Chapter 37: Broken Play: Chapter 37

Winter break was…different.

Not because of the holidays, or the time away from campus, or even the ridiculous amount of food I consumed at the Montgomery house.

It was different because of Jaxon.

For the first time in a long time, I felt something I didn’t even realize I had been missing.

Home—not the kind built by four walls or a childhood bedroom full of memories, but him.

The way his arms felt around me every night, how he reached for me in his sleep like it was second nature, how we spent more nights together than apart, completely wrapped in each other.

The easy, simple moments.

Cooking breakfast in his parents’ kitchen. Stealing pieces of bacon off his plate while he pretended to be offended. Staying up late, curled up on the couch, watching old movies while his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on my skin. Waking up to his messy hair and that lazy, heart-stopping smirk, his voice still thick with sleep as he muttered a raspy “morning, beautiful” before pulling me back under the covers.

Jaxon Montgomery became my comfort.

My person.

And, God help me, I was starting to crave him in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with feeling safe with him.

Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t take full advantage of the other part too.

The second we got back to campus, he had me right where he wanted me—back in his bed, wearing nothing but his jersey, giving him the uninterrupted replay of his favorite Christmas gift.

It was the hottest thing I’ve ever done, and the way he looked at me that night? The way he touched me, like he was memorizing every inch of my skin?

Yeah, I’d be thinking about that forever.

Now, back at school, the energy on campus is electric. The championship game is just two weeks away, and everyone knows what’s at stake. The team is locked in, focused, and there’s no room for any distractions.

But tonight?

Tonight, the football house is throwing one last party—a final hoorah before the season ends and everything gets serious.

Lyla and I are getting ready in our apartment, music blasting as we sort through our closets.

‘I cannot believe you pulled off a B in math,’ Lyla says, tossing a top at me from across the room. ‘Honestly, if Jaxon wasn’t so hot, I’d be annoyed at him for being good at literally everything.’

I snort, pulling the top over my head. ‘Hey, I did the work. He just helped.’

She smirks, giving me a look. ‘Mmm. Pretty sure that boy would do anything for you, Maddy.’

My stomach flips, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I roll my eyes. ‘Are you gonna finish getting ready, or are you just here to narrate my life?’

She laughs, slipping on her heels. ‘Both. Always both.’

By the time we finish, I check my reflection in the mirror and blink.

I actually look…good.

My top is just the right amount of fitted, my jeans hug me in all the right places, and for once, I don’t feel the need to hide under layers of oversized clothing.

And if Jaxon’s reaction is anything like I think it’s going to be?

Well, that’ll make it even better.

The football house is packed, bass shaking the walls, bodies pressed together, the celebration in full swing.

I barely have a second to take it in, though, before I feel him, my head turning and finding him instantly.

Jaxon moves through the crowd like a force of nature, his eyes locked on me, his body tensed, like he’s holding himself back from closing the distance too quickly.

And goddamn, he looks good.

His dark hoodie hangs loose over his broad frame, but the way his jeans sit on his hips is absolutely unfair. His hair is still damp from his post-practice shower, tousled in a way that makes me want to run my fingers through it, and when he smirks?

I swear, my knees almost give out.

He doesn’t stop as he walks straight to me, reaching for my body the second he’s close enough, pulling me into him, his hands warm as they grip my waist. He claims my mouth, his kiss deep and possessive, like he wants everyone in this damn house to see I’m his.

I melt against him, my fingers twisting into the fabric of his hoodie, my body pressing fully into his as his hands tighten.

The noise around us disappears. There’s no crowd, music, or flashing lights.

There’s only us.

‘Alright, alright, save some of that for later.’ I barely pull back in time to see Carter grinning at us, shaking his head as he takes a sip of his beer.

Jaxon just chuckles, pressing one last kiss to the corner of my mouth before turning to him. ‘What do you want, man?’

Carter grins. ‘We’re starting a game in the living room. Lyla’s already in, so you two don’t really have a choice.’

I glance over to see Lyla already sitting cross-legged on the floor, smirking at me, like she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Jaxon raises a brow at me. ‘You in?’

I exhale, pretending to consider it. ‘I mean, do I really want to expose my deepest secrets in front of a bunch of drunk people?’

Lyla yells from across the room. ‘Yes!’

I groan while Jaxon laughs, his fingers slipping through mine as he tugs me forward. ‘Come on, baby. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Shaking my head, I follow behind him, sitting on his lap once we reach the couch. The circle is full, laughter and teasing bouncing around the room as the game kicks off. One of the guys from the offensive line goes first, smirking as he holds up his drink.

‘Never have I ever…gotten kicked out of a bar.’

