Love, Ally by Hannah Gray

thirteen

Cole

“My man.” Weston slaps me on the back. “Nice fucking work out there.”

“You too, brother.” I grin.

Three games down, three games won. The season is looking promising, and our team is finally working like a well-oiled machine.

The first game started rough. The guys didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms. But I think Knox helped them see the bigger picture—our football careers. Once he reminded them of that, they finally got their fingers out of their asses and started working with me, not against me.

Ricky quit after the first game. And for that, I do feel bad. But he chose to walk out on his team, and that’s on him. If I ever got injured, he would have been the one to come in for me, and he deserted us. I lost a lot of respect for him because of that.

Sure, I can be a cocky motherfucker, no doubt. But I know without the team, I’d be nothing. The first game when the defensemen didn’t protect me was a prime example of that. We all need each other. It’s corny to say, but there really is no I in team.

The one good thing about Ricky quitting is, the rest of the team now treats me as one of them on andoff the field. We need to bond in order to be the best. Whether it’s running together, eating meals together, or working out together, it all strengthens the crucial bond we need to have. And now that he’s out of the picture, they can kick it with me, guilt-free.

I turn the shower on as hot as it will go, and my aching muscles appreciate the scorching water as it pelts off of my skin. I love this game, but fuck, is it hard on the body.

I noticed Ally and her friend weren’t in their usual seats. Knox and the blonde chick, Sloane, haven’t been spending much time together since a few weeks ago. The same night they came over for a movie and it ended with Ally running away from me. Good times.

And I haven’t seen or heard from Ally since then either.

Not that I can blame her. I called her a whore. The fuck was I thinking?I’m actually shocked she only slapped me. I fully expected a punch, possibly a knee to the nuts. I would have taken it too. I’m not the type to disrespect a woman by calling her names. But that’s what losing her has turned me into. A complete dick, apparently.

The old Ally, the one I knew before, she wouldhave decked me without hesitation. But now, she’s timid. She doesn’t look at me the way she did back then either. Hell, she barely looks at me at all. I don’t understand it.

I know we will end up together. There is no other person on this earth that I want. And there is no other man in the world that I would ever allow her to get close to. Fuck that. She belongs with me. She’ll come back to me. I know she will.

I remember the day she showed up in Charlotte’s Falls. Long, dark hair with blue eyes—that, at the time, were almost too big for her face—scrawny-ass chicken legs, and a damn grungy AC/DC shirt. Oh, and bright blue Chucks that were definitely thrift-shop shoes. Yet she was the coolest twelve-year-old girl around town.

I had gone through my life completely numb. Until her. Once she came into my life, I laughed again, smiled again. Hell, even felt again. She was—and still is—the only person I ever spoke to about finding my dad, overdosed. She had found her mom the same way. Only worse for her, she’d found her mother on her birthday. In some tragic, fucked up way, it united us. No matter how poisonous and awful this world was, we had each other. Until she upped and left.

That’s what made it so much worse than your typical high school breakup. The other kids splitting up, they had family; they had friends. We had nobody outside of each other. Sure, kids at Charlotte’s Falls kissed my ass because I could throw a damn ball. But those kids were not my friends.

My arm is my lifeline to making it to the NFL. Yet, the night she left, if someone had said I could lose my arm and never play ball again just to keep her, I would have told them to cut the fucking thing off right then and there. I might need my arm to throw, but I needed her to feel.

The leaving for another family—I could have forgiven her for that. After all, it is ultimately up to a judge whether we go or stay. But to change her cell phone number, delete all social media, and literally disappear is unforgivable. Or it would be to anybody else, that is. I know I forgave her the second I laid eyes on her at the movie theater. The second I pushed her up against a building and felt her body come alive, well, that was when I knew I needed her back.

But first, I need to find out where in the fuck she’s been all this time.

Turning the shower off, I reach out and grab my towel. Wrapping it around my waist, I step out and gaze around the locker room, realizing over half of the team has already left.

How long of a shower did I take?

I must have gotten lost in my thoughts. It isn’t hard to do.

Throwing my clothes on, I see Knox is sitting on the bench, looking at his phone, grinning.

“The fuck you so happy about?” I toss at him.

Glancing up at me, he leans back and smirks. “We’ve got us a party tonight—that’s what.”

“Where?” I ask, pulling on my sneakers.

“The baseball house. Nolan just texted.”

“Dude, I swear you have the numbers of everyone on the entire campus,” Weston gripes.

Standing up, Knox swings his arm around Weston’s neck and messes his hair up. “Don’t be jealous, big boy. You and Stormy are my BFFs fo’ liiife.”

“Get off of me, you fucking weirdo,” Weston grumbles, but he can’t stop himself from laughing.

Knox is just one of those guys. You can’t help but love him. He’s a funny motherfucker, even at his own expense.

He comes over and tries to pull the same shit on me, but I shove him off of me and shake my head and laugh.

“You’re an idiot.”

Looking at his phone again, he nods. “Yep, I’ll agree with you there. But this idiot is headed to a party and to find some tail.”

Slinging the strap of my duffel bag over my shoulder, I cock my head up. “What, no more Blondie?”

“Sloane? Nah, I’m all good there. Too much fucking work,” he says, but it sounds forced.

I think Knox had some real interest in that chick. I hope I didn’t fuck it up for him with my disagreement with Ally. That would make me feel like a dick.

“Knox, be straight with me. Did I fuck it up for you?”

His eyebrows pull together slightly. “Fuck what up for me?”

“Things with you and Blondie. Did my shit with Ally get in the way of you and her?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Nah, man. Nothing like that. It’s just too hard to keep up with a chick. Besides, we’ve got football to focus on. As freshmen, we all have a lot to prove. I’m not trying to show up here and tie myself down to dinner dates and Lifetime movie marathons with some girl. I’m here to play ball.”

I don’t need a distraction either. But honestly, Ally’s never been that to me. She’s always helped to keep me focused. The time we were apart, football lost some of its shine to me. I missed knowing she was in the stands. I missed her watching me work out or seeing her doing her homework on the bleachers while I had practice. I missed all of that. I’d never had family in the stands under the Friday night lights. But after I met Ally, she was the one who always showed up and cheered me on. She was the one in high school who drew my last name and jersey number on her T-shirt.

I fight back a grin at the memory of her voice screaming for me during the games. No matter how loud the stadium got, I always heard her above everyone else.

As much as I want to see Ally, I probably should at least attempt to give her some space. So, even though I’m not in the mood to go to this party and be around a bunch of annoying-as-fuck college kids, who are no doubt going to invade my space and pop my bubble, I could use the distraction.

Besides, I’m here at Brooks University. I might as well play the part. Even if the part isn’t who I really am. Because I’m a fucking fraud.