NESSA

Our three-bedroom apartment was around the corner from Julian and Grayson's house, and even though it lacked some basic amenities like a microwave and a fridge that actually kept food cold, it was definitely a step up from living in Ackley Hall. I could see the sunset over the bay from my room, and our living room was the perfect size to pregame for OSU football games. Which was exactly what we were doing now.

"Hey!" Madie's cheery voice carried over the room, greeting Collins as she walked in the door with her backpack and a bag of groceries. "We're having a few drinks before heading over the game. Wanna join?"

Madie held up one of the bottles of beer that Beau had bought, but Collins just smiled and shook her head as she began to put away her cereal and peanut butter. "I'm not really into football, but thanks for the invitation."

Bren chuckled from his spot in the middle of the couch. "We aren't either."

Three heads turned slowly to look at me, and I felt the heat burst onto my face.

"None of you have to come with me."

"Of course we're going to come with you." Madie shot a pointed look at Bren before turning back to me. "You look very cute in that jersey, by the way."

I looked down at the huge numbers on my chest, obsessively smoothing the jersey down. It fell over my hips, looking more like a dress on me than anything else.

"Thanks," I said on a shaky exhale.

How had we ended up here? The last time I went to a football game, it was to boo OSU off the field. And now all I wanted was for them to have a massive win on their first home game of the season. And I wanted Grayson to get safely through the night. I needed him to.

I'd quickly come to understand why Lillian and Grace barely came to his games. I felt like I would throw up, and I hadn't even made it into the stadium yet.

A hand appeared on my arm, giving it a squeeze. "It's gonna be okay, Nes."

Bren.

Another hand grabbed onto mine. This one was smaller, more slender, and soft. "It's going to be more than okay. It's going to be great!"

Madie.

I swallowed past whatever was suddenly lodged in my throat. "Thanks, guys."

Forcing myself to lift my gaze from the spot of carpet I'd been staring at, I found Beau watching us quietly. He gave a small encouraging smile when our eyes connected. He hadn't said a word in at least five minutes. I frowned at him, and he glanced away. To Collins.

"Well, I hope you all have fun," she said, closing the cupboard doors and waving us off before walking to her bedroom down the short hallway off the kitchen.

Collins Bryant was quite possibly the best roommate to ever exist. She was kind, clean, and quiet. And she was hella responsible, which made sense given her job experience. An entire spreadsheet—she made an entire spreadsheet with our monthly bills and happily took over the coordination of making sure everything was paid on time. And that was after she shut Beau down on his idea to just pay for it all himself.

There was only one problem with her living here. And it was that Beau was acting strange.

WhatdoyoumeanyouwantCollinstolivehere?

That was how he'd reacted when I'd approached him with the idea to offer our third room to Collins. Just one long stream of words all smushed together in one puff of air.

"I mean, we need another roommate, and she's looking for somewhere to stay," I'd said, basically repeating what I said the first time.

"Yeah, cool, okay. That's cool. That's very cool. That's—"

"If you're not comfortable with the idea, we can forget it."

He'd looked so shocked that I'd even suggest he was uncomfortable that I nearly burst into laughter.

"Who—who says I'm not comfortable around Collins?" he'd spit out after stuttering at the beginning of his sentence.

"You did. When you just repeated cool three times in the same breath."

Beau had leaned awkwardly against the bleachers in the football stadium where we were sitting, watching Grayson's practice. "I don't know what you're talking about. Cool is the opposite of uncomfortable."

Skepticism was the only thing in my gaze when I'd stared him down.

"Beau..."

"Wednesday..."

In the end, he'd won the staring contest, and I let it go. Bren tried to talk to him next, but he wouldn't hear it. Ask her, he'd said. It's cool, he'd repeated.

There was not one bit of Beau that had been acting cool since she moved in, though. And tonight was no exception. Everything about his demeanor was off, and I stared at him until I caught his eye.

"What is your deal?" I hissed.

"What do you mean? I didn't even say a word," he hissed back.

"I know. That's the point!"

Beau rolled his eyes and shook his head simultaneously.

"We should get going," Bren cut in, pushing up from the couch.

Checking the time, I realized he was right.

And right on cue, nerves exploded in my stomach once again.

****

We had front-row seats. I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

There was absolutely no missing Grayson. There was absolutely no missing his strut or his ass in those tight pants. Could they even be called pants? They were all shiny, like something that work-out instructors would have worn in the late eighties. But they looked way better on him. They looked far too good, and I had to remind myself that I wasn't here to stare at my boyfriend's ass.

No, I was here to bite my nails into oblivion.

Grayson had not made good on his compromise. Every time I looked up from chewing on my nails, he was back on the field. And while he was looking pretty, he was also doing a lot of other things. Like running. And catching balls. And getting tackled hard enough that I lost my breath more than a couple of times.

But then he'd pop back up like nothing had happened.

Maybe it was nothing, but to me, it was like tiny brushes with a heart attack.

I was starting to regret reading all of that medical information. In some ways, it had soothed my concerns. But right now, standing on the edge of this bright-lighted football field, all of the risks and warnings were running like a teleprompter over my vision.

