I chased a runners' high when I hosted parties.

I had our table set for 17 (against my wishful thinking) with napkins artfully tied with twine and name cards on top of every plate, as well as any and all of the premade food in serving dishes lined up in an assembly line (circle) on the table, all before the early birds arrived. The skillet on the stove was primed for the carne asada I'd sliced up and seasoned that morning. All the party prep shot a type of adrenaline through me that I assumed was similar to how the guys felt as they prepped for a game, and I knew enough about all of that to know that feeling was almost addicting.

I wore a plain black cotton maxi dress so I could still look put together but comfortable, but the thigh-high slit made me feel a little more girly and a little less like Slenderman.

"Where do you want this?" Bree's girlfriend Lana asked me, holding out a tray of homemade rice krispies.

Derek didn't like cake, so I'd done my best to not take it personally and have a few people bring trays of smaller desserts. The problem with that was those trays took up more space - space I'd assumed we had more of in our kitchen.

"Uh..." I darted between counters like a moth trapped behind glass, stacking tupperware and moving cups of plastic utensils. "Right here."

Lana put the tray down where it just barely fit in the space I'd cleared for it. She tied her deep ginger red hair up into a ponytail as she surveyed the state of our too-small-to-host-dinner-parties kitchen.

"I don't know how you do this," she said with a shake of her head. "It must come so naturally to you."

I offered her a thin smile. "I say the same thing whenever Bree shows me the comics you draw. We've all got our thing, right?"

Lana chuckled and gave me a playful shove in the arm. "I think your thing also includes always knowing what to say."

She gave me another smile before walking out of the kitchen, leaving me with a quiet moment to let her words settle in. I thought back to my argument with Reid, and even though I knew he'd been in the wrong, I still went over the things I'd actually said to him, wondering if I could have said something differently to prevent this awkward standoff we were now at. More often than not lately, especially with Reid, I'd been letting my emotions drive my words, and the friction between us was starting to give off sparks. And where there were sparks, a fire could start at any moment.

I'd switched my music on just as people were starting to arrive. I made sure to give Derek a plastic tiara that said Birthday Princess, and he wore it with a big, toothy grin. Bree made me a lethal espresso martini with her barista skills, and I housed it. I could have taken an IV of it straight to my veins.

Mara was in Florida visiting her cousins, and she seemed almost despondent that she was missing this party. Kayla had made the drive from Charlotte, where she'd finally started her job at the ACC Network as a social media assistant. Except according to her, she'd been doing a lot of assistant-ing and not a lot of social media-ing.

"I needed a fucking break from getting my boss his disgusting matcha latte twice a day. Besides, anything for Derek," she said with a grin as she stood beside me to survey the scene in my apartment. I noticed her side-eying me as I took a sip of my second espressi. "Is Reid coming?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" I groaned. "I'm not his keeper."

Kayla shot me a puzzled look. "Well, one of the placecards at the table has his name on it, so..."

I didn't have an opportunity to respond as Derek tackled me into a hug, belting out the lyrics to the Lit song that came blasting through our bluetooth speaker. I grinned and joined in almost immediately.

Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk?

I didn't mean to call you that

I can't remember what was said, or what you threw at me

Please tell me

"I told you I trusted you with the music," he said with a grin, arm still draped over my shoulder. "Thanks for this, by the way. You really are the hostess with the mostest."

He gestured out with a beer in his hand to my little apartment, where our closest friends were drinking and laughing and enjoying each other's company in a way we might not be able to once the school year and football season kicked into gear.

"Don't thank me," I waved him off. "Hosting fulfills my love language."

Derek scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You say that to me as if I don't know you at all, but I know better. You just don't want people to know what a big softie you are. You are one of the least selfish people I know, and you love making other people happy." He nudged me in the side. "You're good peeps, Josephine Lawrence."

Despite how right Derek probably was (at least about the softie part), it was not the day (or week, or month) for introspection. I shot him an amused smirk as I folded my arms over my chest. "Alright Derek, I'll humor you just because you're the birthday boy."

