I might tell my dad this week.

I'm glad I kept it tame and only

said kiss.

I roll my eyes.

You know what I mean. About us.

That is . . . if you're okay with it.

Am I okay touching and kissing

you every time I see you, no matter

where we are? h.e.l.l yes.

He might be hard on you. He's not

always most logical person when it

comes to treating me my age.

I can take it.

Is there somewhere we can be

alone? For just a little bit.

To my surprise, he leans over to Silas and the two talk quietly.

Upstairs. Second room on the left.

I'll go up first. Give it a minute or

two, and then you follow.

Done, Romeo.

Romeo, huh?

I might have changed my mind

a little about chance romantic

meetings at parties.

Well, here's to romantic party meeting number two.

I duck into the kitchen to get a drink and to kill some time. Someone must have been feeling especially celebratory, because in addition to the keg, there's liquor and mixers set up on the bar. I fill up my cup with mostly cranberry juice, and a splash of vodka, while two minutes stretches into an infinity.

I'm counting the seconds in my head when a body leans on the bar next to me, too close.

"You're Coach Cole's daughter, right?"

I manage a thin smile. "Yeah."

The guy is ma.s.sive, tall and blond and probably closing in on three hundred pounds.

"Jake Carter." He holds out his hand. "I'm on the defensive line." I take his hand, and he shakes mine a little too long for my comfort.

"You talked to Levi since everything went down?"

I jerk back. "Um, no. I haven't. Why would I?"

"I just thought you might since you guys have a history."

"Yeah." I roll my eyes. "Ancient history. I am miles past moved on."

"McClain, right? You must have a thing for QBs."

"Excuse me?"

I grab my drink and turn to leave.

"Wait, I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

I don't even bother concealing my annoyance. "Yeah. Don't worry about it."

"Before you go . . . there's something you should know." I raise a brow, remembering why I don't come to parties like this. "I like your dad a lot. He's a good coach. I would have told him, but I don't want to mess with the team dynamics when everything's going so well."

"Just spit it out," I say.

"There's a bet going around the locker room. Levi started it at the beginning of the year. Silas and a few other guys are in on it. Whoever hooks up with you first wins."

"Hooks up with me?" Despite all the noise and laughter of the party, the world is oddly silent around me.

"It's stupid. Levi . . . He was just saying how you . . . well, you weren't that easy, and it became this thing to joke about who could nail you down. I just . . . I thought you should know. You being here at a football party and all."

"Who can nail me down, huh?" I laugh and it tastes bitter on my tongue. "Thanks for the tip, Carter."

I add a little more vodka to my drink before I turn and leave. This isn't new territory for me. After Levi graduated, I was the frigid b.i.t.c.h who wouldn't give any guy a chance, especially football players. And the sc.u.m at the bottom of the male barrel always seem to think a girl who says no is just a girl who's a challenge.

I tip my cup up, and swallow steadily as I climb the stairs. I didn't really mix in that last pour of vodka, and the first few swallows burn. But I keep going, and my cup is half-empty by the time I'm outside the door that Carson mentioned.

He's pacing when I enter, just the lamp on beside the bed.

He looks gorgeous, and I wince.

I gulp down more of my drink and tell myself that there's no way Carson is in on that bet. He's been entirely too sweet and patient and caring.

"Hey." He folds his arms around me and presses his face into the crook of my neck. "I missed you."

Maybe he's too sweet. Is that a thing? Are there actually guys like him that are really this great? Or do they all have some ulterior motive?

I tip my head back to sip more of my drink, and his mouth opens over my pulse. "You taste so f.u.c.king good. You drive me crazy."

"Are we in Silas's room?" I ask.

He nods before trailing his lips down to my collarbone.

"I know. Not exactly the most romantic place, but we'll just stay standing and not touch any surface."

Silas and a few other guys are in on it.

He can't be. He just . . . He can't be. He said he didn't listen to the locker-room talk about me.

He lifts his head up and cups my chin. "Hey. Where are you?"

I finish off the last of my drink and say, "Sorry. I might have poured a little more vodka than I thought into that."

He presses his forehead against mine and says, "You okay?"