On the Sideline (BSU Football Book 3)

by JB Salsbury

  Boyfriend? I dig my fists into the couch and follow after her to my room.

  “She’s a mess, and really needs me right now.” She slings her bag over her shoulder. “We’ll have to reschedule our sleepover.” When she squeezes past me in the doorway I swear she holds her breath.

  “Who’s her boyfriend? Does he go to BSU?” I pepper her with questions as I follow her back down the stairs. “What’s his name?”

  “Evan.” She slips on her shoes, again, refusing to meet my eyes. “I forget where he goes to school, he’s older…I think, anyway…” She backs away from me to the door. “She’s going to pick me up and she’s a mess and you do not want to see Bex cry, it’s so ugly.” She laughs uncomfortably while backing out of the door. “I’ll text you.”

  “Hold on.” I grab the door before she can close it and follow her out to the front steps. “I’ll wait with you.” Because I want to look in Bex’s eyes and see if hearing she has a boyfriend changes the spark I always feel between us.

  I’m not so dense to believe that Riley is really leaving me to go to the aid of her cousin who she doesn’t really give a shit about. She needed an excuse to get away from the garlic breathing sweat dragon I’d become, it was all part of my plan. Hearing Bex has a boyfriend was fucking not.

  A sleek, white BMW with a black ragtop pulls up to the house and Riley takes off jogging to the car. The windows are tinted so I can’t see shit. I lean to try and spot who’s driving and catch a glimpse of curly brown hair when Riley slips into the passenger's seat yelling, “I’ll text you!”

  The car sits idle for a few seconds before I hear the gears shift and it rolls away.

  I got the Riley situation handled, and now I need to confront my issues with Bex.

  Bex

  “Took you long enough,” Riley says when she gets into my car. “Did you stop for food or something?”

  I stare at Loren through the glass feeling like he’s staring right back at me, which is impossible through the dark tint. He looks just as good as he did an hour ago when he picked up Riley. How does a man make a t-shirt and jeans look so edible? He’s like a Hollister model—

  “Why are we sitting here? Drive!” She sinks down in her seat as if she’s afraid he’ll come after her.

  Reluctantly, I pull away. “You’re lucky I had a craving for a grape Slurpee or you would’ve been waiting a lot longer.” After Loren and Riley left the house I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin imaging them together. Him holding open her door, putting his hand to her lower back while they walked through a room, cuddled up on the couch, and…more. I went for a drive and ended up at the gas station four blocks from Loren’s house when I got the 911 text from Riley saying she needed me to pick her up NOW. “What the hell happened?”

  “Ugh, it was so bad. He’s so hot, like so hot, but so gross.” She makes a gagging noise.

  “Gross how?” I can’t imagine anything about Loren being gross. He’s always clean and smells like soap, his house is always tidy, he drives a decent car, all the things Riley likes in her dates.

  “He ordered takeout pasta for dinner and I swear it had twenty cloves of garlic in it—pay attention! You almost ran us off the road!”

  Garlic? I told him she hated garlic.

  “And he sweats! Oh my God, he sweats for, like, no reason and touched my arm!” She squirts a healthy dose of hand sanitizer onto her forearm and rubs it in. “How did I not see these things about him before? Yuck!”

  Sweat. I mentioned her disgust for bodily fluids.

  A slow smile spreads my lips.

  Loren sabotaged his date on purpose!

  But why?

  “So that’s it? You’re not going to give him a second chance?” Please say no, please say no.

  She uses her phone camera like a mirror, checking her reflection, and shivers. “I’m too grossed out to think about that now. He’s hot and all, and his body, oh my god, but ew. Just ew.”

  “Yeah…ew.” I suck back my grape Slurpee and smile.

  Chapter Seven

  Bex

  When we return to the house the sisters surround Riley like a pack of lions on a fresh kill. My heart breaks a little for Loren as he’s about to get ripped apart and passed around the Greek gossip mill. It might seem harmless, but the mill has the potential to ruin a person’s reputation for their entire college experience. Possibly beyond.

