I'd never been a fan of crowds, and given the choice I usually avoided them.

Turns out I'd somehow forgotten that fact when I'd agreed to come to a College football game. It was officially an introverts worst nightmare.

A living hell; feeling too hot, bumping into unknown bodies, spilled drinks and the cacophony of different shouts and smells; more unfortunately body odour or smoke.

Ella was in her element, leading me by the hand, gliding through the boisterous, vivacious crowd. An undeniable swagger in her gate, probably encouraged by the fact her and Marcus had agreed they were exclusively together. She wasn't just a girl at the football game, she was the girlfriend of a Michigan player.

It wasn't the time to start dwelling on the exclusive agreement I had with a certain Michigan player myself, it was hardly the same thing.

It was a churning, bustling sea of navy and yellow, several people walked around with wolverine masks chanting like it was a religious ceremony. I suppose it was in a way, an American institution, the players herculean and godlike.

Despite my discomfort in the raucous atmosphere, I couldn't help but smile at the Dad with his little boy held up on his shoulders. The obvious wonder, with the widest smile that lifted his chubby cheeks, missing baby teeth and all.

"Four beers please!" Ella, on her tiptoes, shouts to the guy behind the counter before turning towards me.

"There are two of us."

"With queues like these it's best to double fist it." She shrugs like a professional. "How long do you think you're going to be able to avoid my questions?"

"Until the angry vein in your forehead pops up probably."

"Oh believe me, after days and an intolerable four hour bus journey, I'm surprised it's not ruptured!"

"If I remember correctly you didn't tell me when you slept with Marcus for the first time." I pin her with a look, ample with accusation.

Carter opening the door of our apartment and revealing a wide eyed Ella rooting through her handbag for her keys was not the ideal scenario; yet it had happened. She'd not stopped asking me about it since. Gone was her promise to stop asking questions, she blamed it on the fact she was a Scorpio, whatever that meant.

She nibbles her bottom lip for a minute, caught out by the undeniable truth. She raises her hands in surrender.

"Touché. But Lou, he was in our apartment! With you! Alone! You both had sex hair! I'm going to end up in a psych ward if I never find out what's going on between you two."

The server chooses that moment to pass over our beers, his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. God, these guys probably overhear so many things.

"Erm, thanks." I accept the sloshing plastic pint cups and wait for Ella to do the same. Once she's retrieved her drinks she starts to lead us towards the gates for seating. Waiting a heartbeat before continuing in a stage whisper, our voices lost in the crowd now.

"Please tell me."

"It's embarrassing." Her mouth opens melodramatically.

"Number one. I'm struggling to find out what could be embarrassing about seeing Carter Hughes naked." Her eyes almost bug out of her head as she says it, earning a giggle from me.

She's not wrong. He was nothing short of glorious. I'd never seen him fully naked, he'd always been partially clothed. The thought of pressing up against him, nothing between us but skin; it was enough to make my neck flush.

"Number two. I am your best friend and nothing, and I mean nothing, you say should be embarrassing. I'd never judge you Lou." I can't help but smile at that, feeling warmth spread in my chest at the fact I'd somehow managed to not push her away. She was so damn persistent.

Polar opposites that had drawn together like magnets. North and South.

I can't keep hiding this from her, it felt like I was avoiding acknowledging that it was real.

Despite the repetitive use of the word casual, the intimate experiences I'd shared with Carter were anything but. They were cataclysmic. Altering me, my body, my memories forever. I couldn't take back what we'd done. I didn't want to.

I'd never felt more beautiful than when he kissed me, like he couldn't help it.

It's not the kisses that make me feel like I could melt, where we're climbing each other and my thighs churn; it's the kisses that are sweet and soft. A simple press of our lips, not because it's leading towards anything, just simply, because.

"Pushing people away, hiding your feelings and coping on your own seems easier at first. However, time will go on around you Lou. The world doesn't slow down, it spins; making us dizzy and vulnerable. One day, I couldn't say when, but one day you'll feel different; you'll want to step out from that cave you're hiding in, wouldn't you want some people there, waiting for you?"

My therapists piano-like voice twinkled in the back of my head. Her words dancing through my consciousness like leaves on the wind. I knew that's what I was doing, trying to bury my head in the sand and avoid letting Ella in.

Plus, the likelihood of him being in our apartment again was too high. We'd agreed that our 'friendship' was going to continue.

He was growing frustratingly under my skin.

With every wide unrestrained smile that revealed his white teeth and the boyish dimple in his cheek.

"We're... sex friends?" I don't mean for it to come out like a question. I didn't know how to explain that I'd proposed he teach me about sex.

