Chapter 3: First Meet Foul: Chapter 3

Nothing caused my body to hum alive more than competition. It wasn’t just on the field, either. My favorite professor, Mrs. Gravestone, had mentioned the opportunity for a few students to have a kick-ass internship next summer to those who earned it, and it had become my sole identity.

I loved marketing and how words and images could cause reactions in people. Soccer had never been my end goal. It was my entire life, and I loved it, but I didn’t have the same dreams like some girls on the team who dreamed to play for the US Women’s team or even the Olympics. Me? I wanted to join a marketing firm. Would I work for the US Women’s team? Without question, but my passion was with words and creative ways to get people thinking.

In order to show my professor I was the right choice for the internship, I had to pick a solid project, and she’d already turned down my initial two ideas. They were too basic.

There was also the fun little element that Eric was in the same class as me, who also wanted the internship, so in my mind, getting it over him meant I won the breakup. Silly but not untrue. I sighed, rubbing my temples as I stared at the requirements for our semester-long project.

Mack slid her Gardettos across the library table, a large pile of the brown ones staring at me. “For you, Lolo. You have your stress sounds.”

“Angel.” I grabbed five of the beautiful salty snacks and crunched into them. “The spice combination is lethal. Like, how can something be this addictive?”

“Magic.” She laughed and adjusted the end of her French braid. My former roommate, best friend, and teammate pulled out another bag of my favorite food from her purse.

That had me on edge. She brought gifts when she had bad news. Like the time she’d cancelled our friend trip to Lake Michigan because her boyfriend surprised her in town or the weekend she baked me cupcakes when she lost my favorite pair of earrings. Mack with snacks equated to bad news.

My muscles tensed, preparing for the worst.

“What’s going on? Are you breaking up with me?” I forced a laugh, refusing to let the absolute flurry of butterflies in my stomach take over. “Mackenzie Marie, tell me right now.”

She swallowed and placed the flats of her hands on the table. “I found somewhere to live, but its only for one person, and I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t find a place with two, and I hate this so much.”

“Oh.” I exhaled, replaying her jumbled words over. “That’s… hey, don’t feel bad. My brother said I could probably stay with him.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “You don’t hate me? We planned on living together junior year for years. It was gonna be me and you, girl, partying and having fun and decorating after our vision boards.”

“Not even a little bit.” I squeezed her hand. “I mean, if my brother doesn’t let me crash with him, I might use your couch or something, but I’m hoping his ingrained guilt forces him to let me live there.”

“Couch, floor, anything you want.” Her teeth came down over her bottom lip as her attention moved toward the entrance of the library. “Great.”

“Hm?” I craned my neck and knew the object of her sarcastic comment. The football players. Dean told me how strict their coach was about study tables and ensuring their team GPA was stellar. I loved how most of the guys took studies and football seriously. With all the injuries, it never made sense to bank on just athletic ability. Hell, look at Gage, the reason I might have a room to stay in.

But Mack’s annoyance made sense. Whenever any football or hockey player went anywhere on campus, they were recognized. They might’ve had good intentions to study, use the library for any solid reason, but they caused a scene each and every time. A part of me thought they did it on purpose, to get fawned over and flirted with. It’d be a nice ego boost. Dean loved attention. Even as a kid, he ate it up, so being a quarterback was the natural move for him.

“We can move to a table farther back?” I spoke to her but kept my attention on the guys. Dean, Callum, Oliver, and Luca didn’t just walk, they strutted. My brother’s teammates and friends were decent guys. Sure, most of them partied hard, but they were kind in their shenanigans. If you wanted a good time, they were the guys to hang with but never more than that—a temporary night of fun. Not that I had any interest in that. I was done with athletes. Forever.

“No, it’s fine.” She rubbed her lips together and twirled a blonde curl that escaped her braid. Her cheeks reddened, and I was about to ask her why she had that blush creeping up her face, but Dean walked in our direction.

My pulse raced, my stomach getting a different kind of butterfly explosion—hope. Please let me live with you. Please. Please. I’d texted him last night asking when I could move in, but he’d responded with we’re discussing it.

