All Chapters of The Rogue Next Door: Chapter 131 - Chapter 139

ColeGetting called into Coach Daniels’s office without an explanation is never good.I know this because I’ve spent three years perfecting the art of figuring out exactly how pissed he is based on the way he says my name.Ryder means normal.Cole means concerned.Get your ass in my office means start reviewing every bad decision you’ve made since birth.Today I get a text.Coach: Office. After class.No punctuation beyond the period.Could go either way.By the time I walk into the athletic building that afternoon, I’ve convinced myself this is about Saturday’s game. We won, but I missed two reads in the second quarter, held the ball too long on a third down, and nearly threw a pick because I got impatient.Coach notices everything.Unfortunately.I knock once.“Come in.”He’s sitting behind his desk with another man beside him.I recognize the guy.And my stomach immediately drops.NFL scout.He was at Saturday’s game.Well.Fuck.“Sit down, Ryder.”I sit.Coach folds his hands on t

MayaThere is one tiny detail Cole neglected to consider while celebrating my fellowship finalist email like I’d already won the damn thing.I have to interview for it.In front of five people.Who will apparently sit behind a table and decide whether I am impressive enough to deserve thousands of dollars.I would rather be hit by a bus.“I’m withdrawing.”Cole looks up from my laptop.“No.”We’re sitting at the kitchen table the following evening because somehow my fellowship application has become a group project. Bree is across from me with a bowl of popcorn, Logan is making a sandwich at the counter, and Cole has appointed himself my personal interview coach despite having absolutely no qualifications for the position.“I wasn’t asking permission.”“Good, because you don’t have it.”I glare at him. “This is my fellowship.”“And you’re not withdrawing.”Bree throws popcorn into her mouth. “I agree with Football Ken.”Cole looks offended. “Football Ken?”“Would you prefer Quarterbac

ColeThere are seven NFL scouts sitting somewhere behind our bench.I know this because Jake has counted them four fucking times.“Seven.”“I heard you the first three times.”He adjusts his gloves. “Could be eight.”“Jake.”“What?”“Stop looking.”“I’m not nervous.”“You’ve counted professional scouts four times.”He stares toward the stands again.“Definitely seven.”I shove his helmet.“Get your head in the game.”Easy advice considering my own stomach feels like somebody tied it into a knot.This is it.Not the draft. Not some guaranteed million-dollar contract. Nothing that dramatic.But Coach made it pretty damn clear yesterday that tonight matters.Win this game and we’re playing for the conference championship.Play well in front of the men sitting behind us and my name moves higher on some very important lists.No pressure.The stadium is packed, the student section already losing its mind while music pounds through the speakers. I jog toward the sideline after warmups and gl

MayaNobody tells you when you start college that eventually there will be a last version of everything.Not necessarily the actual last time, because technically we still have classes, football games, work shifts, and enough assignments left to destroy several forests. But lately there’s this strange feeling hanging over everything, like we’ve all suddenly realized this ridiculous life isn’t permanent.Which is probably why there are fourteen people in the football house kitchen on a Thursday night arguing about pizza.“I said pepperoni.”“You ordered three pepperoni.”“Exactly.”Jake stares at Bree like she’s mentally deficient.Bree stares back.“There are vegetables on exactly one pizza.”“Football players don’t eat vegetables.”Markus looks up from his phone. “I eat vegetables.”Jake points at him. “Potatoes don’t count.”“They absolutely count.”“They’re starch.”“Who the fuck invited the nutritionist?”I’m laughing when Cole walks up behind me and hooks an arm around my waist.

MayaThree Years Later“Cole, if that football hits my flowers, I swear to God I’m divorcing you before we’re even married.”The backyard goes quiet.Seven grown men stare at me.Cole slowly lowers the football.“We’re not married yet.”“I know. Imagine how embarrassing that’ll be for you.”Jake nearly falls out of his chair laughing.“Holy shit. She’s still mean to him.”“Still?” Bree asks from beside me. “She’s gotten worse.”“I have not.”“You threatened to cancel a wedding over hydrangeas.”“They’re new hydrangeas.”“That somehow makes it reasonable,” Logan says.“Thank you.”Cole points at him. “Why are you still on her side?”Logan takes a drink. “Three years of consistency.”Some things never change.Apparently, neither do these people.Our backyard is full of them. Jake and Markus flew in yesterday. Bree arrived this morning with enough luggage to suggest she plans on moving in. Logan came down between games, and several of Cole’s current teammates are scattered around the poo