The Florida summer sun beat down on us as I sipped my water, watching Bryce zigzag through the dog park with Dawson, the two of them chasing each other in chaotic loops.

"How long do you think they can do this for?" Clayton asked.

"Dawson is a Lab, and Bryce has the energy of a Golden Retriever," I responded.

"So forever, then."

I nodded, to which Clayton just groaned. "I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. It's too hot to think out here."

"All hail, Trenton."

It was more than surprising to have Clayton ask to come along to the dog park, as to be tutored again. And then to apologize for abruptly leaving the day before. He almost looked like he'd been chastised, but Bryce over text had sworn he didn't mention anything to him.

Which only meant it could've been Trenton, Clayton's therapist. It was a running joke in the house to praise Trenton whenever Clayton did something nice or decent, which received the perfect amount of annoyance in response.

And it did, indeed, earn me an eye roll from Clayton. "Fuck off."

INSERT BIO TUTORING HERE.

Dawson came bounding over, paws up on Clayton, which immediately toppled him over.

Bryce and I both laughed as Clayton groaned, his phone and wallet both diving in opposite directions.

"Got it!" Bryce called out, reaching for his phone.

I grabbed his wallet, his 2 Years Sober coin slipping out into my hand.

"You're the one who needs to train the damn dog," Clayton said to Bryce, as he reached out his hand.

"We're at the dog park, grumpy grandpa. Chill."

Clayton glanced over toward me as I had his wallet open, slipping the coin back inside.

"Are you robbing me?" he asked, with a slight laugh. "Hate to burst your bubble, but I'm just as broke as you are."

"No, sorry. Your coin just slipped out."

His smile faltered, only slightly. "Makes for a great conversation starter. Everyone in the room gets so uncomfortable that you can just walk away."

It felt wrong to laugh, but one escaped anyway as he took the wallet from me. "Did I lose anything else while being attacked?"

"No," Bryce said, as he scanned the ground. "And I see you didn't lose your flair for dramatics."

"Attacked."

"Barely touched."

The two of them bickered their way out to Bryce's car, where Dawson bounded into the back, expectantly waiting.

Clayton hopped into the backseat next to him, giving him pets while simultaneously telling him how badly behaved he was.

"Did you get your zoomies out?" I asked Bryce, as he cranked up the AC.

"Yeah, just really hot," he said, leaning back in his seat. "Do you think you can drive home, actually? I just got like, overheated."

Clayton immediately perked up. "Not good."

No, definitely not good in this heat. "Drink some water." I hopped out of the car, grabbing the dog towel from the back and splashing it with my water. "Come around to the passenger seat and put this on your neck. It's cold."

Bryce made his way over to the passenger seat, leaning back. "I swear I'm alright, guys. I just got dizzy for a second. The heat really got to me."

I aimed the air vents toward him, turning the AC all the way up. "How're you feeling now?"

"Better. I swear."

"We see guys get overheated on the field all the time," Clayton said. "You know better."

Bryce weakly waved his arm back toward Clayton. "Shut up."

"Also, something reeks of wet dog," Clayton said, scrunching up his nose.

"It's not Dawson!" Bryce defended.

"It's the towel," I said, as I pulled out of the parking lot. "I grabbed the dog towel."

"Gross!" Bryce exclaimed, as Clayton gagged.

"You two play baseball in Florida. You've never used a dirty towel?"

Bryce opened his mouth, closing it again.

"Fair point," Clayton said, leaning back in his chair. "Still, the dog towel? Gross."

"We're washing this immediately when we get home."

These boys would never make it as doctors.

~*~

Making time for the gym in my ever-packed schedule was nearly impossible.

But on a rare morning of a cancelled lecture, I found myself trudging across campus, gym bag slung over my shoulder, regretting my decision with every step.

As I made my way toward the leg press machine, I caught sight of a familiar, messy red-haired top bobbing with each rep.

"Hello there."

He didn't even look over, his headphones on and apparently in noise cancelling mode.

Jayden and I weren't exactly close. He'd played on the team last year, but after wrist surgery over the summer, he hadn't been cleared to return this season. He was more Brad's friend than mine, but when Brad's old roommates graduated, the new living dynamic had taken shape—Bryce, Clayton, Jayden, and me. Living together with Brad.

I sent him a text.

SOPHIE

Boo.

I watched as he pulled the phone out of his pocket, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, before he glanced up and let out a startled yelp.

"I waited for your set to be over," I said, as Jayden took off his headphones.

"Appreciated." He glanced toward me and then the machine. "Am I in your way?"

"No, you're good. I didn't really want to come to the gym anyways, so the less of my workout I get to do, the better."

He laughed. "I feel that. All I can do is legs and it can't be leg day every day. I'm already a redheaded twig, if my legs are twice as big as the rest of my body, it'll be ridiculous."

It was my turn to laugh. "Why are you here, anyways? Don't you have access to the athlete gym?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, but then I have to answer to so many questions about the stupid arm and recovery."

The arm situation had remained a mystery. Every time someone asked what happened, Jayden gave a different story. Shark attack, trampoline accident, car chase, even a fall off the Empire State Building. At first, I thought he just couldn't keep his lies straight. But over time, I realized it was intentional. A smokescreen.

And it worked. No one ever really knew what was real.

"Makes sense," I said.

"I just have one more set and then I'll be out of your way."

I shrugged. "Take all the time you need. Hell, do two more sets."

