“Mmm…” he said with an exaggerated flick of his head and looked away, only to sigh heavily and glance my way once more. “There he goes again,” he said casually.

“There goes who?” I asked, looking in Lyle’s direction to see what held his attention.

“Austin Carillo, staring at you, again.” Lyle’s hand was still in mine. When I peered over to where the football team was practicing, Austin stood drinking a bottle of Gatorade, glaring at our hands.

He clearly didn’t like Lyle being my lobster.

The jealousy within Austin’s dark gaze ignited a fire within my stomach, and I cast him a small smile of appeasement. His head subtlety flicked in the direction of the table he was beside. I understood what he wanted—me to go to him… discreetly.

Pulling my hand from Lyle’s, I began walking away. Lyle shouted to my retreating back. “And where you going now, Lexi babe?”

“Need a drink!” I yelled back over my shoulder.

As I reached the table, I reached for a bottle of water and felt an almost unbearable heat suddenly radiate at my side. I looked down at the water in my hand, then pretended to glance over at the cheer squad practicing their new stunts… without me.

A part of me died inside. I was sacrificing my passion to lose weight… but I had to. I couldn’t bear them feeling all the fat on my back.

“That guy who was all over you likes cock, right?” Austin asked quietly, pulling me from my jealousy. He was right beside me, downing the rest of his blue Gatorade.

The question made me laugh, and I turned to face the stands as I unscrewed the top from my water bottle. “Erm… he’s g*y, yes. Why? Are you jealous?” I teased, and then there was only silence.

Checking around me and making sure no one was watching us, I angled my body to face him. Austin was in his red Tide training shirt and shorts, picking at the label of his bottle, a scowl firmly on his face.

“You okay?” I asked and inched closer. As I inhaled, I could smell the sweat on Austin’s skin, the product of his sprints. But rather than being a put off, it drew me even closer. I… I… wanted him.

My eyes widened. I wanted a guy. But—

“I’m not used to feeling jealous, I suppose,” Austin admitted reluctantly.

All the bad thoughts that were inevitably going to spring to mind about how the hell I would ever sleep with Austin stopped, and I almost gasped in shock at his confession. Austin simply smirked at my reaction but quickly went back to his somber mood.

“Something else is bothering you,” I said.

Slamming his empty bottle into the trashcan, Austin covertly reached down to my hand and gripped it tight. “The dean came to our practice this morning, warning that drugs were on campus and that he was pushing a zero tolerance approach. He warned that if any footballers were seen dealing or taking anything, they’d be done. The cunt glared at me the entire f**kin’ time, Pix. He knows I know something. I could see the accusation in his beady little eyes.”

Stressed at the whole damn situation, I squeezed his hand and said, “Austin, you need to stop your brother and protect your future here at UA. It’s gone too far. It’s getting too close to you being caught. It could jeopardize your entire future!”

Austin slipped his hand from mine, his face adopting a stony expression. “Leave it, Pix. This shit ain’t none of your concern.”

Feeling as though he’d slapped me, I snapped back, “Well, at least I know my place.”

I went to turn away when Austin gripped my hand. “Shit, Pix, I shouldn’t have said it like that. I just… I just…”

Sighing, I turned to face him again, whispering, “I just… care for you, that’s all.”

Austin’s deep, dark eyes fixed on mine, and I saw them flare at my words. “Okay, let me start again. There is no f**kin’ way you’re getting anywhere close to all that shit, to that part of my life, Pix. You gotta be protected from the Heighters. They ain’t no pansy group, and they don’t want anyone outside of family knowing their business. If Axe and Gio ever found out about you and me…”

Swallowing in trepidation, I began to move away, not wanting to hear the rest out here in public. Then I heard, “Meet me tonight at the summerhouse. Nightfall.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I allowed myself to look back at Austin. My heart fell. The big, tattooed, and menacing-looking wide receiver of the famous Crimson Tide was begging me with his dark eyes.

As I nodded my head in agreement, Austin seemed to relax, only to say, “Why aren’t you flying in the stunts, Pix? I watched you tell Shelly you were done.”




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