My Own Worst Enemy was one of those songs that everyone knew, and by the time the second chorus kicked in, everyone was chiming in.

Please tell me why

My car is in the front yard

And I'm sleeping with my clothes on

I came in through the window last night

And you're long gone, gone

Just as our impromptu karaoke session had ended, the door knocked again. Between the music, the drinking, and the seamless intermingling, I'd not taken enough stock of the people already there to realize that there was only one other person that could have been at the door. So when I opened it to see Reid and JJ standing there, my jaw fell open of its own accord.

"Hi?" My greeting came out more like a question. Reid dropped his gaze to his crisp white Nikes, and locks of hair fell onto his forehead in a way that was frustratingly, effortlessly graceful. The light from the hallway cast a faint glow around him.

"Hi!" I'd been gawking in shock and awe that I'd almost forgotten JJ had been standing there until he beamed at me, pulling me into a one-armed hug and kissing my cheek before making his way into my apartment as if he'd been there a thousand times already. I hadn't even directly invited him, but I was an idiot to think that Reid would have gone to any kind of social event on his own. Reid was an iPhone with a bad battery, and JJ was his charger.

Reid remained in the doorway, hands jammed in the pockets of his dark gray chino shorts. He wore a white short sleeve button-up dotted with a pattern of little palm trees and tigers, its top two buttons undone. "Hi," he finally said in a breathy voice.

"Hi," I echoed, able to reign myself in now that the initial shock had worn off. I stepped aside to let him in, and when he brushed by me, the woodsy scent of his cologne washed over me.

"Uh...you look great," he blurted out, standing stiff with his hands still in his pockets. Thank god, because I didn't trust my resolve with him showing up looking the way he did if he had reached out to touch me. Maybe he didn't trust his either.

"You...clean up decently," I told him with a curt nod.

That got a chuckle out of him. "Yeah, well I can't exactly wear joggers and a hoodie when JJ shows up looking like that."

I followed Reid's gaze to where JJ had found Derek, playfully jostling him before pulling him into a bro hug. JJ wore an oversized black denim vest and matching black jeans with two silver chains hanging from a belt, looking like he was ready for New York Fashion Week instead of his college teammate's birthday party in some girl's average apartment.

"JJ should just quit football and get into fashion," I remarked.

"If he wasn't my best receiver, I'd be inclined to agree."

I turned my gaze back to Reid, who's cheeks had flushed red. I'd learned by now he was a blusher, and it was too endearing.

"Can...can we talk?" he asked, lowering his head to mine so he could speak in a low voice.

"Not right now." I took a very necessary step away from him. "It's not your party, and contrary to popular belief, not everything is about you."

He dropped his gaze again as he nodded. "Right."

He peeled away without giving me another glance, giving me some much needed breathing room. I had to actually put my hand to my chest to feel the rattling effects he had on my insides, otherwise I would have thought my body was just playing tricks on me. Externally I knew I could keep my cool tonight, but internally he'd struck a match across my heart, and somehow that frustrated me more than our actual fight had.

I'd told Kayla that I wasn't his keeper, and yet my incessant need to know where he was at all times seemed to contradict that. Reid wasn't exactly a social butterfly, and because I'm me, I felt responsible - despite the fact that I wasn't Reid's fucking keeper.

Thankfully it wasn't all that hard to keep track of a hulking sulking 6'5" guy throughout the night. He found an unoccupied chair and kept to himself with the exception of when JJ would engage with him. He caught a few stray glances from some of the special teams players that were friends with Derek, wondering what their elusive, esteemed captain was doing in a place like this.

When it was time for me to cook the steak, I welcomed the necessary distraction. They were thin, small pieces so the cooking time in the skillet was short, and I had to keep my attention on them. Just a few seconds was all it took to go from a juicy medium-rare to a dry, gross well-done.

Kayla joined me at the stove and pressed her side against mine. "Alright, what did you two fight about?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked with a weary sigh as I flipped a few pieces of steak in the skillet.

"You and Reid avoiding each other like two negative ends of a magnet," Kayla replied casually, peering over my shoulder at my cooking. "So what did you two fight about?"