A handful of people groan before drinking, including Carter, who grins like it’s a badge of honor.

Lyla nudges me. ‘Remind me to tell you about the time Carter got banned from O’Malley’s for trying to steal a bartender’s cowboy hat.’

I snort, but before I can reply, another guy—one of the linebackers—leans forward, his smirk downright devious as he glances toward Carter. ‘Never have I ever hooked up with my coach’s daughter.’

My brows shoot up as Carter swears under his breath and takes a drink. My attention snaps to my best friend, who is actually blushing right now.

“I thought you said it was a one-time thing?” I whisper, half-gaping at her.

“Well…” Lyla takes another long drink. “Plans changed. I’ll explain later.”

I narrow my eyes, but before I can demand an answer, someone else speaks up. ‘Alright, I got one.’

The voice is smug, full of amusement, and when I look over, I recognize the guy instantly—he’s on defense, one of Jaxon’s teammates. I don’t like the way he’s smirking at my boyfriend.

‘Never have I ever transferred colleges for a girl.’

Jaxon freezes. His jaw locks, his fingers tightening around his drink. Without a word, he lifts his cup and takes a slow sip.

I don’t even feel myself tense at first, don’t realize I’m gripping my own cup too tightly until it pops, sloshing some of the liquid out.

What?

I whip my head toward him, my stomach twisting in confusion, but he doesn’t look at me. He just keeps his eyes trained ahead, his expression unreadable.

The tension in the room is thick, but before I can even open my mouth to ask him what the hell that was about, another voice chimes in⁠—

And the second I hear it, my stomach drops.

‘Never have I ever had sex.’

I know exactly who said it before I even look. Logan Brooks, the junior wide receiver who got bumped out of his starting position after Jax transferred. He also just so happens to be a grade A dick, if the rumors around campus are to be believed.

Carter’s shooting daggers across the circle at Logan, and Jaxon stiffens beside me, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t drink.

The guy laughs, shaking his head. ‘Come on, man. You really expect us to believe that?’

Jaxon still doesn’t move, but his body is coiled tight under me, his free hand curling into a fist.

The guy just grins. ‘I mean, you hadn’t a couple of months ago, but you’re really trying to say you’ve changed that fast?‘

Jaxon’s grip on his drink tightens, his entire body going rigid. ‘Things change.’ His voice is low, sharp.

“So you fucked her, only to leave in a few months if you get drafted? What a gentleman.” Logan laughs. “I hope you told her you’ll most likely be moving across the country before ditching your clothes.”

The air in the room shifts.

Logan barely has time to blink before Carter lunges, shoving him hard enough that his drink sloshes over his hand. ‘You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?’

Logan stumbles back with a laugh, holding up his hands like he’s innocent. ‘What? Just making conversation.’

Carter seethes. ‘You know exactly what you’re doing, asshole.’

Logan shrugs, still grinning. ‘What? Thought the golden boy could handle a little locker room talk.’

Carter swings. Before he can land the punch, Lyla grabs his arm, yanking him back with more strength than her tiny frame should be capable of.

‘Jesus, Carter!’ she grunts, trying to pull him away before he does something that gets them all in trouble.

Carter struggles, his chest heaving, his jaw tight. ‘He deserves to get his ass kicked!’

Lyla groans, her fingers digging into his arm. ‘Not arguing that. Just not right here.’

Logan just smirks, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his beer. ‘Relax, Hayes. Not my fault the kid finally grew a pair.’

Carter lunges again, but Lyla yanks harder, this time dragging him fully back. ‘Enough!’

He growls, his fists still clenched, his body rigid as he watches Logan with pure disgust. Carter glares for another beat, breathing hard, before finally stepping back.

But not before pointing a finger at Logan. ‘Watch your mouth, or I will shut it for you.’

With that, he turns on his heel, storming off toward the kitchen, Lyla hot on his heels.

I feel it before I fully understand it. I feel my stomach twist, feel my throat tighten, feel panic creep into my limbs like wildfire.

My pulse pounds in my ears, and before I even realize I’m moving, I’m on my feet.

I mumble something—an excuse, a lie, a half-hearted attempt at pretending like my chest isn’t tightening so much, it hurts.

I push through the crowd, through the throng of bodies pressing in on all sides, through the noise, the laughter, the music.

I bolt.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

I don’t understand why this is making me spiral.

‘Mads, wait!’

Jaxon’s voice is urgent, sharp with something I don’t have the capacity to unpack right now.

I push forward, almost making it to the front door before I feel him behind me. His presence is impossible to ignore, his hands gripping my wrist, pulling me back just enough to stop me from leaving.

‘Madison.’

My name is a plea on his lips, but I don’t know if I can handle hearing what he has to say.