Chapter 63: Logan

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"New guy..." Kade grinned widely at me while we boarded our plane from Seattle to Tucson, with a glint in his brown eyes that instilled zero trust in me. "You should sit next to Darrius."

Apparently, the team had a contract with Southwest Airlines, which I wouldn't have cared about except for the boarding setup. We were all assigned group C seats, although while we watched the boarding process, I realized very quickly that group A was the coaching staff and first class passengers, group B were families and military passengers, and group C us college football players.

Group boarding also meant the plane had zero assigned seats. The other guys who lined up at the gate obviously knew this before I caught on and ended up at the end of the boarding line.

"Again?" I replied dryly to Kade and figured the guys wanted a more than slightly uncomfortable plane trip inflicted on me, while two of the largest guys on the team sat next to each other for another three more hours. "Think I'll sit next to Wes. The rest of you have given me enough shit for one trip."

I meant those words, since my peaceful silence about Ellie lasted about a block away from Huskies Stadium. Once the bus pulled onto the highway, I'd been bombarded with questions about what we were and how she was my girlfriend.

My ego loved every comment and incredulous look from the single guys on the bus and the older version of me would've gloated or teased them about their lack of game. But I was more than aware of how Darrius on my left and Wes in front of me clenched their jaws at any mention of Ellie. Not that I feared either of them but they were Ellie's friends and my respect for them grew the more I'd gotten to know them.

Within a few minutes' drive, the entire front of the bus erupted in loud, hearty laughter and a few fingers pointed out the windows on the east side.

"Shit," I cursed and palmed my forehead once I realized which exit on I-5 we'd passed.

"Priceless."

"Fucking hilarious!"

"Check out those washboards!"

Taunts and laughs trailed down the bus aisle like waves of water flooded onto the bus and I groaned when a few guys pulled out their phones, rushed to the right side windows, and captured my more-than-life-sized embarrassment.

Against my better judgment, one of the promotional pictures taken during training camp had involved me wearing, of all things, a light gray crop-top T-shirt. What little of my torso was covered, basically my shoulders and nipples, was practically strangled from the shirt's suffocatingly tight fit. Afterwards, I was surprised that the 'stylist,' a loose term since that lady's taste involved any sense of style, hadn't needed to cut it off me.

To make the pictures more embarrassing, the photographer's assistant dumped a bottle of water on me, both so I looked like I'd sweated around my collar but also over my abs... which, in the new billboard picture, had also been more than generously airbrushed.

"Nice ten-pack." Darrius shook both our seats from how hard he laughed. "That even physically possible?"

Beyond embarrassing.

"Wouldn't know." I glared down at his stomach bulges. "Yours is more of a keg."

Before Darrius added a response to the murderous glare he shot me, the rest of the bus wasn't done with their unsolicited comments. "Looking good LT!" Reese Matthews, my tight end, snorted which I just returned with my own middle finger gesture.

"Number ten in our programs, number one in our hearts!" Wes faked a swoon at the caption. "I'm glad Emmitt and I aren't in that shit."

Wes' reminder stirred flickers of annoyance inside me. Thankfully, laughing at my expense and sharing my billboard picture online provided more than enough entertainment for almost the entire bus until we reached SeaTac airport.

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