A/N: After many discussions, mybrandofheroin84 (megs) and I (bloodofbeckie, aka bex) decided that it was time that we show off our twi-twin love and share it with everyone. We've really wanted to write a fic together for so long, but things just kept coming up. We also wanted to touch on something that hadn't really been played around with much, so we chose to write a story about Paul. Not much is known about Paul. He's angry, he's a wolf...that's about it. The poor guy doesn't even get a last name.

But...he IS played by Alex Meraz and Alex Meraz is super hot, and since we're snarky, wordy, horny, 20-something hoors, we made up a last name for Paul, made him (along with some of the other characters in the Twilight series) football players, and expanded on Paul's...anger issues. Hope you enjoy!

Big thanks go to our beta, ysar, who is made from awesome. She writes this little-known fic called Breathe Again? Yeah, you'd probably hate it, shouldn't bother. LOL. We adore you. Also big smooshy hugs to crystalnicoleyo, Live720, myhubbyisnoedward and btvsna, our SOB hoors, keepers of our hearts and teammates for life.

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, but we own our desperate love of naked men.

Chapter One: Hungry like the Wolverine

The score was thirteen to seven. We only had one minute and thirty seconds left to make up the six points by which we were trailing, and Penn State had the ball at third and two. This wasn't looking good. The ten others on the defense lined up, and I noticed a change in the offense, so I called an audible out to the others. I watched as the center snapped the ball back, and I made my move, looking for an opening in the offensive line. Noticing a gap, I dodged through the linemen and honed in on the number seventeen. I saw his eyes widen as I came barreling toward him, grabbing him and throwing him down to the ground.

The sea of navy blue and yellow in the stands erupted. Students, alumni, and fans alike simultaneously cheered as I stood up and brushed myself off. Looking down at the fallen quarterback, I sneered, "Hard enough hit for you, Cullen?"

He stood up, pulling his jersey back over his pads and looking at me with contempt. "I don't know, Groves. It seems like I hit your mother harder than that last night."

I growled behind my clenched teeth as my fists balled up. Before I could say anything to the pansy in front of me, Embry came over and hit me on the back.

"Nice take down, Paul. We're still in this. Let's do this shit."

I turned away from Edward's sardonic expression and focused on my teammate as I nodded. I had hated Edward Cullen all my life. He had been the quarterback for the Forks Spartans, the arch-rivals of the La Push football team. In our senior year, he got caught fucking Bella Swan under the bleachers at Forks High, which wouldn't have been such a big deal if Bella hadn't been dating one of my best friends, Jacob Black, at the time. Didn't it just figure that when Jared and I decided to attend Michigan later that year that Edward and his brother Emmett chose Michigan's rival Penn State for their school? Jacob and Embry joined the team a year later, so they could aid in the We Hate the Cullens movement. Now that the Cullens, Jared, and I were all seniors, we were fighting for the attention of the NFL recruiters. Yeah, I hated Edward Cullen with a passion.

On their last down, they decided to get a little ballsy and went for another touchdown instead of a field goal. It was no doubt to impress the recruiters that we all knew were sitting in the stands somewhere. However, Jacob intercepted the ball, and I helped guard him all the way down the field for a final touchdown. We missed the extra point thanks to the stupid Brazilian ex-soccer player turned kicker, Nahuel Whats-his-name. The name on his jersey was longer than his shoulders were broad. I couldn't pronounce that shit, and I wasn't trying. Either way, the fucker kicked the ball way left, which sent us into overtime with a tie.

They ended up winning with a field goal, and this, of course, amped up my rage factor by about ten. Back in the locker room, there were a couple of banged in locker doors that felt my wrath. I made the promise to myself that we would get back at them sometime—whether it was on or off the field.

After we hit the showers, we all planned to hit the town. All I could think about was getting out of there for some partying to blow off some steam. It shouldn't be too hard to find a good time. We were in our own hometown, after all. The chicks around here seemed to see hooking up with us as a sort of team loyalty thing. God bless loyal fans.

To get out to the parking lot, we had to pass by the vicinity of the visitors' locker room. As we got close, we could hear a guy and girl arguing. Embry, Jared, and I all exchanged with each other looks of pity for the guy, but I noticed Jacob looked concerned. As we got closer, I realized why. I recognized the voices of Edward Douche-bag Cullen and Bella fucking Swan. It sounded as though he may have been trying to break up with her, and she was trying to convince him not to.

