Fallen Fourth Down

MASON

A week later

“Kade.” Drew signaled to get my attention, but I barely heard him. I couldn’t hear much except the music. We were at Cliché, on the private football floor. A huge group had congregated to celebrate the end of exams. There were others from school, and I recognized a couple girls from our class, but I was there for only one reason. I needed to make sure my roommate didn’t get too plastered. Ten a.m. practice was going to come too damn early.

Drew waved again, mouthing my name once more, so I slid out of the booth and rounded it on the other side. As I sat down next to him, I watched Matteo dance. He wore a white, unbuttoned shirt. His bare chest was solid muscle, but his stomach ended with a fat roll hanging over his jeans. Grinning, sweat rolling down his face, he rubbed a brisk hand over his bald head. He placed one hand on his hip, pointed at us, and yelled, “FOR YOU, GUYS!” With his hand still raised to us, he took a dramatic step, turning so his ass was facing us. With his hand up, he started pointing at the others around him, keeping in rhythm with the music. At the same time, the deejay suddenly switched the song. Loud bass slammed through the speakers. It sent a wave of energy through the crowd and everyone started dancing harder. As this happened, Matteo glanced over his shoulder at us, winked, and bent low. His ass stayed up, and he began twerking.

“Oh my god.” Drew looked down. His shoulders lifted as he began laughing, shaking his head at the same time. “Only Matteo.”

“Mason!” Matteo yelled again. He had moved closer to us. A small ring of people continued to surround him, but there was an opening for us. “Roommate pay per view.” As he shouted each word, his ass twerked up and down. The bass in the song changed again, speeding up, and Matteo stopped shouting. He kept going, matching the fast pace of the song.

“We do not need to see this.”

I grinned. “Just be glad we’re getting the back end view.”

Drew tucked his chin to his chest and bent over the table. His shoulders shook even more. When he kept laughing, I frowned. A tray had been placed on the table with ten shot glasses. All of them had been emptied. There were a few other empty glasses next to them. I was about to ask how much he had when Matteo lumbered over to us, panting.

“Guys.” He bumped the table with his hip, tipping over a few of those glasses. Matteo had no clue. He slapped a hand on his knee, bending over so his face was close to ours. Some of his sweat splashed off his arm onto us.

“Ew.” Drew leaned back, as much as possible, pressing against the booth. “Matty, back up.” He ran a hand down his arm and flicked some of the sweat off. He glanced at me, but I flashed him a grin and tugged at my long sleeve.

He groaned. “I get too hot if I wear those.”

Matteo was looking between us, his head moving back and forth, like he was watching a tennis match. I turned to him, and when he sensed the small conversation was over, his eyes lit up. “Okay. I have an idea.”

“No.” Drew and I spoke at the same time.

Matteo paused, looked at both of us, and said again, “I have an idea.”

“No.” We spoke again.

“What?”

Drew rolled his eyes. “You’re plastered. Any idea you have right now, we’re not doing. It’s going to be a stupid idea.”

“It’s an awesome idea.” His eyebrows were arched high, and his eyeballs seemed to be bulging out. His entire face was animated.

“We have practice tomorrow morning. Are you going to live long enough to get there?”

“No,” he said to me, and turned to Drew. “So about my plan—”

Drew pointed at me. “He’s saying no. I’m saying no. Fuck, Matty.” He ran a hand over his face and let it drop to his lap with a thud. “I’m wasted, and I’m more sober than you. This is a problem.”

“I have an idea—”

“NO!” Drew and I shouted, speaking as one.

Matteo paused, his eyes skirted back and forth, and he opened his mouth. I groaned. He was going to say the same damn thing. Drew jerked forward and pointed at the dance floor, “Hey, look!”

Matteo whipped around, a permanent grin on his face.

As he was turned, Drew tapped my arm. “We need to get him out of here.” He stopped, held up a finger for me to wait. “We need to get me out of here too. Coach is going to kill me tomorrow.”

Matteo was still looking for what Drew had pointed at.

“Coach is going to kill all of us.” I grabbed Matteo’s arm, prepared to drag him with us, whether he wanted to leave or not.

“Not you.” Drew stood with me and fell behind me. “You’re sober. Thank god you came with us. We don’t need any press recording us trying to hail down a cab. Matty would flash his tits and if that wouldn’t work, I’m sure he would've performed a strip show.”

I started to laugh, but Matteo whipped his hand backwards and slapped me.

“Hey!” That fucker hurt.

He was still looking ahead of us. His hand came back, his fingers spread to deliver another slap. He said, “Hey, hey, hey.” He reached farther, trying to hit my face.

I dodged, stepping back into Drew. My elbow got him in the gut, and he doubled over. Matteo’s hand was still flailing around. Grabbing it, I yanked him back. He looked up at me, still grinning, and pointed with his free hand. “It’s that chick you did a presentation with.”

Letting go of Matteo, so he didn’t fall but couldn’t hit me again, I scanned the dance floor and saw Marissa in the middle. Her head was back. Her eyes were closed. Her hair was let down. It touched the small of her back as she held her arms in the air. A guy was grinding against her. His hands were holding her hips, and as she kept dancing, he eyed her rack. Wearing a tiny tank top and a short skirt, he was getting a good view. As I watched, one of his hands slid around her hip to cup her rear end. He grabbed a good handful, and a smirk etched over his face. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">