One month later - mid September

“You need to clean your room or I’m not staying over anymore,” Carter tells me, her hands on her hips and upper lip curled in repugnance. “It smells like a locker room in here.”

My eyebrow raises, challengingly. “What are you talking about? This is clean.” I hold my arms out, gesturing around the room.

She snorts, strolling across the wood floor, pausing in front of a substantial mound of sweaty, dirty clothes I wore to football practice each day this week. Nudging it with the toe of her sneaker, she flits a disgusted look my way. “You shower after each practice, right?”

“Yeah, it’s the first thing I do when I come home.”

“How about you put the dirty clothes in a hamper when you take them off, instead of a stinky pile on your bedroom floor?”

“I don’t have a hamper,” I reply, smirking.

“Do you have a trash bag, because that will do in a pinch.”

“What’s this thing called a trash bag that you speak of?”

“Nick.” Her voice is stern and unamused.

“Okay, I can put my dirty clothes in a bag if it will make you happy.”

“That’s only the start of what you need to do. You can’t just leave them in the bag. They have to make it to the washing machine.”

“How will they get to the washing machine?” I joke.

She doesn’t laugh. This must be the tone she’ll scold her dental patients with when they don’t brush or floss well enough. It’s reminiscent of a disapproving teacher and kind of hot.

“Do you have a broom?”

“I’m not sure.” I answer, imagining her riding me while I’m in her dentist’s chair.

“Are you messing with me, right now?” Her exasperation bleeds through, quelling my wandering thoughts.

“No. I swear I don’t know whether we have one or not.” Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I hold in the smile fighting to escape. I really don’t know if there’s a broom somewhere in this apartment or not, but seeing her all fired up is enjoyable.

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve never swept any of the floors in this place?”

“Nope.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Who does it, if you don’t?”

“Brady and Zeke always did, but now that Brady’s moved out it’s probably Zeke.” Running my hand over my chin, I ponder the situation, further. “Maybe, Trevor? I’m not sure. I don’t really pay attention.” Or care.

“Nick, I find your lack of concern about cleanliness unsettling. You’re a total slob,” she huffs.

“I am, and I’m not ashamed to own it.”

“Well you should be. I’m not going to clean up after you for the rest of our lives,” she sputters.

Although her words are insulting they make me deliriously happy. She mentioned us having a future together and she’s always so careful to avoid doing so. I stalk forward intent on getting to her as quickly as possible. Pulling her into my arms, I kiss the top of her head. “You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” I question, my hoarse voice slightly muffled by her soft curling tresses.

She stiffens in my arms, resting her chin on my chest. Her wide blue eyes are dark as she peers up nervously. “Maybe.”

“What’s this maybe, crap? Tell me, woman.” My hold tightens on her waist. “I’m a man. As it is, I’m insecure by nature and need you to let me know what’s going on in that head of yours. You keep your feelings locked up tighter than fucking Fort Knox.”

She titters. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are. Tell me how you feel, Candy. I need to hear that you want the same things from this relationship as I do. Otherwise, what’s the point?” Raising my hands, I rest my palms on each side of her face. Her skin is soft and warm, lips temptingly parted. Everything about her is a distraction, but I can’t wait any longer to tell her how I feel. “I’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you for weeks, but I didn’t want to rush or pressure you. We’ve been together for two months now and each day that passes makes me fall for you more.” My hands tighten on her cheeks, my eyes implore her to listen to my words and recognize that I mean them. “I love you, Carter. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I noticed you in that sexy pink dress guzzling champagne like it was going out of style. Or maybe it was the take charge way that you clutched my hand and dragged me off to have your wicked way with me.” She giggles, repeatedly blinking away the sheen of tears, glistening in her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter when I fell in love with you. The most important thing to remember is that I am in love with you and it’s never going to end.” Her eyes shimmer full of joy as she smiles. “I’ll always love you, Carter. I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt that.”

“I love you, too. I really do.”

Fusing our lips together, I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. The words she shared were the ones I needed to hear. We pour every emotion into this kiss; the floodgates have been opened. We both took the ultimate chance, bravely baring our souls for one moment of vulnerability that will alter our lives forever.

* * *

“Wow, this place is a lot classier than the dump you used to live in,” I jest, my eyes scanning around Brady and Harlow’s spacious apartment. The smooth hardwood floors gleam with polish and not a scratch in sight. The gray couch we’re sitting on is new and stain free.

“It’s a lot easier to keep clean.” Brady aims a pointed glance my way from the love seat directly across from us.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m a neat freak now. I’m so clean I’m squeaky.”