"Did you know that she was coming?" I asked Jacob. They had repaired their friendship after her infidelity and stayed in contact. He nodded. "Did you know they were having problems?" He shook his head.

It was none of my business, so I dropped it and just kept walking. I couldn't help but smirk a little, thinking how great it was that he was having problems. Even if the rest of Cullen's life was one big privilege after another, at least he wasn't immune to trouble in the relationship department. And as an added benefit? Bella was getting some of her just desserts, too.

We went to our first bar and were immediately served a round of beers. Free beer was good, but it sucked to have people telling us, "If you had only done this…" Yeah, we got it. We fucked up. We just nodded a lot and tried to look contrite so the beer would continue to flow unreservedly.

As the night went on and the hours passed, we were starting to feel pleasantly buzzed from all the bar hopping we'd done. As we walked out of the last bar, I realized that Seth was nowhere to be seen. I vaguely recalled seeing him with his arm around a girl at the first bar we had gone to. Maybe he was finally getting some tail.

Seth was the newest to our team. He was our freshman, a local hometown boy, and squeaky clean around the edges. We were doing our best to corrupt him, and he had been ecstatic to go out drinking with all of us. He was planning to take full advantage of the opportunity, hoping to pick up an older chick tonight. Normally, he was destined for only the glassy-eyed freshmen hoes that drank more than they could handle at frat parties. He was aching to get laid, but all he ever got was vomited on after the girls tossed up their four Jack Daniel's Downhome Punches.

Jacob was being Sappy McWhinypants, worrying about Bella, who had been text messaging him all night long. Good ol' second pick Jake. Fucking figures. Either she wanted Jake to pick up the pieces of her broken heart, or she wanted to make Edward jealous enough to take her back. Or maybe both. I hated her fucking mind games. Either way, the result was the same—she got what she wanted, and Jake was left screwed in the end. Well, not this time, not if I had anything to do about it.

After several texts back and forth, Jake went outside, which I could only assume meant he had invited Bella to join us, and she had arrived. After a minute, I decided to follow him out. I wasn't going to let him bail on our guys' night this early, and especially not for her. Embry and Jared followed along behind me. I heard a shout and turned to find Seth running up to us. Where had he been?

"I did it…I took your advice, and I talked that girl Brianna into coming back to the apartment with me."

"Wait. You took her to OUR apartment?" Quil was aghast.

Embry looked sheepishly at us. "I told him that he could, and gave him my key."

"Embry," Quil whined.

I turned back to Seth who looked like he was bursting at the seams. "And?" I encouraged him. His eyes were sparkling. This could only mean one thing.

"I saw God, and she was hot."

I couldn't help but laugh at him. "And where is God now?" I asked as we stepped out of the bar into the chilly October evening. I zipped up my leather coat against the brisk wind and stuffed my hands in my pockets.

"Well, um, I think she passed out afterward. I went to try to get her out of there, but she was just a-snoring away. So…Quil, you've got a naked girl in your bed."

"You used my bed?" Quil shouted.

Embry and I laughed. I noticed Jake across the street in the park. My fears were confirmed. His arms were around the shoulders of a small brown-haired girl. I sighed. Jake planned to ditch us all for the girl who had ditched him over and over. They were really pissing me off. She had no right to do this to him again. She always claimed that he was "just such a good friend." Who the fuck treats their friends like that? The bitchtastic ho that was Bella Swan, that's who.

And Jacob…I felt a flash of anger toward him for being the weak little puppy dog that just kept going back for more abuse. He was sickeningly loyal; he thought the sun rose and set on her ass. It was about time he grew some freaking balls and just told her to fuck off. That's what I would have done. He was way too nice for that though.

As we got closer to them, I heard Jake speaking quietly over the sounds of Bella's soft sobs. I almost felt bad for her at that moment…almost.

"Jake," I started, stepping up behind the two of them. Bella swiped at her face, wiping her tears away with the back of her tiny hand. "Come on, let's go back inside. It's fucking cold outside. And the beer is flowing like water."

Jake turned back to Bella. "Bella, come inside with us. I know that you're leaving, but just have a drink before you go, get your mind off everything." He took her hand, his eyes pleading with her. I wanted to plead with her too. Just take the poor guy out of his misery already, won't you?

"I…" she started.

"Well, if it isn't Jacob fucking Black, already trying to get his hands on my woman."

Bella gasped and squirmed out of Jake's grasp at the sound of Edward's voice, and she turned to meet the bloodshot eyes of her boyfriend. Whew. I could smell the whiskey on him from where I was standing.

