by Hughes, Maya
“I never said that. I’ll let you get some work in then all bets are off. I’m knocking at ten on the dot, so you’d better be ready.” The hungry growl of his voice sent me into overdrive.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
“Don’t tempt me. Get to work, B and E. I’m coming for you in two hours.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“You’d better be.”
23
Nix
“Are you paying attention?”
I dropped my pen onto the notepad in front of me. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said, the news story about that house building thing went over well. I’m working on a few other things to get your profile even higher. Didn’t you say you went to some soup kitchen or something?”
“Tagged along with a friend, but I’m not going to turn that into some publicity thing. I did it because I wanted to.”
“Everything can be used to our advantage. We have endorsements lined up for you after your first year. I’ve made some calls, and Philly looks like they’re set to pick you up. The quarterback right now is doing well, but it’s only a matter of time before his shoulder gives out and then it’s your chance. He’s been spending more time taped up and wrapped up in the offseason. Even with that surgery and throwing reform, the clock is ticking on him.”
The quick, dismissive way he talked about another guy’s career failing settled in my stomach like a rock.
“As long as you step out onto the field and get a few completions in the next season, you’ll be good. We can start local and move into national sponsors.”
“Isn’t that getting ahead of ourselves?”
“We’d be even more ahead if you’d finally choose an agent. The clock is ticking. Once the draft is over, you’ll start training camp. You need to come out strong there so there’s no doubt that once the QB has his first bad hit, you’ll get off the bench.”
My stomach soured, and the rising of that nauseated feeling that overtook me when the slow-motion hits happened around me. The sickening crunch of their helmet against mine, the gasping panic when I hit the ground and the air was forced out of my lungs—this conversation felt just like that.
My palms tingled and I flexed my hands.
“What if—” I licked my lips, all the blood leaving my head. I took a deep breath and tried to get a handle on the feelings threatening to overwhelm me. “What if I didn’t—what happens if I get injured?” I licked my dry lips again.
He waved those words away. “You’ll be fine. Sure, you’ll take some hits, but who hasn’t? You get back up like you always have. You put in the work and you’ll get a ring just like mine.” He flashed the ring he seemed to wear almost every time he left the house.
“Did Mom like watching you play?”
He got as still as a statue. It was almost like he stopped breathing, the blood stopped pumping through his veins, and everything shut down.
We didn’t talk about my mom—ever. Dad went radio silent any time I tried. I talked about her more with Gramps than I ever did with my father.
He cleared his throat. “No, your mom didn’t like to watch me play.”
“Why not?”
“She didn’t like to see the hits, especially after the first time I tore my ACL.”
“What did she do while you were playing?”
“She studied.” His throat tightened. “She wanted to be a doctor. She was in medical school when she got pregnant with you.”
“I never knew that.”
“She decided not to keep going after you were born.” Every word was tight like a rubber band being plucked.
A dream dead because of me.
“Never think for a second she regretted it.” He dropped his hand on top of mine, a softness in his eyes unlike any I’d seen before. “Even if she’d known she’d only have two hundred and thirty-seven days with you after you were born, she’d have made the same choices. She loved every second she was with you and never doubted she’d made the right choice for herself.”
It got hard to breathe, and a prickling sensation danced just under my eyes. I blinked to keep the welling emotions at bay. “What else did she like doing?”
I had my opening and wasn’t going to let it pass by. There were no pictures of my mom up in the house. Sometimes it seemed like my dad wanted to wipe her away completely. His track record with women wasn’t exactly stellar. The only saving grace was that he hadn’t paraded them through the house as I was growing up, but other than that it had just been him, me, and Gramps.
“She liked to cook, was always over at Tavola helping Gramps. She was on her way back from there when it happened.” His lips thinned into a line and the shutters were closed again. “Enough of that. Let’s get back to work.” He shook his head like that was enough to wash away the past, but it was more than he’d ever said about her before. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope there.
Leaving the house, it was like a little piece of my mom came with me, a piece of her I’d never known before: she’d liked being in the kitchen with Gramps just like I did. I’d look around the kitchen next time I was there and imagine her in front of the ovens or dragging something out of the fridge.
She’d changed her plans and decided not to become a doctor. That had to have been a hard decision, one not made lightly. Dad said she’d never regretted it, and I sure hoped she hadn’t. He’d never told me about where my mom’s accident had taken place. It had happened when she was leaving the restaurant—was that why Dad hated it? It wasn’t like Gramps or anyone else could’ve known, but maybe that was part of why he’d always resented it.
* * *
The drive back to my place seemed to stretch on forever. I wanted to tell Elle. Since I’d stepped outside of my house, that had been the main thought on my mind: to let her know everything my dad had told me. I wanted to share this part of my history I hadn’t even known existed. Stopping by Tavola, I picked up some food and promised Gramps I’d be by later that week.
“Nix!” someone called out. Usually, I was happy to say hi to someone who recognized me, but not right now. Still, like my programming couldn’t be overridden, I turned and smiled at the two women in matching pale blue tops with Greek letter patches sewn onto the front.
“Have you thought about what team you’d like to be drafted to?”