  Brit Miller crapped his pants on a date with an Eta Pi and he ended up having to date outside the school because no girl would touch him after that.

  Todd Brown stole ten dollars from an Eta Pi’s purse on a date, he couldn’t handle the backlash and dropped out of school. I hear he’s now working at a Dairy Queen in Apple Valley.

  And poor Shawn Lewis asked his Eta Pi girlfriend to stick her finger in his butt while they were making out. He never showed up to school again and deleted all his social media. Rumor has it he moved to Australia.

  Loren could be next, depending on how Riley plays it. If she wants to see him again, she’ll candy coat the story while still making sure to reveal herself as the victim. If she doesn’t want to see him again, well… Australia.

  I can’t stomach either so I make my way to my room and flop on the bed in the dark. I told him no garlic and sweat, and he did it anyway. Why would he do that? If he didn’t want Riley, why even invite her over?

  With more questions than answers, I decide a hot shower and some melatonin gummies are in order. Wet hair and half asleep I hear something hit my window. I sit up, startled, and think maybe one of the snakes made the noise when it happens again. The distinct sound of pebbles hitting my window.

  I crawl to the end of my bed and throw back the curtains. I can’t see anything. I grab my glasses and—holy shit. “Loren?” I whisper.

  He waves at me from the parking lot where he’s crouched between Betty’s VW and Dana’s Mustang. He’s not waving at me so much as he’s waving for me to come down.

  “Are you insane?”

  He obviously can’t hear me so I hold up the universal sign for one-minute and then slide off the bed and into my flip flops. What the hell is he doing here at three o’clock in the morning? The house is quiet as I tiptoe down the hallway, stairs, and to the front door. My rubber soles smack on the concrete as I walk-jog around the corner and meet Loren there. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I needed to talk to you but I don’t have your number.”

  “You couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

  The corner of his mouth pulls up on the side. “It is tomorrow.”

  “What do you want?”

  He shifts uncomfortably, moving his weight from one foot to the next. “Can we go somewhere so I don’t have to whisper?”

  “I’m in my pajamas.”

  His gaze slips down my body making me highly aware of my silk sleeping shorts and my Hiss Off! shirt. “You look cute.”

  Cute. There’s that word again. Awesome. “Come on, I know where we can go.”

  I lead the way around the back of the house to the rose garden where a bench sits mostly hidden from view and far enough away that we can talk without being overheard. I sit on the bench, he stays standing.

  “I need to ask you something.” He paces back and forth making me dizzy with the angle I have to careen my neck to look up at him. He has to be close to six-five.

  I already know, so I answer his unspoken question. “I don’t know if Riley likes you. Honestly, we’re not that close, she doesn’t share those things with me.”

  He stops pacing and looks down at me, eyebrows pinched.

  “I don’t get it, I told you she hates garlic and sweat. If you like her so much why didn’t you listen to me?”

  “Huh…” He shakes his head and takes the spot on the bench next to me. “You think I’m here to ask you about Riley.”

  “Is that a question or…”

  He tilts his head to look at me. His eyes look pale blue in the dark with nothing but the moon to light
them. “I’m not here to talk about Riley.” His deep voice is almost a whisper and I find myself leaning in to listen.

  “You’re not?”

  “You’re telling me you don’t feel it?”

  Feel it? I feel a lot of things.

  “When we’re together?” He slides his hand toward me on the bench stopping just shy of my hand. “Do you feel it?”

  I suck in a shuddered breath and press my thighs together.

  “You feel it.” The deep timbre of his voice is like liquid sex.

  “You’re a good looking guy.” I hate the shaky weakness in my voice. “Every girl feels something around you.”

  “But I only feel something around you.”

  I gasp and tell myself not to forget to breathe when he scoots closer, so close our thighs touch. “I don’t like jocks,” I blurt.

  He must find that funny because he smiles. “I’d like to try and change that.”

