4
Ace
I regret it the moment I jam my finger on the call button.
Fucking damn it. I blame Bryant Johnson and her southern voodoo magic for this. I’ve wanted to call Lucy for months and was able to resist temptation, then one frustrating brunch with Bryant and I’m doing what I swore I wouldn’t do.
Lucy doesn’t want to hear from me. I almost destroyed her relationship. I did destroy our friendship. We were on cordial terms before I left Western State and I was happy with that. Well, as happy as you can be after torpedoing the friendship that mattered most to you.
I’ll just hang up. Yeah, I’ll hang up and if she texts about the missed call, I can blame it on a pocket dial. I quickly move my finger to end and—
“Hello?”
Shit.
Like an idiot, I fall mute.
“Hello?” Lucy takes on an irritated tone. I hear a lot of voices in the background but they’re too muffled to make out the words. “I know it’s you, JR. I have caller ID.”
A choked laugh sputters out. I clear my throat and say, “Hey, sorry. I was just, ah, taking a sip of water just as you picked up.”
“Oh. Okay.” She obviously doesn’t believe me, and now she sounds more uncomfortable than annoyed. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”
I sink down on the edge of my bed and rub my chin with my free hand. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I, uh…” Damn, this is awkward. “I just wanted to say hi, but I, ah, I didn’t know if it was okay to call you.”
“Oh,” she says again. There’s a rustling noise over the extension. “Hold on a sec, I’m just going to another room.”
My guard shoots up. Is she with Matty right now? I can picture him scowling at the phone, mouthing for her to hang up on the asshole who tried to fuck with their relationship. Matty Iverson is a nice guy, and was always decent to me when I was at Western, but even the nicest of guys have trouble tolerating relationship sabotage.
“’Kay, back,” Lucy says, and the background is quiet now. “I’m at Matty’s,” she unknowingly confirms, “and the guys are playing video games with the volume on full blast.”
“How’s he doing? Matty, I mean?” So. Fucking. Awkward. “He’s captain this year, huh?”
“Yep, and not too thrilled about it,” she answers with a laugh. “He doesn’t like the responsibility. And he’s doing well. We’re doing well.”
There’s a slight edge to the we’re, as if she’s reminding me that they’re a couple and there’s not a goddamned thing I can do about it.
“Good. I’m glad,” I say thickly. I have to clear my throat again. “You sure it’s cool that I called? I just realized we hadn’t spoken since I left town, and I thought we could catch up.”
“No, I’m…” She sighs softly. “I’m glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”
In another time and another place, I might’ve offered a cocky remark in response. Something about her thinking about me naked or how all chicks think about me because I’m such a stud. But I’m a bit scared to joke around with Lucy. I don’t know where we stand these days. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to have the kind of friendship we had before.
“I was checking up on you,” she goes on, sounding sheepish.
“Yeah?” I say in surprise.
“Some light online stalking,” she admits with a laugh. “I read that you’re lighting up the defense in preseason. It sounds like it’s going really well down there.”
“It’s all right.” I shift the phone to my other ear and lie back on my elbows, staring up at the speckled ceiling of my bedroom. I’m sharing a good-sized apartment with Carter and another receiver. Technically, it’s considered a dorm since it’s on campus, but these units are all unofficially reserved for football players. “Honestly, this school is a bit whack.”
She laughs again. Man, I’ve missed that sound. I’ve missed my friend. “How so?”
“Football is crazy down here, even more so than at Western. We’ve got boosters popping into the locker room to chat with the players, like they’re some VIPs who deserve private tours and face-to-faces with. The facilities are amazing, but the people are so damn weird.”
“How so?” she asks again.
I hesitate.
“JR?”
After a second, I let out a breath. “It involves a chick,” I confess. “You cool talking about that?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She pauses, and then her voice softens. “We’re still friends, Ace. Don’t get me wrong—you screwed up royally. I might’ve even wanted to punch you in the face at one point—”
Shame spirals through me.
“—but you know I can’t stay mad at you.” I can totally picture the rueful shrug she’s offering me. “We have history. We grew up together. We’re friends.”
She’s so matter-of-fact. That’s what I’ve always appreciated about this girl. She’s one of the few people who’s never been afraid to tell it to me like it is.
“So let’s hear about this girl,” she finishes, her tone teasing.
I heave another breath. “Okay, so I met her at one of the campus bars last night. We chat, flirt, all that jazz. She tells me to take her home. I say yes—obviously.”