GRAYSON

I would be the first to admit that I was blessed with some natural talent in life.

But that didn't mean I became a leading wide receiver and multi-instrumental musician without a bit of drive. Alright, a lot of drive. When I wanted something, I went after it.

And I wanted Nessa Elez.

It was hard to pinpoint precisely why. Maybe it was because she somehow made that ugly hat look cute. Or maybe it was because she was so easy to read despite trying adorably hard to be a closed book. It might have had something to do with how she dared to sit in our stands and cheer against us during the championship game. Who knew? I didn't, but I also didn't really need to.

I just needed to know what the hell to do about it.

Because even though I wanted to chase—like sprint—after this girl, I wasn't a dumbass. Nessa had no interest in giving me the time of day, and clearly, taking the bold approach wasn't working. If I walked up to her a third time, she'd probably just pack up and transfer schools. That was how much she didn't want to talk to me.

But shit. Nessa was everywhere.

In the student union. The dorm commons. Outside her dorm room, because as it turned out, we lived only five doors down from each other. The athletic center. The jam-packed corridors outside lecture halls.

And every time that I saw her, all I wanted was to walk up to her. Say hi. Like we were friends.

We weren't friends.

In fact, we might have been the opposite of friends. Because when I'd approached her in the student union last week, she looked at me like I was a Montague bursting into her Capulet tower.

So when I saw Nessa at a party the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving break, I didn't dare approach her. Didn't dare smile, wave, or acknowledge her presence. And it was too bad I didn't also have the self-control to not even dare to look at her. Because goddamn.

She liked layers. I'd noticed that. Skirts with tights and sweaters thrown haphazardly over collared shirts. On lazier days, it was graphic tees under oversized cardigans and jeans with holes.

But tonight Nessa wore a tight skirt with heeled boots and a shirt hanging off one shoulder, leaving it bare besides the exposed strap of a lacy bra. And the whole combination was just...goddamn.

She stood beside Beau, the chill-ass Asian dude who seemed perpetually unbothered and unapologetically happy in an almost weird sort of way. Happiness wasn't really the name of the game on college campuses, even with naive freshman who were all pressing snooze through their reality check wake-up call. But Beau's mood was infectious.

He was the life of the party—literally. This place would be dead without him. He'd brought the speakers, the booze, the playlist. Everything. I wanted to know how the hell he even knew Julian.

This was Jules' crappy house, and he only associated with other football players and his dealer. The guy wasn't pretentious, though; Julian Briggs was just a lazy shithead who never went anywhere.

But now Julian and Beau were standing in the cramped living room with their arms around each other's shoulders, slinging back beers like the world was ending and it was their last chance to drink alcohol. They laughed together liked they'd been friends since the third grade. And Nessa watched them, a sly smile on her face, barely hidden by a red Solo cup.

I turned around, shoving down the annoying jealousy that Julian had Nessa's attention.

Well, and Beau. But that didn't bother me. When it came to Nessa, he threw out big bro vibes, narrowing his eyes at any guy that leered a little too creepily at his friend.

Ah, fuck. I might be one of the creeps. Although, Beau hadn't glared at me. Yet.

I slammed my own beer bottle down on the kitchen counter, sighing overdramatically. It would be my one and only drink for the night, and it was already lukewarm, making me want to ditch it.

I took one more sip for good measure before promptly spewing it all out into the sink when a hand thumped on my back.

"Shots, Gray!" Julian's voice slurred in my ear.

Spinning to face him, I found his bloodshot eyes only inches from mine. They nearly matched his ginger hair, blazing through the dim kitchen lighting and glowing in comparison to his pale, lightly freckled skin.

"Dude," I said, "your breath reeks."

And that was an understatement. I tried to take a step back, but Jules had trapped me in the corner.

"Shots, Everett. Now."

"You might be my captain, but we're officially on break, and you can't order me to drink. Just do laps."

The only place Julian Briggs wasn't a lazy ass was the football field. He didn't fit the mold of a D1 football captain, but he was a damn good player, a damn good friend, and a damn good motivator. And right now, he was using his skills of persuasion to get me to take shots, pressing salted-rimmed glasses of tequila into my hand.

"Just one, man," he whined.

"How about just none," I said, ditching the shot glass on the countertop before ducking past Jules.

Julian shouted something after me, but I didn't catch what it was. As soon as I'd slipped away from the sweaty, drunk junior, all my senses were preoccupied with a dark-haired beauty—a girl I'd slammed against the kitchen island in my attempt to escape taking shots.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nessa snapped, staring down at the spilled contents of her drink, which had splashed over the old laminate countertop. "I just came in here and refilled that."