The same noncommittal answers I’d given a thousand times poured from my lips. They got closer with each passing second. Every time I tried to skirt around them, they blocked my path, working in unison like some sorority homing beacon.
A rumble and pop followed by squealing brakes filled me with equal parts dread and excitement. Elle’s car was a calling card from three city blocks away, but me being Nix the football star never seemed to appeal to her. It was a scarlet letter that meant I had to work doubly hard to get her to let her guard down, and now that she had, I wasn’t taking that lightly.
The metal-on-metal grating of her door closing rang out. I turned and she got closer, her eyes widening as she spotted me, a small smile just for me, but the shields were engaged when she glanced around me at the baby blue bloodhounds on my heels.
“What’s up?” She shot an uneasy look over my shoulder. While the current situation was innocent, we hadn’t exactly set any ground rules about what we were.
“I brought you some food.” I held out the boxes to her.
“Aww, isn’t that sweet? Is she your tutor or something? Cleaning lady maybe?”
I clenched my teeth so I didn’t spit out the words on the tip of my tongue that were itching to be spewed at them. I settled for a glare, and both of their gazes dropped to the ground.
Elle’s scowl over my shoulder nearly singed my eyebrows off. “Thanks for this. I’ll need it while I’m up until who knows when. I’ve just been told they need me to run the blood drive tomorrow, so that’s what I’ll be doing tonight.”
“I can help with the planning. What time is it at? Where is it?”
She dragged her hands over her face and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “It starts at noon in the old gym. It’s a disaster, and I’m trying to clean it up. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll figure it out. I’m sure you have better things to do.” She tugged at the strap of her backpack and marched up the steps to her house.
“I’m serious. Let me help.” I chased after her and stepped over the shitty lifted floorboards of Elle’s porch. LJ and I had come over to nail it down over the weekend, but already they were popping up again. If the whole thing didn’t collapse before the end of the semester, it would be a miracle. “At least take the food.”
She stood in the doorway, her gaze drifting over my shoulder. “I don’t want to interrupt your fan club meeting. They might like it better.”
My lips thinned. “I didn’t get it for them. I got it for you. It’s from my grandfather’s restaurant. He asked me to bring you by sometime. I know you’re busy, but I’d like you to meet him.”
Her gaze softened and she stared down at my full hands. “I’d like that, and thank you for the food.” She reached for the boxes.
I held on to them and shifted my hands so they covered hers. “I can help you get things ready.”
“I’m not—I’ve got it.” On her tiptoes, she peered over my shoulder. “They’re still here.”
As I stepped in closer, the box creaked between us. “They can stand out there for the next year for all I care. Let me help you.” I ran kisses along her jaw, featherlight against her skin. She tasted sweet against my lips.
Her eyes fluttered closed. “If you come in here, we both know I’ll get nothing done.” She licked her lips. “It’ll start with looks over books, then touches, and before we know it, I’ll be under you for the rest of the night.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I stepped closer, lowering my lips to hers.
“They’d probably storm my house if I let you in before they get their autograph or picture, or send in rescuers because they’d figure I was holding you against your will.” Her lips turned up and mischief glinted in her eyes. “I’ve got it, but thanks for the offer. I mean it, and thank you for the food.” She jiggled the box, using it to put some space between us.
“Tomorrow—I’ll be there.”
Her lips parted and I took the opening, tugging away her to-go box shield. I slipped my other hand behind her against the small of her back and pulled her against me, delving deep into her mouth.
There were sharp gasps from the sidewalk. Good. I wanted them to see this and know there was no way in hell they were getting anything from me.
Elle’s body relaxed into my hold, and my hungry caress was met with her eager, soft touch. She tasted like every dessert I’d been denied throughout every season of football I’d played.
She broke away and kept her gaze trained on the center of my chest.
“Are you sure you don’t want some help?”
Her hand settled over my heart and she peered up at me. “After that?” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “I have no doubt I’d get absolutely nothing done if you did.”
“Not nothing.” I braced my hand on the doorway and leaned in closer.
“Oh no you don’t. Get back to your fan club.” She lifted her chin toward the sidewalk, but there wasn’t any anger in her eyes this time. “And I’ll get to work.”
“See you tomorrow.” I stepped back, keeping my gaze trained on her before turning and jogging down the steps.
“You don’t have to come,” she called out after me.
I turned and looked over my shoulder. “I know.”
She smiled and closed the door.
“Nix, you’re going to be at the blood drive?”
I swung around, having totally forgotten about the sidewalk stalkers. “Yeah, I am. You two should come.” Elle would get as many donations as she needed and wouldn’t have to worry about getting the word out. “Actually, tell all your friends—blood drive tomorrow, and I’ll be there.”
“We’ll tell everyone,” they shouted after me.
Maybe so many donors would show up, Elle would get to leave early for a change. There’s no such thing as too many people at an event like this, right?
24
Elle
“This is an unmitigated freaking disaster.” I stared at the completely overrun basketball court. We’d only scheduled for a couple dozen beds, and there were over three hundred people swarming all over the place. People hadn’t read any of the requirements for donating, so the intake volunteers were questioning ten people for every one that was actually eligible.
