I Hate Football Players

3: Brotherly Love

Like always, I had no answer for the stubborn burning in his eyes. Harper did though, tipping her head back with a humorless laugh. "The fuck was that ape chest beating shit, Jake? Hi, by the way."

"Reynolds," he replied coolly as his eyes flicked sideways and skimmed over her appearance.

Sometimes, he took his big-brother overprotection too far. Growing up, we traded off our share of fairness complexes. Jake hated when I achieved higher grades than him. Physically, in junior high, he grew two feet, his acne cleared, his braces came out, and football called. I hadn't yet experienced the same growth spurt in the height or looks departments.

Still waiting.

Jake's eyes inspected me, the hardness in them softening. "Ellie, what happened?"

I lifted a finger at Harper. "She made me drink the whole damn ocean while paddleboarding." The words clenched my stomach, and an air bubble lodged up my throat. Thankfully, all I released was a loud burp that rivaled his friends' belching competitions.

"Paddleboarding? You're the most uncoordinated person I know." Jake tossed his head back and laughed maniacally. I glared at him since my mouth burned with acid.

"You'll be alright as long as you stay away from those Salesian tools." His eyes lifted over my head, followed by his chin. "I'm glad I found you. Not for that, but I'm going to a party tonight."

"Ugh, Jake. Really?" My glare intensified since I knew what this meant. Parties, at least the ones Jake attended, weren't a good idea but especially not now. "Right before the season starts?"

"That's right." He jingled his keys as if that was a sufficient enough answer.

I loathed taking his drunk ass home, but interrupted sleep was better than his car wrapped around a tree or driven over a seaside cliff. "Once was already tiring."

"Supposed to be a lot of hot girls to smash." How was that a justification? His eyes darkened to the color of melted dark chocolate and he smirked at Harper. "Gotta get that in before camp."

"Let me guess." Venom laced her voice. "You're the manwhore to smash them?"

Jake shrugged. "They know what they're getting into, firecracker."

The corners of his mouth curled up when she scoffed. In a shining example of how they'd never share the same airspace without me between them, they glared at each other in a silent stare-off. I rolled my eyes and finished my water bottle. Cutting them off was on my tongue when her head turned and a scoff escaped her lips. "Bros before hoes."

I groaned at the mental image. Based on the girly, vanilla smell in his car, his massive grin, and 'bro-congratulations' from his friends the night I picked him up, he'd been with a girl. Only my brother and his ridiculous good looks got away with such bullshit. "Again, chivalry is dead."

Not all of the school's player rumors were true, but thankfully Jake never brought girls home. After his last girlfriend, I avoided all details about my brother's personal life. Of course, he did nothing to refute an inaccurate 'bad boy' reputation. And girls ate it up more than me with chocolate while PMSing. Guys at school either worshiped him or ran in the opposite direction. I'd never witnessed Jake beating up someone and knew how false rumors worked, so I turned a blind eye away from Santa Cruz's rumor mill.

The craziest rumor was that Jake and Harper were a thing. Best friend and brother, how cliché.

One look at their heated glares revealed the truth: they tolerated each other, for my sake. A shared trauma experience had that effect, tethering people who wouldn't normally be friends. Why couldn't they get along? Neither was leaving my life. Harper and I went back to 'us against middle school' friends, and most days I wished I didn't know Jake. Direct insight into his mind wasn't an advantage. Nope, anticlimactic. The male teenage brain typically operated one thought at a time, with most priorities driven by hormones and ego.