Discussing what? My possible homelessness? Had it been a fun dinner topic with the bros?

He hadn’t texted me again, which was fine, but I needed an answer soon or I had to come up with another plan of desperation. I could…check online for places off campus. Yeah, I could do that. It would suck because I didn’t have a car, but it wouldn’t be impossible.

His face, similar yet different than mine, seemed neutral. No smile, nor hint of anger. Just, blank. His game face.

I hated that I couldn’t read my own twin. It wasn’t like the movies where we could send messages through our minds. If anything, us being twins made us too similar to communicate sometimes. I crossed one leg over the other, then sat straighter. No matter what he said, I’d take his answer with pride and dignity. Then, I’d call our mom and cry.

“Hello, Dean.” I smiled, looking totally chill and not like I was freaking out inside. I pushed my hair behind my ears, some curls getting stuck on the large hoop earrings I wore. “How are you? Well? I’m jazzy for a Tuesday.”

“Stop being weird.” He snorted and stared at Mack for a second, then back to me. My teammate did not acknowledge him.

“Me? Weird? Never.” My voice rose an octave, and I felt more than witnessed his teammates staring at me. My skin tingled from the attention. My brother liked being in the spotlight, but me? Nah. Only when I was on the field and in my jersey. The uniform was armor of sorts, protecting me.

“Look.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You can live with us, but there are con—”

“Yes! Ohmygod.” I jumped from the chair, throwing my arms in the air and spinning in a circle. “I could cry. I won’t, but I could!” I did a jig dance before flying at my brother in a hug. He caught me with a grunt. “Thank you, Dean!”

“Okay, chill.” He patted my back awkwardly and gently shoved me away. “There are concerns we need to talk about.”

“Of course, yes, I totally understand! Anything! Need me to promise an oath? Get something notarized? I’ll do it.” My smile stretched across my face, the gesture so large that my cheeks hurt. “You’re saving my life, you know. I acted super chill about it, but I was a mess inside. A hot mess express.”

He rolled his eyes, his own mouth curving up on the side. “So dramatic.”

“Normal dramatic,” I corrected.

He held out a fist, and I bumped it before he stepped back. I hadn’t been kidding about almost wanting to cry. With the news that Mack had found a place already and this huge project my professor needed from me, my nerves were fried. Having a home until the holidays eased my worry. I took a breath and made sure to meet Oliver, Callum, and Luca’s eyes. “Thank you, all of you. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I promise you won’t even notice I’m there.”

“Dean said you could cook.” Callum arched a brow. “Feels like this is an easy thing to negotiate. If we let you move in, you feed us.”

“I can cook for you,” I blurted out. “Not on game nights but other nights, yes. I mean, I probably can’t buy all the food—”

“She’s not feeding us. We have a rotation.”

Everyone stared at Luca, his aggressive tone out of place for this conversation. I swallowed and played with the string from my sweatshirt. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me, the world, or chefs. His usual grumpiness seemed more somehow. Luca’s brown eyes narrowed at Dean, then he flicked his gaze to me for one second.

So much emotion swirled behind his eyes, but none of it felt kind.

“We’ll put her in the rotation then, that’s fair.” Oliver smiled at me, easing the tension growing inside my chest. His hair was in a bun and had an orange tie around it. Cute.

“Luca created a schedule where we cook one night a week. Game days don’t count obviously, but I can add you to the schedule.” Dean tapped the edge of the table twice. “I’ll leave you and Mackenzie alone. We came here to study, but I figured I’d tell you the news since I saw you.”

“How long were you gonna make me sweat?” I asked, a little annoyed he hadn’t texted me this last night. “Did you decide five seconds ago?”

“Take the win, Lo.” Dean’s tone grew louder, irritation lacing it. “The room is available now, so just let me know when you’re coming.”

“This Saturday work?”

