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There it was. Nicole’s grip tightened on the edge of the portfolio, but she kept her eyes on Phallon’s face.

“And neither is Drew,” Phallon continued. “But at the end of the day, he’s going to stick with his own.” She stepped closer as she said it, close enough that Nicole could see where her gloss had gathered at the corner of her mouth.

Nicole had been having such a good morning, and Miss Thing had crossed her path to tell her that being Black made her somebody Drew could fuck but never choose. “Girl, if you don’t get the fuck out of my face.”

“Fine.” Phallon pulled back. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turned sharply enough to swing her hair across Nicole’s cheek and headed down the walkway, her platform heels striking hard against the pavement.

Nicole watched her go, then shifted everything to her other arm and headed for the phones.

This bitch.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Go, go, go!”

Nicole was halfway off the couch when Dayshawn caught Drew’s pass near the middle of the field and turned upfield without slowing down. A defender lunged for him, but Dayshawn cut past him and kept running.

“Yes!” Bailey shouted, smacking Nicole’s thigh hard enough to sting.

A Tennessee safety was closing in, and Nicole leaned toward the television as Dayshawn picked up several more yards before the safety finally dragged him down. The replay showed Drew letting it go before Dayshawn had even come out of his break. By the time Dayshawn turned his head, it was coming right into his hands.

Nicole sank back against the cushions, grinning. “That was beautiful.”

Beside her, Bailey finally took a bite of the pizza she’d been holding through the whole play.

They’d been like this since kickoff, with the pizza box open on the coffee table and soda cans and crumpled napkins scattered around it. Nicole had started the game curled into the corner of the couch with her feet tucked under her, but every time Drayton got the ball, she ended up leaning forward with both feet on the floor. If she managed to stay seated through the whole play, she considered that restraint.

Drayton had taken the lead early, and halfway through the third quarter, the crowd in Knoxville was getting restless. Every sweep of the stands showed rows of Tennessee orange, with fans standing to shout toward the field or sitting with their arms folded. They’d been so loud at kickoff that the roar came right through the TV.

Tennessee was still making Drayton work for it. Their corners were playing tight coverage, and nobody was breaking off long runs. But Drew kept finding the open man, and his receivers kept catching everything he threw.

Now Drew got under center and called the signals. He took the snap, turned, and handed off to Cash. Nicole hadn’t met that roommate yet, but she was on her feet cheering as Drayton’s running back tucked the ball against his ribs and charged through a hole the offensive line had opened up. A Tennessee defender grabbed a handful of Cash’s jersey, but the fabric slipped through his fingers. By the time another defender brought him down, Cash had gained more than enough yards for a first down.

“Oh my God, they’re hella killing them,” Bailey said.

Nicole reached into the pizza box without taking her eyes off the screen. “They are not playing with these people today.”

Everybody was doing his job. Drew had time in the pocket, and every time Drayton’s defense came off the field, somebody was getting slapped on the helmet or grabbed around the shoulders. Even the punts were pinning Tennessee deep.

The announcers kept bringing up last week’s loss. Nicole understood why, but by the fourth time one of them mentioned it, she wanted to reach through the television and turn his notes over. Yes, Drayton had lost one game. Everybody had watched it. Could they please talk about the one happening now? On-screen, Drew stepped into another throw, and Nicole forgot the announcers altogether. Her man was out there kicking ass.

She hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning, when he’d woken up beside her before leaving for the away game. When he called from the team hotel that night, she’d told him about getting into the art program and her run-in with Phallon. Now she wanted him back here, where she could get her hands on him. Sitting in his sweatshirt would only do so much.

A few plays later, Drew turned and handed off to Cash again, or that’s what it looked like, and Nicole followed Cash right into the pile. Then the camera moved, and there was Drew, still holding the damn ball.

“Oh, he kept it,” Bailey said, sitting forward.

Drew had already brought his arm back. His pass reached Kirby as he crossed in front of the end zone, and Kirby caught it against his chest without breaking stride. A defender got to him near the goal line, but Kirby drove through the tackle and landed in the end zone with the ball held tight under him.

Nicole was on her feet before the official raised his arms. “Touchdown!”

Bailey jumped up and grabbed her hand, and they bounced together before collapsing against the couch, laughing.

The replay showed the ball still in Drew’s hand as Cash continued past him. “You fooled me too,” Nicole told the television.

Drew met Kirby coming back from the end zone and knocked his helmet against his teammate’s. Then the two of them headed for the sideline, where the rest of the offense crowded around them. Nicole couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted to hear him talk about this one.

By the fourth quarter, she was ready for him to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sideline. Drayton had a comfortable lead, the defense was giving Tennessee hell, and everybody in that stadium had seen what Drew could do. He could take a seat now.