3

Ryan

Missing — Local Art Student

It'd been one week since the half-dinner with Kassandra Ragar and I couldn't be trusted with my phone anymore.

Kassandra Ragar.

I found her full name and what little of her socials I could dig up the day we met. That meant opening apps on my phone for the first time ever. Now that Cleo was head intern, she handled all our accounts for carefully curated crap. It turned out to be a thing I'd taken for granted. Those apps had too many bright blue buttons and reminders to update stuff that hadn't seen the light of day since I'd been handed the phone. It was a headache. The whole damn thing was a headache.

And she'd shown up with no underwear.

Not even a thong.

With the snap of his wrist, Adam Russell dangled one of my earphones over me. "Tell me, what the hell are you listening to?"

I raised the weights again. "No idea."

"Are you still pussywhipped? This is getting old, captain."

"Our training slot ends at eight," I reminded him, irritated.

"Ryan—"

"Stop bothering me. Get back to work."

"Eh, wrong answer. This is the saddest thing I've ever seen." Adam stretched back. "King!"

I could've tossed the weights at him. The linebacker was one of my best boys on and off the team, but this whole thing was his damn fault. If he hadn't slept through his photoshoot, I wouldn't have had to take his place at the dinner.

And I wasn't pussywhipped. There weren't hidden meanings in my actions.

Yes. Kassandra Ragar was attractive with a curved smirk that any man would've taken a double look at. And maybe all the blood in my body had gone right to my cock when she unsheathed her claws. That was a momentary lapse of judgment.

Any man would've reacted the same.

At the end of the day, all I wanted was to apologize and move past it. It's a captain's responsibility to keep a good reputation for the team. Which doesn't include sparring with a mouthy art student.

I just wanted to apologize. But finding Kassandra Ragar turned out to be impossible.

It was better to put the energy into weight training. At least I'd be too tired to go looking again.

"Adam, leave him alone." King sighed from the archway.

The defensive end grimaced at me when I looked up. He must've been trying to keep Adam on a leash for a while.

"I've got something that'll fix this," Adam chuckled.

"Fuck off, Adam," I warned.

"This one's funnier." He scrolled through his phone next to me. "I promise from the bottom of my heart."

Hopefully, his phone would fall and crack into a million pieces, but luck hadn't been on my side lately. I must've seen dozens and dozens of that goddamn photo.

Cleo's boss, the actual public relations guy who dealt with Marrs University's biggest clients, approved the week's social media updates without our head intern combing through them. And he had the ingenious idea to pick a picture that must've looked innocent to him at first glance. Kassie in that short jumpsuit, me in slacks. Except it was one of the few shots we weren't smiling at each other. I'd been saying something, looking like an asshole, and Kassie stared at me, the way someone stares at a guy, acting like an asshole.

That one image spread everywhere.

With the bobblehead between us. Fucking fantastic.

If everything else hadn't happened, it would've been fine. I couldn't lie, it was a funny picture. But then the hockey team incident got out. And no amount of fire extinguishers could put a pause on that leaked video.

Our school was heading up the rosters, but Cleo said we were trending for a completely different reason.

What the hell is up with Marrs University ?

Adam's phone hovered over me. I didn't bother to read the caption. Pushing the weights back into place, I got him back to work. "Bench press. Thumbless grip. Now."

"That's funny."

" Now ." My shoulders burned as I took my place behind the equipment. I waited until Adam got into position. "First. If you want to talk shit, I don't care but don't waste your time here. Next game's on Saturday."

"They're all on Saturday—"

" Second, " I snapped. "Coach Lawson's rule, if you can talk, you're not going hard enough."

"Pussywhipped Ryan is the worst Ryan on the lineup—"

My voice carried over the training room. "I'll add more weights."

"Shutting up," he grumbled.

King took his place next to me and picked up a dumbbell. "Did you find anything?"

"No," I replied. "She hasn't posted in four years."

"She might have an account under a different name."

That took me by surprise. I hadn't thought of that. "Why would somebody have a social media account without their real name?"

"Man," Adam huffed, "you live in a damn cave—"

"Fifty more pounds?" I threatened.

"Shutting up."

King worked in silence for a minute. "Cleo's Honda is in the parking lot. Maybe she has something."

I should've been grateful for the whole bullshit ordeal. At least Cleo had something else to focus on instead of trying to convince me to stay at Marrs next year. But a distraction wasn't enough. It was like the girl disappeared into thin air.

Where is Kassie?

King tried again. "She could be listed in the school directory—"

"Unlisted."

The defensive end frowned, and I went back to spotting Adam.

That wasn't a good enough explanation. I cleared my throat. "I just want to apologize."

"Alright," King said finally.

"I do."

He grunted.

"That picture wasn't far off," I admitted. "It wasn't a great time. And Kassie…well, she's something else." I rubbed the back of my neck, pondering my next question. "King…you wouldn't say we're…ball dribblers. Would you?"

Adam snorted. "Say we're what? "

"What're you three punks doing?" A singsong voice burst through the door. June Basil emerged with a fresh cup of coffee and a grin.

On campus, June was a lot of things. In every organization, top of the housing committee, homecoming queen, and daughter of a favorite Houston city council member, June was one of the main ambassadors of Marrs University. If a ribbon was cut, she was in the picture. And June was also known for one other thing - being King's girlfriend.

It was one of Cleo's favorite things she had engineered. A fake relationship between June and King.

A mutually beneficial transaction.

June juggled her coffee in the crook of her elbow and pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail. "What's the news?"

"They're abusing Adam," Adam announced.

"Oh, good." June snorted. "Productive!"

Adam ignored her long enough to bring the conversation back to me. "And Ryan's still pussywhipped. No news there."

"Ryan isn't pussywhipped," June chided him. "He just wants to apologize for being an asshole. You wouldn't understand." She picked up a small weight, walked over to Adam, and lowered it on his chest to a round of curses from him.

"Oh, come on, June." I shook my head. "He's so tiny. Don't kill him."

" Kill me?!"

King held his head in his hands, trying not to laugh, and June put her hand on her hip. "It's character building."

" Kill me?!" Adam repeated. "Did you just call me fucking tiny? I bench—fuck you. I'm your linebacker, I cover your ass. Whatever. I'm taller than all of you. You're just jealous."

With a roll of her eyes, June put her attention back on me. "Ryan, seriously, what's the update? Did she say no?"

"She—"

"Oh—I can't forget." June took a sip of her coffee. "Coach Lawson and Cleo said they need to talk to you before class."

I knew what the conversation was.

Why not stay at Marrs for your senior year?

"The artist hasn't said no yet," Adam grunted from the weights. "Sherlock can't find her."

That was enough. "We're running track after this."

" What? " Adam demanded, heaving the extra weight off his chest. "Class is canceled, morning practice is done, and you're making us do extra work?! "

"What do you mean you can't find her?" June pressed until her eyes flickered down to the piece of metal and plastic I'd purposely left a bench away. "Pssh, men." She picked up my phone and turned it on with a few swipes. "Ryan, you really need a passcode."

"He's not allowed to have one anymore," Adam said.

"I hate technology," I muttered under my breath.

June sighed. "Let's see, art department, right? Animation… a couple of organizations. Teachers tagged…found her. Look, she went to dinner with a drawing class." She was barely able to keep down a gloating grin. "You are a bunch of amateurs. That took me seconds!"

I strode around the equipment and checked over her shoulder.

Kassie.

That was her. Well, it was Kassandra Ragar, but not the one I knew.