He nodded, and with that, he headed toward the back of the library. Oliver and Callum grinned at us. Callum saluted me with two fingers, and I repeated the motion back. Luca though…he’d already walked away without so much as a look. The nerves in my stomach sank to my feet.

“I cannot believe you’re living with them.” Mack stared at me wide-eyed. “Luca might actually hate you.”

“So, I’m not making this gross sensation up?” I rubbed my chest, picking up one of the strings and chewing the tip. “I don’t know what I did, but every time I’ve talked to him, I feel so small and bad, like I did something.”

“Yeah, I felt secondhand daggers from him.” She shivered. “I’m glad your brother didn’t tell you to piss off. Mine would have for sure.”

Mack’s brother, Jonathon, was a piece of work. Dean might be a playboy and like being the center of attention, but he was kind. Not all siblings were like that, I’d learned, and that kinda sucked. He was my friend and twin, and him not being in my life seemed so strange. I scrunched my nose in a shrug. “Yeah, Dean is better than Jon in that sense.”

“How are you gonna survive this, Lo? They party at that house.”

“Yes, but only on weekends. Dean is strict about that.” I didn’t mind a party or two. Plus, it wasn’t like they’d want me going. I’d hide in my room. Listen to music or watch a movie, or hell, I’d stay at the library. “I can handle the parties, and maybe I can even partake in some fun in this post-Eric world.”

She nodded. “And Callum and Oliver’s…flirtations?”

“Are you blushing, my best friend?” I laughed and leaned onto my elbows. “Oh my god you are.”

“I’m… okay, yes. Callum… hell, even your brother makes me blush. They are hot. I don’t know if it’s the jersey or the swagger or Dean’s face, but it makes me stumble on my words.”

I cringed. “You have a thing for Dean? We’ve been friends for three years and you’re mentioning this now?”

“Not a thing. Not a thing at all. No, no. I like my guys quiet and soft and gentle.” She blinked a lot and lowered her voice. “You know how you get flustered around firefighters?”

“Okay, don’t throw my weakness in my face. I can’t help it! It’s the uniform, the sexiness, the strength. I—”

“It’s the same for me, but mine is football players.” She blew out a breath, shook her head and stared off into the distance. “Trust me, I would never… consider one in that way. I just get nervous and stutter and think they’re hot.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not the one moving in, Mackenzie Marie.” I snorted. “You’d just be a walking horndog living with them.”

She laughed, and her blush crept down her neck. “I really, really would.”

“Good thing I don’t find them attractive at all.” The lie wasn’t untrue for the most part. Guys like Oliver and Callum were like Dean, flirty and charming. It was the players like Luca who got under my skin. But there was no reason to talk that out or bring my unwarranted attraction to him up. I had a living space now, and my goal was to stay as far away from him as I could. Athletes were on my never list, and I had too much to worry about other than my love life. Eric’s abrupt dismissal of me messed with my confidence and taught me that I couldn’t settle for being someone’s third or fourth priority.

“Now, let’s silence notifications for an hour and see how much we can get done, hm?” I turned off all alerts on my laptop. “Then, we can go run.”

“How am I supposed to move my shit if my teammates can’t come with me?” I asked my idiot brother, hands on my hips and my hair going every possible direction. Instead of running in the cool morning weather, I was moving into the football house. The place that had parties on weekends, but I wasn’t allowed to let my teammates help me move.

“This is dumb,” I yelled, annoyed already. “Are you going to help me?”

“Can’t. Gotta head to practice. Coach wants me in to watch film from last night.”

“So, I don’t have a car, and I can’t call my friends, so I have to carry all my shit, by myself, a mile to get here.”

Dean winced, running a hand through his hair, and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fucking not. Is this revenge of some sort?”

He glanced at his watch and muttered a curse. “I gotta go now, sorry, Lo.”

That was unhelpful.

The gratitude I had earlier in the week melted into annoyance at the hurdles in my way of moving in. I also had a game the next day and needed to prepare for it. Football wasn’t the be-all and end-all, and seriously, why couldn’t I have someone help me?

“Damnit!” I kicked my bag of workout clothes on the porch. I had a key and a brief description of my room.

