Colt
I’m tired. My ribs ache from the helmet I landed on during my last reception, and all I want to do is get home to Sam, who should be waiting for me since I gave her the garage code before the game. But two couples are blocking my path to the parking lot.
“Nice catch!” Elliot gushes, giving me a hug. That last reception ended up being the game-winning touchdown, and while I’m glad we won, I can’t say it was pretty. Things between Dante, Shane and I are still a little off. We haven’t spoken about the argument we had, and while that means things aren’t worse, they aren’t better. I don’t know if these guys really get where I’m coming from, and it’s hard not to let that bother me.
“Thanks,” I say gruffly, hugging her back before accepting a hug from Meghan.
“You could’ve just told us.”
