stronger. I knew he was holding on until I

cameagain,soIdecidedtoputonashow.Itookmyfeetfromhisshouldersandput
them back on the bed, one on either side of him. Then I reached down and began
rubbingmyclitwhilehewatched.

“Oh,shit,”hemoaned,andImoaned,too.Ilovedwatchinghim,hisblueeyesglued

tomyhand,watchingasIpushedmyselffurtherandfurther.Knowinghowmuchhe
loveditmademeworkevenfasterasIfeltmymusclestighteningaroundhiscock.

“Youlikethat?”Iaskedbreathlessly.“Doyoulikewatchingmeplaywithmyself?”
“Mmm-hmm,”hemoaned,stillthrusting,“Iloveit,baby.Letmewatchyoucome

again.”

Iscreamedasithitme,hard,andIclenchedaroundhislengthasIcame.Mybody

pulsed and quivered in pleasure, and I rolled my head from side to side as I tried to
surviveit.Histhrustsgotfaster,faster,deeper,lesscontrolled.Hegroanedandwitha
huge,hardshudder,camewithme.Iheldmyarmsouttohim,andhenearlycollapsed
intothem.

I wrapped my arms around his back and kissed his neck and shoulders as he

groanedagainstmyneck.Hestiffenedthenshudderedinmyarms.Igentlystrokedhis
backandkissedhimashehadkissedmeearlierwhenIfinished.

After a split-second of stillness, he slipped out of me and pulled off the condom

before settling back over me. His heart raced. It matched my own heartbeat. Slowly,
we calmed down, our arms wrapped around each other, holding onto each other in

that moment of utter vulnerability that exists right after sex. His face was flush and
hiddeninmymessyblackhair,myneck,soIcouldn’tseehowhefelt.Ididn’tknow
whathewouldthinkaboutwhatwehadjustdone.Icouldonlyhopehewouldn’thate
himself—orme.

AllIcoulddowaskisshisneckandshoulderwhilestrokinghisbackasourbreath

becamenormalagain.TearsfilledmyeyeswhenIthoughtabouthowhemightregret
making love with me. It would kill me. It would completely crush my heart. But I
wouldalwaysrememberit,justlikeIrememberedthatnightinmybedroomallthose
yearsbefore.

“Iloveyou,Tyler,”Imouthedsilently,staringattheceiling.
Hepushedhimselfupthen,justgivingmeenoughtimetowipethetearsfrommy

eyes.

“Iguessyoushouldsleepupherefromnowon,”hesaid.Icouldonlynod.Iwastoo

chokeduptosayanything.

1 3

“

T Y L E R

ome on, you pansy-ass mama’s boys!” Coach screamed as we worked out. “I’ve

seen more heart put into a workout at the gym on New Year’s Day than I’m seeing
fromanyofyourightnow!”

Thatwasoneofhisfavoritelines,andweallrolledoureyesbehindhisback.Iwas

working my ass off, dripping beads of sweat on the floor. I didn’t know how much
morehewantedfromme.

Coach got in Brett’s face as he bench pressed. “And, you! You think they’re gonna

accept a half-ass effort at the Combine, boy? You’d better think again! They’re gonna
have you working harder than I ever made you work. You’re gonna wish you were
neverborn.”

“I’m…starting…to…wish…that…now…” Brett replied in between reps. Those of us

withenoughbreathtolaugh,did.Icouldn’t.IfeltlikeIwasaboutreadytopassthehell
out, but I knew if I slacked off even a little bit—even if I was only looking like I was
slacking off—Coach would be down my throat. I didn’t need that in my life. Nobody
did.

I was walking on eggshells again, and everybody knew it this time. I wished they

didn’t.Iwishedtheywouldalljustleavemethefuckalone.Theyknewaboutthearrest
becausetheywereallthere,andtheyknewwhyIgotarrested.Icouldtelltheyagreed
with Brett, that Deja needed to go. I had told Brett that morning that she found an
apartmentamileawayfromus,andhewashappierthanIhadseenhiminalongtime.
Still, things were off between us since I haven’t forgiven him for going into Deja’s
phone.IwishedIcouldunderstandwhatthebigdealwastohaveherstaywithus.It
wasn’tlikeshehadtrashedthehouse—ifanything,shemadeitmuchbetter.Andshe
mademehappierthanIhadbeeninalongtime.

Whywasn’tthatenough?
AndwhydidCoachkeepgivingmelooks?Whydidhesneeratmealittle?WhydidI

catchhimshakinghisheadwhenhethoughtIwasn’tlooking?Fuckthisshit.Icouldn’t
stand it anymore, the feeling that I was alone on my team. I managed to keep my
mouthshutandfightmywaythroughmyworkout.

Theshowerwasquiet.Muchmorequietthanusual.IfeltlikeitwasbecauseIwas

there.Nobodywantedtosaywhattheywerethinking.Iwishedjustoneofthemwould
have the fucking balls to say what was on their mind—it had been a week, but they

werestillavoidingme.

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut anymore by the time I got dressed. I walked to

Coach’sofficeandknockedontheopendoor.Helookedupfromhiscomputerscreen
andwavedmein.Ishutthedoorbehindmebeforesittingdown.

“Oh,sothedoor’sshut.Thatmustmeanthisissomethingprettyimportant.”
“It is,” I said. Coach sounded like he was kidding, or at least being sarcastic, but I

wasn’tinthefuckingmood.

“So?What’sgoingon?”
“Iwantedtoknowifyouheardanythingabouttheheadoftheathleticdepartment

findingoutaboutthearrest.”

“NotthatI’mawareof—andifhehadfoundout,trustme,I’dbeawareofit.”
“Good.”
Hewaitedwitheyebrowsraised.“Anythingelse?”
Icouldn’tleavewithoutsayingsomething.“What’sthedealwitheverybodyaround

herelately?”

Helookedlikehehadexpectedmetosaysomethingifthesmirkonhisfacemeant

anything. He leaned back in his chair and looked at me through narrowed eyes,
poppinghisgum.Itfeltlikeayear,maybemore,beforehesaidanything.

“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean,kid.”
“I’mnotinthemood,Coach.”
“What’s wrong? Nobody’s sucking your dick anymore? Is that what you’re talking

about?”

“Excuseme?”
“Comeon,Tyler.Yourteammateswatchedyouloseyourshitandgetarrested—you!

You, of all people. You have everything going for you. You’re one of the cleanest
players I ever had, too. You chase pussy, yes, but you don’t let yourself get too
involved.”

“Really,Coach?”
“What?WhatI’msayingis,youdon’tpartythewaytherestofthemdo.Youeven

hadasummerjob,forChrist’ssake.You’relikethegoldenboy.Andthenyougoand
beattheshitoutofsomerandomstrangerinfrontofhalftheschool.”

“Itwasn’thalftheschool.”
“Itwasenoughpeoplethatwordtraveledfast.Welcometotheageoftheinternet.

Getusedtoyourshitbeingoutthereinthepublicwhenyou’reinthepros.”

I shrugged that off. “So how come, if all of them know, the head of the athletic

departmentdoesn’tknow?”

“As far as he’s concerned, you were taken in for questioning and released. He

doesn’tknowtheywantedtokeepyouthereuntilIsweet-talkedthemintolettingyou
go.”

I shifted uncomfortably when Coach brought up what he had done for me. There

was no way I could ever repay him for that, and it didn’t make me feel too good to
knowit.ButIdidn’twanthimholdingitovermyheadfortherestofmylife,either,
andthatpissedmeoffalittle.

“Youknow,ifyou’rejustgonnaremindmeoverandoverwhatyoudidforme,it

almostmakesmewishyouhadn’t.”

Coachonlylaughed.“You’resofullofshit.Youcanpretendtobeahardassforthe

restofthepeoplearoundyou,butyoucan’tfoolme.”

Ifeltmyfacegettingred—notwithembarrassment,butwithanger.Theworstthing

Icould’vedonejustthenwaslosemycoolonCoach,sincehewastheonlypersonIhad
inmycornertohelpmethroughwhatwascomingup.HeknewallabouttheCombine
and Draft since he’d been through it himself. He was a promising defensive end for
three seasons, until a bad hit ended his career forever. I couldn’t imagine something
likethathappeningtomeafteralltheworkIputintobuildingacareerinthepros.

“Youthinkyou’reready?”heasked.Itwaslikehewasreadingmymind.
“AsreadyasI’lleverbe.”
“Idon’tdoubtyou’lldojustfine—aslongasyougetyourshittogetherandkeepit

thatway,”hewarnedme.

“Noted.”
“So,what’sgoingonwiththegirl?”
I shifted again. “She’s on her way out. She’ll be living in an apartment with two

othergirls.Juniors.One’safriendofminefromKappaAlphaTheta.”

“Eventhoughshedoesn’tgotoschool?”heasked,andhelookedskeptical.
“She’sthinkingabouttakingcourses,”Ilied.
“Oh.That’sgood.I’mgladshe’sonagoodpath.Soshe’sjustgonnastayherewhen

youleave?”

“Yeah,whynot?We’renotmarriedoranything.She’sjustagoodfriend.”
“Comeon.Youdon’tbeataguythewayyoubeatthatguywhenyou’reonlygood

friendswithagirl.Iwasbornatnight,butitwasn’tlastnight.”

Isnickered.“She’sstillgonnastay.”
“Good.”Henoddedslowly.“Shehasalotofworktodotogetherlifetogether,and

sodoyou.”

“Youknowwhat?”Ipausedthenstoodupandleaneddownwithmyhandsonthe

desk. “I’m so fucking tired of hearing about Draft Day and how it’s gonna make or
breakmyentirelife.Doyouknowthekindofpressurethatputsonaperson?”

“Yes,Ido.”Helookedatmewithasteadygaze.Hedidn’tevenblink.
“Sowhyareyoudrivingmecrazywithit?”
“Justbecauseyoudon’tliketohearit,doesn’tmakeitanylesstrue.”Coachshook

hishead.“Youactlikethisisabadthing,likesomebody’spunishingyoubysayingyou
have a shot at playing professional football. The NFL. Everybody else is taking it
seriously.Ithoughtyoudid,too.”

“Ido.”
“Then how come you’re only working half as hard as Brett and Jacob? You’ll be

pickedwaybeforethem,probablyinthefirstorsecondround,butthey’reputtingtheir
heartintopreparingforthis,andyou’rebarelyphoningitin.”

“Nah.That’snottrue.”
“Yeah, it is. I know you well enough, and I’ve see you play long enough to know

whenyourhead’sinit.You’rejustnotthere.Youalwayshadthementaledgegoingfor
you.Whathappenedtothat?”

Icouldn’targuewithhim,butIdidn’twanttoagree,either.Istoodupandfolded

myarms.“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,Coach.You’renotinmyhead,so

don’tactlikeyouare.”

“Suit yourself. Keep lying to yourself, if that’s what you think is gonna make you

happy.I’mjusttryingtogiveittoyoustraight.”

Icouldn’tsayanotherwordtothesnidebastard—Iwasafraidofwhatwouldhappen

ifIdid.SoIleft,slammingthedoor.Ipaceddownthehallandouttomycar,thensped
home.Ihopedthefellaswouldn’tbethere,sinceIwasn’tinthemoodtotalktoanyof
them.Ihalf-wishedIweremovingoutwithDeja,too.

Whendidthingsgetsodamnbad?
IhatedthatIknewtheanswer.Ididn’twanttoadmitittomyself.ButwhenIgot

home,andDejastumbledalittleonherwayacrossthelivingroomtogivemeahug,
thetruthwasprettyclear.

“Getoffthefuckoffme,”Ipushedherawayfromme,handsonherarms.“You’re

fuckingdrunkagain,aren’tyou?”

Shebrushedifofflikeitdidn’tmeananything.
“Youneedtogetyourshittogether.”
“Andyouneedtowatchwhothefuckyou’retalkingto.”
“Fuck,Deja!”Igrowled.
“What?”
“Whydoyouhavetodothis?Isthiswhereallyourmoneygoes?Toalcohol?”
Iwenttothekitchenandpickedupthehalf-emptybottleofvodkaonthecounter.

Whatbotheredmethemostwasthattherewerethreeburnersgoingonthestove,but
shehadleftthemtocomegreetme.Shewascookingoveragasflamewhiledrinking.
Whathappenedifshespilledherdrinkanywhereneartheburners?Itookoverforher.

“What the fuck are you doing! I can cook for my fucking myself!” Deja tried to

shovemeoutofthewaybutonlystumbledandendedupfallingintoachair.

“Youneedtosoberthefuckup,fast.”Icouldhardlylookatherjustthen.“Iriskeda

lotforyouandyou’retooselfishtorealizeyou’reputtingmyfuturefootballcareerin
jeopardy.”

Shedidn’tsayanythingforawhile.Icouldjustfeelherboiling.Finally,shegotup

and left the kitchen. “Well, if I’m burden then I’ll just fucking leave, so you continue
livingyourlifeasifInevercamebackinthefirstplace!”

Iheardherstompingupthestairsanddidn’tgoafterher.Itwouldn’tbeprettyifI

did.

When she didn’t come back after twenty minutes, and dinner—spaghetti and

meatballs—wasfinished,Iwentuptoseewhatshewasdoing.Shewouldprobablybe
passedout,Iassumed.

Nope.Herthingsweregone.Shehadleft.Iranoutthedoor—hercarwasgone.
“Fuck!” She couldn’t drive when she was like that. She would kill herself. I ran to

my car and jumped in. I knew where she was moving to. We had just driven passed
therethatmorning.Iwentthereinthehopesthatthatwaswhereshehadgone.When
Isawhercarinfrontofthebuilding,Ibreathedasighofreliefandrestedmyheadon
thesteeringwheel.

ThenInoticedshewasstillsittinginthecar.Herheadwasbackagainsttheseat.It

lookedlikeshewascrying.Ihatedtomakehercry.Iknewitwasn’tright,thatIshould
letherliveherlifeandmakemistakes—shewassafe,shehadn’tkilledanybody,soI

hadnoreasontogoafterher.ButIgotoutofmycaranywayandcrossedthestreetto
whereshesat.Hereyeswereclosed,sowhenItappedonthewindow,shejumpedin
surprise.

