"Shit, this one's a snooze-fest," Monique groaned at the television. "Oh look, they ran for three yards again."

"They're playing a bit... conservative," I mumbled through my possibly fifth serving of carbs.

In addition to my salmon macaroni and cheese and cinnamon apples, Monique had made a loaf of homemade bread, just pure, white-flour and yeast-based, and potatoes bravas, pan-fried potatoes with a spicy tomato sauce.

Carbs aside, I was surprised at Logan's safe, almost stifled style of play. He'd definitely sucked the life out of Arizona's stadium and puzzled the game's announcers. More than once, my and Monique's eyes slid closed and our heads slacked back into her black leather sofa.

"Not as good as Toro Brava but still edible." She forked in another bite of potatoes. "They have the most amazing bacon-wrapped dates, if you ever eat your way down to Portland."

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, sat back, and rubbed both palms over the food belly that made me glad I'd worn yoga pants. "What do you want to do for half-time?"

"We should probably walk," she groaned next to me, then pushed aside her plate. "When are you going to tell me about you two? And you'd better start with that ring around your neck."

"Right." I sighed since I'd arrived here late after my discussion with, or rather at, James. I hadn't left much room for argument, he silently nodded like a scared deer, and I left the library. I'd gotten myself so worked up that I walked from my apartment to Monique and Darrius' place. The uphill walk had burned my calves and hamstrings but the tension relief was much-needed.

Calling Logan a Neanderthal, what a jerk.

"Let's waddle." Monique pushed herself up with both her hands and a loud groan. "I need to work some of these carbs south."

"Actually..." My eyes traveled to her kitchen, where at least half our leftovers sat. "I have an idea. Let's go visit Emmitt."

"Verns?" Monique's eyebrows looked like they couldn't have lifted any higher up her forehead. "Why the hell do you want to go see him?"

"He's by himself. Let's bring him some dinner." My shoulders shrugged.

"Emmitt Verns, team fuckboy." Monique's dark brown eyes stared at me and her full lips parted. She slowly ran her tongue over them while her eyes studied mine. "You know he'll think you're bringing over your vagina, right?"

"Technically I am but he's not getting anywhere near it." I replied with a slight shake of my head. "Their house is what, three blocks away? I want to stop by my place first, pick up his Anatomy notes."

"Four," she corrected me and pulled off some aluminum foil and sealed up the first container of leftovers. "I don't like it but we should dispose of the evidence. Darrius doesn't need any of this, Momma Williams is coming up for the next two home games."

"Really?" My eyes stretched wide at that news. I wasn't surprised that Darrius' very supportive, very vocal mother would be here, but she attended the same weekend as another vocally supportive Mama Bear.

If Darrius needed any further proof of how big his heart was, how he sent his extra football stipend money home to help his mother with her bills melted my heart whenever I thought about it. In a true team effort, Monique instead footed most of their food bills on her student account while they split their rent costs in a city with an extremely high cost of living.

Which is why Charlie and I were supposed to be crammed inside a one-bedroom apartment.

Funny how things have turned out, but I'm glad they did.

And not just because of how hot Logan looks in his gold Husky uniform pants... in high definition TV.

"Mmm-hmm." Monique nodded and sealed up her potatoes with tin foil, then handed me the box. I wrapped up my leftovers and, once she locked the door behind us, we for sure waddled down her apartment's stairs, then the downward hill.

"You know this is gonna burn on the way back," she remarked as our feet clumped on the sloped street.

"It'll give us room for dessert." I winked at her but clutched my containers into my still very full stomach. "Logan, Wes, Charlie, and I were going to visit Emmitt tomorrow but I'm kinda glad we're not going to a full house."

"I got your back," her steady voice assured me. "Although if I rip Emmitt a new one, hold my earrings first."

"Deal." I giggled quietly while we walked down the suburban street, past a mix of older traditional homes and renovated ones, in the northern direction of Greek Row.

During the circular walk back to my apartment, where I picked up the copy of notes, I updated Monique on all things Logan-related. By the time we reached the historic 1930's brick houses along the divided, tree-lined 17th Street, my upper arm was sore from all her hand squeezes and my closest ear to her numb from all her excited squeals.

I'm lucky she's so supportive though.

