I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 95: Logan

Once Wes' hand slapped on my shoulder dragged me out of my inner mantra, I frowned the longer I studied Emmitt as he stood near the exit and clapped guys' hands and shoulders as they left the locker room. Yesterday's conversation from the alumni event replayed in my mind and I only had one reaction.

Is he really a decent guy?

What confused me most was Emmitt's initially player reaction, in particular his raunchy comments about Ellie, and whether he'd just tested me like he'd said he had. The guy had obvious feelings for her and what bothered me most was how he simultaneously raised red flags whenever he presented himself as possibly decent.

"Good luck, Logan," Emmitt greeted me with a slapped palm on top of my helmet and a wide grin.

"Wanna lead us out?" I grinned from behind my helmet cage. Within the first home game, I realized that who led out the team was also closest to the air cannons that fired at our entrance, as well as the thickest part of the popped purple smoke.

"Not yet, maybe a couple more games," he admitted as his grin dissolved. "Can't wait to see what you throw at USC though."

"Don't blink," I joked and slipped in my mouth guard.

Emmitt shook his head, then muttered something behind me that was under my hearing level but definitely included the words 'cocky ass.' I tossed aside any distracting thoughts about him and trotted out behind the team onto the night field to thunderous applause. Since I was the last one, I made quick work and warmed up with my usual receivers Wes and Seth.

I'd teased Seth all week about his failed attempts with Harper, which anyone could've seen a mile away. As with Ellie, he'd bruised his ego off and moved on like usual by how he mentioned he'd partied with Lydia after we'd left.

He can have her.

Thankfully, since the ESPN interview, I hadn't seen or heard a peep out of Lydia or Angel, or any other girl who'd pursued me earlier in the season. My social media had blown up with mostly positive comments about Ellie and me and I deleted and blocked the negative ones as they flowed in.

My eyes shifted across the field to Ellie's normal seat and a frown tensed my forehead at how stiffly she sat upright, the white number ten on her purple jersey brightly visible under the stadium lights, sandwiched between two USC maroon and gold number seven jerseys.

Looks like her parents made it.

Ellie's parents largely looked the same as they'd looked last time. Her dad sat with his arms crossed over his chest but his eyes fixated across the field. Once I followed their trajectory, I caught sight of number seven's warmups.

After we warmed up, I met Jake himself at center field under the dark navy sky that barely peeked out from behind the heavy, gray clouds overhead. I blinked under the harshness of the stadium lights that shone down like interrogation lamps. Under the blanket of voracious, amped-up Husky crowd noise, his deep voice greeted me first.

"Good luck, LT." He offered me a quick hand shake and a stiff-nodded squeeze of my palm in his, which I returned then exchanged with his co-captains.

After the usual quick coin toss announcement, Jake's called out "tails" was flipped upwards on the turf. Of course he elected that USC received first, so I picked that he started out in the western direction and looked into the more direct stadium lights in the second half when the sky was darker.

While the rest of the offensive team watched like spectators, I paced the sidelines, gripped my shoulder pads near the collar of my white jersey, and got stuck to the sidelines after an end over end kickoff started the Trojans on their twenty-yard line.