“Justleavemethefuckalone,Tyler,”shesaidaftersherolleddownthewindow.
“Iwantedtomakesureyouwereokay,”Isaid.
Sheshrugged.“Ifigureditwaseasierthanlettingyoujudgemeandputmedown.I

gotthatenoughallmylifeandIdon’tneedtohearitfromsomeonewhoIdeeplycare
about.”

“Wouldyoustopwiththejudgingbullshit?I’msorryifIthinkit’salittleoverboard

todrinkinthemiddleoftheday,alone.We’renottalkingaglassofwine,either.You’re
drunk.Andyoudrove.Areyoutryingtokillyourself?You’renotthinking,Deja,andI
don’thavetimeforthisshit.Whycan’tyouseewhatyou’redoingtoyourself!”

“Ijustwantedtogetawayfromyou.”
“Idon’tgiveafuckwhatyouweretryingtodo!”Ishouted.“You’renotthinking!”
“Youneedtogetthefuckoutofmyface,”sherolledherbrowneyes.“Itwasjusta

mile.”

“Look,I’mnotgoingtogobackandforthwithyou,”Ilookedupattheapartment

building—oneofthoseboxy,squat,nondescriptbuildings.“Youwantsomehelpgetting
yourshitinside?”

“Thatwouldbenice.Thankyou.”
Iopenedthebackdoorandpulledoutacoupleofthebags.Shetooktherestinside.

Itwasforthebestthatshewouldbelivingawayfromme.Ihadnotoleranceforher
erraticbehavioranddrinkingproblem.Yes,Icaredforhermorethanshewouldever
know,butIhadtoputmyfootdownandletherknowIwasn’tfuckingaround.Ionly
hopedshecouldkeepherselfundercontrol.

1 4

D E J A

twas a busy morning at the diner, which was a real pain in the ass for me, since I

wasn’tfeelingverywell.IfeltlikeshitatthewayImadeTylerlosehiscoolatme.What
wasIthinking?IfeltlikeIwaslosingcontrol.

“Youokay,honey?”DottielookedconcernedwhenImetupwithheratthewindow

topickupatable’sworthoffood.

“I’mgood,Dottie.Why?”Ipulledmyplatesoutofthewindowandarrangedthem

onmytray.Afterjustafewweeksofcarryingthem,liftingatrayontomyshoulderwas
apieceofcake.Ialwaysusedtowonderhowpeopledidthat.IalwaysfiguredIwould
dropitifItried.Turnedout,itwaseasiertocarrythatway.

“Youlookalittleoff,honey.Maybeyoushouldsitdownforalittlewhile.”Shewas

themotherlytype,andIcouldseewhyTylerlikedhersomuch.

Ishookmyhead,thentuckedbehindmyearaloosestrandofhairthathadfallen

outofmyponytail.“It’stoobusy.I’llbefine.Thankyou.”

“Thatstudmuffinyou’redatingkeepingyouupatnight?”
Igiggledalittlebuthadtocorrecther.“Idon’tthinkwe’redating.”
“No?Hmm.Ithoughtyoutwolookedcutetogether.”
IgiggledagainasIliftedupmytray.Welookedcutetogether.Yeah,wedid.AndI

wished I could say we were dating, but I couldn’t because we weren’t. We were
sleeping together. That was it. And even though I told myself it was all right, that I
didn’twantanythingelsefromhim,itwasn’ttrue.Iwantedmore.Buthedidn’t.

BecauseIwasn’tgoodenough.Iwouldneverbegoodenough.Thethoughtmade

myhandshakealittleasIpouredfreshcoffee,anditsplashedonthetable.Luckily,it
missedmycustomer’slap.

“Damn, I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I cleaned it up. He seemed all right with it.

Everybodyintownseemedsofriendly.Iwasluckythatway.

Malikhadnevercomebackinthetwoweekssinceheshowedup.Istillwasn’tsure

howhehadfoundme.Knowinghim,hehiredaninvestigatororsomething.Theman
could hardly afford his rent, but could always afford dumb things. Like his drugs, for
instance. I wouldn’t put it past him to hire somebody to track me down. Well, stupid
him.Hefoundoutfastenoughwhatabadideathatwas.

I remembered the sight of him on the ground with his mouth all bloody. I shook

again, and I almost dropped a platter of eggs and bacon that time. At least I didn’t

actuallydoit.

“Sorry,” I murmured. Then I turned and caught Dottie’s eye across the room and

pointedtotherestroom.Ineededaquickbreak.

Ofcourse,thatmeantleaningagainstthewallofthebathroomstallwithmyflaskin

myhand.Idrankuntiltheshakingstopped.ThenIdrankalittlebitmore.

Iwassotired.Tylerhadstayedoverthenightbefore,andwewereupmostofthe

night,eventhoughhehadaworkoutbeforeclassinthemorningandIhadtogoinfor
the breakfast shift. I liked it in my apartment. The sorority girls were nice, and they
were busy with school and jobs, so they didn’t bother me much. I had the place to
myselfmostofthetime,andwhentheywerethere,itwasfun.Wesharedthekitchen
—aboutthesizeoftheoneatTyler’shouse—livingroomanddiningroom.Itwascute
and charming, with lots of girly touches like throw pillows and flowers and candles.
They were just like I had always imagined girls in college would be like. And I could
pretendIwaslikeoneofthem,whichwasthebestpart.Iwasmakinggoodmoneyin
tips,soIboughtmyselfclothesthatlookedliketheirs.Ifeltcuteandputtogetherfor
thefirsttimeinmylife.

AnditwasallthankstoTyler.
He was the reason I had the courage to step out and do things like that—meeting

newpeopleandchangingmyselfaroundsoIcouldbeproudofmyselfforonce.Ididn’t
feelliketheothergirlswerebetterthanme.Foronce,Iwasgettingitalltogether.

IsatdownontheclosedtoiletandrememberedmynightwithTyler.Wehadstayed

upforhours,justtalkingaboutanythingandeverythingthatcametomind.Itoldhim
about my life in my old neighborhood, which was something I wanted to forget but
needed to process first—or so he told me. He would know better than I would, Mr.
CollegeBoy.ItoldhimthatI’dheardMcGregordiedtwoyearsafterIagedoutofthe
fostersystem.Neitherofuswassadtoknowhewasgone.

He’dtoldmeabouthowdifferenteverythingseemedtohimwhenhe’dfirststarted

college.Howweirditwastohearstoriesfromhisfriendsabouttheirfamilies.Families
theyloved.Whentheparentswouldcometoschooltovisit,andhe’dfeelawkwardand
out-of-place because he didn’t have anybody to visit him. I told him I wished I could
havebeenthereforhimbackthen,andImeantit.Iwouldhavestillbeenhis“sister”,if
Icouldhave,buthehadn’tevengivenmeaphonenumberwhereIcouldreachhim
whenheleft.

Andthenwe’dmadelove.
Itwasn’turgentorfranticlikewenormallydidit,butslow.Sweet.Whenhe’dfirst

kissed me after all that talking, something special had happened. There was a
sweetnesstoit,aheatthatwasn’tsexual.I’dsighedasIkissedhimback.Hehadwhat
I’dbeenmissing.IknewIcouldtrusthimwitheverything,allofme.Icouldholdhim
closeandtouchhim.Icouldlethimtouchandtasteme.IcouldbeasloudasIwanted,
andIdidn’thavetoholdanythingback.Icouldlaughonesecondandcryoutinecstasy
thenext,anditwasallright.

We’d had a lot of fun for the first time, too rolling back and forth, wrapped up in

each other, kissing and touching. He’d liked it when I stroked the area just over his
tailbone.Itturnedhimintoamoaning,groaningmess.I’djustaboutpurredlikeacat
whenhelickedthebackofmyneck.

EvenwhenIfelthimpressingagainstmythigh,weweren’tinanyhurry.He’dtaken

histimebuildingmeup,slowly,kissingeveryinchofmybody.I’dopenedmyeyesand
watchedhim,howgentlehewaswithme,howhetookhistimeandmadesurehedid
everythingright.Histonguehadsweptovertheinsidesofmyknees,thecurveofmy
ass,mynavel.

Whenthetimehadcomeforhimtocompletelyenterme,itwasthemostheavenly

feelingIcouldimagine.Hemademefeelcomplete.Andhewassogood.Therewasso
muchpowerinhisbody.Thatpowermovedbackandforthfromhimtomeandmeto
him as he moved and I moved. He could have used that power against me, he could
have hurt me, but he didn’t. He had only thrust into me slowly, building the heat by
inches.

I’dwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaist,pullinghimin,feelinggreedy.I’dwantedhim

allatonce,allofhim,fillingmeuplikeonlyhecould.Nobodyhadeverfilledmelike
that. I’d kissed his neck and shoulders, his chest, his jaw and listened to the way he
groanedwhenIdid.Histhrustshadspedupalittlefaster.Hisbreathwashotonmy
skin,histonguelickingmeuntilImoanedhisnameasheplungedinsidemeoverand
over.Ihadrakedmynailsoverhisbroadshouldersandback,markinghimup.He’d
hissedbetweenclenchedteeth.Icouldn’tstandit.Ihadneededtoreleasethetension,
andwhenIdid,I’dtightenedaroundhimuntilIexplodedandscreamedintohisneck.

My hands had found his, and I’d linked my fingers with his as his thrusts went

deeper…faster…lesscontrolled…moreerratic.I’dwatchedhiscrimsonfacechanging
asthepleasuregottobetoomuch,andwecametogether.

Somethinghadhappenedthen,too.IfeltclosertoTylerthanIeverhadbefore,inall

theyearswekneweachother.IfeltclosertohimthanIeverhadtoanybody,really.
AndI’dwonderedifhefeltthesame…

“Deja!”
Iopenedmyeyesandsatup,confused.WherewasI?OneminuteIwasinbedwith

TylerandthenextIwassittinginastall…

“Shit!”Ijumpedup.Damnit,Ichosethestallwiththebrokenlock.Ifyoupushed

hardenough,youcouldgetinfromtheoutside.

Dottie’seyesshifteddownwardasshelookedatthefloor,andIlookeddowntosee

what caught her attention. Oh, God, no. My flask had been on my lap. It fell when I
jumpedup.

She looked up at me, and I saw sadness in her eyes.“I’m sorry, honey, but I can’t

keepyouonhereifyou’redrinkingonthejob.”

“Please,Dottie.Itwasjustthisonetime.I’msorry.Ithoughtitwouldhelpmefeela

littlebetterandgetthroughtheshift.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t allow it. Sleeping on the job and drinking while you’re

working.It’stoomuch.”

I picked up the flask and left the bathroom, walking straight out the door without

pickingupthetipsIwasdue.Iwastoohumiliatedtohangaround.Ihadfuckedup,yet
again.

WhatwasIsupposedtotellTyler?

1 5

T Y L E R

esatthereinCoach’soffice,thethreeofus.Itwasn’tcomfortable.Theroomwasn’t

toobiginthefirstplace,andthreefootballplayersmadeitseemalotsmaller.

Coach had spent two hours taking us through the process behind the Combine. It

wasjustalittlemorethanaweekaway.Icouldn’tbelieveit.ItfeltlikeChristmas—you
spendthewholeyearlookingforwardtoitwhenyou’reakid,butallofasudden…it’s
gone.Itcomesandgoes,andyouwonderwhathappenedandhowtimeactsthewayit
does.

ThatwashowIfeltaswesatthere.Itwasallreal.Itwashappening.IfeltlikeIwas

ontopoftheworld,justthen.ItoldmyselfeverydaythatDejawasrightwhenshesaid
Ihadtalentandability.Itwasn’ttheendoftheworldthatpeopleexpectedthingsfrom
me—itwould’vebeenahellofalotworseiftheydidn’texpectanything.ThenI’dhave
somethingtobitchandmoanabout.WhenIrememberedhowwhinyIhadsounded
whenItoldherIwasscaredtomessup,Iwantedtobitchslapmyself.Whowasthat
person?Itdidn’tsoundlikeme.Iwasnevertheguywhobackeddown.AndIwasn’t
goingtobethatguyanytimesoon.

“Youpayingattention?”Coachasked.
“Yup.WemeetwiththeshrinksonSaturdayafternoon.Igoinatone-fifteen.”
He smirked. “Right.” He moved on to other parts of the weekend, what we could

expect.He’dbeentherehimself,anditfeltlikeIhadanedgeoversomeoftheother
fellaswho’dbegoinginblind.

I could tell he was trying to spend time going over things with Brett and Jacob,

maybeevenmorethanhewastalkingtome.Icouldunderstandthat.Hedidn’twantto
makeitlooklikehewasfavoringmesomehow.WeallknewIwouldgetpickedbefore
them.Maybewaybeforethem.Theyweretalented,sure,moretalentedthanmostof
theotherguysontheteam.Butitwasn’tthesame.

Ifoundmymindwandering,nomatterhowhardItriedtokeepmyfocusonwhat

Coachwassaying.IstartedthinkingaboutDeja.Whatwasshegoingtodowithherself
whenIgotdrafted,anyway?Wherewouldshego?Iwantedhertohaveagoodlife.I
didn’twanthertothinkshehadtofollowmearound.

DidIevenwantherto?
Itwasgreatwherewewere,justthen.Thesexwasoff-the-chartsanditwasfunto

betogether.IfinallyfeltlikeIhadsomebodyIconnectedwithonalllevels.Icouldbe

myselfaroundher.Ididn’thavetobecarefulnottotalkaboutcertainthings,likemy
deceasedparents.Nobodywantedtohearaboutbeinganorphan,butallofmyfriends
had great families. Some of them were even rich. Like we had anything in common
there.

IneverknewhowmuchIneededheruntilsheshowedup.IrealizedIhadmissed

herallalong.Notjustsomebodylikeher,buther.Specifically,her.

Thatwasprobablywhythesexwassogood.Becausewekneweachotherlikethat.

She let me feel things I wasn’t used to feeling, and I was better to her in bed than
anybodyelseeverwas,orsoshetoldme.AndIbelievedher.Ididn’tthinksomebody
likeMalikwouldgodownonherfortwentyminutesthewayIdidandmakesureshe
camefirst.