"Damn, he is good."

Madie sounded impressed, and I wondered what basis she even had to go off of until remembering that she had dated a football player, too.

I thought he was pretty good, too. But what did I know? I just loved his stubborn ass.

In the end, they won. The stadium erupted when Grayson caught a winning touchdown pass in the last minute of the fourth quarter, and I screamed, watching as his teammates swarmed him. In a blue wave, some students began to flood the field, too.

"You should go down there!"

One of my friends, I wasn't sure which one, gave me a shove.

My feet wouldn't move, though. Neither would my eyes. They were stuck on Grayson, who was now walking across the field toward the sidelines. His head was raised, and I knew he was scanning the crowd. I knew he was looking for me.

He stopped when our eyes met and whipped off his helmet.

God, that face. That hair, sweaty and plastered to his forehead. That steely gaze. His arm, ridiculously muscled as he raised it up to rake a hand through his hair.

I loved him so much.

"Go, Nessa!" someone hissed, and this time I knew it was Madie.

Grayson smiled as if he knew exactly what was going on. Lifting a hand, he pointed one finger at me and then curled it, beckoning me. Come here, he mouthed.

It was like he gave my feet permission to move, and I began pushing through an entire row of drunk college kids to get to the stairs leading to the field. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I ran across the turf, weaving through other players making their way toward the locker room. And then, finally, finally, I crashed into Grayson's arms. He lifted me up, and my feet left the ground.

The words there she is were pressed into my hair.

He set me down again, but it still felt like I was floating. Had I ever really come down from the high I felt that night he told me he loved me? No, I really didn't think I had. Dating Grayson was like living through the beat drop of a song over and over again. A rush of dopamine every time he smiled at me.

"Hey, handsome." I reached up to brush a hair off his sweaty and hot face. "Good game."

"Good game, huh?" His wolfish grin cocked to the side. "You said that pretty confidently for someone who knows nothing about football."

"I might not know anything about football, but I do have basic number sense. And your score is higher than their score. So objectively speaking...."

"Objectively speaking, it was a good game," Grayson said. "Subjectively speaking, it was an amazing game."

"What made it amazing?"

"You."

His grin widened as he looked me up and down.

"This look is really doing it for me."

"Yeah, you like the jersey?"

He nodded, smile turning wicked. "I'll like it even more when it's the only thing you have on later."

Almost a year later, and Grayson still could make me blush with a single line. Taking a step closer, he cupped my face, dropping his voice as he spoke.

"I'm going to kiss you now. I'm going to kiss you on this field in front of far too many people."

"Okay," I whispered.

And then he kissed me. His lips explored mine like he had practiced this. Even though that was silly because how could you practice a kiss? But that was what it felt like; it felt like this was the kiss Grayson imagined when he first saw me. Like he'd been waiting for months for this exact moment. This exact kiss.

He parted my lips purposefully, leaning into the open-mouthed plunder of his tongue in my mouth. A sound escaped my throat, and I felt Grayson chuckle. Cocky ass. Annoying, cocky ass.

"You taste like whiskey," he murmured, satisfaction in his voice as he licked along my bottom lip.

"Is that bad?"

He shook his head and proved the point by reapplying his efforts to taste every bit of me.

Everything blurred into nothing. The catcalls from the stands, the sound of Julian giving a loud whoop, the anxiety in the pit of my stomach—it all vanished.

Being with him was like floating. And I didn't want to come down.

"I have to hit the showers, Adler," he finally said, reluctantly breaking from my mouth.

"Yeah." I brushed my lips lightly over his. I loved how soft they were. "You kinda stink."

He laughed. "I know. There's a team party at my house later. Do you want to come?"

"No, it's okay. You can celebrate with your team."

Grayson didn't like that answer. It was clear from the quick, inward pull of his eyebrows. "Let me rephrase my question. Do you want to come to the party or do you want me to come over to your place? I want to be with you tonight."

"Oh." A flurry of something erupted in my stomach. "Then sure. I'll come."

He smacked a kiss onto my forehead and then pulled away, taking a few slow steps toward the locker room.

"I'll see you there then. Tell Bren, Beau, and Madie they're invited, too."

"Sounds good."

It did sound good. It was good. The party was good. Everything was good. The following week, a new semester started, and even that was good.

Actually, I had high hopes that the semester might even be great. Because once again, I had a class with Grayson. Except for this time he had no idea about it.

It was Wednesday afternoon when I showed up in the performing arts center to surprise him before our first composition class. He was in an empty classroom, playing the piano. Before I left the apartment, he'd texted me that was where he was, complaining that all the practice rooms where taken.

I heard him immediately, of course. I'd learned that Grayson has a specific style, a specific brand to his music. I liked that about him. He was unique in ways I never would have guessed when I'd first met him.

The music stopped when I opened the door and stepped into the classroom.

"Adler?"

I smiled. And then I locked the door behind me.

💗

A few readers have wondered how many chapters are left in ATWO. The answer is only about five!
But the good news is that another story is coming soon.
Beau's book, We Fall Like Ashes, is now available on
my profile!