Top floor, empty room on the right.

Dean was not gaining any points in my book today. None at all.

I hoisted one bag over each shoulder and went inside. It had been awhile since being here. Parties were not my scene, and the smell of lemon surprised me. It was clean? And nice?

Interesting.

A living room was to the left, a hallway straight ahead, and stairs to the right. One staircase went up, and the other went down. The wood floor had seen better days, but there was a rug? That seemed risky. A rug in a college house was just asking for beer to be spilled.

Top floor.

I adjusted the straps of my bag and headed upstairs. Wait, were there three stories? Damn. My brother was a real dick for not helping me. My legs could be sore before the game tomorrow if I had to do all this lifting myself. A dull headache formed as I went up to the third floor, and I sighed. There were two rooms on the left, one on the right, and a bathroom.

Oh snap. I’d forgotten about our shared bathroom. Fine. It’d be fine.

My face heated as I passed the door on the right. The made bed and movie posters on the wall clearly showed it was Callum’s room. That meant one of the other rooms was mine.

Both doors were shut, which… again, unfucking helpful, Dean. My eye twitched as I thought about telling our mom. She’d have words, no doubt, but I never played that card unless I had to. It was getting close though. I figured the room nearest to the end would be mine. It was tucked in the corner and at an angle. I straightened my posture, my back hurting from carrying two large bags, and twisted the handle. “Home, here I come!” I sang to myself.

Two things happened at once.

An angry, loud voice shouted, “What the fuck?”

Then, moaning sounds carried to my ears. Loud, sexy, throaty moans that meant…

My gaze snapped to the large, naked Luca on the bed. He wore nothing. No pants, no shirt. Just, nude. His thick thighs spread out, each one like a tree trunk on the dark blue bedsheets. A laptop sat on the bed next to him, images of two people fucking. Moans came from the device as my heart leapt in my throat. His fingers gripped his dick, moving up and down.

“Get the fuck outta here,” he growled, his tone dangerously low. “Leave. Now.”

My mind and feet didn’t agree, and I blinked, my face white-hot as I backed up too fast. I smacked my head against the doorframe. “Shit. Shit. I saw nothing. Nothing!” I practically cried, my face stinging as the headache was fully formed.

I smacked my hands over my eyes and stumbled over the duffel bag I’d dropped. Oh my god. If I thought Luca hated me before, he would murder me now. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not staring at your dick. Or the porn. Shit, didn’t mean to say that. Just, uh, pause your playtime. I’m—”

Someone lifted me off the ground. Not someone, Luca. It had to be him. But how had he done that if he was busy? I wasn’t sure, but next thing I knew, my ass was in the hallway, my duffel bags next to me, and the door to not my room slammed in my face.

My lungs heaved for breath, the reality of what had happened knocking the wind out of me. I’d just walked in on the guy who hated me as he…masturbated. I needed to melt into the wooden floor and live there forever.

How could I face him when he’d want to kill me? I lay there, cursing Dean and hating this situation all over again. Be grateful you have a place.

Fuck my conscience.

This sucked.

What if he leaves soon and sees you on the ground?

That got my ass in gear. I heaved the bags into the other room across the hall and shut the door fast. There was a bed, a dresser, and a built-in desk, and oof. Not a great move-in day. Not at all.

I unzipped my duffel, hoping to unpack my clothes when Luca’s door opened. I froze, regretting not locking my door and waited. Would he come in here, yell at me? Demand I move out? My throat constricted in worry as the loud footsteps stopped outside my room. Shit.

I held my breath, refusing to make a sound, and after what felt like ten hours passed, the shadows moved on, and Luca thundered down the stairs. I fell onto the bed, sans-sheet, and threw my arm over my face. Why was the memory of him gripping his cock so hot? My face skin prickled at the image ingrained in my memory, his tight, corded muscles moving in his arm, the sweat on his forehead. Not a good start for me. Not even a little bit. I had to make it up to Luca, or I was confident my ass would be on the front porch.