“Hah. Nick and I had a come to Jesus talk about him being a slob. I won’t go over there if he doesn’t clean.” Harlow holds her hand up from where she sits for Carter to pretend high five.

“Way to air our dirty laundry, Carter.” I reply, drolly.

Harlow laughs as usual. She’s always appreciated my humor. “Nice pun.”

I point at her. “That was for you and you alone.”

“Hey, knock that off. You know private jokes between you guys aren’t allowed. You have your own girl now, I don’t need to share anymore.”

While the three of us laugh, I observe Carter’s serious expression on her face. Her brow is furrowed with worry lines and that can only mean one thing. I chuckle, before relieving her concerns. “No, Brady and I never shared Harlow like you’re imagining.”

“Eww,” Harlow shudders.

“Heeeell no,” Brady yells.

Carter’s eyes narrow into tiny, anger filled slits. If she could strike me dead with a glare right now, I think she would. “I wasn’t imagining any such thing,” she huffs.

“Candy, don’t be embarrassed. It’s all good.”

“Can’t say I blame you for wondering, Carter.” Harlow aims her thumb back and forth between Brady and me pointing. “These two were complete man whores. Nothing should be out of the realm of possibility.”

“Hey, I may have enjoyed the company of a few fair ladies, but I was nowhere near the man slut Brady was. He was the champion of one-night stands.”

Brady pumps his fist. “I was, wasn’t I?” He grins.

“Honey, do you really want to celebrate your disgusting sexual history in front of company,” she jerks her head in Carter’s direction. “Not to mention, that your fiancé is standing right here. Remember me? The woman who overlooked your questionable sexual history and gave you a chance.”

His celebratory expression flips to contrite. “Kitten, you know I wasn’t happy when I was acting like a fool. It took your love to open my eyes and I’d never go back to those days. Why would I when I have everything I want right here?” He pulls her into his arms, kissing the top of her forehead.

“Carter, Nick was telling me that you’re going to be starting dental school. Is that something you’ve always been interested in?” Harlow questions.

“Yes, I’ll start in January. For now, I’m working full time under a dentist. I’m only handling the cleanup and set up between patients and some appointment booking, but I love it.”

“I can’t wait to call you Doctor Candy.” I wink.

She smacks me on my chest and rolls her eyes, before facing Brady and Harlow. “He’s ridiculous, but adorable. I think I’ll keep him.”

Harlow laughs. “You might not have a choice.”

“Right? As if I’d let you escape my clutches.” I rub my palms together, gleefully. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I like being stuck with you.” She winks, playfully. I love to see her so carefree, especially with my best friends. She fits right in, like she was meant to be part of the equation all along. She’s the component that’s been missing from my life.

“When are you guys getting married?” Carter questions.

Harlow glances at Brady with a small smile on her pink lips. “We’re waiting until I’m done with school. We’ll get married next summer, maybe have a small wedding on Nantucket.”

“That sounds perfect. I always seem to enjoy the smaller scale weddings better,” Carter offers.

“Me too,” Harlow agrees. “I want to be able to remember who’s there and have time to thank them all for coming. I don’t want three hundred people that I barely know attending.”

“I can understand that.” Carter nods.

“Not, me. I want a big drunken party,” I interject. “Lots of people acting like fools and doing embarrassing things. That’s my kind of time.”

“Sounds like a typical college party to me,” Brady remarks.

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t want our wedding to be anything like that,” Harlow explains. “You dragged me kicking and screaming to too many frat parties over the past two years. Now that you’ve graduated I don’t have to deal with that anymore.” She brushes the back of her hand across her forehead. “Phew. I never thought I’d make it out alive.”

Brady laughs. “Stop being so dramatic. They couldn’t have been that bad. You’re still here with me.”

A fist pounding on the door interrupts the conversation and puts an end to it continuing further. “That would be our dinner.” Brady jumps to his feet, shoves his hand into his front pocket, pulling out some money. As he heads to open the door, the delivery person raps their knuckles on the steel incessantly. “I’m coming,” Brady shouts good naturedly as he turns the knob.

* * *

“Did you have a good time?” I inquire as I navigate my Jeep through the city streets.

My eyes skim to the side, noting that the corners of her lips are tipped up. “I did. I really like those guys. They’re a great couple.”

“They certainly liked you. I could tell.” Brady and Harlow had met her once before, but it was at a party with a lot of people and distractions all around. This time it was nice to sit down just the four of us. I wanted them to get to know her and see how amazing she is.

