20. Maddox

TWENTY

MADDOX

Pushing away from the kitchen table, I stand and stretch out my back.

"Mad Dog," a guy I recognize shouts at me over the thumping music.

I tip my head back in acknowledgment, then pick my Gatorade up off the table.

Sometimes I love living in the Football House. Sometimes I enjoy the parties. But it's not what I want tonight.

What I want works in the library.

What I want is a girl who blushes while she teases me.

What I want is to have that girl in my arms again.

In my arms.

In my bed.

Marked as mine.

Adjusting myself, I shake out my leg, then try to make my way through the bodies crowding the main floor, but it's fucking elbows to assholes in here.

"Coming through!" I snap.

It's too loud for anyone to catch the true annoyance in my tone. But people still part for me, lifting hands for high fives.

I don't mind being a big person.

I need to be big to play the way I do.

But when you're my size— wearing triple XL clothing, standing nine inches taller than the average man— it's not exactly easy to slip through anywhere.

Elbows are bumped. Drinks are sloshed. But I finally make some progress.

I'm almost to the stairs when someone steps in front of me.

"Hey, Maddox." Essie stops right in my path.

"Hey," I reply and try to move around her.

"You heading upstairs?" She looks up at me, an expression on her face that says she wants to join me.

The second floor is bedrooms and strictly invite only.

Essie is your classic it girl . Always looks perfect. Always dresses as though a paparazzo might take her photo. She's attractive.

But her hair is the wrong shade of brown.

She doesn't have any freckles.

And I don't feel even the smallest urge to ask her questions about her life.

"I am," I answer, and her innocent smile starts to pull into a smirk. But then I speak again. "Good night."

She tries to cover her annoyance over the rejection, but I see the way her lips pinch together. "Night."

I'm not trying to be rude, but I'd rather be blunt than lead a girl on. She's been spending a lot of time hanging around the team. So it's best to put an end to any of her hopes now.

Spotting Waller a few feet away, I call out his name. He knows I don't drink during the season, but if I disappear without telling him I'm going to bed, he'll come searching for me later to make sure I'm okay.

He's a good friend.

He puts his thumbs in his armpits and flaps his arms like chicken wings.

He's also an idiot.

"Nate!" I shout louder, and he finally snaps his head in my direction.

I point up the stairs.

He pulls one of his thumbs out of his armpit and holds it up for me.

Then he makes a face like he smells something bad, and I shake my head and start up the stairs.

This is why I need my little library girl.

I need some class in my life.