Ithoughtbacktothelasttimeweweretogetheratmyplace.Wewereintheshower

aftertheotherfellashadleftforclass.Itwasabigtub,oneofthoseold-fashionedones
withtheclawfeet.Youcouldbatheawholefamilyinthereatthesametime,Iguessed.
Morelikeaswimmingpool.

Ihadsoapedherupintherewhileshesoapedmeup,andthehotwaterpouringout

oftheshowerheadhadsteamedtheroomuntilwealmostcouldn’tseeeachother.But
we could feel each other. Her firm, ripe tits were heavy in my hands, and I slid my
palms over them. Then I’d moved down to her ass and run my fingers up and down
untilIendedupslidingthroughherwet,hotpussy.Ishiftedalittleinmychairtohide
thewaymycockstartedgrowingwhenIthoughtaboutit.GoodthingIhadabinderin
mylap.Icouldcoveritup.

Meanwhile, she had soaped up my cock and slid her hand up and down, up and

down, faster and faster. I’d just about passed out, it felt so good. She had whispered
nasty things in my ear while she jerked me off, telling me how much she loved my
cockandhowshecouldn’twaittofeelitinsideherwhenIfuckedhersenseless.How
she wanted me to come on her tits. Then she’d knelt in the tub, and I’d watched as I
shotmyloadacrossherchest.Shehadgrinnedupatme.

Aftershe’dwashedoff,Ihadtakenmytimeplayingwithher.I’dpickeduponeof

herlegsandputherfootontheedgeofthetub,thenslidmyhandbackandforthover
herpussyuntilshebeggedmetofingerherandlethercome.ButIdidn’trightaway.I
had teased her even more, experimented with different touches to see how she
reacted. When I pressed harder, when I backed off, when I pinched her clit versus
whenIflickeditbackandforth.WhenIusedthreefingersinhersoppingpussy,then
whenIusedmythumbonherclitatthesametime.Afterawhile,I’dstoppedcounting
howmanytimesshecame.

Butthatwasn’ttheend.Theenddidn’tcomeuntilwegotoutoftheshower—wehad

tosinceweusedupallthehotwater—andwentbacktomybedroom.WhenIslurped
up her sweet juices from her pussy and made her come again, then flipped her over
andtookherfrombehind.WhenshethrewherheadbackandforthasIfuckedher,
thewaterflyingfromtheendsofherhairasshedid.

“Yes!Fuckme!Harder,baby!”she’dgroaned,andIcouldn’thelpbutfuckherlike

ananimalwhenshetalkedthatway.Imadeherscreamandbegformore,slappingher
asswhenIdid,poundingintoheruntilwebothcame,thenprettymuchpassingoutfor
afewhourstorecuperate.Bythetimewewokeup,itwasnoon—andwediditagain

then,too.

Ineverknewanybodylikeher.Ididn’tthinkwomenenjoyedsexthewaythatshe

did.Perhaps,itwasbecauseIletherbeherself.

“Ithinkyouboysareasreadyasyou’lleverbe,”Coachsaid.Isnappedmyselfback

toattention,rememberingwhyIwasthereinCoach’sofficeinthefirstplace.Itwasn’t
tofantasizeaboutwhatIwantedtodotoDejawhenIleft,either.

Iheldthebinderinfrontofmeasweleft,andnobodyseemedtonoticeorcare.I

knewBrettandJacobwerebusytalkingabouttheirplansfortheupcomingweekend.

“OurflightsatnineonFridaymorning,right?”
Brettsneeredatme.“Right.Ican’tbelieveit’salmosthere.”
Inodded.
Jacobshookhishead.“Idon’tknowwhatI’lldointhetimebetweenthenandthe

Draft.Imean,arewestillsupposedtogotoclassandshit?”

MycellphonerangasIreachedmycar,andmyfacebrightenedwhenIsawDeja’s

number.Ihadn’ttalkedtoherallday.IwonderedwhatshewouldsaywhenItoldher
whatIwasthinkingaboutduringthemeetingwithCoachandmyteammates.

“Hey,”IsaidwhenIpickedup.“GuesswhatIwasjustremembering?”
“Tyler?It’sKatefromKappaAlphaTheta.”Shesoundedpanicky.
That changed things, fast. There was only one reason why Kate would be using

Deja’sphone.“What’swrong?”

“It’sDeja.Anambulancejustcametotakehertothehospital.”

1 6

D E J A

hefirstclearthingIrememberedwasgettingmystomachpumped.Iremembered

fightingofftheparamedicsastheytriedtoemptymeofwhatIhadspenttheafternoon
drinking.

Then,Irememberednothingotherthanwakingupinaroom,withanIVinmyarm

andabeepingnoisecomingfromsomewhere.Iwantedthebeepingnoisetostop.My
headhurtsobadandmythroatwasraw.

Iopenedmyeyes.Brightlights.Iclosedthemagain.
“Deja?”Iknewthatvoice.Itwasaslightlymuffled,likeIwasinathickfog,butIstill

recognizedit.“Deja.Openyoureyes.”

Idid,andwhenIturnedmyhead—damn,itfeltlikesomebodywasbeatingabass

druminthere—IsawTyler.Andhedidn’tlookhappy.

“Hey,”Imouthed.Icouldn’tspeak.Ithurttoswallow,even.
“Whatthefuckwereyoudoing?”Irealizedhewascrying.Thereweretearsonhis

cheeks and dripped onto his shirt. His face was swollen and red. His eyes were
bloodshot.

“What?”Imouthed.“Whathappened?”
“Youdon’tremember?”heasked.“Youdon’tremembertryingtokillyourself?”
Killmyself?Myeyesopenedwide.Ididn’ttrytokillmyself.Ithoughthardabout

whathappened.Iwasonlydrinking.Ileftthedinerandwenttotheliquorstoreand
boughtafewbottlesanddecidedtogetfuckedupsoImightforgethowhumiliatedI
feltaboutgettingfired.Ishookmyheadjustenoughtolethimknowthatwasn’twhat
happened.Hiseyesnarrowed.

“Ifyouweren’ttryingtokillyourself,I’dliketoknowwhatyouweretryingtodo,”

hemuttered.“Nobodydrinksanentirefifth-and-a-halfofvodkabecausethey’rehaving
agoodtime.Nobody.”

Did I really drink that much? It was all kind of a blur after a while. I knew I had

startedoffstrong,butitkindoffadedoutafterthat.

“AndIknowwhy,”hesaid.Hetookmyhand.“Damnit.Yougotfired,didn’tyou?I

talkedtoDottie.I’vespentthewholenighttryingtomakesenseofwhyyouwoulddo
this to yourself. Why do you insist on continuing to self-sabotage yourself? I don’t
understand.”

Ididn’tknowwhattosay,andIcouldn’tsayitanyway.Ijustclosedmyeyesagain.I

couldstandlookingatTyler,notwhenhewassobrokenupinside.

“Lookatme,”heordered.Ishookmyhead.“Openyoureyesandlookatme.Now.”
Ididn’twantto,butIopenedmyeyes.Tylersoundedsomad.Ididn’twanthimto

bemadatme.Shit.Itwasn’tmyfault.Iwasn’ttheonewhomademethewayIwas.I
didn’tknowwhodid,butitwasn’tme.

“Thegirlsatthesororitywantyoutoleave,”hereplied.“ItalkedtoKatewhenIgot

here,andshetoldmetheydon’twanttoruntheriskofthishappeningagain.I’msorry.
Ican’tblamethem,either.”

They were kicking me out. It felt like a dagger to my heart. A tear slid down my

cheek.AndIhadlikedlivingtheresomuch,too.

“I don’t know what to do with you now,” he murmured. He was still holding my

hand,buthisvoicewasflat.“There’sonlyonechoiceatthispoint,andIthinkit’sthe
bestthingforyou.”

Iwaited,hopinghewasn’tabouttosaywhatIthoughthewasabouttosay.Ifhedid,

Iwouldn’tbeabletohandleit.

“Youneedtogotorehab.”
“No!”Itcameoutasacroak,anditfeltlikeathousandrazorbladeswereslicingmy

throattoribbons,butIhadtosayit.“Nothappening!”

“Deja,don’tyousee?Thewayyoudrinkisn’tnormal.It’snothealthy.You’rekilling

yourself, for God’s sake. I can’t stand to see you do it and I can’t sit around watching
youdrinkyourpainaway.”

“Sodon’t.Go,”Iwhispered.“Getthefuckoutofmyfaceandleavemeliketheyall

do.”

“Deja…”
“No! Just go. It wouldn’t be the first time people who I love up and leave me. My

ownparentsabandonedmesowhyshouldIexpectanythingdifferentfromyou?Just
leave,Tyler.”

“Ican’tdothat.”
“Whydoyouevencareaboutme?”Icried.“I’mafuckingmess.”
“Because,Deja.I’vealwayscaredaboutyou.Ineverstopped.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIfuckingloveyou.That’swhy.Okay?”
Iheardthetruthofhiswords.Hewasn’tjustsayingittogetmetogo.Hemeantit.

My heart clenched. I had imagined him saying it so many times. So, so many. For
years.Andtherehewas,finallytellingmewhatmyheartwantedsomuchtohear,but
itwasn’tthewayI’ddreameditwouldbe.Ineverthoughthewouldtellmeheloved
meafterIdrankmyselfintoahospitalroom.

“Deja,youcouldhavediedtoday.IfKatedidn’tgethomewhenshedid,youmight

have. Good thing her class was canceled. When I think about what might have
happened…” He ducked his head, and I saw droplets of tears hit his thighs. That was
probablytheworstthingofall,whenIknewhowhisheartwasbreaking.Becauseof
me.

Helovedme.
“I’msosorry,Tyler.”
“Iknowyouare,butyouneedhelp.”

“

“IknowIdo.”
“Youdo?”
Inodded.Tylerwasright.Hewantedtoloveme,andIwantedtolovehim,butIhad

to love myself first. If it were ever going to work between us, I would need to stop
drinking to numb the pain of my childhood and get my life together. If that meant
takingownershipofmypoorchoicesandgoingtorehab,thenthatwaswhatitmeant.I
would do anything to learn how to love myself and ultimately deserve his love. I
wantedtoshowhimthatIcouldturnmylifearoundandthatIwasworthyofhim.

“Okay,” he replied. “Okay. We’ll start looking for somewhere you can go. It’s all

goingtobealright.”Hekissedmyhand,andIplaceditonhiscrimsoncheek.Heleaned
his face into it and smiled a little. I hated how tired and worried he looked. I would
makesureheneverfeltthatwayagain.

othisisit.”IlookedaroundthelittleroomattheaddictiontreatmentcenterTyler

had gotten me into. Well, the doctors had helped, but he had gone to them and told
them I was willing to get help. That was the first step, and he’d said to me, all
throughoutthetwo-hourdrivetothecenter,howproudhewasofmefortakingthat
step.

Itwasalittletiresome,tobehonest.
“So, you’ll stay here for four weeks,” Tyler said, “and when you get out, I’ll be

waitingforyou.”

“That’llbeintimeforDraftDay.”
“Andyou’recomingwithme,”hepromised.Heslidhisarmsaroundmywaist.
“Holdup.”Icreasedmyforehead.“Iam?”
“Hellyeah.IwouldneverleavethewomanIlovebehindwhileIdidsomethinglike

that.I’llneedyouthere.Iwantyouthere.”

“Iloveyou.”Itstillfeltsonew,andsogood;justtellinghimIlovedhimlikeitwas

nothing.Asimplefact.Ilovedhim.Ialwayshave.Ididn’tunderstanduntilthenthat
halfthepainoflovingsomebodywhodoesn’tloveyoubackisn’tthatyou’renotloved,
butthatyou’renotfreetolovethem.Icouldrunmyhandoverthesideofhisface,his
sharpjawlineandtracehismouthwithmythumbandkisshim,asIdidjustthen.It
washeaven.

“Iloveyou,babygirl,”Tylersaid.“AndI’msoproudofyou.”
Andhewasproudofme.Sure,Iwasalittletiredofhearingit,butIknewitcame

from the right place. Nobody had ever been proud of me before, either. So that was
something.

“I’llmissyou,”Itouchedmyforeheadtohis.
“I’llmissyou,too.”
“Isn’titfunny,missingsomebodyyoudidn’tseeforfiveyears?”
Tylerchuckled.“Yeah,itis,butyou’vealwayshadmyheart.”
The woman outside the door cleared her throat, and we stepped away from each

other.Myheartcriedoutinpain,butItoldmyselfitwasforthebest.Justliketheshake
inmyhandswasforthebest,sinceitmeantIhadn’thadadrinkinfourdaysandwas

stillalivetotellthetale.Iwasstillalive.Iwouldbejustfine.

“Well,IguessI’llseeyouinamonth,”
Ikissedhimonemoretimebeforehelefttheroom,andIwaiteduntilhisfootsteps

fadedawaybeforeIburstintotears.Ihadneverfeltsoaloneinmylife,notevenwhen
Iwaswithex-boyfriend,Malik,andhewashigh.

“Dayone,”Ireplied.Onlytwenty-seventogo.

1 7

T Y L E R

ndianapolislookedliketheinsideofahotelroom.Theinsideofabus.Theinsideofa

sportscomplex.Thatwasaboutit.Andthatwasthecaseforallofus.AtleastIknewwe
wereallinthesameboat.

Thereweresomany,too.Itwasalittleunnerving,thereminderthatsomanyother

guysmyagewerejustdyingforashotatthepros.Wewerethebestofthebest,the
onesmostlikelytogetsignedcomeApril.Onlysixmoreweeks.Thethoughtmademy
stomachturn,butinagoodway.

Itwasablur,thewholething.Theyputusthroughgroupwarm-ups,watchedour

footwork,checkeduponourendurance.Thetrainerspaidparticularattentiontoour
speedandthewaywemovedon-field.Ithrewandthrewuntilmyshoulderwassore,
butthenthrewafewmorepasses.Weranplaysingroups,andIthrewatouchdown
passtoawidereceiver.Wehigh-fivedwhenitwasallover.