Emmitt, along with nine other guys from the team, shared one large, two-story house a block over from Greek Row. While they had their own parties, the guys certainly enjoyed their... easy access to the sororities.

Some more than others.

As if she sensed my apprehensive thoughts, Monique's dark brown eyes shifted down towards me. "Why are you being nice to Emmitt? Did you take notes for him in class?"

"I feel sorry for him," I confessed the simple, honest answer. "He got hurt and that sucks."

Her scoff hit my ears before her words. "People get hurt all the time. After what he tried -" she started when I cleared my throat.

"Key word is tried..." My voice faded while my lower lip rolled under and I bit down gently.

While the entire ZTE hazing event disgusted me, my fucked up past of being sexually assaulted probably jaded my opinion but Emmitt definitely hadn't forced himself on me, ever. While I hated the player and the game, I respected his emphasis on consent. Whenever I'd resisted, even with one quick 'No,' he'd never laid a finger on me.

My standards are so fucked up.

"Thanks for coming with me," I said in a quiet voice when a brick front house with a slouched front porch, covered with chipped white paint, came into view.

"Told you..." Her dark brown eyes flashed at me. "If you've got my earrings then I've got your back, Ellie."

"Hopefully you can keep them on." I glanced up at the large gold hoops threaded through her ears, then knocked my fist onto the front door.

"Hey... Ellie? Monique?" I expected the surprise in the pair of brown eyes that greeted us at the front door.

Absent any identification like a fraternity house but internally the whole campus knew this house probably worse at how the rookies who didn't even live here were forced to clean it. A quick glance past Emmitt's large frame at the beer bottles and dirty plates in the living room showed that a cleaning day was definitely needed.

"Hey Emmitt." I ran my eyes downward to the large walking boot on his right ankle. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better now." A smirk pulled across his face and his eyes glinted at me.

"You can walk and... do other things." Monique also glanced down at his boot. "No crutches?"

"No crutches, Monique," Emmitt replied dryly, then stepped sideways to let us in. "Come in, ladies."

"Just wanted to bring you this." I held up my tin foil-covered food container and stack of notes papers on them. I gave him no chance to respond with what I knew was an inappropriate innuendo and wrinkled my nose at the all-guy stink that filled my nose once I stepped inside the house.

Smells like beer, body odor, testosterone, and procrastination.

"Gross," Monique whispered and clutched her elbows into her stomach. "Darrius' used jock strap doesn't even smell this bad."

The fairly basic living room, with honey-toned wood paneling and a carpet whose original color was pretty unidentifiable, was crammed with three couches. The sofas, which were littered with dirty plates that suggested pizza had been last eaten on them, faced a large TV with some military ops shooter game paused. I threw out a forced smile at their living conditions while I stepped over and weaved around couches towards the kitchen and tried not to actually touch any surface in my path.

"You're not watching the game?" I asked Emmitt, who hobbled a few steps behind me and Monique.

"Nah." He nodded at a plate of crumbs on one of the sofas. With all the crumbs, stains, and dirt, it looked like they'd never even heard of a vacuum cleaner and I had no idea how any of the guys actually sat on the floor.

I swear, if we find a used condom then I'll puke.

What I hadn't expected was the kind, almost wistful smile on Emmitt's face when I pushed a path through empty beer cans and put the meal containers onto the kitchen counters. After I grabbed the notes' papers in my hands, I stepped off the sticky floor back into the living room's carpet.

"You meant what you texted me." His tall, broad frame leaned against the refrigerator with an air of confidence that wasn't reflected in his eye gaze at me. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied dryly. "It's just leftovers."

"And these?" His eyes dropped down to the stack of papers I shoved into his chest.

"Human Anatomy notes for the lectures that you missed."

My answer caught Monique's eyes, but she just stood silently with them glued on Emmitt like no part of her trusted him. I appreciated her support but in his state, Emmitt barely even walked so he was absolutely no threat. If anything, with the gray circles under his eyes and crease lines between his eyebrows, he looked exhausted.

"Ellie..." One of his hands closed over mine, but I yanked mine back at the contact. "You didn't have to help me in class."

"I felt sorry for you," I replied in a flat voice. "And we don't need your sorry ass dragging down our group project grade, so you'd better be there next week."

