1. Benny

CHAPTER ONE

benny

“Block. Block for McBride. It’s your one job. You’re the right guard. Guard him.” Thankfully, Coach Zimmerman isn’t upset with me. Nope. He’s pissed as hell at my nemesis, Rowan Kincaid.

The guy is the bane of my existence. Huge. I mean, the guy towers over me and is twice my size. I’m not that small of a guy, but compared to him, I’m teeny tiny. This is the last practice of the summer. School starts tomorrow, and it seems Rowan still can’t get used to me being the quarterback.

I really can’t either.

When Coach Zimmerman introduced himself at the first practice, I knew things would be different. Our last coach was a total dickhead and hated my best friend, Dallas, with a passion. He was cruel and unfair. Two things a coach should never be. I’m pretty sure he mostly hated him because of his sexuality, which is messed up. He was so rough on Dallas, even though Dallas was pretty much perfect out on the field. We were great out here together. I’ve always been a receiver because I’m fast as hell, but I guess the new coach saw something else in me.

I like Coach though. He moved here from Texas—I guess his wife is from around here—and they have two little girls, who are super cute. Five and three. Little hellions already, who love to come at the end of practice and run around with us. Coach is a really good dad, from what I can tell. They adore him, and somehow that’s how I knew he’d be different.

Of course, I don’t think their dad will be too happy today. That’s the third time that we’ve run a play where Ronan just stepped out of the way and let me get pummeled.

If it wasn’t practice and not my own teammates, I’d have been flattened for sure. The asshole doesn’t care though. He’s angry and broken in ways I just don’t get. He doesn’t really talk much, except when he’s being an asshole and trying to get at me. It doesn’t work. I always get the last word and wind up riling him all up. Of course... he could be acting out a little bit because of that thing that happened last year. Almost happened. But to me, it happened all the same. Enough to break up with my girlfriend over it.

That thing we don’t talk about. That I don’t think about. That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life and still don’t know how it happened. He blames me for it.

Me.

I don’t get that guy. We were both there.

But I’m not thinking about it . . .

“It’s okay, Coach. I have Montgomery to protect me.” I slap Vaughn Montgomery on the shoulder pads. He’s the left guard, and Rowan is the right. They’re friends, but Vaughn isn’t anywhere near as big of a dick.

“Fuck off, McBride. He’s not going to watch your ass,” Rowan cuts in.

“Aw, you want to be the only one to watch my ass, don’t you, Kincaid?” His face goes bright red, and I think he might actually blow a gasket when I blow him a kiss.

“Stop being so gay,” he snaps, and I just cackle. I’m not gay. I like girls. I’ve had a shit-ton of girlfriends. But being called gay isn’t an insult, not at all, and it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest if I was gay. My best friend, Dallas, is gay as hell, and I love that guy.

Man, I miss him. He’s not dead or anything, don’t worry. But he graduated last year, is a brand-new father, and is totally and utterly in loooove. It’s gross and awesome all at the same time because Dallas is finally happy.

Truly happy.

And that’s all I want for the guy.

“Cut that shit out,” Coach Zimmerman barks, and for a moment, I figure he’s talking to me, but it’s Rowan who has his heated attention. Oh, he’s mad , mad. “Don’t use gay as an insult, you hear me? You say that shit one more time, and you’re off the team.”

Rowan’s jaw drops. And so does mine. Homophobia isn’t cool. Not even a little bit, but around Big Bend? It’s like the 1950s around here. People still use the worst slang. Crude, hateful, and ignorant words are used a lot. Thrown around as insults, as if being gay is shameful. It sucks, but I didn’t expect a guy from Texas to be any better. I guess that’s not really fair, but it’s the truth.

“Coach . . .” Rowan actually sounds a little remorseful.

“No,” Coach shuts him down. “Do. Not. Do it. Ever again. You hear me, Kincaid?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, but I can tell he knows how serious Coach is, and he keeps his mouth shut. Rowan does not give a flying fuck about much in this world, but football... yeah, he cares about football. You know in that baseball movie with Tom Hanks... the one with the female players? A League of Their Own . Yeah, that’s it. The really talented one... Dottie... won’t admit how much she loves baseball, but the coach is all, you know, you play like you love it. Yeah, that’s Rowan in a nutshell. He’s a total prick, but out on that field, he loves this sport. You can see it. You can feel it. Just watching him.