Ella takes a moment to compose herself before asking her next question.

"Have you had sex with him?"

"No. But we've done... stuff." The thought of actually doing the deed with him, removing the final barrier between us, it was too much to comprehend right now.

When he'd used his hand on me earlier that week, it had felt ridiculously good. To be truthful, there wasn't a good enough adjective to describe how it had felt. His eyes had been glued to me the whole time, eyes black with desire. For me.

"And it's casual? Like you're just doing... stuff, together?" She halts as she spots the turnstiles we need to pass through for our section.

I'd been so lost in our conversation that I hadn't paused to take in the scenery. The field, pristine and prepared for the spectacle ahead. The place was full to the brim, I could feel rumblings beneath my feet that spread up my entire body. Adrenaline coursed through me as I looked around. Thousands of people were dependant on the outcome of those men, hidden in their changing rooms. Not just that, but the media were out in force, cameras covered every angle. God, the pressure of it all.

It was hard to miss the amount of people wearing Hughes jerseys, they were everywhere. Number three. His number. Stamped on the back of jerseys, high up on foam fingers, even painted on people's faces.

"Wow, Ella these seats are amazing." We were so close to the action.

"Only the best for my girlfriend. Marcus's words, not mine." She beams. "So, my question?"

"Oh, erm, yes. It's very casual. It's what I want. With my college work and how busy we both are; that and the fact our futures outside of College are about as different as it gets." I hear the speech with my own ears, I sound calm as I repeat the words I'd had to remind myself with every time I saw him.

"Is he- well, how can I put this- is he still being Carter?" Her meaning was obvious. Was he still being Carter, playboy extraordinaire, causer of many great sorority cat fights.

"We agreed not to do anything with anyone else." She nods slowly, chewing over the information I'd given her.

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

"I'm happy."

"You do seem different, you're glowing again." She grins and turns towards the field, sipping her drink.

You're glowing again.

*

I don't think I could close my mouth if I tried. It had dropped open ever since the announcer called out Michigan's entrance and the team had stormed onto the field with the ferocity of caged beasts.

The ground shook, people screamed like banshees around us. This was an away game; yet it felt like the entire population of Ann Arbor were here.

My eyes tracked the number three like a target missile. Even in his helmet I could recognise him by the way he moved; like a tiger, predatory power all honed into impressive agility.

God, I'd be mortified if he could see that my eyes hadn't left him since kick off, I wasn't even following the game. My brothers would kill me if they knew, throwing away the chance to watch this game from such incredible seats because I was too busy staring at the quarterback's ass.

What the fuck? Did he just look at me?

No. That is so ridiculous. There are so many people here, it's purely by chance that his head had scanned towards us.

"Carter keeps looking up here." Ella says suggestively.

"How could he possibly know we're sat here, there are thousands of girls here." Many of which were wearing his jersey, which for the life of me I was trying to ignore.

"Marcus told him which ones we'd be in dummy." She nudges me with her elbow playfully.

Sure enough, when I look back to the field, his helmet is facing towards us again.

At half time the wolverines are winning 24-10, we wandered out for more drinks and something to eat.

Tipsy and zigzagging back to our seats, Ella scream-giggles whilst grabbing my arm and starting to pull me towards a tent. I catch sight of the sign outside seconds before we've breached the entrance and the ladies smiling at our abrupt and giggling entrance is too much for me to slam on the breaks now.

Looks like I'm getting my face painted.

*

It's the fourth quarter and we're buzzed; I also think I've been officially converted to a football fan. The atmosphere has amped up impossibly as the teams score crept closer together.

If Carter didn't get into the NFL, I'd eat every single foam finger in the fucking stadium.

No wonder he wanted me to come and watch him play so badly, his form was perfect, his skill and ability find an impossible pass. No wonder his arms were so muscular, he threw the ball practically the length of the field.

"This is so fucking silly." I hiccup-laugh, sipping the draught beer as Ella dances in her seat, officially thrilled with herself.

I have the number 3 on my cheek, yellow outlined with navy in bold face paint. Ella has number 12, Marcus's number on hers.

"It's hilarious."

"You do realise that you're his girlfriend, and that makes it totally appropriate, cute even, for you to have his number on your face. I'm just the weird sex friend who got carried away. He'll be totally creeped out."

That's me, Creepy McCreeperson.

"The amount of times he's looked over here begs to differ."

A sharp whistle turns both of our attention back to the field. The exact moment that two opposition players body slam Carter to the ground.

Time slows as outrage and bellowing rings out through the stadium, the opposition players rising slowly to stand.

Carter doesn't get back up.