Second Chance Boyfriend

her retreating back, wondering what that was all about.
    Wondering what sort of weird little love triangle I might’ve let myself walk into.

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    I hate the idea of anyone else having you. – Drew Callahan
     
    Drew
     
    They scream and shout my name the second I slip inside the private room at The District, the new restaurant where Logan’s party is being held. Every one of my teammates is already shitfaced and it’s only ten. I can see it in their blurry eyes, their red cheeks, their too-loud voices.
    But hey, at least they’re happy to see me. I figured I’d become the enemy. The asshole who lost their chance at a bowl game. We’d been close, so close every one of us had started to taste that faint glimmer of victory.
    Then I met a girl, we went home together and I let everything that happened there fuck my head all up. Stupid.
    Logan approaches and gives me a shoulder-slapping hug. He reeks of alcohol and I push away from him, startled when Jace appears by my side, places a beer in my hand and tells me to drink up.
    I dutifully do as I’m told, ready to lose myself for at least a few hours. The visit with my dad had turned tense the moment he insulted Fable. Crazy considering we weren’t together anymore, but I wasn’t going to stand by and let him say rude crap about her. Truthfully, she was above all of us and I refuse to let him drag her through the mud, even if it was only to me.
    After that fiasco of a lunch, he dealt constantly with Adele calling him, texting him, calling him again. I didn’t need that reminder so I stayed away. Which meant we were apart for much of his visit, until he finally told me this morning he needed to go back home and attend to “business.”
    Bullshit. Business was code for Adele. I didn’t call him on it, merely nodded and let him go. Promising him we’d get together again soon.
    Yeah, right. I don’t see that happy reunion happening anytime soon.
    “You’ve been in hiding,” Logan says as he sits next to me, a drink clutched in his hand. His head lolls, as if he can’t quite keep it upright, and I shake my head, chuckling as I sip from my beer. Sierra Nevada, the beer of choice in this town, it’s about the only kind I can drink. The rest tastes like swill.
    “I’ve been around,” I say with a shrug. “Lying low. Taking fewer classes this semester. I needed a break.”
    “I get it, man. I get it. And hey, don’t let coach mess with your head. It wasn’t your fault, our spectacular losses at the end of the season.” Logan’s expression goes serious. As serious as it can go, considering how drunk he is. “We all sorta fucked up, you know?”
    I take another, bigger swig of beer. I need it since the topic of conversation has veered into a serious direction. “You think so?” I wonder if he’s just feeding me a line.
    “Definitely.” He nods eagerly, his head still bobbing. “I’m glad you’re here, man. You never go out with us. I feel like I’m special or something, you showing up for my birthday and shit. Not everyday a jackass like me turns twenty-one.”
    We both laugh. “You’re right. You’re a total jackass.” Not really. Logan’s a decent guy. And besides, I couldn’t sit at home with my thoughts any longer. I was driving myself crazy.
    Logan grins. “You need to hang out with us more. Wait until you see the waitresses who are ours for the night. They’re fucking hot. One of them everyone knows, some blonde groupie with an amazing ass. The other one is tall and dark. Looks like a damn model.”
    An uneasy sensation slides through me at the description of the blonde but I push it aside. What are the odds? And there are plenty of blonde team groupies out there. “Cute, huh?” I feign interest.
    “Cute doesn’t begin to describe either of them. They’re complete opposites and completely hot.” Logan tilts his head back so it bumps the chair back. “I need to get laid,” he says at the ceiling. “I haven’t had sex as a twenty-one-year-old yet. I think tonight calls for a celebration of the get-laid kind.”
    “I’m surprised there’s no girls here.” My teammates are known for having crazy parties with half-naked girls in attendance. Half the reason why I would never go—half-naked females coming at me used to scare the shit out of me.
    They still make me uncomfortable because they always, always want something I can’t give them. Like my attention, my time. Forget that shit. There’s