Chapter 37: Colton

"Dude, what the hell is up with you?" Beck mutters, barely glancing away from the seventy-inch television and the video game he's in the middle of.

"Nothing." I swing around, pacing to the other side of the living room.

He snorts but stays laser-focused on the combat game unfolding on the screen. Gunfire erupts from the surround sound in a spurt of noise. "Whatever you say, man. Got practice today at three."

Fuck.

My head is too full of Alyssa and the British prick that came out of nowhere for me concentrate on anything else. I might as well plant my ass on the bench now because it's doubtful I'll see the playing field anytime soon.

Here's the way I see my day unfolding-stew about Alyssa for a couple of hours, head to practice, more than likely fumble a few plays, get my ass chewed out again by coach, and end it all by feeling like complete asshole.

I drag my fingers through my hair.

It's been more than twenty-four hours since that dude showed up at her door. After dumping the co