"Thanks, appreciate this." His chin dipped down while he glanced over the papers, then set them down on the counter behind him. "I was in serious pain and couldn't move after the surgery, plus walking across campus on crutches was a pain in the ass."

"I'm sure they would've arranged a driver escort," I snorted at the possibility that he was golf-carted to his classes. UW was definitely a walking campus though and block after block on crutches sounded horrible.

"They did." Emmitt ran one hand through his messy dark hair, then shook his head. "Didn't want that attention."

The strain in his voice softened the edge on mine, "I'm really sorry Emmitt. I hope it's not permanent."

For a second, a flash of uncertainty passed through his eyes, which tugged a thread of sympathy in my heart. Because of Jake, I understood fully the risks the players took plus the uncertainty, the stress injuries brought about, and how dreams vanished within an eye blink. What I also understood was the cruelty that the flash mob of 'supporters' that turned away once a star player had gotten injured and hadn't wanted him to think he'd been completely forgotten about.

"Thanks for the food." He took a hobbled step towards me, his signature predatory look in his eyes now on full display. "Didn't know you cared, Ellie."

"Only as a... friend," I replied and side-stepped into the living room. "You got hurt plus I imagine the last thing you want to do is cook. Again, it's just leftover mac-n-cheese."

"Friend," he echoed the word in a tone that sounded like he'd never heard of it. Right when I walked towards the front door, one of his hands tugged on my shoulder. "Wait, Ellie. Can I talk to you? Just you."

"Whatever you say to her, you can say to me," Monique frowned at him and stepped closer.

"Back off, Monique." His broad chest and shoulders lifted as he sighed. "Just a conversation. Spy on us through the windows if you want."

Monique looked at me with skepticism in her eyes and pursed lips, but I just nodded.

Sooner we leave, the better.

She just rolled her eyes, then replied, "I'll be waiting right by the door. With eyes on you, Verns."

"Wouldn't expect less," he grumbled in a tone that sounded anything but amused, then shifted his gaze to me once the front door clicked shut. My lips rolled inward when Monique's tall, thin frame appeared in the living room windows, where she cupped her hands around her eyes and pierced invisible daggers straight at Emmitt.

"Always an escort, huh?" He snorted softly.

"What," I gritted out, but turned away from the window and faced him. He couldn't have surprised me more when his arms tucked tightly around me and dragged me into his chest, where I grunted out, "Oof. What the hell, Emmitt?"

After a few awkward back pats of my palms into his lower back, I pulled back. For once the player persona dissolved for a moment, his smirk faded into an almost wistful smile, and his eyes looked down at me without any playfulness or ulterior motive. "Thank you."

With a firm nod and very much needed space between us, I replied, "You're welcome. Just make sure your ass is in class, Emmitt."

His head cocked slightly sideways, a sparkle popped in his eyes. "You sure there's nothing else you want from me tonight?"

Ugh, him too. How can these guys just not have a friend who's a girl? Why does there always have to be an ulterior motive?

"Not from you. We're just casual friends. Believe me, you're lucky I feel that much," I reminded him and walked towards the front door.

"Wait, Ellie." He grabbed my hand right as I reached for the door. "I... need to explain something to you."

"Emmitt -" I started when he silenced me with a sharp squeeze of my hand.

"No, Ellie you don't get it." His eyes darkened and the corners of his mouth turned downward. "The Zeta house thing, I -"

"I said all I wanted to about that night." I ripped my hand back and pushed down the anger that swelled inside me with the resurfaced memories from that spring semester mistake. My knees twitched as I remembered the cold concrete basement floor under them, my lower lip trembled in the dark, and my skin broke out in goosebumps once I was 'chosen.'

With one flash of my eyes up at his, I stated the obvious, "You're still disgusting, good bye Emmitt."

"Ellie, I wouldn't have slept with you," he blurted out, then rubbed one hand on the back of his neck like he hadn't expected that admission to slip out. "Or done anything else, I swear."

"What?" My forehead tensed into a frown while I studied his expression for any hint that he lied, but saw none. While he gained nothing from that honest admission, with Emmitt there was always an angle.

One of his hands rubbed over the back of his neck, but his gaze held mine. When he finally spoke, he sounded completely remorseful, "I... haven't been with any of those girls. Especially you, Ellie. I'd never... I meant it when I said I'd get you out of it."