We ended up following each other around the gym, and at some point our workouts just synced up.

"So what brought you to the Florida heat all the way from Maryland?" I asked.

"Did you hear what you just asked?" Jayden questioned, with a laugh. "What would make me, from the cold, want to come to Florida, where there are beaches? I couldn't imagine."

Maybe he and Clayton do make a good pair. "Do you visit home often?"

Jayden shook his head. "I don't really have roots back home."

Interesting answer. That wasn't something I could tug on, so I changed the subject. "What's your major?"

"Elementary Education," he said, which took me by surprise. "I know, nobody expects that from a jock."

"What grade do you want to teach?"

"Kindergarten," he responded. "I know, another shocking admission."

It really was. "Serves me right for being stereotypical."

"What did you think I was going to say?"

"Everyone does Business when they're in baseball. Come on."

He laughed at that. "Is that Bryce's major?"

"As I said, everyone majors in Business."

"Clayton isn't."

That was news to me. "What?"

Jayden cocked an eyebrow. "He had to declare his major last week for next semester. He didn't mention that?"

"No. What did he declare?"

Jayden went silent a moment. "I didn't realize he didn't say anything."

That was big news, as Clayton had been pushing off declaring a major for nearly a year, drawing out his prerequisites and essentially putting him a year behind everyone else.

"You're fine," I said, although I was dying to know. "We've all got our secrets."

If Bryce knew, it wouldn't take much to get it out of him later.

Jayden and I both stood up, wiping down the machines before swapping.

"You're a Pre-Med major, right?" Jayden questioned.

I nodded. "And it's kicking my ass."

"Bryce thinks you're pretty smart," Jayden pointed out. "And Clayton must think enough of you to get tutored. So by that logic, you must be kicking some sort of ass."

That was actually very sweet. "Thank you."

"Now tell me, what the hell is going on with Landon and Kylie? I cannot keep up."

~*~

My body was exhausted. Every bone aching, every muscle screaming.

I'd gone been on my feet for nearly 15 hours.

Dragging myself through the door, I gave a half-hearted wave to Brad and Amy as they watched Big Brother out on the couch.

As I opened the bedroom door, and dropped my bags on the floor, I realized it was dark. Curtains pulled, lights off, not even Hairspray on the TV.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "And if you say just a headache, I'll scream."

Bryce was silent.

"Hello?" I questioned.

"I'm trying to think of other ways to say just a headache. A slight pulsing in my temple?"

I groaned, tilting my head back. My body begged for sleep, but I forced myself upright again. "You didn't talk to anyone, did you?"

"I was going to, but—"

"That's not the same as doing it."

He was silent again. "Babe, I don't want to fight. My head hurts."

I clenched my jaw, biting back a scream. "You won't take ibuprofen. You don't go to a doctor. You won't even talk to your therapist about it. I'm tired, Bryce. I just want to come home and go to bed."

"Come to bed, Soph."

"I can't! Because now I have to go and call the doctor for you."

"Sophie, come on—"

My body just hurt.

"I haven't eaten in twelve hours," I snapped. "Not since the granola bar I had in my lecture hall. I watched a doctor tell a kid they're going to lose their leg. And I still have an exam tomorrow I'm not ready for. I cannot also carry this. I can't."

The dark room was silent.

I couldn't see Bryce's face, but I knew I'd hurt him.

"Sophie..." his voice cracked just slightly, "I don't even get why you're mad. I'm sorry your day was shit. Just come to bed. We'll talk tomorrow."

Deal with it tomorrow.

"I have to shower first. I've been at the hospital all day."

I heard a slight groan from Bryce. "Let me make you some tea."

"No. I want you to lay down, and I want you to call your doctor. Please."

"Okay. I'll do it right now."

I let my head tilt back, taking in a deep breath. "I'm mad because I shouldn't have to tell you to do that. I shouldn't have to think about your health and wellbeing on top of my own. I'm tired, Bryce. I just need a brain break."

His voice was softer this time. "Go shower. Come back, and I'll rub your head the way you like. I'll set your alarms. Pack your lunch. Make sure your notes are ready. I'll handle it, okay? You don't have to think. Just breathe."

I did just that. Nestled into bed, turning off my brain and relaxing into my pillow. Bryce's hands worked their way through my hair, rubbing my temples and down my jaw line.

As he knew exactly the way I liked.

And the next morning, my bag was waiting on the kitchen counter. Notes sorted into clean stacks. A protein bar tucked into the side pocket.

Beside it all: a hand-drawn bouquet of flowers. Sloppy, colorful, scribbled in pencil and highlighted with marker. At the bottom, in bold, messy letters:

I'M SORRY.

I walked back into the bedroom, the morning light barely slipping through the blinds.

Bryce stirred as I kissed his temple.

"I'm sorry too," I whispered.

His eyes fluttered open. "Mm?"

"I'm sorry that I came home and brought the tension of the day home with me. I'm still learning how to balance that."

He propped up on his arm, blinking a few times. "I love you. And I promise to take my health more seriously. I already made the appointment with the team doctor and texted my therapist that I haven't been sleeping well again. My responsibility, okay?"

I leaned down to kiss him. "Thank you. I love you."

"And I, you."

A lot of information in this chapter. A Jayden intro & our first Brophie fight. (I'm officially naming them.) Do you think they handled it well? Or how would you have done it?

Teaser: to say Sophie is overwhelmed would be an understatement, but someone always needs something. can she say no?

This book will update again on Thursday.