“I hope so. I know they’re important to you.” Her hands nervously clench in her lap.

“Yeah, the two of them and Zeke are my closest friends. Now, you’ve met them all and have nothing to worry about.” We come to a red light and my head turns in her direction.

She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip and cautiously meets my gaze. “So…,” she pauses. “You and Harlow never had anything…uh, you’ve never been more than friends?” she, tentatively questions.

I laugh, the deep sound reverberates around the interior of the vehicle. “No. There has never been a time that Harlow and I have felt anything beyond friendship for one another.” I rest my hand on the bare skin of her toned thigh, squeezing gently. “That’s not something you ever need to worry about. I know with your history you can’t help that your mind automatically goes in that direction, but there’s absolutely no reason for you to wonder about Harlow and I.” I squeeze her thigh once more, leaning toward her. “She loves Brady and we’re like brother and sister. Honestly, she feels more like a sister to me than Tabby does.” The light turns green and my focus returns to the road in front of us.

She rests her hand on top of mine, tracing between my fingers with the pads of her fingertips. Her slight touch has my stomach spinning and my jaw clenching with need. My foot presses down on the gas pedal urging it closer to the floor. I can’t wait to get her home and prove to her, she’s the only woman on my mind.

* * *

“How are you feeling?” I question Owen, the starting quarterback of our team as we both run through a series of pre-game stretches on our sideline.

He rolls his neck from side to side. “Great, but I want to get started. This waiting is the worst part.”

Pulling one heel to my ass, I aim my knee to the ground and stretch my quadricep. “Yeah, I hear ya.” Switching feet, I balance on my other leg, repeating the stretch and holding for a twenty count. My gaze sweeps over the rows of seats above where I stand; the section reserved for family members and close friends of the team. Carefully, I search the crowd until I catch sight of Carter sandwiched between Reagan and Kennedy. Her eyes are huge in her stunning face as they sweep around the brightly lit stadium. The large crowd of fans who come out in support of us can be overwhelming if you’re not expecting it. This is the first game of the season and there’s not a vacant seat to be found.

A roaring chant of “Terriers,” starts up and my chest fills with pride. I have so much to be grateful for. I’m playing a sport I love at the only university I wanted to attend. The girl of my dreams is sitting twelve rows up, supporting me and my teammates. And she loves me. What more could I possibly ask for? Maybe, a W for the game? It would be nice to begin the season on a positive note.

Carter’s lips stretch into a smile when she notices me watching. Bringing my hand to my mouth I blow her a kiss then using sign language, say I love you. She echoes the motion back at me and a comically large grin takes over my face when she directs a sharp elbow to Kennedy’s side.

I imagine the conversation going something like, “Aw, you guys love each other. How sweet. So sweet I want to puke.” I’ve gotten to know Kennedy well the past couple of months and she loves to bust balls and push buttons. I’m sure a lot of her attitude has to do with what her ex has put her through. I’m still not sure if he’s completely out of the picture yet. Carter doesn’t like to talk about it and I try to respect that by not asking too many questions.

“O’Shea,” Coach’s deep voice pulls my attention from my girl. Immediately moving to where he stands, I wait for his instructions. “I want you to play smart, but aggressively. I know your heart hasn’t been in the game, but the team needs you.”

“Coach, I always give it my all no matter what.”

“I know you do.” He slaps me on the back twice. “Let’s focus on getting the win today. The rest can wait.” He glances up to where Carter sits before his gaze returns to me.

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “Message received, coach, loud and clear.” I storm away before I say something I’ll regret or that could possibly get me kicked off the team. I’m committed to playing the rest of the season, but that’s all. If he keeps saying shit like he just did, I won’t last until then.

Why is it a problem that I have a girlfriend?

First Owen and now Coach. Who’s next? And how the fuck does he know? Which one of my teammates told him? It’s not like she comes to watch practices. She works full time.

Teeth clenched, I stand with my hands on my hips. My upbeat mood of minutes ago, has suddenly plummeted. Now, I’d rather be anywhere than here. If I wasn’t so competitive, I’d say fuck it and walk out, but my team needs me. Besides, I want Carter to see me play and be proud of my performance.

The first half of the game moves along slowly. Neither team scores on the first few drives, and we can’t seem to get in the groove and find our rhythm. Our play is flat like my mood and I’m sure the spectators are wondering why they’ve wasted their money and time watching this boring game.

