Clash

Adriana’s lips pursed for a moment before they flattened back into that waxy smile. “You don’t do his laundry, you don’t clean his room, we all know you don’t put out, so what good are you to him? A man has needs. He might be yours today. But what about tomorrow?” She leaned into his dresser, her fingers playing with the corner of it. I didn’t want her fingers running over anything of Jude’s like that.

“All right, let me put this in stupid people terms,” I said, steepling my fingers under my chin. “Stay away from Jude or I will, figuratively and literally, kick your ass. With a smile,” I added, plastering one on.

Arching a pair of the most meticulously sculpted brows I’d seen, Adriana clucked her tongue. “You want to know what happened to the last girl that stood in my way?”

Not really, but I couldn’t resist. “What?”

She lifted a shoulder, gliding across the room towards the door on those damn never ending legs. “I don’t know. I never heard anything about her again after I landed her man,” she said, peering back at me. “She was drowned in my wake. You better hope you can swim if you go up against me.”

This bitch was lucky I was letting her leave in one piece. “Like a damn fish.”

By the time I’d weaved my way through thousands of fans to get to the seat saved for me every home game, my anger and Adriana hate hadn’t dimmed even in the slightest. I knew had I shouldered into Miss Vix here, that cat fight that had eluded me for eighteen years would have come to a head.

Side-stepping down the front row, carefully balancing my popcorn and hot chocolate, I found a familiar face in the seat next to my front and center one.

“Hey, you!” Holly shouted above the crowd at me, grabbing the popcorn from me so I could get myself situated.

“I didn’t think you could make it,” I replied, giving her a sideways hug before taking my seat. Syracuse had yet to take the field, but we were seconds away, judging from the eardrum bursting volume in the dome. Jude leading his team out on the field to the adoration of thousands, that spandex forming and highlighting the muscles of his that deserved to be highlighted… well, it was a sight I never wanted to miss.

Keeping my eyes locked on the tunnel home team charged out of, I nudged Holly’s leg. “Your mom agreed to watch little Jude for a night?”

“It took some creative convincing, and I had to agree to frost her hair for free for a year, but yeah, she agreed. Plus, I had to perm like a dozen heads of old lady hair at the nursing home in town to afford the airfare,” Holly said, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “This is my first night off, and judging by mom’s lack of enthusiasm to watch her only grandchild, it will likely be my last for a while, so I’m letting my hair down tonight, girl. “ Weaving her fingers through her hair, Holly mussed it, then threw her head forward, giving it a rip-roaring shake. “Fair warning,” she added, when she swung her head back up. Her long blond hair had just achieved an inch and a half of height.

“Just make sure you use a condom this time,” I said, smirking at her from the side. “And you don’t crawl onto anything that remotely resembles Sawyer Diamond.”

“Not funny,” she said, shoving my arm.

“How is Mr. Diamond?” I asked, not caring, but guessing she had the scoop since we lived in a town where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” she answered. “However, I find a great deal of satisfaction in knowing every time one of his friends enjoys a fine piece of ass, he’s getting lucky with nothing other than the soft side of his hand.”

I laughed, holding out my hot cocoa. She took it, shooting a smile my way.

After learning she wasn’t Jude’s love child’s mother, I was able to look at Holly in a neutral light. And I’d grown to like her. A lot. Our looks weren’t the only thing similar about the two of us‌—‌our personalities were so similar she often said the exact thing I was about to. Only Holly was braver in her delivery. What I was too chicken to act out, Holly did without a second thought.

It was a trait I wanted to sharpen.

The visiting team erupted from their tunnel, welcomed by the booing and bantering of almost the whole dome. Holly even joined in, lobbing a few pieces of popcorn onto the field.

And then the flags of orange and white, followed by a backflipping, high kicking cheer crew I hated as a whole based on principle, burst out of home tunnel. I didn’t need to consult the number on his chest to identify him when he sprinted out of the tunnel. Jude had a particular brand of swagger, even in a run, that I’d be able to identify fifty years from now.

“I swear that man swaggers in his sleep,” I yelled over at her.

“Yeah, but Jude’s swagger is justified, not manipulated. He moves with that strut because he knows how to make a woman throw her head back in bed. And he knows it,” she said, tipping the hot cocoa back.

“Yes, he does,” I mumbled, lost in the sea of noise.

The stadium went wild, screaming, chanting, and bowing as their hero led his team onto the field. In barely two months of college play, Jude had already become a legend. He played on a whole different level than the rest of the college boys. He played like he was a god. And his fans worshipped him accordingly.

Shooting up in my seat, grabbing Holly up with me, I bounced, hooted, and hollered with the best of them. So much so, I already felt hoarse when Jude took his spot on the sidelines, right in my line of sight. The coach was talking to him, but Jude looked back, his eyes finding me right away. The benefits of calling the front and center seat for your girlfriend, I suppose. He waved at Holly, then winked at me, which I answered with an air kiss. His grin split his face mask before he turned his attention back at his coach.