  “I have a boyfriend!”

  His expression changes from playful to murderous in an instant. “Evan,” he spits. “Who is he?”

  I blink rapidly at the sound of Evan’s name. “How do you know about Evan?”

  “Does he go here? What’s his last name?”

  “He doesn’t go here, and Zanderboughten and how do you know—”

  “Riley told me.”

  “How would she…huh.” I stare into the darkness in front of me. “I guess she does listen when I talk.”

  “How long have you and Evan,” he says his name like it’s a venereal disease. “Been together?”

  Huh? Um… “Four.”

  “Four what? Months?”

  “Four…” Years are too much, months is a lot, days are not enough. ”Weeks?”

  “Are you asking me?” His eyes narrow.

  “Four weeks.” I shrug, putting on an air of confidence I am not feeling.

  “Where did you meet?”

  “Online.”

  “What is his favorite food?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “You’ve been dating for a month and you don’t know what he likes to eat.”

  Good point. “Pad Thai.”

  “Where did he grow up?”

  “Georgia.”

  He puts his hand on his chin. “Georgia, huh? Where in Georgia?

  “I don’t remember.”

  “What’s his middle name?”

  What is up with the inquisition? I look around for anything that might spark a response and blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “Rose…enberg.”

  He grins, slow and too sexy to be legal. “His birthday?”

  “February seventh,” I say the first date I can think of.

  “Today? His birthday is today. What did you get him? Why aren’t you with him now?” When I don’t answer, he looks down at his feet smiling. “You don’t have a boyfriend, Bex, do you.”

  What’s the point in lying? I’d hoped saying I had a boyfriend might protect me from whatever this is. His potency, attention, God, just sitting next to him is overwhelming and every one of my nerves is on overload. I sigh and shake my head. “No.”

  He leans forward to look at me. “Why lie? Are you not interested in exploring whatever this is between us?”

  I am, I am, don’t listen to me! I want to touch you and kiss you, and yes to all the exploring! “I don’t know how to be with someone like you.”

  “A jock.”

  I move to rub my eyes only to jam my fingers into the lenses of my glasses. As if the fates are confirming my point. I pull my glasses off and rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. “You’re a cotralas atrox.”

  He frowns. “You lost me.”

  “We’re not even the same genus. We’re at opposite sides of the food chain.” When he still doesn’t get it I say the words he needs to hear. “Guys like you don’t fall for girls like me.”

  He sits up and turns more fully to me. “Says who?”

  “Society.”

  “Fuck society. I think you’re gorgeous, Bex. Your presence charges the air in a room so that I can feel you before I even see you. What is that?”

  I pluck the front of my shirt and bring it to my nose. “Tide Clean Breeze?”

  “No, Brat.” He holds his hand above my thigh and I’m riveted watching his massive fingers hover until he clears his throat and I realize he’s waiting for my consent. I nod and he lowers his hand to my bare thigh, his long, thick fingers squeeze and send a jolt of electricity straight up my leg and into my panties. “It’s you.” His warm hand making direct contact with my skin short circuits my brain, and I fall into a fantasy where we could be together.

  “I lied earlier.”

  He shifts closer until my shoulder meets his pec. “About?” Our eyes lock and he holds my gaze with all the sincerity I feel from his words.

  “I do feel it.”

  “I know.” Another shift and he’s even closer. He dips his head and breathes against my lips. “Can I kiss you?”

  “Oh wow.” I lean back and glare at his mouth. “How much garlic was in that pasta?”

  He chuckles and squeezes my leg again sending another jolt of pleasure straight up. “A lot.” He puts a little space between our faces and covers his mouth loosely with his free hand. “I had to make it her idea to leave or I’d feel like a dick.”

  “What were you planning to do before I tipped you off with the garlic and the sweating?”

  “Burp, make her watch football and ask her to bring me beers, scratch my balls a lot, and if she still wasn’t turned off I’d complain about a rash—”

  I burst out laughing.