“What the hell is going on?” One of the harried volunteers had sweat rolling down his face. He’d had to run out to buy more water and juice for the people who had been able to donate after the horde took over the after-donation table.
“I have no idea.” I tried to close my ears to the babbling around me, but one conversation in particular got through.
“Where’s Nix?”
“I don’t know. Is the rest of the team coming?”
“I hope Reece shows up. God, he’s hot.”
“He’s got a girlfriend now.”
“How is that even possible?”
I was 3.8 seconds from losing my shit. “Where did all these people come from?”
Someone set up a wireless speaker, and music blared from the other end of the space. I stomped over to that side, and behind me, everyone started cheering.
Turning, I stared at Nix striding onto the lacquered wood court, and I slowly pieced together how this day had gone completely to shit.
“He’s here—break out the kegs,” someone shouted from one of the side doors they’d propped open, letting out the air conditioning, which we needed to keep the people who’d just donated blood from passing out.
Nix was glad-handing with people like he was running for office. The music was cranked up, and the pungent smell of beer overwhelmed the latex and medical-grade plastic that mingled with the lingering sweat in the gym.
My blood pounded in my veins. I couldn’t move a muscle because that would mean causing someone bodily harm, one person in particular. All the freaking doubts I’d had, all the reservations were thrust straight in my face as he waved to me from behind his wall of hangers-on and adoring fans.
Beside me, a volunteer sighed. “Elle, this really isn’t conducive to the work we need to be doing. One of the techs was just sprayed with beer.”
I was so damn exhausted, blinking back the angry tears I flat-out refused to let spill. “This wasn’t what I had planned for today. I have no idea what happened.” I had one now, though, as all the bitching and moaning from people before his arrival filled in the gaps.
“We have to wrap up early. It’s not safe to have people bounding all over the place.”
Someone raced down the side of the court and threw a basketball into the hoop as it was lowered from the ceiling.
“I completely understand, and I’m sorry for this. Could we get you to come back? I can make sure nothing like this ever happens again.” Burying Nix under this gym would probably solve the problem.
“We’re slammed at the end of the school year, so I’m not sure.”
“I understand. Thanks anyway, and I hope you were able to get some good donations in.”
“Only about a third of what we normally do, but every little bit helps, right?” Her helpless shrug matched the hold I was trying to get on myself. This event had been thrust onto my lap at the last minute, but it would’ve been a great last-minute addition to my resume for the Huffington Award. Instead, it had caused me additional stress as well as wasting the organization’s time, potentially even costing lives if there was a blood shortage in a crisis.
“Hey, there you are.” Nix jogged over to me in his Trojans t-shirt and jeans. Girls all around the gym craned their necks, checking him out.
I balled up my fists at my sides upon hearing the light, carefree tone of his voice.
“Great turnout, huh?” He he
ld out his arms like he was freaking Caesar surveying the construction of the aqueducts.
“Did you do this?” I bit out through gritted teeth. My attempt at keeping my voice even went up in flames like whatever had been brewing between us.
His smile faltered. “I didn’t think this many people would show up, but yeah. Isn’t that what you needed? More bodies? Look at how many people are here.” He dropped his hands to my shoulders and turned me around. Oh, I saw the fruits of his efforts all right: people knocking over tables and chairs, the blood drive techs packing up their equipment, red plastic cups in half the hands of the people there. Who knew if they were even twenty-one.
I whipped around. Nix took a step back, his eyes wide. “I can see just fine. I see this whole day down the freaking drain. Maybe I should’ve just handed over the planning to you, then I could’ve finished the paper I needed to write last night. Instead, I get a front-row seat to another FU party.”
“You said you were worried about turnout.” He held his hands up, palms out, but that gesture of surrender just pissed me off even more. It was the same way he always said the parties appeared in their house like there was nothing they might have done to encourage it.
“I didn’t sleep last night. I put off two papers that are due tomorrow to get everything ready here.”
“And I offered to help.”
“This is what I get when you help.” My hand swept out toward the people who seemed to have nothing better to do than hang out and fuck around. Angry tears burned in my eyes, and that pissed me off even more. I refused to cry in front of anyone. I took a shuddering breath and glared at him. The tired, can-barely-keep-my-eyes-open feeling amplified my anger, tingeing it with deliriousness. My tank was on E, and I couldn’t deal with this right now.
“You turned the blood drive into one of your goddamn parties, Nix. They can’t even work under these conditions.” My finger shot out, pointing at the volunteers taking down the privacy screens they’d had up for people donating, the beds that were already empty and being taken down. “They couldn’t even get the pitiful amounts of blood they usually get because of all the assholes you apparently invited to hang out, gawking and waiting for your arrival.” The tears stung my eyes, but I slammed my lips shut and breathed through my nose. “You think an appearance by you is all this thing needed to be better? It would’ve been better if you’d never come at all. Do you understand how serious this is? The blood is needed—we’re literally talking life or death, here. This might cost people their lives, and I was the one in charge of the drive. Now, excuse me, I’ve got to help them get packed up and maybe, just maybe, I can salvage another spot for them before the end of the year.”