Thentherewerethemedicaltests,physicalandpsychological.Allkindsofquestions

—the coaches and owners wanted to be sure they weren’t signing anybody who
couldn’thandlethepressure.Iwassureplentyofguyshadcrackedovertheyears.I
was glad when the guy running my test told me he saw nothing on my record to
indicateIwasn’tagoodinvestment.SotherewasnothingaboutthefightwithMalik.
ThankGodforthat.IremindedmyselftocallCoachwhenitwasalloverandtellhim
aboutit.

By Saturday night, I was exhausted—and there was still another day to go. After

that,alotofthefellasweregonnastickaroundandhangout,partyalittle,gettoknow
the trainers and scouts who chose to hang back. Maybe put in a good word for
themselves.IplannedtoworkithardonSundaynightandMondaymorning.Iwanted
tobesurenobodyforgotwhoIwas.

IthoughtaboutitasIsatinmyhotelroomonSaturdaynight.Itwasabigroom,

andIshareditwithBrett.Thingswerenowbetterbetweenus.Therewasnosenseof
holdinggrudgesagainsthimsinceIhadenoughshitonmyplatetodealwith.

Iwasflippingthroughthemenu,thinkingaboutgettingalittleroomservicebefore

turninginforthenight,whenmyphonerang.WhenIsawthenameontheID,Iwas
sureithadtobeamistake.

“Deja?Whatareyoudoingcallingme?”Iasked.“Ididn’tthinkyouwereallowedto

haveyourcellphone.”

Dejachuckled.“Yeah,well,you’reallowedtohaveitwhenyoucheckyourselfout.”
“What?”Ifeltmyheartsink.
“Yeah,Ileft.Icouldn’tstandbeingthereanymore.”
“Youdidn’tevenmakeitforafullweek,”Iremindedher.
“I know. I couldn’t stand it, okay? You weren’t there. You don’t know how bad it

was.”Icouldhearthetearsinhervoice.

“Deja.”Ididmybesttobitemytongue.“Idon’tknowwhattosayrightnow.”
“Sayyoudon’thateme,”shebegged.
“YouknowIdon’thateyou.IfIhatedyou,Iwouldn’tbesofuckingmadatyouright

now.”

“You’remad?”
“Yes,I’mmad!Ican’tbelieveyouwoulddothat.Youtoldmeyouweregonnatry,

remember? I don’t want to go through this shit with you again. You need to be in
rehab.”

“AndIdidtry.”
“Forlessthanaweek,”Iremindedher.
“Well,youdon’tknowwhatit’slikeinthere.I’mgladit’ssoeasyforyoutostand

thereandtellmewhenyouhavenoideawhatitwaslikethere.”

“Iknowit’shard…”
“No,youdon’tknow,”sheinterrupted.“That’slikemesayingIknowit’shardtobea

footballplayerwhenIdon’tknowthesortofworkyouputintoit.”

“Deja.I’mnottryingtofightwithyou,butIcan’tdothis.Ihavetoomuchshitgoing

formeandIdon’tknowhowtohelpfightthisdrinkingproblemyouhave.”

“I’msorry.IneedyoutoknowhowsorryIam.”
“Iknowyouare.”
“Idon’tknowwheretogonow.”
Isighed,closingmyeyes.“Fuck!”
“I’msorry,Tyler,”shesniffed.
“Look,youcangobacktomyhouse.Youknowwherethesparekeyis.”
“Areyousure?”
“Yes.”Isighed.“ButI’mtellingyou.Youfuckupagainthenyou’reonyourown.I

loveyouandcareforyou.ButIloveyouenoughtowalkaway.Iwillwalkaway,Deja.”

“Iknow.”
ItpainedmetosaythosewordstoDeja,sincewebothknewwhatitwasliketobe

abandoned.ButIhadtostandmygroundandrealizeI’mnothelpinghergethealthier
ifIwasanenabler.So,Iwasgoingtogiveheronemorechance,butthat’sit.

Onemorechance.
IwouldhavetocallPatrickandlethimknowshewascoming,butatleasthewould

bethereuntilIgotback.

“Tyler?”
“What?”
“I’monabusrightnow.It’llgetmethereinthreehours.”
Soshewasalreadyonherway.Iletoutadeepsigh,hopingIwouldn’tregretmy

decision.Icouldn’thaveherrunningaroundonherown,livingonthestreet.AfterI
hungupwithher,IcalledPatrick.

“Noway,man.Nofuckingway.You’renotbringinghershitintomylifeagain.”
My eyes opened wide. I was speechless for a second. “I’m giving her one more

chance.”

“No,bro.Ilivehere,too,youknow.AndIpayaquarteroftherentandtheother

bills.Dejadoesn’tpayafuckingthing,andI’msorry,butIknowtheotherguyswillfeel
thesamewaywhenItellthemshe’scoming,andthey’renotheretodoanythingabout
it.”

“Man,justdothisfavorformeonetime.I’lloweyouone.”
“Damnstraight,youwill.”
“Listen.” I thought fast. “I have enough money saved up in the bank to get you a

hotelroomforthenight.Thebesthotelintown.Iswear.I’llmakeareservationinyour
name.Youdon’tevenhavetospendthenightinthehousewithher.Andbytomorrow,
I’llbethere,andI’llworksomethingout.”

“You’llbehere?Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.Why?”
“Because you weren’t supposed to come home for another two days. What aren’t

youtellingme?”

“Nothing.” I was already on the laptop, rescheduling my flight. There was one in

threehours—enoughtimeformetogetmybelongingstogetherandgettotheairport.
Icouldn’tleaveheralone.

“You’recomingbackearly,”hesaid,andhisvoicewasdead,flat.
“Yeah.Sowhat?”
“Sowhat?Areyoufuckingkiddingme?”hescreamedintothephone.“Doyouknow

whatIwoulddoforachancelikeyouhave,rightnow?Andyou’releavingearly?For
her?”

“Iloveher,man.”ItwasallIcouldsay.“She’sallIhave.”
“That’snottrue!Andyoudon’tevenseeit.Youhaveyourself.Youhavefootballand

yourfriends.Don’tthrowitallaway.”

“I’mnotthrowingitaway.Ialreadysawthetrainersandtookthepersonalitytests

andallthatshit.Mostofmyworkhereisdone.It’llbealright.Peoplehaveemergencies
allthetime.”

“Andshe’syouremergency.”
“Yes,sheis.”
He went silent. “Whatever, man. And don’t worry—I don’t need you to get me a

hotelroomsomewhere.You’llneedthemoneysomedaywhenyoudon’tgetsigned.”

“Don’tbethatway,man.”Buthehadalreadyhungup.
Icouldn’tthinkabouthimthen.Hedidn’tgetit.Yeah,Iwantedtogetdraftedmore

thananything.ButIlovedDeja,too,andsheneededme.Oneday,he’dbeinaposition
likemine.Ihopedhehadabetterfriendtohelphimthroughitthanhewasbeingto
me.

I pulled my suitcase out of the closet and started packing. Twenty minutes later, I

wasinacab,onmywaytotheairport.

“

missedyou.”

I forced a smile at Deja. She was waiting for me in my room, and she threw her

armsaroundmewhenIwalkedin.Iwasn’tsurewhattosay,still,butIdidholdherfor
alongtime.

“You’realonehere?”Iasked.Therewasn’tasignofPatrickanywhere.
“Yeah,theplacewasemptywhenIgotin.”
Inodded.“Okay.”Iputmythingsdownandstartedtounpack.Shewatchedme.I

felthereyesfollowingmearoundtheroom.

“Saysomething,please,”shepleaded.
Ididn’treply.
Dejasighed.“Well,howdidthingsgo?”
“Good.”
“That’s…good.Ifeellikeyou’remadatmerightnow.”Shesatdown,handsclasped

betweenherknees.“Iwishyouwouldtalktomeaboutit.”

“Doyouexpectmetobefuckinghappy?”
Iwantedtothrowsomethingacrosstheroom,butstoppedmyselfintime.Shehad

seenenoughviolencegrowingup.

“Itoldyou,itjustwasn’tworkingthere.Theydidn’tunderstandmeatall.”
“Nothingbutexcuses.”
“I’mbeingforreal!”Shegottoherfeet.“Theydidn’twanttohearhowIfelt.They

kept telling me how I felt. They kept trying to put labels on me, but they got it all
wrong.I’msorry,butIcan’tbesomewherewheretheywon’teventrytogettoknow
mebeforetheytellmeeverythingIdidwronginmylife.”

“Whatdidtheyhavetosay?”Iasked.
“ThatIwaspunishingmyselfbystayingwithmyex,Malik.”
“Maybeyouwere,”Imuttered.
“Butforwhat?Theycouldn’ttellmewhatIwaspunishingmyselffor,becausethey

hadnoidea.Theydidn’tbothertryingtofigureoutanythingelseaboutme.Theysaw
allthesurfaceshit.Troubledyouth,badparents,badfosterparents,andassumedIhate
myselfandthat’swhyIdrinkandchoosethewrongmen.Imean,it’sliketheywatched
onetoomanymovies.”Shefloppedbackdownonthebed.

Weglaredateachotherforalongtime,andshebrokefirst.Shelookedaway,down

atthefloor.Ifelttheangerrunoutofmelikesomebodyhadturnedonthespigot.

“Have you had anything to drink today?” I asked evenly as I turned away to get

changedintoaT-shirtandshorts.

“No,Tyler.IwantedtohaveadrinkwhenIgothere,buttherewasnothinginthe

house.”

Patrick.He’deitherthrownitallawayorhiddenitwhereshecouldn’tfindit.Ididn’t

knowifshouldbeannoyedwithhimorthankhimforit.

“Good.”
“IfI’mhonest,Icouldreallyuseone.”Iheardatremorinhervoice.
“Iwon’tletyoubreakyoursobriety.”Itossedapillowontothefloor,thensatwith

mybackagainstthedoor.

“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked,andshesoundedsuspicious.Well,shehadaright

tobe.

“It’sjustlikebeforewhenIusedtocampedinfrontofyourdoor.Onlythistime,I’m

keepingyouin,insteadofkeepingsomebodyelseout.Ifyoutrytoleavethenyou’re
notwelcomebackintohome…ormylife.”

“What?Youcan’tdothat.”Shestoodup,shakingherhead.“That’snotfair.Youcan’t

keepmeprisonerandthreatenmelikethat!That’swhyIleftthetreatmentcenter!”

“Ithoughtitwasbecausetheydidn’tunderstandyou.”
“Andbecauseitwasafuckingprison!Andtheylookeddownonusandthoughtwe

weretrash.Andeverybodyelseintherewasamess.Atotalmess.Iwasn’tlikethose
people.”Tearsstreameddownherface.“Please,Tyler.Don’tdothistome.”

Herwordsreachedinsideme,butIhadtostaystrongagainstthem.Iknewitwas

justoneofhertricks,thetrickofanalcoholic.Shewasintheresomewhere,myDeja,
buttheaddictionwastalking.SoItalkedbacktotheaddiction.

“It’s my fucking house. I pay rent. My name’s on the lease. You’re here because I

loveyouandwantyoutobesafe.So,yeah,IcandowhatthefuckIwant.Ifyouhavea
problemwiththatthenyoucanleaveandI’llassumeyou’rechoosingalcoholoverus.
Andifthat’sthecase,thenIneverwanttoseeyouagain.”

1 8

T Y L E R

hedoorbellrangateight-thirtythenextmorning.IrandownstairsasfastasIcould,

consideringhowblurrymyvisionwas.Ihadn’tsleptawink,sittinguptobesureshe
didn’ttrytosneakoutforadrink.Icouldn’ttakeanothernightwithoutsleep.Iwould
neversurvive.

“Shit,” I murmured when I saw who was standing at the door. What was Coach

doing there? And from the look on his face, he wasn’t just paying a visit. I wouldn’t
haveopenedthedoorifhehadn’tseenme.Itwastoolatetodoanythingaboutit.SoI
swungthedooropenandglancedupstairsasIdid—Ididn’twantDejatowakeup.The
doorbellhadn’tdoneit,soIhopedthedoorwouldn’t.

“Morning,Coach,”Isaid,rubbingmyeyes.Ileanedagainstthedoortoholdmeup.I

hadneverbeensotiredinmyentirelife.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?”heasked.
“Ilivehere,don’tI?”
“Yes,but you weren’t supposedto come back untiltomorrow. Brett and Jacob are

comingbacktomorrow.”

Ishrugged.“So,Ileftearly.Ididn’tthinkIneededtostayforanythingelse.Imean,

they’re only there to party and kiss ass, anyway.” I felt a little twinge of guilt in my
chestwhenIsaidthat.Ihadplannedonstayingbehindandkissingassandpartying,
too.I’dwantedtoget toknowsomeof thetrainersandletthem gettoknowme. I’d
wantedtobettermychances.Instead,Ihadcomehome.TherewasnothingIcoulddo
aboutthat.

“CanIcomein,please?”
“Be my guest.” I swung the door open and let him walk in. He looked around the

livingroom.

“My college house was a lot like this,” he said with a grin. “It smelled like socks,

sweatandass,prettymuch.”

“IguessIdon’tsmellitanymoresinceIlivehere.So,nottoberudeoranything,but

what are you here for?” I had to get things over with since I didn’t want Deja to be
aloneforlongerthansheneededtobe.Ilistenedtomakesurethereweren’tanynoises
fromtheflooraboveme.

Coachnodded.“Ithinkthere’salotweneedtotalkover,Tyler.”
“Idon’tthinkso.”

“Thisisn’taboutwhatyouthink.Sityourassdown.”Hepointedatthecouch,and

whenhetookonthattoneofvoice—onthefieldoroff—hewasn’tthekindofmanyou
wentagainst.Hecouldstilllandagoodpunchonmeifhewantedto,Iguessed.SoIsat.

“Whatareyouevendoinghere?”Iyawnedandburiedmyheadinmyhands.“Jesus

Christ,Ididn’tsleepallnight.”

“Iknowyoudidn’t.That’swhyI’mhere.”
“Totortureme?”
“No.Toaskyouwhatthehellyou’retryingtodo.Doyouwannaruinyourwhole

life?Becauseifyoudo,you’redoingarealgoodjobofitrightnow.”

Coachsatacrossfrommeonthecoffeetablewithhiselbowsonhisknees.Hewas

practically in my face, which I didn’t like very much but didn’t think it would be a
smartideatotellhimtogetthehelloutofit.