  “I like your smile.”

  My face ignites and I dip my chin to hide it. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll wait until the garlic is out of my system and then I’m coming back for that kiss.” He moves to scoot away from me, and I lock my muscles to keep from lunging after him.

  “You can’t be serious. You’re dating my cousin.”

  “We’re not dating.”

  “You made out with her, multiple times.”

  He recoils, but doesn’t deny it.

  “And you’re her date for the Valentine’s Day formal.”

  He props his elbows on his knees and holds his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, that’s right.”

  What are we even doing? Even if Riley wasn’t an obstacle there’s no way Loren and I could date. I mean, maybe we’d hook up, but eventually he’d get tired of the crap he’d get from his friends for hanging out with someone like me, and I can guarantee I’d be put in front of the Eta Pi firing squad for violating rule number seven of our code of sisterly conduct—never date a sister’s ex.

  “I’ll tell her I can’t go.” He’s looking at me now as if his solution is just that easy.

  “You can’t do that. The formal is in six days. She’s the President of the sorority.”

  “A girl like Riley will not have a hard time finding a replacement.”

  How quickly I switch from considering a kiss with this guy to wanting to punch him in the throat. “Thanks for the reminder,” I say dully.

  “Okay, now why are you mad?”

  “I should get back inside.” I stand and he rises off the bench alongside me. I have to crank my neck back to keep eyes on his face.

  “When can I see you again?”

  I gather my hair at my nape, pull it over my shoulder and twist it just to give my hands something to do besides reach out and press them to his chest to see if it’s as solid as it looks. “I don’t know, Loren. You’re with Riley now. How can you even talk about seeing me? Honestly, it makes you look like a creep.” I bite my tongue wishing I could take back the words. Leave it to me to push away the only hot, popular guy who has ever shown me interest.

  He takes a step back, his hands shoved tightly into his jeans pockets. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come over tonight.”

  Don’t say that! I nod, because I’m afraid to open my mouth for fear of wh
at kind of begging might come out.

  “I’ll make things clear with Riley, let her know I’m not interested in anything more than friendship, and I’m sure after that she’ll want to take someone else to the formal.”

  I’m already shaking my head. “You clearly don’t know her.” Tell Riley she can’t have something and that becomes her sole focus. I’ve never known her to not get everything she’s ever wanted. Which makes any feelings I could possibly develop for Loren even more pointless.

  “What?”

  I sigh and shake my head. “I gotta go.” I head back in the direction of the front door and can feel Loren’s presence close behind me.

  He jogs up the front steps to whirl around in front of me. “Can I call you?” He dips his chin to get my eyes. “As friends.”

  “Sure, I guess.” I enter my info into his phone and he tucks it back in his pocket.

  A small breeze carries a thick, frizzy, strand of hair across my face and he reaches it before I do to tuck it behind my ear. The action is so gentle it makes my chest cramp.

  “Goodnight, Bex.”

  “’Night.” I step around him and before I’m even to the door I’m wondering what the fucksticks just happened. How is this my life? And what will Riley do when/if she finds out that he was here…for me? The answer? She can’t know. I turn around hoping it’s not too late to catch him before he leaves only to rock back in surprise when I see him standing on the bottom step watching me with an intense gaze. “You have to go to the dance with Riley.”

  “I’d rather go with you.”

  “And turn a house of fifty plus girls against me?”

  He frowns. “Fine, I’ll go with her if she doesn’t cut me off herself. But, Bex, after the dance, you and I are going to talk.”

  “That’s fair.” We won’t, because I’m sure he’ll snap out of whatever delusion he’s in and he’ll fall hard for my cousin.

  He studies me once more from my flip flops up my bare legs and to my eyes. “Go inside, Bex.”

  I glare at him so he knows I don’t appreciate being told what to do.

  Then I turn around because I want to. Without another word I head inside, up to my room, and lie in bed going over every word he said and talking myself out of believing him.