Pretty little touchdown

Two years ago, Ash weighed a hundred and eighty pounds, ate lunch alone in a stairwell, and would have laughed in your face if you'd told her she'd end up on the Wexford University cheer squad.
Two years later, she is five-foot-three, a hundred and eighteen pounds, and standing on the sideline of a stadium full of forty thousand strangers, praying none of them look too closely.
Especially not him.
Chase Callahan is the golden boy of Wexford. Six-foot-three, undefeated, magazine cover, future first-round pick. He calls his professors sir. He visits the children's hospital every Sunday. He opens doors, never raises his voice, never has a hair out of place, and every mother in three states wants her daughter to bring him home for Thanksgiving.
It is the best performance anyone at this university has ever given.
Nobody knows what actually lives behind those perfect blue eyes. Nobody knows that the good boy is the costume, and the thing wearing it does not feel things the way people are supposed to feel them.
Nobody, except Ash. Who saw something she was never supposed to see, one night in October she has spent every day since trying to forget.
She thought if she stayed quiet enough, small enough, invisible enough, he would forget too.
He hasn't.
He won't.
And when the golden boy of Wexford University decides you are his, staying invisible stops being an option.