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think of how this could have happened while the marshal made small talk for
fear of voicing his suspicions. Right now that was all he had, a suspicion.
There was no proof his cousin had anything to do with this. “Too bad about the
playoffs this year, we were all hoping.”
    “There
was just no stopping San Francisco this year. Luck of the draw. We’ll get it
next year,” he replied absently while he zipped his jacket and buckled his
helmet. Time to go before the man started telling him everything he could have
done to win the game. He got way too much of that. Except at Levi’s house. He
didn’t have to talk about football at all or anything else for that matter. It
was refreshing. Sort of.
    He
knew the geek would be deep in some book when he went inside. He respected
Jude’s space when it came to his school work and Jude left him alone
completely. After a week of classes they’d fallen into a routine. Jude left
early and came home around five. He was only taking two courses but he was
doing something with a legal clinic. Will zoned out after the word “free”. And
for some reason the guy liked to cook. Will would stumble in from practice to
the scent of real food cooking; he tried not to remember a time when he’d actually
had home cooked food on an almost daily basis. He usually lived on take out and
cafeteria food at the practice facility.
    Will
tried to repay him by keeping the fridge stocked, since he was doing most of
the eating. Jude didn’t seem to eat that much. He didn’t work out either. But
he stayed slim.
    The
day was cold, colder than usual. Gray clouds gathered as the afternoon wore on.
Someone said there might be snow flurries. He snorted and the glass on his
helmet fogged up as Will crossed over Canal Street and headed to Royal.
    In
the four years he’d been in New Orleans it hadn’t snowed once. Not one single
flurry. But damn, it was cold enough. The leather jacket and jeans he wore
really didn’t protect him from the cold. After nearly three weeks he should
probably go out and buy new clothes; all he had left was in the one suitcase he
had with him when his house burned. Somehow he’d managed to put the loss from
his mind long enough to get through the last couple of games. But now, having
been in what was left of his house, there was no denying the sad reality.
Everything was gone. He’d have to rebuild. But maybe he didn’t want to.
Rebuilding meant he was staying. What if his contract wasn’t renewed? What
then? He had nowhere else to go.
    He
pulled into the alley behind Levi’s house and walked his bike in through the
gate. The kitchen light was on. He could smell something cooking. Walking into
the house was like walking into a wall of heat and kitchen humidity. Will had
to step back outside to catch his breath.
    “It’s
like a fucking sauna in here,” Will shouted to be heard over the radio. More
damned classical music. Didn’t the man like anything with guitars? Or even
words?
    “It
was freezing earlier.” Jude, dressed in nothing but a pair of black workout
pants with a gold fleur de lis on the
leg, closed the refrigerator door and opened a bottle of water. Will had that
same exact pair. Which either meant Jude was a liar about not liking football
or he had raided Levi’s closet.
    “Yeah,
but now it’s hot. And there’s only two times I like to sweat, on the football
field or during sex. And this is not one of those times.” He placed his helmet
on the counter under the key rack and shrugged his jacket off, leaving it
hanging over the back of the chair he’d claimed for himself. Heat wrapped
around him nearly suffocating him. But at least he could feel his nose again.
He stepped out of his boots and left them by the door. Still hot, he pulled off
his socks and stuffed them inside. The sweatshirt went next, tossed toward the
stacked washer and dryer over in the corner, which then left him almost as
undressed as his roommate.
    “Then
go turn the thermostat down.”