Coach sits us all down on the locker room benches and angrily berates us during halftime. I don’t think he’s ever shouted so many four-letter words in such a short amount of time. Bracing my elbows on my knees, my hands dangle between my legs as I stare at the black rubber mats covering the floor. His reprimanding flurry of words turns to white noise in my head. I cancel them out with images of Carter’s riveting blue eyes and her open smile that can dissipate the gloomiest gray of a rainy day.

“O’Shea, you got something amusing you’d like to share with the rest of us?” Coach barks out. Raising my head, I wipe away the smile thinking about Carter has brought to my face. “No, sir.”

“Get your shit together guys or we’re going to be starting the season with a loss,” he grits out between clenched teeth. With one final glare in my direction, he storms from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The wood rattles on the hinges then settles as it stills. The relieved collective sigh of the team can be heard in the silent space and we all break out into roars of laughter. The lighter moment dispels the dark mood left by coach and when the second half kicks off we play like we want to win, dominating the third and fourth quarters. I catch two receptions for touchdowns and now we’re in the final nine seconds of the game. We line up on the ten-yard line, Trevor calls out his count before the ball is snapped smoothly into his hands. I shoot forward, pushing off the balls of my feet, pounding down the field toward the end zone. My legs and arms pumping, I avoid contact with a defender and the ball sails right into my arms as I cross the goal line. Touchdown. The crowd thunders their approval as they rise to their feet like a wave. I pause in the end zone, tap my lips and point in Carter’s direction before jogging back over to the sideline. She grins widely at me, jumping up and down in celebration. Having her here means more to me than I imagined. Each day I fall deeper in love with her. It’s the greatest feeling in the world.

* * *

“Nick, how are you son?” my dad’s voice calls my attention as I exit the locker room. Spinning around, I trudge toward where he and my mom stand like my sneakers weigh a ton. Now that the game is over the adrenaline has worn off and it doesn’t help that I know the purpose of them being here. It’s not that they don’t miss me. That’s not the case, especially with my mom. She sends me daily texts and we talk every few days. But with my dad, every opportunity he gets to talk about my “football future,” he takes advantage of. He doesn’t understand he’s doing irreparable harm to our relationship. He refuses to listen no matter how much I tell him I’m not interested in playing for the pros.

“Sweetie, how are you?” my mother asks, as I fold her into my arms for a tight squeeze.

“Hi, Mom.”

“You played a great game. I’m so proud of you.” Pride shines in her eyes as I step back.

“It’s great to see you. How are you?”

“I’m fine, just missing my boy.” She pats my arm and steps back.

“Son,” my dad comes forward. Shaking my hand, he tugs me into a one-armed hug capped by a thump on the back.

“Dad, nice to see you.”

“Great game. Did you know there were scouts here watching?”

“No, I didn’t,” I answer flatly. Of course, it only took seconds for him to bring up my football future.

“I was a little concerned when I watched the first half, but you got it together nicely for the second.”

“I always try my best,” I run a hand through my hair, still wet from the shower I just took. “I hate to cut this short, but I’m supposed to meet my girl now.”

“Girlfriend?” my mother questions, with a ridiculously large smile on her petite face.

“Yes, mom. Her name’s Carter and she’s awesome. You’ll love her when you meet her.”

“When can we meet her?” she persists.

“When I’m sure you guys can’t scare her off.”

“Hey, I’ve never scared anyone away before. I’m not intimidating at all.” She gestures at her tiny frame.

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” My eyes flick to my father.

“Do you really think getting attached to someone is a good idea when you might be moving across the country once school’s over?”

“And why would I be moving, Dad?”

“You could be chosen by a team that’s not in the northeast. Do you really want a long-distance relationship?”

Gripping my hair, I tug on the strands and then smooth my hand through. “Dad, I don’t want to play for the NFL. I don’t know how many times I can tell you this before it sinks in.”

“Hey, watch your tone,” he barks.

“Dad, I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but you’re not listening to me. I’ve been saying the same thing for six months.”

“Nick, you have an amazing opportunity that thousands of people wish they had.”

“I’m not unaware Dad, but that doesn’t change my mind. I’m not playing football past the end of this season. The sooner you accept that fact, the better.”

“We can talk about this some other time. Think it over.”

I laugh and shake my head. He doesn’t hear a fucking word I say.

“Go see your girl, sweetie,” my mom tells me. She sees and understands my frustration. Unfortunately, my father has tunnel vision when it comes to the idea of me playing pro ball. He’s in for a rude awakening at the end of the season because it’s not fucking happening. This is my life not his.