What the hell is he implying? It's just a faked setup?

My lips parted in a silent gasp. "Wait, so it's just a front? Like a lie to pledges? The guys don't get blowjobs from or sleep with the girls?"

While part of me felt relieved, the lying, manipulative setup was horrible from the 'sisterhood' perspective we'd had thrown in our face the rest of the pledge process. The impassive expression Emmitt wore on his face felt like salt thrown into my emotional wound.

And not fine-grained table salt. Big, chunky, rocky, sea salt.

I'm still terrible at analogies.

"I don't know about other guys but I don't," he said in a soft voice. "Not one girl, not under those circumstances."

My hands balled into tight fists because how he'd told me this now was pointless. "Why are you telling me this now!?"

"You never let me explain that I'm not what you think, Ellie." He just lifted his shoulders casually but the serious look in his eyes drove a spike of discomfort right into the center of my chest. "You never gave me any chance, Ellie."

This is ridiculous. I shouldn't have come here because he's totally gotten the wrong idea.

With my luck, Lydia's probably outside in the bushes taking incriminating pictures.

"Doesn't matter," I blurted out the obvious fact. While my brain hadn't wrapped around the possibility that Emmitt was a decent guy, he'd still gone along with the horrible charade.

At this point I can't tell if the whole sorority hazing event is just a joke like some kind of sisterhood loyalty test, or Emmitt just lied to the Zetas to cover for whatever girl he'd... picked.

"You're with Hightower again." His dark brown eyebrows drew together like he disapproved of my new relationship status.

"Yes, Logan's my boyfriend." I kept my voice neutral but squeezed my fists tighter at my sides. While I didn't know how he found that out, my relationship status was still none of his business. "And I couldn't be happier."

"But... You're here." One corner of his mouth curled upwards.

"Ugh, and now I'm leaving." All his efforts gained him were my rolled eyes and a grunt, so that's what I gave him. "I just wanted to do something nice and now you're making this weird, so I'm just going to go. See you in class, Emmitt."

Before he said goodbye, I closed the door behind me, shook the jumbled thoughts inside my head, and linked my elbow inside Monique's. I glanced around the neighborhood while we walked back to her apartment but saw no signs of anyone else.

"Trust me, no one will believe anything happened unless they find a body," she assured me with a gentle laugh that relaxed the tension in the back of my neck. "And if there's a word of gossip that we came over for a threesome, then there definitely will be a body."

I tossed her a smile that I hoped showed the appreciation her assurance instilled in me. "You're the best."

"No argument here."

My mind flashed over to Logan while I looked down and caught the purple of the jersey he'd given me. Hesitation wavered my voice when I asked Monique, "Hey, is it weird that I... want to take a sexy picture for Logan? He got me this jersey."

"Nope." Even in the early evening light, her eyes flashed with interest at that suggestion. "I send nudes to Darrius before he comes back. Helps him forget that he's deathly afraid of flying."

Oh gosh. Not nudes. Anything but nudes.

"I can't do that," I admitted softly and pushed down the giant pile of opinions I had on that idea. "But I told him I'd send one of me only in his jersey. Do you think he'd like that?"

I wasn't going to pass judgment on Monique's relationship exchanges but, more than anyone else, I knew not to send anything completely inappropriate.

Never leave a trail.

With one flip of her wrist, Monique showed me a text response on her phone screen. "If Darrius' 'Daaaaayum' response is any indication, I think you'll be pleased with Logan's reaction if you send him anything."

"Guess we'll see." A few thumps beat harder in my chest at her insinuation.

After a hug of thanks to Monique, I hurried home, where I took a picture of me in just Logan's jersey while I knelt on his bed. For at least ten minutes, I studied a few pictures to make sure there was nothing exposed or remotely indecent shown.

Honestly, if anyone asks, I wore tiny shorts underneath.

"I did say I'd do it," I muttered down to my phone and texted Logan.

Ellie: Like I promised.
Ellie [ image attached ]

While Logan's message read indicator flipped on, after a few minutes, he still hadn't responded.

Oh shit. Maybe he didn't like it?

The longer I sat in silence, the stupider I felt about the picture. So while I kept the jersey on, I brushed my teeth and climbed into bed while I waited for Logan's reaction.