"Edward, what—?" Bella started, stepping up to him, but he cut her off.

"I should have known you would run right to him." His voice was full of disgust as he nodded at Jake.

"Edward, you broke up with me. I was just coming here to tell Jacob goodbye. Angela and Rosalie were able to switch our flights to leave tonight so we can get back to school," she explained. "I didn't want to wait until tomorrow because I didn't want to face you when I was moving all my stuff out of our apartment. But I couldn't just leave without saying goodbye to him. He's my friend."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I do want to be with you. That girl? Jessica? She's nothing. She didn't mean anything."

Jake's spine stiffened as he realized the extent of the heartbreak that Bella was going thorough. Sucks to be her, I thought. Now she got to see what it was like to be Jacob every time that he saw her with Edward, the dude that she had cheated on him with. I refused to let myself feel bad for her.

"He cheated on you?" Jacob asked Bella, hurt clouding his voice. Undoubtedly, he was being brought back to the night that his sister, Rachel, had come home from a party and told us what had happened in Forks.

"This isn't any of your fucking business, Black," Edward said, stepping up to come toe to toe with Jake.

"It is if Bella brought me into this, Cullen." Jacob sneered down at Edward, towering over his six feet by over a half foot. He outweighed Edward by about forty pounds. Cullen had to be drunk to think that he could take Jacob. I mean, his brother Emmett was pretty big, comparable to Jake's size, but not even Emmett Cullen could take all of us. The rest of Cullen's posse was about his size. We could take them.

"She doesn't need you. She doesn't want you. If she did, she wouldn't have chosen me over you in high school. She wouldn't have chosen to follow me to Penn State. She would have gone back to Washington every Christmas break and summer vacation instead of vacationing with me and my family in Italy and France. You are a loser, Jacob. Bella deserves a winner."

I watched Jake's face fall with each malicious word that spewed from Edward's mouth.

"Shut the fuck up, Cullen. A winner doesn't cheat, a winner doesn't lie. So obviously Bella doesn't deserve any of us," I said.

"Can it, Groves. You're such a fucking loser that your own mother didn't want you and left the Blacks stuck with you. No wonder they were so poor. They had to support your delinquent ass on top of Jacob's. You try so hard to impress those NFL recruiters, but for what? You'll be lucky if even the Detroit Lions want you, and we all know they're the worst team in the NFL. You're nothing. You've always been nothing, and you'll always be nothing."

I heard the growls of my friends behind me but ignored them as I stared the swaying Edward Cullen down. He grinned at me like the Cheshire Cat.

That did it. Everything that had happened in the past couple of days including the bad test grade in my environmental terrain class to that chick fucking up my Big Mac order (how hard is two all beef patties, lettuce, onions, pickles, cheese, special sauce on a sesame seed bun? Really?), to losing the game all caught up with me, and I became so enraged that I couldn't see straight. It was like my fists developed minds of their own as they began to pummel Eddie-boy's face.

Over and over again my fists connected, and in the back of my mind I could hear Bella's screams, feel Jacob's warm hands attempting to pull me away, and noticed the vague sensation that Cullen was hitting me back, but my adrenaline was pumping so fast and hard that I couldn't acknowledge any of it. The only thing I could do was continue to drive my fists against Cullen's face, his body, feeling a sick satisfaction as my knuckles connected with his flesh.

I don't know whether they were doing a regular patrol, or if someone called, but it seemed like almost as fast as the fight started, the police showed up. After I saw them running over out of the corner of my eye, but before they could get to me, I made sure to knock Edward on his ass. I was certain I was going to go down for this, and I wanted to make it count. Sure enough, as soon as the cops got close enough, they tackled me. Prejudiced bastards always went first for the guy with more pigment. I guess I just looked like more of a trouble-maker than Edward Prissy-boy Cullen, with his preppy ass pea coat and swanky hairdo.

I knew better than to try and fight off the cops. Let's just say that with my anger issues, I may have gotten to know some of Ann Arbor's finest on a first name basis, and they are not all as friendly and forgiving as the ones on COPS. They cuffed me and threw me into the back of the patrol car. I was beyond fuming at that point, and I didn't even pay attention to what was happening back at the scene outside the bar.

After what seemed like forever, the two officers got into the cruiser, and we headed down to the police station. I went through the routine; stripped down and put on the jail pajamas, got my portrait taken, and gave my fingerprints. The junior officer that was left in charge of the new arrestees was obviously very proud of his himself, judging by the overly smug look on his face. He was barely older than me, but he kept giving me looks that went back and forth from a professional disdain for all that is illegal to a sort of fatherly disappointment. Must be a fan.