“It’snoneofyourbusiness.Besides,I’mnotruiningadamnthing.I’mtakingcareof

whatneedstobetakencareof.”

Hepointedupthestairs.“She’snotwhatyouneedtobetakingcareofrightnow.”
“Youdon’tknowanythingabouther.”
“Iknowenough.”
“Ah.Igetit.Theyweretalkingaboutme,huh?Isthatit?”
“Who’sthey?”
“Therestoftheteam.Theguyswholivehere.”
“It’snotjusttheguyswholivehere.It’severybody.Everybodyknowsyou’vebeen

jumpingthroughhoopsforthisgirleversincesheshowedup,andeverybodyhasseen
youfallingapart.”

“I’mnotfallingapart.”
“Kid, you look like hell right now. You’re like one of those guys on that zombie

show.”

“Whatever.”Ishookmyhead.
“Youjusttoldmeyouhaven’tslept.Right?”
Isighed.Stupidme.Ineededtolearnhowtokeepmymouthshut.“Yes.Right.”
“Becausewhy?Becauseyou’resittingupwithher.Right?”
“Sheneedsmyhelp.Sheneedsme.”
“Youcan’tgiveherthehelpsheneeds.”
Ileanedbackagainstthecouchandrubbedmyfacewithmypalms.Ifeltnumb.I

would’ve done anything just about then to go to sleep—hell, I could’ve fallen asleep
rightthereinfrontofmycoach.“I’mallshehas,Coach.Youdon’tunderstandhowwe
wereraised.Irefusetogiveuponherwhensomanypeoplealreadyhave.”

“You’reallshehasrightnowbecausesheleftthatrehabprogramyoubrokeyour

backtogetherinto.Isn’tthatright?”

“Ididn’tbreakmyback.”
“Youdidalltheworktolookintoitthough,didn’tyou?Andyoudroveherthereand

got her set up. You did everything you could, and what did she do to show you how
gratefulshewas?Sheran.”

“Backtome.I’mtheonlyoneshetrusts.Don’tyougetit?”
“No.You’retheonewhodoesn’tgetit,kid.”
“I love her, Coach.” It came out as a whisper. “I feel like I’m losing my fucking

mind.”

Coachsighed,andhisshouldersslumpedalittle.
“I do get it, kid. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry she’s going through this, and I’m

sorryyou’regoingthroughitwithherbecauseyouloveher.”Heputhishandsonmy
kneesandsqueezed,hard.Theoldmanhadplentyofstrengthleftinthosehands.“But
youcan’tthrowyourlifeawayforsomebodywithaseriousaddiction.That’snotlove,
kid.That’ssickness.Andshe’ssick—Igetthat—butshe’sdraggingyoudownwithher.”

“She’snot.IknowwhatI’mdoing.”
“Believeme,youdon’t.”
“Howwouldyouknow?”
Coach paused. “Because I’ve been where she is. Okay? Is that what you need to

hear?Shit,Ineverwantedtosaythatoutloud.”Hewincedlikehewasinpain.

Itstartedtosinkin.“Wait.Youwere…?Youmean,you…?”
Hiseyesmetmine.“I’manalcoholic,Tyler.Sobertheselastnineyears.”
I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to something like that, even when

you’renottotallysleepdeprived?

“Wow.Ihadnoidea.”
“Ofcourse,youdidn’t.Noneofyouknowbecauseitwasalongtimeago.ButIgotta

tell you, I came this close to losing everything.” He held his forefinger and thumb
maybeaninchapart.“TheschoolputmeonprobationandtoldmeifIdidn’tgetmyself
together,theyweregonnacanme.ItwasbadenoughthatIlostmycareerbecauseof
thedrink—”

“That’swhy?”Iasked.“Ithoughtitwasaninjury.”
“ItwasaninjuryIgotbecauseIwashungoverduringthegame,”hesaid.“Iwasstill

half-drunkatkickoff,andbythethirdquarterIwasstartingtofeelalittlegreen.”He
stared at the wall behind my head. “My head was splitting, I was sweating and
nauseated.ThesidelinecoachesthoughtIhadaconcussion,butIknewwhatthereal
problemwas.Myreflexeswereoff.Iwasslowandsluggish.WhenItookthathit…well,
itwasinevitable,Iguess.”Hesighed.

IcouldonlyimaginehowmanytimesCoachhadgoneoverthatstoryinhishead,

over and over. Probably asking himself why he didn’t do things differently. I knew I
would.

“Ifuckedthingsupformyself,andnobodycould’vetoldmebackthenthatIneeded

togetmyshitinorder.Ididn’twannahearit.Andyeah,mycoachknewIwasdrinking
toomuch.Eventheownersknew.Theytriedtogetmeoffit,butIwouldn’tlistento
them.SoIruinedmyfootballcareer.Andthatwasonme.It’ssomethingIhavetolive
withfortherestofmylife.”

Henarrowedhiseyes.“Butyou?You’relettingsomebodyelsemakethosedecisions

foryou.You’resobusyworryingaboutherandtakingcareofherthatyoucan’tfocus
onwhatyouneedtofocuson.YoufuckedupattheCombine,didn’tyou?Don’ttellme
youdidn’tbecauseIknowyoudid.”

Ishrugged.“Sowhat?It’snotlikemyrecordwentawayallofasudden.Theyknow

whatIcando.”

Hestaredatmeforalongtime—solong,Ithoughtforasecondthatmaybehedidn’t

hearme.Thenhefrowned,andhisforeheadcreased.Hiseyeswerenarrowedtoslits.

“Whatabullshit,punk-assthingtosay.”
“What?”Isatuptofacehim.
“You’rethebiggestcowardIeverknewinmylife,yousonofabitch.Ican’tbelieve

Ijustwastedthelasttwoyearsonyou,workingtomakesureyoumadetheprosand
hadeverychanceyouneeded.”

“Give me a fucking break,” I spat back. “And it didn’t hurt you, did it? I won your

championshiptwice,thanksalot.”

“Yeah,andnowyouhavethechancetomakesomethingofyourmiserablelife,and

you’re throwing it away because you’re afraid you’ll screw it up. Right? It’s easier to
blame it on her. And that’s what you’re gonna end up doing, don’t think you won’t.
Overtheyears,whenyougetstuckinsomecrapjob,andthere’snowhereforyoutogo
butdown,you’llknowyouwastedthebestchanceyou’devergetathavingagoodlife.
Andyou’llhavewastedyourtalent,too,andthat’snotsomethingeverybodygets.”

Ididn’twanttolistentohim.Hedidn’tknowwhathewasfuckingtalkingabout.He

didn’tknowme.Heonlythoughthedid.

“Just because you’re my coach doesn’t mean you know anything about my life or

thewayIthink,”Isnarled.

“You’re like an open book, kid. I don’t know where you got the idea you’re so

fuckinghardtoread.”

“SoyouthinkI’macowardbecauseI’mafraidI’mgonnafuckup.”’
“No. Everybody’s afraid they’re gonna fuck up, kid. I’m saying you’re a coward

becauseyou’relettingitgetinthewayofmakingsomethingoutofyourlife.Youdon’t
have to give in to that fear. And we do all have it, don’t think I’m kidding you or
blowingsmokeupyourass.Everybodythinksthey’regonnascrewupsomethinggood
whentheygetit.Agoodnewjob,orawoman,orwhatever.Wegetsomethinggood,
wedon’twannaloseit.There’snothingwrongwiththat.Thecowardsarethepeople
whogiveinanddecidetheydon’twantthatthinganyway.They’llpushitawaybefore
theygetthechancetoloseit.Seethedifference?”

“Man,Iguess.”
“Whichpersondoyouwannabe?”heasked.
“IwannabethemanwhogoestotheNFL.”
“And?”
“AndIwannawinaSuperbowl,”Iadded.
“And?”
“AndIwantthekindoflifeIalwaysdreamedaboutwhenIwasakid.”
“Whatwasinthatlife?”
“Happiness. Good health. Wife. Dogs. Kids. A big house. A good car that actually

runsanddoesn’tlooklikeit’sgonnafallapartallovertheroad.”

“Okay.Sowhyareyoupushingitaway?Becausethat’swhatyoudidbackthere,in

Indianapolis.Youletitallgetthebestofyou.”

“I know I did.” I buried my head in my hands and felt my eyes well up. “But she

needsme.Shejustneedsme.”

“Iknowshedoes.”Ifelthishandonthebackofmyhead.“Iknow.AndIwishIhad

somebodylikeyouonmysidewhenIwasinhershoes.ButIhadalreadyburnedall
my bridges. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with me anymore—maybe that

should’ve been a warning sign, I don’t know. But when you’re in that kind of shape,
you tell yourself it’s the other person’s fault. It’s always the other person’s fault for
abandoningyouornotbeingabletohandleyou.Whatever.Youdon’ttellyourselfthe
truthalotofthetimewhenyou’resodeepinthebottle.”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I can ever make up for the way I

fuckedup.”

“You’llbeabletomakeupforit.I’msureofthat.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“Italkedtoalotofthescoutsandtrainers,”headmitted.Iraisedmyheadtolookat

himagain.“Andtheysaidithappenssometimes.Youwereingreatshape,whichwas
good, and you did great in the workouts. But things went downhill. It happens. You
didn’tdoanylastingdamage—Idon’tthink.”

“ButIprobablywon’tbefirstround,”Imuttered.
“That’snottheendoftheworld.Imean,second,thirdround—itiswhatitis.Aslong

as you get on the team and you show them what you can do once you’re there. You
havesomuchpromise,kid.Ifyoudidn’t,Iwouldn’tbehere.”

Iwasn’tthekindofguywhoprayed,butIsaidaprayerjustthenthathewasright.

Hehadtoberight.WhatwouldIdoifhewasn’t?I’dberoyallyfucked,thatwaswhat.

“Now.Let’stalkabouther,”Coachreplied.Hesoundedevenmoreserious.
“Youdon’thavetoworryaboutthat,”Isaid.
“No?Whynot?Throwingherout?”
“Ofcoursenot.Icouldn’tdothat.I’lltakecareofher,somehow.”
“You can’t, I’m telling you. What do you think you’re gonna do? Dry her out

yourself?”

“Whynot?”
“Did you know that the reason people go to rehab in the first place is because it’s

evenmoredangeroustogocoldturkeyoffalcoholthanitistoquitdoingdrugs?Hard
drugs,even.”

“Huh?”
Henodded.“Peoplediewhentheytrytodryoutontheirown.Youdon’tknowhow

longshe’sbeenthewaysheisorhowmuchshedrinkssometimes,doyou?Shehasa
serious problem, but the doctors know how to take care of it. They can monitor her
better.”

“IwishIcouldmakeherstaythere.”
“So maybe you need to tell her that she can stay in rehab or she can leave you

forever.”

Iwinced.“Idon’tknowifIcandothat.Ican’tmakeherthinkIdon’tcare.”
“Butyoudocare,andthat’swhyyou’redoingthis.”
“Ican’t.”Ishookmyhead.
“That’s not what matters, kid. What matters is what’s best for her. She’s not in a

goodpositiontoknowwhatthatisnow.LikeIsaid,Iknowhowitfeels.Youcan’tleave
ituptoher.”

“Idon’twanttomakeherrunaway.”
“If she does… she does. She’s an adult and has to own up to her problems. We all

haveissuesandsomeissuescan’tbesolvedwithoutprofessionalhelp.”

“Iloveher,Coach!”Iglaredathim.“Whydon’tyougetit?She’stheonlypersonI

everlovedinmywholelife!She’stheonlyonewhoeverlovedme,too.Doyouknow
howthatfeels?Havingonlyonepersonwhoeverlovedyou?”

“She’snottheonlyone,kid.Peopleloveyou.”
“Nobody loves her but me,” I said. “And I can’t make her think I don’t love her

anymore.Canyouimaginewhatshe’ddoifshethoughtthat?Ican’tberesponsiblefor
that.”

“Iknowwhatyou’resaying.”
IfIweren'tsobone-tired,Iwouldhaveburstoutintears.Ijustdidn’tknowwhatto

doanymore.

“Sorry.Ididn’tmeantoyellatyou.”
“It’sokay,”Coachrepliedinalowmurmur.“I’llhelpyouifyouneedmeto.I’lllook

into another rehab program, maybe one she’ll feel more comfortable in. The other
guysinmyAAmeetingshavecontacts,knowwhatImean?”

“Youwoulddothat?”
“Iwould.Becauseyou’reworthit.It’snothingifitmeansyou’llbeabletobewho

you’re meant to be. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I watched you lose
everythinganddidn’tdoanythingtohelpyou.”

Inodded.“Man,I’msotired.”
“Iknow,kid.You’llbeabletorestnow.Youneedtostarttakingcareofyouagain.”
Coachwasright.Icouldn’tpretendhewasn’tanymore.AndIcouldn’tpretendthatI

didn’t see what he was saying. I saw all of it. It took somebody who loved me—
somebodynotDeja—totellme.

1 9

D E J A

hadbeeninafewuncomfortablepositionsinmylife,butnothingbeatthehardwood

flooratthetopofthestairs.

I sat there with my back to the wall, my knees pulled up to my chest. Tears

streameddownmyfaceasIlistenedtotheconversationTylerhadwithhiscoach.He
soundedsotiredanditwasallmyfault.

Notjustthat,either.Ididn’tknowhelefttheCombineearlyforme.Ihadn’teven

thoughtaboutitwhenIwassobusybeingselfish.Icould’vethrownmyselfdownthe
stairs just then. They were hard, wooden, and it was a long way down. I would
probablybreakmyneckifIwasluckyenough.Iwouldbedoingtherestoftheworlda
bigfavor.EspeciallyTyler.

I wished I had the courage to do it, too. It would’ve been easier than living with

myself.Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?Ihadruinedhislife.I’druinedeverything
for him. And he had only tried to help me. He was always right there on my side,
backing me up. He gave me courage. He vouched for me with his friends and with
Dottieatthediner.AndallIdidwaspullhimdown.

