Chapter Twenty-Eight

Zach

I'm met with a sharp, deliberate silence when I push the locker room door open. No one was expecting me to have the balls to walk in here, but I like to defy expectations.

Mike is the first to stand, welcoming me by raising his hand for a high-five. "Hey, man. Welcome back." Catching his hand, I pull him in for a hug, and everyone else avoids eye contact.

Damn. I would have thought winter break and my two-week suspension following it would have warmed some of the frostiness between us, but not so much luck.

"Look who's back." Jamie sneers, taking a few steps toward me. His face has mostly healed from when I fractured his nose. The only evidence of a break is the purple and yellow spots that speckle the bridge of his nose. Too bad. I enjoyed seeing the pictures Mike sent. The guy looked like an underdeveloped scrotum.

"I'm surprised you're willing to show your face around here, but I guess there are perks to sucking Coach's dick after every game."

Mike stands closer, backing me up or getting close enough to stop me if I do anything stupid. Both are a possibility at this point.

Ignoring him, I drop my bag and unzip it, pretending I'm unbothered by his whiny voice. Coach may have done me a solid by brokering a deal with the principal to downgrade my punch to a suspension and get it hidden in my transcripts, but that's as much for him as it is for me. Without me, South Point Prep has no way of winning.

"Cheaper way of staying on this team than buying the stadium," I mumble, pulling out my practice uniform.

"Zach," Mike warns, but I don't listen.

"Although, that still only bought you a place on the bench. That's how bad you are. Tell me, Jamie, is Daddy Nicks buying Southern Collegiate a new stadium so you can warm the bench there too?"

He slams his lips shut, glaring at me, because he knows I'm right.

The locker room is quiet as I pull my shirt off, changing into my practice jersey and shorts. Jamie hates the challenge, so he challenges me right back. He sits on the bench next to my unbranded bag and toys with the frayed fabric. I pull it away, and he just laughs bitterly.

"Aww, Scholarship Kid, are you upset? Suspension was hard enough, but now you've lost a bet to me too."

I crick my neck, look from side to side and notice the other football players watching our interaction intently. I crack my knuckles, tightening my jaw before zipping up my bag. That bet was the last thing on my mind after Tiff dropped that bomb last month.

"Bet's still on. Prom is in three weeks." Not to mention that stupid debutante ball in between. Granted, I haven't spoken to Honey, but once she finds out why, I'm sure she'll let it slide. Not talking to her doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about her, though. Two weeks without school or football to distract me meant she was on my mind much more than I'd anticipated. I'm just a deal to her; that's what I have to remind myself. I'm the stupid fool who started falling a little too hard for her.

Jamie leans back on the bench and blows out an arrogant, selfish huff as he looks at me with disdain. "Guessing you didn't see the picture I sent you?" I draw a blank because I have no idea what he's talking about.

"I got a new phone." Adrenaline courses through my body when Jamie smiles at me wickedly. My body itches to go onto the field and let out some of this pent-up energy, but I hold back because I'm intrigued by his cocky attitude.

"I was at her house for New Year's." He looks around the crew of football players, smiling because I'm the only one not in on the joke.

"It wasn't just you," Brett interrupts. "We were all there." That's not surprising. Honey mentioned all those obnoxious dinner parties that her mom would make her go to. "Jamie's the only one that went outside with her."

My eye is begging to twitch, but I hold strong. Jamie knocks my knee, pretending like we're buddies and this is all locker room talk. "After Honey finished crying over dime dick for choosing his baby mama, we got a little frisky. Let's just say her head started on my shoulder, but her mouth ended up somewhere else." Jamie winks, dragging his eyes down to his crotch. "I'm sure you can guess where."

"Your pencil dick?"

Brett and Kyle snort, and Jamie tilts his head in contemplation. "That's not what she said. Told me my dick was thick as a brick compared to yours. That she could actually feel me at the sides when I fucked her from behind."

Don't rise to it. Don't rise to it. It's what he wants.

Mike sends a lazy glance my way, knowing exactly what's running through my mind. Or maybe he doesn't because I never told him about my changing feelings for her.

"Got nothing to say, Scholarship?"

If I talk, I'll punch him, and I'd get expelled this time.

"You know, I heard that your baby mama is a little hottie, even after having your kid. Is that why she came to the last game? Because she was looking for a rich stepdaddy to help pay the bills since you're not cutting it? Isn't that why you whored yourself out to Hunniford in the first place? Fucked a rich girl to support your poor kid, a real knight in shining armor."

Okay, now he deserves everything that's coming his way.

With my fist already curled, I turn, ready to punch his lights out. Only, Mike pushes me out of the way and, to my surprise, punches him in the gut with two hard blows. "Shut the fuck up, man. I'm tired of hearing your constant berating of Zach. You deserved that nose break, and you deserve this." Another blow to Jamie's stomach, but no one's stopping him. The school hierarchy is showing, and apparently, I made a very silent but powerful ally when I let Mike take me to the bus stop all those years ago.

"Alright, back up." Brett pushes Mike away, pulling Jamie up and toward the exit. "Let's get outside. Coach will make us do extra drills if he finds out about this."