“Hit the showers,” Coach hollers to everyone else, but then looks at Rowan and me. “Kincaid and McBride, hang back and clean up. Then you can shower.” He’s still pretty mad, almost vibrating with it, and I wonder what that’s about. I mean, I hate when words like gay are thrown around, but he seems to be really angry and hurt by it. He, himself, can’t be gay—he’s married. Totally hot wife too. Like holy hell. Bombshell. I mean, I know some gay guys do get married to women sometimes, and have to hide their sexuality, but I don’t think that’s it. He really loves his wife. I’ve seen them when they think no one is looking—they’re passionate. Oh well, it’s really none of my business anyway.

Rowan . He’s always dragging me into shit. But I don’t really mind cleaning up. Benjamin “Benny” McBride is a team player. I start cleaning up the field, and I’m not surprised to see Rowan taking his sweet time.

Whatever. I’ll just be up a little later tonight because the chores cannot be ignored. My parents work hard on their farm, but they can’t do it without my help. And I really don’t mind helping them. My parents are the best, and they deserve the best.

By the time we finish up, everyone else is heading out of the locker room when we go in. Coach is in his office when I head over to my locker and strip out of my pads. I can feel Rowan’s eyes on me.

I don’t know why it sends a thrill through my body and a tingle down my spine. I’m always aware of him. I hate it. But I also kind of like it. I love messing with him and seeing him get all riled up. It started when he wouldn’t stop picking on my best friend, but then it kind of became this weird addiction.

I strip off, leaving myself totally naked, overheated, and sweaty before I turn around to face him. His eyes were on me. I knew it. But he quickly turns away, stripping out of his shirt and pads, leaving him only in the long shorts he wore to practice. He’s sweaty and dirty, and I can’t seem to peel my eyes off him.

I’ve seen him totally naked before. I’ve seen most of my team fully naked. It’s nothing new, but for some reason, my eyes are drawn to the strong lines of his back. I watch his muscles flex as he pushes his shorts and underwear down, baring his ass to me.

It’s round and firm. I can’t stop staring.

Shit. What the hell is happening to me? When his asscheeks flex with his movements, I swear I feel my dick stir. Seriously? What the holy hell is that?

I’m not gay. I’m not.

And I wouldn’t have a problem if I was suddenly attracted to a guy—but Rowan? No. No way.

“What are you looking at?” I notice I’ve been staring way too long, and his dark-green eyes are on me now, full of fury and heat. Heat? Can that be right?

I mean . . . that one thing that happened . . . almost happened. Nope. Stop, Benny.

I shake it off and try my best to look confident and unbothered as I walk over to the showers. “Sorry, man. Just noticing you packed on the pounds over summer. If you need any diet or exercise tips, I’m your guy.” I wink at him and then head into the shower.

“Fucker,” he grumbles.

Lies, by the way. Total lies . He hasn’t gained an ounce of fat. If anything, the guy is even more shredded this year than he was last year, and that’s saying something. Rowan Kincaid is all muscle.

I quickly shower, and I’m hopping out just as Rowan brushes past me. I get a glance at his ass again before I force myself to look away.

I get dressed quickly and get the hell out of there. I don’t really want to examine what that was all about. I’m going to chalk it all up to stress. And missing my best friend a little bit. Tomorrow is the first day of our senior year, and I can’t wait.

But it also feels like the beginning of the end of something. I mean, I love football. It’s my life, but I’m not foolish enough to believe I’ll be picked up by a college. Scouts don’t really come to our games.

And I’m not sure I’d even want them to. College just isn’t in the cards for me. I’m not really book smart anyway, and I’d be bored to tears behind a desk all day. My life will be farming.

I’m okay with that. I like the simple life. I’ll build a house someday out by my parents. I’ll have a wife and kids. It’ll be great.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make this the best goddamn season of football I’ve ever played. Because it’s going to be the last, and I want only good memories from it.