Iheardeverythingthecoachsaid,andeverythingmadesense.Tylerhadeverything

tolivefor.Ifhestayedwithme,thewayIwas,hewouldneverdoanythingbutsink
anddrown.Iwoulddrownhim.AndIlovedhim.HowcouldIdrownhimwhenIloved
him? Well, I was already doing a pretty good job of it, wasn’t I? Funny how it took a
total stranger to tell you what was happening right in front of you. Things you didn’t
see.Probablybecauseyouweretoodrunkallthetimetoseethem.

HadItakenadvantageofhim?WasIbeingaselfishbitch?Iguessedso.Iknewhe

wouldalwaysforgivemewhenIfuckedup.IknewIalwayshadthatnetunderneath
me.SoIdidwhatIwantedandlethimcleanupmymess.HowcouldIdothattohim?I
wassupposedtolovehim,andIdidlovehim.ButIhatedmyselfmore,andIwastoo
deepinthebottletodoanythingaboutit.

Iheardwhatsoundedlikehimcrying,andhiscoachtryingtocalmhimdownand

tellhimeverythingwouldbeallright.Myheartjustaboutbroke.Icouldn’tstandthe
soundofhistears.Inevercould,evenbackwhenwewerekids.Irememberedthose
nightswhenhe’dlieinbedcrying,justontheothersideofthewallbetweenourbeds.I
wouldtouchthewallandimagineIwastouchinghim.Iwouldhugmypillowtome
andimagineIwashugginghim,comfortinghim.Iwouldcryrightalongwithhim,too.

“It’sgonnabeokay,”thecoachsaid.Yeah,everythingwouldbeokay.Isquaredmy

shouldersandgottomyfeet.Everythingwouldbefine.Icouldn’tcomforthimwhen
wewerekids.Icouldn’ttakehispainawaythen.ButIcoulddomybestnow.

Iwouldhavesoldmysoulforadrinkjustthen.Anythingtonumbthepain.Ididn’t

needthespecialstuff.Ididn’tevenneedanythingthatwouldtastegood.Ijustwanteda
drink.Onedrink.Mybodyfeltlikeitwasonfire.Ihadneverneededanythingsomuch
in my life. I walked back to the bedroom and crawled into bed. I didn’t want him to
knowIhadbeenlisteningin.

Hewasabouttogiveeverythingupbecauseofme.Well,becauseofmeandbecause

hewasscared.Buthewasgoingtousemeashisexcuse.Iunderstoodwhathiscoach
had tried to tell him. It made sense. That was what people did all the time, wasn’t it?
Theygotintoarelationshipwiththewrongpersonsotheycouldblameallthestupid
shitintheirlifeonthem.Evenwhentheyweresupposedtobeasmartperson,theydid
itanyway.Theymightnothaveknowntheydidit.Theymightnotdoitonpurpose.
Buttheydidit.

AndthatwaswhatTylerwasdoingwithme.Hewasscaredtoloseeverything—he

hadtoldmethatmuchhimself.Whenyougrowuparoundabunchoflosers,that’sall
youknow.It’sallyoueversee.Soit’swhatyouthinkyou’regoingtobe.AndIwasthe
one who was supposed to be helping him. I loved him, and he loved me. I was
supposedtosupporthimandencouragehimtodohisbest.Iwasn’tsupposedtoleave
rehabandmakehimcomehomesoonerthanheshouldhave.

Ihatedmyself.Ihatedmyselfforeverything—leavingrehab,findinghiminthefirst

place,takingmyfirstdrink.Everything.

Footstepsonthestairs.IclosedmyeyesandpretendedIwasasleep.Ihadajobto

do,andIhadtobegoodatit.IfonlyIcouldhaveafuckingdrink.

Hewasquietashecameintotheroom.Heshutthedoorbehindhimjustasquietly.

MypoorTyler.Ilovedhimsomuch,ithurt.Ifeltatightnessinmychest,andmyarms
achedtoholdhimjustthen.Ihadputhimthroughsomuch.Hedidn’tdeservewhatI’d
puthimthrough.Allheeverdidwastrytohelpme.Asingletearsliddownmycheek
fromundermyloweredlashes.

“Deja?Areyouawake?”Hesatdownontheedgeofthebed.“Weneedtotalk.”
“Mm-hmm.”Nosenseinlyingaboutthat.
“Listen.Thisisreallyhardformetosaybutyouneedtopackyourstuffandgo.”
Iopenedmyeyes.“Ialreadyknow,Tyler.”
“Knowwhat?”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing you can do for me. Nothing you haven’t done

already.”

“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“ItmeansthatIcan’tkeepholdingyoubackthewayI’vebeen.I’vebeenselfishand

onlythinkingaboutmyselfandnotbeingconsiderateofeverythingthat’shappeningin
yourlife.”

“Youwerelisteningatthetopofthestairs,”hesaid.
“No.I’vebeendoingalotofthinking,though.”
“Don’tlietome.”Heturnedmyhead,takingmychininhishand,andwhenIsaw

thedeep,darkcirclesunderhisdeepblueeyes,thetearscamefastandhot.

“Ihavebeenthinking,”Ireplied.“IwasthinkingabouthowmuchIhurtyouwhen

allyoueverdidwastrytohelpme.AndhowmuchIloveyou.Iloveyousomuch.”I
satup,wrappingmyarmsaroundhim.Mysobsshookthebothofus.“I’msorry,”Isaid
betweensobs.“IswearIdidn’tmeantohurtyou.”

“Youdidn’thurtme,Deja,”heassuredmeashestrokedmyhair.
“IknowIdid.Imadeyoucomehomeearly.IknewyouwereattheCombine,butI

madeyoucomehomeearlyanywaybecauseIwasselfish.IhatemyselfforwhatIdid
toyou.”

“Youdidn’tdoanything.Ididn’thavetocomehome.Icouldhavetoldyoutotake

careofyourself.”

“Iknewyouwouldn’t,”Isaid.“That’snotwhoyouare.Itookadvantageofyou.”
“Don’tbesohardonyourself.”
“I deserve it. I deserve all of it. It’s time for me to be hard on myself.” I pulled

myself away from him and looked him in the eye. It hurt so much—my whole body
was in pain and agony. I couldn’t let it get in the way of what I needed to do. I felt
brokenupinside,treadon,aching,tired.“Itookadvantage,andIshouldn’thavedone
thattoyou.”

“Imademychoices,too.Iguesswebothfuckedup.”Hesmoothedthehairoffmy

cheek,whereitwaswetfrommytears.

“I’mgoingbacktorehab.”
“Really?Promise?”
Inodded.Myheadfeltlikeitwasabouttofalloff,butInoddeditanyway.“Yes.I’m

goingback.”

“Whatchangedyourmind?”
“Everything.”Ilookeddownatthebedspread.“AndIwantyoutoforgetaboutme

whileI’minthere.”

“What?”Hetookmebythearms.“Noway.Ican’tforgetaboutyou,Iloveyou.I’m

not lying when I say that, and I’m not saying it because I feel sorry for you or
something.Idon’tcarewhatyouthink.Youhavetobelieveme.”

“Idobelieveyou.SobelievethatI’mdoingthisbecauseIknowyouloveme,and

because I love you.” I reached out and stroked his cheek. It was rough with stubble.
“Believeme,thisisn’teasyformetosay.Justletmegetitout,okay?”

“I’mlistening.”
Itookadeepbreath,stilltouchinghim.Ihadtotouchhim.Ididn’tknowwhenorif

Iwouldbeabletotouchhimagain,andIhadtogetasmuchasIcould.

“Nomoreexcuses.Nomoreblamingmypoorchoicesonmychildhood.I’mgonna

godowhatIhavetodo.I’mgonnagetmyselftogetheragainandI’mgonnalearnhow
tostaywell.Imeanit.Iwantabetterlifeformyselfbecausetherehastobemoreto
life than this. And I didn’t know there was before I came back here, because I didn’t
think much of myself. I didn’t think I was worth very much. It’s been a challenge
lovingmyselfwhennobodyhaseverlovedme.”

Everywordwastrue,everysingleone.Iknewitthen,justasIwassayingit.
“ButIloveyou,Deja.”
“I know you do. But it’s time, Tyler. I have to take responsibility. It’s do or die.

Literally.”Iletoutaslightchuckle.“YourtoughloveisjustwhatIneededtoseewhatI

wasdoingwrongwithmylife.”

“I’mglad,”hereplied,nodding.“Youdeservesomuchbetter.Itpainsmetoseesuch

a young, beautiful woman with her whole life ahead of her, fall apart in front of my
eyes. You’re my best friend. I just want you to be happy and stop drinking the pain
away. Don’t let what happened in your childhood prevent you from being the best
womanyoucanbe.Okay,baby?”

“Iwanttobehappy,too.”Inoddedandwipedmyeyes.“Andyoudeservesomuch

better.WhichiswhyIthinkyoushouldmoveonwithoutmewhileI’maway.Idon’t
want you worry about me. Just do you and worry about yourself. Take care of what
youneedtodo.Getdrafted.Behappy.I’mserious.”

“Andwhathappenstoyou?”
“I’lltakecareofmeuntilIgetout.AndwhenIdo…”Ilookeddownagain.“Idon’t

know.Maybewecanworkitoutthen.Wecanfindoutifwehaveafuturetogether.We
canevenstartover,maybe.Ifyoustillwantto.”

“Whywouldn’tIwantto?”Hetookmyhands.“I.Love.You,DejaJones.That’snever

gonnachange.”

“Let’s be real. That’s not always enough for two people to be happy together. I

mean,rightnowweloveeachother,andI’mkillingyou.”

“You’renotkillingme.”
“YoulooklikeIam.I’msorry,butyoudo.”Itouchedhisfaceagain,andheclosed

hiseyes.“WhenIgetout,andI’mhealthier,wecanstartfromthere.We’llseewhere
wegoafterthat.AndI’lldomyverybest,Iswear.I’llgetitrightthistime.”

“HowdoIknowyou’restillgonnawantmewhenyougetout?”
I would have laughed if everything inside didn’t hurt so much. “You’re kidding,

right?HowcouldIevernotwantyou?IhavelovedyousinceIwastwelveyearsold,
TylerJohnson.AndI’llloveyoufortherestofmylife.”

We kissed. Tyler tasted salty, and I didn’t know if I was tasting my tears or his or

both.Iwasdoingtherightthing,finally.Itwastimetotakecareofme.

“Comeon,”Iwhispered.“Cometobed.Webothneedtorest.”
“Willyou…?”
“Will I be okay?” I asked. “I’ll be fine. When I’m asleep, it doesn’t matter. And I

couldsleepforaweekrightnow.”

“What a coincidence. Me, too.” He laid down next to me and I settled in. He was

asleepbeforehecouldgethisarmallthewayaroundme,soIfinishedthejobforhim
andlistenedtothesoundofhisheartbeatingashedriftedoff.Yes.Iwasfinallydoing
therightthing,notonlyforme,butforthebothofus.

2 0

T Y L E R

bounced on the balls of my feet. Up and down, up and down. I couldn’t keep my

palmsfromsweatingeither,eventhoughIknewthingswouldworkout.Theyhadto
workout.Ihadworkedallmylifeforthemtoworkout.

“You’llbeokay.”Coachwasstandingofftomyrightwithhisarmsfoldedoverhis

chest.Hisjawwasworkingupanddown,meaninghewaschewinggum.Heonlyever
chewedgumwhenhewasnervous.Hecouldn’tfoolme.

“Iknow.”
“Youvisitedthreeteams.”
“Iwasthere.Iknow.”
“Andthey’vebeenfightingoveryoufortwoweeks.”
Ilookedathim.Heshutup.Hewasright,ofcourse.Itwasonlyamatterofwhohad

decided to take me. I would have gone with any of them—Seattle, Denver, New
England.Itwasadreamcometruealready,andIhadn’tevengottenpickedyet.

“Iwishthiswouldgoalittlefaster.”Allthosemonths—no,years—leadinguptothat

momenthadpassedinaflash.AndnowthatIwasstandingbackstageattheDraft,time
stretchedoutendlessly.Itfeltlikemyturnwouldnevercome.Eachpicktookminutes
thatfeltlikehours.

“I used to like watching this,” Coach muttered. “When it was on TV and I wasn’t

nervousashell.”

“I’mnotthefirstpersonyouevercoachedwhogotdrafted,”Iremindedhim.
“No.You’rethebest,though.”
My face reddened and I turned away because I didn’t know what to say. The last

thingIneededjustthenwastogetallemotional.Therewasn’tmuchroomforemotion
there, although I had already seen a couple of guys with tears streaming down their
faceswhentheywalkedoutonstagetotaketheirjerseyandshaketheCommissioner’s
hand.

Itwouldbemyturn.Finally.
Istraightenedmyblacktieforthehundredthtime.Iwasgoingtostranglemyselfif

Ididn’tstoptighteningit.Icouldhardlybreatheasitwas.

“IwonderifDejaiswatching,”Imuttered.Irubbedmyhandstogether—theywere

still sweaty. I looked around real fast and wiped them on the legs of my suit pants
beforeshovingthemintothepockets,balledup.

“She’swatching.I’msuresheis.”
Iglancedoverathim.“Whendidyoutalktoher?”
“Don’t worry about her right now,” he warned. “Remember, you told her you

weren’tgonnathinkaboutherwhenthedaycame.”

“Isaiditbecauseitwaswhatshewantedtohear,”Igrumbled.“Nobodycouldkeepa

promiselikethat.”

“Well,youshouldatleasttry.Givethegirlwhatshewants.Anddon’tthinkIwon’t

tellheryouweretalkingabouther,either.”

“Youwon’t.”
“SeeifIdon’t.”
I rolled my eyes. It had been hell without her for all those weeks, even though I

knewitwasforthebest.Wehadn’ttalkedatall,mostlybecauseshedidn’twantto.And
afterthefirstweekorso,Icouldunderstandwhyithadbeensoimportanttoher.She
wantedmetogetmyshitinorder.Thatmeantlettinggoofmyfriendsandfocusingon
gettingreadyfortheDraft.TheycouldhavehandledthesituationwithDejadifferently
and they shouldn’t have told me to push her away. I would never apologize for
supportingthewomanIloved.So,asfarasIwasconcerned,theycouldkissmyassand
I’msureDejawouldagree.

