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half an hour earlier. I couldn’t deny the chemistry we had and I didn’t want to throw out the possibility of us becoming more than friends.
    “Well, I hope I didn’t distract you from your game last night. Did you win?” I asked coyly.
    “We did win,” he said and paused as the waitress set down a draft beer in front of him. He took a sip before adding, “Do you play any sports?”
    “No. Not anymore,” I said. “I tried a few different sports when I was younger, but the only one I did for more than a season was flag football in middle school.”
    Wyatt laughed. “I can’t picture you playing football.”
    The assessment was familiar. My mother hated the bumps and bruises I’d return home with after a particularly brutal game. At thirteen, I was pulled from the league and lectured by my mother over how the world was supposed to work. Pretty girls were the cheerleaders on the sidelines, not the players on the field. 
    “My family lives and breathes the sport, so….” I trailed off and chided myself for opening up more than I wanted to. I didn’t want to unintentionally create a breadcrumb trail leading Wyatt to discover who I was.
    “Football is obviously a big deal here, but our soccer team fucking rocks it. We haven’t lost a game yet,” he boasted.
    “What position do you play?”
    “Forward,” he said. “This is the second year I’m captain too. We were so close last year to being state champions. I really want us to win for my final year here.”
    “I honestly don’t know much about soccer, but I’d like to learn more. Maybe I’ll come to some of the home games.” I was being sincere. Talking about sports came natural to me. Football was in my blood, but with my dad’s coaching career in the toilet, the sport had become tainted.
    “I’d love for you to come,” Wyatt said. His fingers wiped away the dew building on the outside of his beer glass. “We have a home game on Wednesday at five if you’re free.”
    I nodded and I inwardly preened. Maybe he saw something more between us than a one-night stand. I liked him and wondered if I’d been too hasty over my insistence on not looking for a boyfriend. Men had a habit of disappointing me and I had gone into the date with that same mindset.
    “I’ll see if Georgie will come,” I suggested.
    Wyatt pulled a face. “Sure you could ask her,” he said although his words and tone didn’t match. “How is Georgia as a roommate? I wasn’t happy when I heard she was coming to Cook. When Georgia and my sister are together, they become two shit-stirrers you don’t want to cross.”
    “She’s great,” I replied honestly. “I haven’t seen her invite the drama.”
    His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Just you wait. Last year, Georgia’s boyfriend dumped her for a junior flutist. Someone anonymously sent the girl’s parents a link to an online sex video that had been making the rounds. From the looks of the clip, the flutist didn’t even know she was being recorded.”
    I skewered up my face in distaste. “Are you saying Georgie sent the link to the parents?”
    “And likely made the video. The video was shot from her ex’s laptop. Georgia had access to the computer before he broke things off.”
    My skin crawled over the thought. I hoped Wyatt was just passing along idle gossip and I didn’t have to worry about having a psychotic roommate. I didn’t plan on crossing Georgie, but knowing what she was capable of made me paranoid.
    Wyatt placed his hand on top of mine. “Forget about Georgia. I want to hear all about you instead.”
    His palm was warm and soft and I enjoyed the skin-to-skin contact. Our hands remained touching as I gave him the bare minimum about my background. I told him how I lived an hour away and I was the daughter of a secretary and a teacher. I didn’t elaborate and he didn’t probe for extra details. Maybe I would normally be bothered by how casual our conversation was, but I was relieved he was only