"Nothing," I scoffed. "It's just Reid being Reid. I don't know why I'm even surprised."

Kayla gently bumped her hip into mine. "And suddenly you're not equipped to handle that?"

"I am." I kept my gaze fixed on my stove, because no matter what I refused to burn food. "I mean, I can."

"Then you'll figure it out." Kayla draped her arms over my shoulders to give me a quick hug from behind.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, now get out of my kitchen." I shooed her away with my tongs, and she giggled and skipped away.

I had a big metal serving tray for the steak, and just as I turned away from the stove to grab the tray, I spun right into what felt like a tree.

Reid.

"Woah." He held up his hands, one corner of his mouth lifted into a guilty smirk. "You okay?"

When I scowled, so did he.

"Jo, can we just-"

I put a hand to his chest to stop him. "I don't like people in my kitchen as it is, and you practically take up the space of two people."

Figuring it out according to Kayla would be hearing Reid out and accepting what I had to assume was some kind of apology. But tonight was not about Reid, and I had other responsibilities. Plus, there was no harm in putting him on ice and making him sweat a little.

"Okay, sorry," he sighed out, sidestepping me as I grabbed the serving tray for the steak.

I'd been so preoccupied with cooking and corralling everyone when things were ready to be served, I'd forgotten yet another inconvenient detail that my wishful thinking self was responsible for, and I wanted to strangle her for putting Reid across from me at the table. As soon as he sat down, his knees bumped up against mine, and I shot him a look.

"Sorry," he grumbled to me. "My legs don't exactly fit under this table."

I blew out a resigned sigh. There was nothing I could have done except fall on my sword. I'd put him there, and I knew he took up space, intentionally or not.

"Speech, speech," Derek's roommate Johnny called out when we were all seated.

I'd put Derek at the head of the table, and he stood up with his drink raised. He started talking, but my attention was torn away when someone's shoe grazed the side of my sandal-clad foot.

I knew it was his foot - it was too big to be anyone else's. Before I had time to react, the sound of my name pulled my attention back to Derek.

"Jo, thanks for being my only friend that not only knows how to cook, but is willing to cook for a bunch of degenerate football players." That got a collective chuckle out of everyone.

I did my best to keep my eyes on Derek, giving him a thin smile despite the fact that I had a size 13 Nike grazing my ankle - repeatedly.

When I was able to cast a sideways glance back towards Reid, he wasn't even looking at me, his expression stone cold.

After the toasts, he did it again, this time letting the toe of his sneaker work its way up my ankle and to my shin. I thought back to what Kayla said earlier about how I'd figure out whatever was going on with us and make things okay, but the only thing I was figuring out right now was how to impale Reid on the table and make it look like an accident.

When everyone else seemed preoccupied enough with their food and conversations, I leaned forward and hissed at him through my teeth. "What are you doing?"

Reid shrugged. "I'm literally just sitting here."

I was almost inclined to believe him, but when he looked away from me, the tiniest smirk tugged at his lips. Reid might have been the hot-shot athlete, but he wasn't the only one who could play games.

I slid my sandal off and brushed my foot up his ankle and gently across his calf. He shifted forward in his chair almost imperceptibly, dropping his gaze down into his lap to hide his smirk.

Unfortunately, there was one thing Reid had that I didn't - reach. Somehow he was able to wrap his foot around the leg of my chair and pull me forward until my chest was nearly pressed against the table. He then wrapped his feet around my ankles, effectively trapping my legs in between his, tangled together in a knot of knees and thighs and skin. He had me beaten, and he knew it as he sat back in his chair with a contented sigh.

"You're a good cook, Jo," he told me with a shit-eating grin.

I folded my arms over my chest with a groan, rolling my eyes so deeply I was surprised I couldn't see backwards into my brain. "Thanks, I guess."

The fact that nobody had witnessed it was astounding, but I'd learned that most people don't pay nearly as much attention to you as you think they do. And yet somehow, in a party full of people, the only attention we had was each other's, and the look he gave me across the table made me want to put my heart into a blender.

━━━━━━

them them them them them. that's all, that's the author's note.