It also helped that I traveled a lot during that time, visiting the teams and

interviewingwiththeheadfootballcoaches.Itdistractedme,forone,butitreminded
me why I was doing what I was doing, too. Just walking out onto the fields in those
massivestadiums,allthelightsblazing,remindedmeofmydreams.Iwassocloseto
seeing them all come true. It was a little scary, actually. More than a little. Nobody
expectsdreamslikeminetocometrue,butIwasstandingontheedge.

Itwould’vebeennicetohaveDejatotalktojustthen,butsheneededtotakecareof

herself,too.Iwouldn’tstandinthewayofherrecovery.

Ipulledmyhandsfrommypocketsandstraightenedoutmyblackblazeragain.
“Kid,stop.You’regonnarubholesinthatsuitifyoudon’tstoptouchingandfixing

it.Ididn’tspendallthatmoneytohaveyouwalkouttherelookinglikeaslob,”Coach
chastised.

“Sorry.” When I thought about all the people who might come with me, only one

facecametomind.Ihadtohavehimthere.Coachwasmoreofafathertomethanany
manhadeverbeen,andhedeservedit.Besides,heofferedtobuymethesuit.Itold
himthatwastheclincher.

“Shh, it’s Seattle.” We stood there in the middle of all the other people walking

around—players, stagehands, members of the media, cameramen—and waited with
ourbreathsheld.

“Seattlechooses…RyanMorgan,runningback,”theCommissionercalledout.
Iclapped,nodding.Ryanwasagoodguyandoneofthebestrunningbacksinthat

year’sclass.

“Okay,”Coachreplied.“Soyoudon’thavetomakeSeattleyourhomebase.Itpisses

rainthereallyearlong.Depressing.”

“Yeah.Depressing.”Hewasright.Itwasarainy,gloomyplace.Itwasalsohomeof

thelatestchampionshipteam.But,itwasjustoneoutofthree.

IdideverythingIcouldtokeepfrompacing.Ididn’twanteverybodyelsetoknow

whatIwasgoingthroughinside.Ihadn’thadalotofhopesforSeattle,anyway.They
weremythirdchoiceoutofthethree.Itwasforthebest.ThatwaswhatItoldmyself.
Itwasforthebest.Ijustneededtobelieveit.

We had waited another twenty minutes before Denver came up. Funny how I

thoughtaboutDeja.IwishedIhadhertheretoholdmyhand.Iwishedshewouldtell
meitwouldallbeokay.Sure,Coachcouldandhad,butitwould’vebeennicecoming
fromher.

Ilookedoutontothestageandsawjustalittlebitofthethousandsofpeoplesitting

outintherowsandrowsofseats.Itwasenoughtomakemybladderfeeltoofull.Ihad
to get used to seeing all those faces—hell, I had seen more faces than that during a
normal game at school. But this was different. It was the real thing. And all of them
wouldhaveanopiniononwhetherornottheteamthatchosemehadmadetheright
decision.

IimaginedDejawaswatching.Iimaginedshewaswatchingandshewashopingfor

the best. She was healthy, happy, and ready to face the rest of her life, with me.
Because I still wanted to be with her. I wanted her more than anything. She was the
only person who understood me, inside and out. I needed her next to me, especially
withtheprosbreathingdownmyneck.Groupiesandpublicistsandcoachesandtravel
—Iwantedagoodwomanbymyside.

Iwantedher.
“Herewego,”CoachsaidwhentheCommissionerapproachedthemicrophonewith

asheetofpaperinhishand.Itookadeepbreathandblewitouthard.Myheartwas
aboutreadytojumpoutofmychest.

“Denverchooses…ChadMatthers,quarterback.”
Thatstung.Iclosedmyeyesandrockedbackonmyheels.Anotherquarterback.I

knewtheywerelookingatChad.Ihadheardtheywere,atleast.Andtheretheywere,
pickinghimoverme,eventhoughtheymadeitsoundliketheywerereadytowalkon
brokenglasstogetme.

“Shit,”Coachmuttered.
“It’sokay,Coach.”
Butitwasn’tokay,butIdidn’twanthimtoknow.Ifeltapressurebuildinginmy

chest.Twoteamsdown.

“Thenit’sgottabeNewEngland,”heassuredme.
“You don’t know that. I was almost sure it would be Denver and look what

happened.”

“Theyhaveahard-onforyouamilehigh,kid.Believeme,you’llgetNewEngland.”
“Theyalreadyhavetheirquarterback,”Iremindedhim.
“Notformuchlonger.He’sgottaretire.One,twomoreseasonsandhe’sgone.Then

youstepin,andyou’llkill‘em.Iknowit.”

“Ihopeyou’reright.”Icouldjustaseasilygetcutbeforetheregularseasonstarted,

like so many other poor suckers did. They thought their dreams were coming true
when they got drafted, didn’t they? But what happened? They didn’t pass muster
duringthepreseason,sotheygotcutandhadtofallbackonotherplansortrytoget
pickedupbutanotherteam.Butwhowouldpickthemupiftheydidn’tperformforthe
team that first drafted them? It was a pretty sad situation. I would be damned if that

wouldendupbeingme.I’dworkmyassoff.I’dsteponanybodywhogotinmyway.
TherewasnowayIwouldletmyteamgooncethey’ddecidedtopickmeup.

“Ijustdon’tknowifthey’relookingtopickupanotherQBwhentheyalreadyhavea

starontheirhands,”Imuttered.

“You’llsee.”
“Therearealotofotherspotstheyneedtofillfirst.”
“They’llpickyou.I’dbetmyhouseonit.”
“Ihopeyoudon’tmindtheideaofbeinghomeless.”
Hechuckled.“Justbelieveme,kid.”
Thelightsoutonthestageweresobright,almostblinding.OnceIsteppedoutthere,

the rest of my life would start. Unless I died backstage first. That was possible, too. I
couldhaveastroke.

“Trytoenjoyit,”IheardCoachmutter.
“Enjoyit?HowcouldIenjoythis?”
“You’lllookbackonthisoneday—whenyou’reinNewEngland.”Hesneered.“And

you’lllaughathownervousyouwere.”

“Didyoueverhaveoneofthosemomentswheneverythinginyourwholelifecame

together?Likeeverythingyoueverdreamedofandworkedforandhopedfor?”

“Yeah.WhenIgotdrafted.”Coachsnickered.
“Oh.Right.”
“Iknowwhatyou’regoingthrough,andthat’swhyIknowyou’lllaughatthisone

day.BecauseIdid.You’lllookback,andyou’llknowitwasallpartofabigplan.Itwas
meanttobe.”

“Doyoufeelthatway?Evenaftereverything?”
He nodded. “Even after everything. Because if I kept going the way I was, kid, I

would’ve killed myself or maybe even somebody else. I would’ve gotten behind the
wheelafterabenderandtakenoutsomebodyelse,someinnocentperson.Thatinjury
wasthebestthingthateverhappenedtome.Itjusttookalotofyearsformetofigure
itout.”

Avoicesoundedoutoverthesoundsystem.“NewEnglandhasfiveminutes.”
Thewordssentachillupmyspinethatendedatmyheartandfrozeitup.Iwascold

inside.

“Thisisit,”Coachpattedmeonback.
“I’mgonnapuke.”
“No,you’renot.”
“I’mgonnapassthefuckoutrighthere.”
“No,youwon’t.You’llbegreat.Justsmilewhenyougetoutthereandputonyour

hatandposewithyourjerseyandsoakitallin.Thisiswhatyou’vebeenworkingfor.”

ThiswaswhatIhadbeenworkingfor.Yeah,itwas.Anditfeltgood.Really,really

good.Ideservedit.IjustwishedDejawastheretoshareitwithme.WhyhadIagreed
nottotalktoheruntiltheDraft?Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?Ishould’veknown
I would need her. She was already out of rehab—she’d been out for a week by then.
Whatwasstoppingme?

No.Ididn’tneedher.
Yeah.Isortofdid.

“Here we go.” Coach’s hand was heavy on my shoulder. I held my breath for the

thirdtime.Ithadtohappen.Itwouldhappen.Iknewitwould.Itwasmeanttobe.

“NewEnglandchooses…”
“Yougotthis,kid!”Coachshouted.
“TylerJohnsonHunter,quarterback!”
“Holy shit!” I turned to Coach, and he threw his arms around me. I heard him

laughing,tellingmeIdeservedit.Heknewitwouldworkoutright.Iwantedtothank
him.Hedeservedmythanks.ButIcouldn’tthinkofanythingtosay.Hepulledaway
withtearsinhiseyes.

“Getoutthere!”Coachlaughedandpushedmealittletogetmegoing.
Everything happened at once. I saw the lights and heard the applause. Cameras

flashed.IwasoverjoyedasIsteppedoutontothestage.Andeverythingpassedbefore
myeyes.ThefirsttimeIeverheldafootball.ThefirsttimeIevergothurtinagame
withmyfriends.Learningtothrow.WatchingmyfavoritesintheSuperBowl.Making
thehighschoolteam.FindingoutIgotascholarshiptocollege.Thechampionship.

IreachedthepodiumandacceptedahatandahandshakefromtheCommissioner.

Together, we held up my New England jersey and smiled for our picture together. It
wasthemostsurrealmomentofmylife.IfeltlikeIwasfloatingonair,likeitwasall
happeninginslowmotion.Isawafewfacesinthefrontoftheaudience,andtheywere
smilingandclapping.Theylikedthechoice.Theywerehappyforme.Therestofmy
lifewasabouttostart.

IonlyhopedDejawaswatching,somewhere.Iimaginedheroutthere,watchingon

TV,watchingmydreamscomingtrue.IhopedsheknewIwastakingherwithme,that
itwasn’tjustmewhohadwonthatday.Iwantedmylifetobeherlife,too.Ourlife.

IturnedbacktowhereI’dcomefromandmetCoachforanotherhug.Theplayers

still waiting back there patted me on the back, shook my hand, wished me well. I
smiledandwavedandthankedthem.ItwasstilllikeIwasmovinginslowmotion.I
couldn’tquitegetmyheadaroundwhatwashappening.Noneofitseemedreal.

Wewalkedouttothehallwaywhichledtoasmallerconferenceroom,whereeach

playerwasinterviewedbyabunchofnewsreportersatonce.Morecamerasflashing,
morevoices,moreeverything.Icouldonlynodandthankthemforcongratulatingme.

“Ijustwannagetout thereanddomy bestformyteam.They believeinme,so I

wanttopaythatback.”Everybodylikedthatanswer,Icouldtell.

I stepped off to the side when my cell phone started ringing. I hoped beyond

anything that it was Deja calling, but it wasn’t. Still, I didn’t mind getting a call from
NewEngland’sheadcoach.

“Congratulations,Tyler.Ilookforwardtoworkingwithyou.”
“Thankyou,sir.”Isneered.“I’mhonoredandveryhappy.”
“That’s good to hear. We’re all enthusiastic about you joining us. Enjoy yourself

today,dosomecelebrating.You’veearnedit.Anddon’tworry—we’llworkyouhardto
makeupforit.”

Ilaughed.“Thankyou,sir.I’mlookingforwardtoit.”
WhenIhungup,Ifeltgiddy.Itwasallhappening.
AndtherewasCoach,smiling.“Youknowwhat?”Iaskedhim.
“What?”

“You’realwaysgonnabemycoach,nomatterwhereIgo.”Igavehimanotherhug.

Ihopedthatwasenough,becauseifIsaidmuchmore,I’dgetalittlemoreemotional
thanIwantedtogetinpublic.

“I’ve got something for you.” We were alone, or mostly alone—there were still

hundredsofpeoplerunningaroundthearenawheretheeventwastakingplace.Iwas
justanotheroneofthedrafteesthen.Itwasincredible,howrelievedIfelt.

“Whatisit?”Iasked.
Heturnedtohisleft,andIlookedtoseewhathewaslookingat.Icouldn’tbelieve

myeyeswhenIsawit.

Shelookedsogood.Somuchbetter.Shewasalwaysabeautifulgirl,butshelooked

healthier.Herbrowneyeswerebrighter.Shewaswearingaprettyfloralspringdressin
ashadeofpinkthatbroughtouthereyes.Shewalkedtomefromwhereshehadbeen
waitingintheverybackoftheauditorium.

Iforgoteverythingelsejustthen.Everything.AllIsawwasDeja.Irantoherand

threwmyarmsaroundherwaist,liftingheroffthefloor.Shesquealedandlaughed.

“Boy,putmedown!”Shegiggled.
“Youwerethere?”Iputheronherfeet,takingherfaceinmyhands.“Yousaw?”
“Isaw.Icouldn’tstayaway.Coachhelpedmegetouthere.”
“Son of a bitch.” I looked over my shoulder to see him smiling. He knew how to

keepasecret.

“Ihadtoseeitformyself,”sheexplainedwithtearyeyes.“AndI’msogladIdid.I’m

soproudofyou,Tyler.”

“I’mproudofyou.”Iheldherfacestill,takingallofherinwithmyeyes.“You’reso

beautiful.”

“Imissedyou,”shewhispered.
“Imissedthehellouttayou.”
“Doyoustillwantme?”
Iansweredbykissingher.Shemeltedintome,anditmightaswellhavebeenjust

thetwoofusstandingthere.Nothingelseandnobodyelsematteredbutus.

“

E P I L O G U E

D EJ A

eja?Doyouhavevowsyou’dliketosharewithTyler?”

Inodded,thendrewadeepbreath.
“Notmanypeoplewouldhavegivenmeasmanychancesasyoudid,”Isaid.“You

nevergaveuponmeandstoodbymewhenIwasintheworstshapeofmylife.You
loved me when I didn’t love myself. You brought me back when I was at my lowest,
whenIdidn’tfeellikelifewasworthlivinganymore.”

Tylerwipedhistears.
“It was you who convinced me that I was beautiful and deserving of a better life.

Withoutyou,yourlove,yourencouragement,andyoursupport,Idon’tknowwhereI
would be right now. And for that I’m truly grateful and blessed to have a best friend
andsoon-to-behusbandbymyside.”

Ipausedtogathermyself.
“Younevergaveuponme.”Ibrokedownintears.
“Never,”heshookhishead.
Iwipedmyeyesandhesneeredsoftlyandnodded,encouragingmetocontinue.It

wasnevereasyformetospeakinpublic,thoughIwasgettingbetteratitovertime.