"Remember, the bet isn't over," I call while Kyle and Brett drag Jamie out of the room.

"You're right, Evans. We aren't done," Jamie calls back into the room. He's right. We'll never be done, and that's part of the issue that now lies between Jamie Nicks and me.

"Shaking in my boots, Nicks. I'm still going to win that bet." Because I have to. I need that money more than ever, and it only seems right that Jamie pays for the tests and lawyers we'll need.

I take a long breath and look back at Mike when Jamie's gone. The guy may be quiet, but I wouldn't mess with him on a good day. He's built like Derrick Henry. "Thanks for sticking up for me," I say, scratching the back of my neck, feeling a little sheepish. No one has ever stuck up for me like that.

He sits with his legs parted, his elbows resting on his knees while he cracks his knuckles. "Yeah, well, someone's got to. Jamie just wants to get you in trouble again so that suspension becomes an expulsion, and I refuse to watch you get expelled because of an idiot like that."

"Appreciate it."

He shucks his chin. "No problem. Return the favor by sorting out your shit with Honey."

Honey. Right. It's been nearly four weeks since we've talked, and I know I have my work cut out for me. If things hadn't gotten so crazy at home, she would have been the first person I called to thank for fixing my bike. Hell, I wouldn't have just called; I would have driven to her house, picked her up, and taken her to watch the sunset at West View Point… if I thought she wanted to see me.

Mike starts to walk to the tunnel and glances over his shoulder when I don't move. "You coming?" he asks with the raise of a brow.

"I'll be there in a second." I wave him off, feeling more anxious about this than I anticipated. "Just got to put my bag away."

Mike nods, heading out, leaving me in an empty locker room. I wait a few more minutes and check the showers. When I'm sure I'm alone, I kick Jamie's locker open. The idiot doesn't bother locking it because he thinks no one will mess with him.

Unzipping it, I rummage through the bag, looking for a few things. At first, all I find are his dirty boxers and old sneakers. Nothing that will help me, but then I see them. Grinning, I grab the two items and quickly shove them into my own bag. He won't miss them.

Once I've locked my locker, I jog onto the field, ready for our final practice before the championship game.

With my bag clutched closely to my side, I make my way through the hall with one thing on my mind. Getting back to my bike with no one asking me any questions. I keep my head down, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

"Hey, Honey," a student calls, and the mere mention of her name makes me look up, eyeing the girl I've been ignoring for the last couple of weeks. It's only been a month, but damn, she's even more gorgeous than I remember.

Standing at her locker, she's still wearing that damn short skirt that makes my dick involuntarily hard. Her hair's a little longer than her usual longish bob, and I like it. It looks wilder and a little more mussed, kind of like the way it looked after I ate her out the one and only time I got to experience the taste of her decadent pussy. What I wouldn't give to have her pulling at my hair and making those noises while she writhes underneath me again.

When her amber eyes meet mine, my feet start walking toward her without my mind's consent. I have no idea what to say to her, especially in the hallway with so many witnesses.

Her cheeks flare, and she drops her gaze to the floor, looking all kinds of awkward. She scuffs her shoes against the floor, and I'm surprised. No red-bottom soled heels today, just a pair of regular mary janes. How is her mother coping with that rebellion?

She raises her head sharply when I shut her locker, forcing all her attention on me. "Zach," she says my name in her usual lusty tone, and I pin her against the locker. With both my hands resting against the metal, I can't help but notice how short she is in these shoes.

"Honey," I reply with similar lusty tones. Her eyes track my muscles before she meets my gaze.

"Wh-what are you doing?" She's wide-eyed and breathless, and funnily enough, I'm asking myself the same question. I didn't think before making my way to her, and she's, no doubt, pissed that I haven't contacted her, but she's like a magnet; I can't stay away, even though I know it's wrong.

I drop my forehead against hers, not ready to leave but knowing I have to. "Couldn't leave today without seeing you."

She draws a breath in, and the tiniest of smiles plays on her lips. It will probably be too late, but I can't wait to tell her everything when this is all over.

I drop a hand to her cheek, rubbing the soft skin with my thumb.

"Thanks for the bike, Honeycomb. I love it." I kiss the spot where her brows crinkle, then her nose before capturing her lips against mine. I kiss her hard, trying to tell her how I feel the only way I can in the halls.

Her fingers grasp at my leather jacket as she desperately tries to keep me in place. As if I'd go anywhere.

This is where I belong.

Pulling away, I rest my forehead back against hers. "Honeycomb," I whisper against her lips. "I've got to go, but once I've finished sorting out this mess, I'll come find you and explain everything." She can't hide her disappointment, so I try to kiss it away. "Wait for me?"

She nods as she sucks her lips into her mouth and stares at the ground.

My heart plummets to my stomach because all I want to do is tell her everything. But doing that now wouldn't be fair to Tiff or Ella, and the metaphorical heaviness of my bag is starting to weigh on me.

"See you soon, Honeycomb." I drag myself away from her and stride down the hall, looking forward to the day I can put all this shit behind me.