"Shit, I'm sorry," I mumbled before attempting to make an impossible retreat. The kitchen was jam-packed with partiers, and I found myself stuck with Nessa's body pressed right up against mine. So maybe I was not actually sorry about it.

Nessa leaned back, resting one palm on the island behind her. She was doing it to try to distance herself from me, that much was clear, but the result was her hips lifting to brush against my crotch.

Fuck, this wasn't going to end well for me.

"Is that all you football players know how to do?"

"Huh?"

Nessa scoffed and took a sip of whatever was left in her drink. "Tackle people," she said, rolling her eyes.

I laughed. "I'm a wide receiver."

Her face scrunched up. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"It means I don't really tackle—"

"I SAID SHOTS, EVERETT."

"And I said no, Julian! Shut the fuck up, man," I yelled, briefly taking my gaze off Nessa to catch Jules pounding tequila out of the corner of my eye.

"Well, isn't that a lovely way to talk to your friends? And the host," Nessa drawled, pulling my attention back to her.

Her lashes flicked upward as I looked over at her, and big, brown eyes landed on my face as she sipped from her cup again. I wondered how drunk she was or if she was even drunk at all. She must be. I mean, she was talking to me without running away.

Well, she was mocking me. Talking to me, but mocking me.

Eh, I'd take it.

"Nessa, you have a very low opinion of me, don't you?" I couldn't help but ask.

That seemed to surprise her. She straightened a bit, and I relaxed from the bit of distance awarded between my dick and Nessa Elez's body.

She sniffed. "I don't even know you, Grayson. How could I have formed an opinion of you?"

God, it shouldn't have made me this happy that she'd remembered who I was this time. But I played it off, shrugging. "I've been asking myself the same question."

Nessa narrowed her eyes in response, assessing me for...hell, I didn't know what. But her gaze was critical as fuck.

I had to break eye contact, though. I had to because it was already sweltering in Julian's house, and the intensity of how she looked me over was causing me to sweat even more. So I glanced over her shoulder instead, pausing when I noticed a dude in a Grateful Dead shirt leaning against the refrigerator.

His eyes were glued to us.

When he noticed me looking, he quickly took an interest in his bottle of beer.

"Shit."

The low swear came from Nessa, and I lowered my gaze to her again. She held her phone in both hands, her plastic cup clenched between her front teeth.

I reached out, grabbing it from her so it didn't spill. More.

Nessa allowed me to take the drink without looking up from her phone, too busy texting furiously. When she was done, she sighed before pushing the phone back into her pocket. She glanced up at me.

"Thanks," she muttered, and for some reason, a light blush tinged her cheeks. She reached for her drink.

Something possessed me to pull the cup back at the last moment, keeping it out of her reach. Nessa frowned, but it was kind of adorable. Like a pout.

"What are you drinking?" I asked, tilting my head as I looked down at her. Hell, I just wanted to keep the conversation going.

She blinked quickly three times in a row, her mouth opening without sound.

Who knew why the cat had suddenly gotten Nessa's sharp tongue, but I raised a brow at her silence. Slowly, I took a sip from her drink, refusing to release those brown eyes while I did. They widened and then narrowed in response as I let the woody, smokey taste hit my tongue and burn my throat.

"A whiskey girl?" I asked softly, lowering the drink as leisurely as I'd raised it.

She swallowed before snatching the cup back from me. "Are you surprised?"

I snorted. "No."

Nessa paused, watching me from behind the security of her drink. Her tongue flicked out, catching a droplet of whiskey coke before it fell off the plastic rim.

And I stared. Probably too intensely, but I couldn't help it.

It felt like I'd taken a million tequila shots with Julian. That was how Nessa made my head spin.

Clearing her throat, Nessa snapped out of it and reached into her pocket to grab her phone again. She unlocked it and rolled her eyes. "I have to go make a call," she mumbled before glancing around, searching the room with a frown. "If you see Beau, tell him I stepped outside."

I nodded. "Alright."

Nessa squeezed past me, and I fell back into the corner where I'd started. A hand clapped onto my shoulder. I knew it was Jules without even looking. I was too busy watching Nessa walk away, slipping through the jam of people until she reached the back door.

I was about to turn around and face the music that was Julian Briggs when the dude with the Grateful Dead shirt caught my eye.

He was following Nessa out the door.

💗

hey! happy friday!

thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who gave me name input on our new character on my Instagram! @nova-xx threw out the name Julian, and it just stuck! But thanks for voting and sending me some 🔥 name options! now I have lots in my back pocket for later.

Oh, and any predictions?

xoxo