Iwenton.“Thishasbeenthehappiestthreeyearsofmylife—watchingyoubecome

the man you are, the player you are. Building a life with you. Loving you through
everything.Allthetravel,alltheplayoffgames.”Iheardafewgentlelaughsfromthe
guests, as most of them were Tyler’s teammates. The rest were my classmates from
school,whereIwasworkingonadegreeinEducation,andthefriendsI’dmadeinour
hometown. I could feel the love coming from them as I spoke. “I’ve even loved you
througheverythingthatgoesalongwithlivinglifeinthespotlight.I’velovedyouevery
minute of every day we’ve been together, and I’ll keep doing that as long as there’s
breathinmybody.Ipledgemylifetoyou.Ipledgemylovetoyou.Ipledgemyfaith
anddevotion,todayandalways.”

Tylerclearedhisthroat.
“Deja. I take you as you are, loving who you are now and who you are yet to

become.Ipromisetolistentoyouandlearnfromyou,tosupportyouandacceptyour
support.Iwillcelebrateyourtriumphsandmournyourlossesasthoughtheyweremy
own.Iwillloveyouandhavefaithinyourloveforme,throughallouryearsandall
thatlifemaybringus.Iloveyouunconditionallyandwithouthesitation.Ivowtolove

“

you, encourage you, trust you, and respect you. As a family, we will create a home
filledwithlearning,laughter,andcompassionforusandourfutureoffspring.”

“Babies?”Iinterrupted.
“Iwantfourofthem.”Tylereyeswidened.
TheguestssharedalaughterandTylercontinued.
“IwantthefamilythatIneverhad,Deja.”Tylersniffed.
“Ido,too.”Inodded.
“Ipromisetoworkwithyoutofosterandcherisharelationshipofequalityknowing

thattogetherwewillbuildalifefarbetterthaneitherofuscouldimaginealone.Today,
Ichooseyoutobemywife.Iwillcareforyou,standbesideyou,andsharewithyouall
oflife’sadversitiesandallofitsjoysfromthisdayforward,andallthedaysofmylife.”

Tears blurred my vision as Tyler finished his vows. I squeezed his hands, and he

squeezedback.Ifeltthehard,coolmetalbandI’djustslidoverhisringfinger.

Momentslater,weweremarried.DejaandTylerHunter.Andthatwasit.Therestof

ourliveswereabouttostart.Therestofmylifeasasoberwomanwholovedherself
andfoundherworth.Icouldn’tbehappier.

h,myGod.”Ileanedagainstthewalloftheelevatorcar.Ibenttotakeoffoneshoe,

thentheother,andIwasneversohappyinmylifeasIwasjustthen.Notevenwhen
theministerdeclaredushusbandandwife.

“Overtime in a blizzard isn’t as exhausting as that was,” Tyler muttered, his head

backagainstthewall,hiseyesclosed.

“Everybodywasthereforus!”
“Iknow.AndIwantedthemtogohomesoIcouldgetyouupstairsinoursuite.”
I giggled, even through the absolute bone-crushing exhaustion. “I know that

feeling.” We walked down the hall together, hand-in-hand, once we reached the top
floorofthehotel.Andnosoonerhadhecarriedmeacrossthethresholdwhenheput
medownbythedoorandattackedmetheseconditwasclosed.

“Eager,”IgiggledasIclosedmyeyes.
“AfraidI’llfallasleep,”hemutteredasheworkedmyslim-fittingsatingownupover

mylegs.Ilaughed,butmylaughfelloffwhenIfeltheatstirringbetweenmythighs.

His tongue moved slowly over my sensitive skin, tracing soft, wet circles over my

throatanduptomyearlobe.Hemademykneesweakeverytimehedidthat,which
waswhyhealwaysdidit.Heknewmesowell.Everybitofme.

Imeltedagainsthimandwhimperedsoftlyashishandsstartedtakingalong,slow

tourofmybody.Heslidupundermydressashebackedmeupagainstthedoor,andI
whimperedagainashestrokedmynearlybareass.

“Mmm,Ilovewhenyouwearathong,”hegrowledbeforesuckingmyearlobe,then

bitingdownonit.Ishiveredatthedelicioussensation,runningmyfingersthroughhis
blondehair,holdinghisheadcloseashepulledmeclosertohimbelowthebelt.

“IlovewhatIfeelpokingagainstme,”Imoaned,andrubbedmybodyagainsthis

growingerection.Hegrowled,makingthelittlehairsatthenapeofmyneckstandon
end.Icouldhardlycontrolmyself.Hestrokedupanddownmyasscheeksashekissed

myneck,andIhadtoholdontohimtokeepfrommeltingintothefloor.

He found my mouth, and when our lips met, it felt like fireworks going off inside

me.Imoanedwhenourtonguestouched,hisdancingwithmineasweheldeachother
tight.Iwrappedonelegaroundhishipsandpulledhimincloser,beggingformoreof
him.

Myfingerscurledintohishairashismouthmoveddownagain,thistimetraveling

thelengthofmythroatbeforehelickedmycollarbone,thenmovedfurtherdown.He
thrusted his hips against me, and I felt his hard, sure member pressing through his
pants.Hetookaragged,shakybreathashegropedandfondledme,histongueswirling
overmyskin.

Onehandleftmyassandmoveduptothetopofmygown,slidingoneofthestraps

overmyshoulder.Hepeeledthesatindownovermybreast,takingthebracupwithit,
and immediately latched onto my nipple. I purred, gripping his head even tighter,
holdinghimcloseasIthrustmytitintohismouth.

“Yes.Baby,”Imoanedwithpleasure,gettingwetterbythesecondashisotherhand

slid onto my clit. He found my clit right away and rubbed it as he sucked on me. I
closedmyeyes,gasping,clutchinghimtightashepossessedme.

“Oh,God,”Imoanedasthefirstorgasmsweptoverme.Itwassosudden,soeasy,

becauseheknewmybodysowell.Heknewallofme.Isighed,slumpingbackagainst
thewallalittle.Heonlygrinned.

“I hope you know there’s more where that came from,” he murmured before

bending to throw me over his shoulder. I squealed and laughed as he carried me
through the suite to the bed, still half hanging out of my gown. Not that there was
anybodytheretoseeus.

The bedroom was dark, our king-sized bed in the middle. He stood me beside the

bed,thensatinfrontofme.

“Takeitoff,”hedemanded,andIfeltalittleshiverasIdidwhathewanted.Islidthe

otherstrapovermyshoulder,thenshimmiedoutuntilitwasnothingbutapuddleof
satinonthefloor.Isteppedoutofit,thenunhookedmybraandtosseditasideaswell.
Iwasdowntomythong.Theprominentbulgeinhispantstoldmewhathethoughtof
whathesaw.

He held out his hands, and I took them and allowed him to pull me between his

openthighs.

“DidItellyouhowbeautifulyoulookedinyourweddingdress?”
Iblushed,strokingthetopofhisheadashisfingertipsdancedovermyskin.Iclosed

my eyes, rolling my head back on my neck as waves of bliss rolled over me.
Goosebumpsstoodoutonmyskinashetookhistimetouchingme,everypartofme.I
whimperedhisname.Overandover,hisname.Iwouldnevergettiredofwhispering
hisnameinthedarkness.

Hispinklipstouchedmystomach,myhips,mythighs.Isighed,windingmyarms

around his neck as he kissed my smooth skin. He slid the suit jacket over his broad
shoulders,thenIpulledoffhistiewhileheunbuttonedhisshirt.Myhandsslidoverhis
shouldersandback,oncehewasshirtless.Hisbodywasanever-endingsourceofjoy
for me. I would never get enough of his tight muscles, bulging like they did. I’d seen
whattheycoulddoonthefootballfieldandknewwhathecoulddotome.Ilikedwhat

hedidtomebetter.

Aslow,steadyheathadstartedtobuildbetweenmythighs,gettinghotterandhotter

thelongerheteasedmewiththoseskillfulhandsofhis.Iclosedmyeyesagainashe
nibbledmytits,lickingandsucking,flickingthetipofhistongueoveronenippleata
time, going back and forth. I cried out over and over, begging for more, my cries
turninghoarseasthepleasurerolledonandon.Hishandsworkedatthesametime.
Hepulledmythighsapartanddippedhisfingersintomyslickpussy.Itwasheavenly,
andIcriedouthisnamewhenhemadecontactwithmyclitagain.

“Tyler,” I moaned, bearing down on his hand. I rocked my hips on him, grinding,

givingmyselfwhatIneeded.IknewheloveditwhenIdidthat.Helovedwatchingme
getoff.Itonlygothimhotter,harder.Sweetecstasywashedovermeashesuckedon
mytits,myhipsgrindingfasterandfasterasIscreamedandshook.

“Yes!” I cried out, almost sobbing by the time I came. It was all too much

sometimes, all the passion he stirred up in me along with the pleasure and the love
betweenus.IthoughtIcouldn’ttakeit,butIalwaysmanagedtogetthrough.Andhe
wasalwaystherewhenIdid.Ilookeddownathimwithasmile,kissinghimsoftlyin
thanks.

Then I pushed him back firmly until he was on his back. I sank to my knees, my

hands already stroking him through his pants. He was hard, hot, twitching, ready for
me. I unbuckled his belt and took my time sliding the zipper down. I knew how to
drivehimcrazy,too.Hewasn’ttheonlyonewholikedtoplaygames.

“Damn,baby,”hegroanedwhenIpulledhispantstothefloor,thenfreedhimfrom

his boxers. I ran my hands up and down his thick, muscular thighs before running
them up his shaft. He groaned, taking me by the back of my head and running his
fingersthroughmyhair.Iextendedmytongueandranitaroundthehead,thentook
himintomymouth.Hegroanedagain,thrustinghishipsuptomatchmydownward
stroke.Imoanedinapproval,whichmadehimtwitchandsurgeinmymouth.

Ibobbedbackup,thensankdown.Up,thendowninaslow,sensualrhythm.Iliked

getting into it, taking my time, using my tongue along the underside of the shaft to
makehimwritheandmoanmyname.

“Fuck,” he grunted, urging me on, thrusting his hips upward to match my

downward strokes. I let him take over for a little while, fucking my mouth, grunting
and panting as I sucked just a little harder with each thrust. I ran my hands all over
him,hischestandabsandlegs,takinghimin.

Hewasmine.
Allmine,forever.
Itseemedlikeadream,buttherewasnodreamthatcouldmatchhowgoodIfelt

justthen.Hegaspedsharplybeforepullingoutofmymouth.

“Notyet,”hewhisperedwithashakylaugh.“Damn,girl,you’regoodatthat.”
“Iknowwhatyoulike,”Iteased.
“Youdo?ThenyouknowwhatI’mabouttotellyoutodo,”hereachedoverfora

condomfromthenightstandwhileIstraddledhim.“Wait,wewon’tbeneedingthese
anymore.”

“Yousaidfour,right?”Ibitmybottomlip.
He grinned wickedly and when he was ready, I lowered myself over him, taking

himinsideme.WebothgroanedwhenIreachedthebase.

“Youfeelsogoodinsideme,”Ibreathed,runningmyhandsoverhimagain.
“Ride my dick, baby girl,” he groaned, taking me by the hips. I started moving up

anddown,knowingjusthowIlikedit,rollingmyhipsincirclesandgrindingmyclit
againsthim.IranmyhandsuphisarmsuntilIwastohisshoulders,thenIleanedon
myarmsasmyhipsmovedupanddown.

“Iloveyou,”hewhispered,lookingupatme.
“Iloveyou.”Ismiled,tearsfillingmyeyesevenasthesensationofbeingsofilledby

himcausedatighteninginmycore.Tighter,tighterthelongerIrode.Imoaned,eyes
closed,gettingintoitwithmywholebody.Iswungmyhairfromsidetoside,crying
outashestartedthrustingupwardintome.Itwassogood.Toogood,almost.Hishands
ranovermybody,overallofme,untilhecuppedmytitsandtwistedmynipplesuntilI
criedoutonemoretime,clenchingdownaroundhimuntilIcollapsed,shiveringasI
finishedcomingagain.

Herolledoveruntilhewasontopofme,andIwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaistas

he started taking me, hard and fast. I held on tight, my arms around his shoulders,
grunting with each strong, deep thrust. Everything he did only felt better and better
untilwewerebothpantingandgroaninglikeanimals,wetbodiesslammingtogetheras
I jerked my hips up to meet his thrusts. We used each other, taking the pleasure we
wanted,workingtowardourrelease.

“Fuckme.Fuckme.”Ibitdownonhisbroadshoulder,andheroaredinpainand

pleasure.Heonlyfuckedmethatmuchharder,too,untilIlostmyselfinsensation.

Whenitcame,itwasexplosive.Tylerwaslikeajackhammer,slammingintomein

a blur of movement while I let out a long cry that got louder and louder the closer I
cametofinishing.Mywholebodysanglikeaninstrument,andIgavemyselfovertoit,
closingmyeyesandshriekingintheend.Hegruntedonemoretime,goingstiffbefore
fallingontopofmeandknockingthewindoutofmylungs.

Ilaughedbreathlesslyasherolledoff.
“Sorry,”hepanted,hisflushedskincoveredinathinsheenofsweat.Irolledonto

mysideandgiggled.

“Ishouldmarryyoueveryday,”Ideclared.“Imeanifit’slikethat…”
He grinned, grabbing my ring finger which glistened with a princess-cut diamond

ringin14Kwhitegoldandkissedit.“I’mtheluckiestman,alive.”Hebeamed.“AndI
gotthehottestwifeontheteam,too.”

Iblushed.“Well,you’recute,orwhatever.”
“Justcute,huh?”Hetickledmeonmysideandturnedtocompletelyfaceme.
“Stop!Okay,okay.Youwin!”
“Nah,youwin,”hewinked.“I’msoproudofyoumysexycollegegirl.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me to wear one of those slutty school girl

costumes.”

“Well,sinceyouoffered…”
Wesharedalaughandhegavemealongpassionatekiss,andIcouldn’tbelievethe

waylifeworkedout.Howmanypeoplegottosaytheymettheloveoftheirlifewhen
theyweretwelveyearsold?Andhowmanypeoplegotasecondchanceatmakingit
work?