Junior Officer Guilt Trip led me to the holding cell, and man, there were some interesting dudes in there. There were two biker guys with their long, stringy, salt and pepper hair tied at the nape of their necks, wearing leather Harley Davidson vests over their sweat-yellowed white t-shirts. They looked drunk as skunks, and I wasn't exactly sure if they were even conscious. There was a big and very pissed off looking black guy who kept cracking his knuckles. He glared at me, and I quickly averted my gaze. God, I could only hope one of the guys called someone with enough money to come bail me out—and soon.

I was in the holding cell, getting settled in for an agonizingly long night, when Edward Motherfucking Cullen came walking in, his hands cuffed behind his back. Absolutely perfect. This night just could not get any worse. However, my outlook was significantly raised when I got a good look at the swelling and bruising that was beginning to show on his face.

"You guys are going to behave yourselves in there!" Officer G.T. called out to us.

For a split second, I considered asking Cullen to help me knock that pitiful excuse for law enforcement out. I quickly took back that thought though, as Cullen was giving me some self-righteous looks of his own. Fucker. So, instead, I just glared at the cop, hoping to convey with my eyes all the pegs I wished I could knock him down.

"I bet you're glad you're drunk. Thanks to me, you've got quite the black eye. And fat lip. And maybe you should open your mouth, make sure you have all your teeth." At least he looked like shit, which made my time in there a little more worth it.

"I'm sure you'd have a black eye too, if it'd show up."

"What did you say to him?" Mr. Knuckles stopped his pacing at the front of the cell and stood in front of Edward.

"Uh…" Edward stuttered.

"Don't you know who this is? This is fucking Paul Groves, one of the best linebackers Michigan has seen. Don't fucking mess with him."

Edward visibly gulped and shut up.

"Thanks dude," I directed at my new best friend. And to Cullen, "Fuck off, asshat."

With that, we both just turned our backs on each other, knowing that there was no way we could get out of this easily if we got into a fight now. That's not to say I didn't picture wringing his rich pansy ass neck, though.

I couldn't figure out how much time had passed. Mr. Knuckles, who was actually a pretty awesome guy named Pete, helped me pass the time by talking about some of my options for next year and some of my better moments at Michigan. It turned out that he had been brought in for assault as well. He had beat up a bartender who had changed the television station in the middle of the football game. Talk about your diehard fan, I thought. A door opened and closed in the distance, but I was too involved in my discussion with Pete about where I was interested in playing next year to notice.

"Groves!" Junior Officer Dick Face called my name, and I stood up. "You've been bailed out. Get over here."

I turned to Pete, shook his hand, and thanked him for the talk. He asked for an autograph. Dick Face got me a pen and a piece of paper, and then promised to give it to Pete when he was released.

"What about me?" a voice piped up.

I was startled. I had almost forgotten Cullen was there. Ha. He got to hear from a die-hard fan that I wasn't nothing like he'd thought. I was somebody to at least one person. The notion made me smile.

"Cullen, your brother is outside now, filling out the paperwork. It will just be a few more minutes."

I turned to Edward and was surprised to see his face completely mottled with bruises and swelling around his lip and one eye. We stared each other down for a full minute before Officer Guilt-Trip Dick-Face pulled me out of the cage, scolding the both of us for being so childlike.

I was brought to a room where I was given my belongings back, and I was allowed to put my street clothes back on. While they escorted me to the front, I wondered who had been available at three in the morning to come and bail me out. The boys must have pooled their resources. But as the officer pushed open the door, any lingering amount of drunkenness that had been in me simply disappeared. Standing in the lobby was a very grumpy looking Stephan Meyer, the head coach for the Michigan Wolverines.

"Oh shit," I said, stopping where I stood.

"'Oh shit' basically sums it up. You're in a world of trouble, Groves," he said. "Come on. It's three thirty in the fucking morning. I'm going to drop you off at your house, and then the two of us have a meeting with the director of athletics and the president of the university at nine o'clock sharp. So you need to sleep, and then you need to figure out what the hell you're going to say to the three of us that will keep you on as a member of this football team. Let's go."

I followed him out the door and into his Nissan Titan truck. As we drove down the almost deserted streets of Ann Arbor, all I could think about was the fact that my life as I knew it was over.

Oh, snap.

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