Fair Catch

by Ruddick, Jessica

  I leaned forward and shushed him playfully. “Are you crazy? Don’t say that too loud, or you’ll have a line around the block.” I looked around the room at the muscle-bound group. “Or maybe you’re safe in this crowd. They don’t seem like the type to have heart-to-hearts.”

  “What happens in the locker room stays in the locker room.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Well, now I want to know.”

  He grinned mischievously. “That’s the whole point of the saying. You don’t get to know.”

  “Tease.”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things before, but never that.”

  I laughed. “Forget about the locker-room talk. Tell me more about that.”

  He chuckled. “I plead the fifth.”

  Crossing my arms in mock anger, I glared at him. “You are no fun.”

  He picked up a butterfly. “Maybe not. But I am handy with scissors.”

  Shushing noises came from the couch. The third pick was about to be announced, so I turned my attention to the TV.

  The commissioner approached the podium. “For the third pick in this year’s draft, Tennessee selects Freddie Martin, IV, wide receiver, Virginia Valley University.”

  Cheers erupted in the room as we watched Freddie hug a crying Angela then make his way to the stage. I didn’t have to know a lot about the draft to understand that being the third pick was a big accomplishment.

  Besides that, Freddie got lucky—Tennessee was close by, so he wouldn’t be far from VVU while Angela finished her last year. Katie had mentioned that was a concern.

  The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming more relaxed. I hadn’t realized how thick the tension had been until then, probably because I’d been in my own butterfly world. It was nice that Freddie’s teammates had been anxious for him, even if the feeling had been unfounded. More than that, though, I imagined that having players go high in the draft was good for the VVU program in general.

  Jake moved to chat with the friend he’d come with—I hadn’t been properly introduced to most of the guys there—and I vigorously attacked the stack of construction paper. Kill me now. Spending hours on these damn insects was the last thing I wanted to do, but I’d given my word, so I would get them done come hell or high water.

  Taking pity on me, Katie joined me on the floor and picked up the scissors Jake had abandoned. Either that or she’d grown bored with the football talk.

  “Do you know all the guys here?” I asked casually.

  Katie shook her head. “Wyatt pretty much only hung out with Freddie and Angie. But now he’s trying to get to know some of the other players better.”

  Damn. Not that I was fishing for information about Jake, but… Okay, I was totally fishing, not that it mattered. Though I wasn’t hot and heavy with Adam, we’d been exclusive since we started seeing one another. Or at least I had. I assumed he’d done the same, but I didn’t know for sure. Honestly, I didn’t care. I was fond of Adam, but I would never love him.

  I gave Katie the side-eye. “Was that his idea or yours?”

  “Someone might have suggested that it could help the team gel if he was a leader on and off the field.” She shrugged. “It can’t hurt.”

  I nodded. “Makes sense. Good team dynamics and whatnot.”

  “Exactly. Sometimes guys are so clueless about that stuff.”

  The draft picks continued rolling in. After the tenth pick, no quarterbacks had been selected.

  “I wouldn’t say this is a historic draft, but it’s definitely unusual,” a commentator said. “There have only been two other drafts in the last twenty years that I can recall where quarterbacks didn’t go top five.”

  “Agreed,” the co-commentator said. “It’s definitely not unusual to see multiple quarterbacks selected in the first five picks alone. It makes me question whether this is an indicator of the quarterback-candidate pool or if there simply isn’t a need.”

  “Good question. I would say there isn’t a need. I know many people questioned why Heisman winner Wyatt Archer didn’t enter the draft, but perhaps he knew something we didn’t. If he has another solid season, I’d put my money on him to be a top-five pick next year.”

  “VVU lost FM4, though. Can—”

  Katie squealed, drowning out the sound of the TV. She jumped up and hurled herself into Wyatt’s lap, wrapping her arms around him.

  “How about it?” one of the guys asked. “You got some insider information, Archer?”

  Wyatt grinned. “Lucky guess.”

  Even though Wyatt had led the team to a national championship and won the Heisman trophy, he’d decided to stay at VVU one more year, much to the criticism of many in the sports world. I could only imagine how vindicated he must feel after hearing the commentator’s words.

  Though I’d been tempted, I was glad I hadn’t stayed home. Watching Freddie’s dream of going pro come to fruition was inspiring and took my mind off my crappy day.

  CHAPTER 3

  Jake

  MUCH TO RACHEL’S relief, the butterflies were finally all cut out and carefully stowed in her bag. Though I’d claimed to be skilled with scissors, I was mediocre at best, and she’d completed at least twice as many as I had. Still, she was grateful for the help.

  Chatting with her was a welcome distraction from my thoughts. Not only was watching the draft difficult because of the memories of watching with my father, but it also reminded me how far I’d let myself fall. My parents wouldn’t have wanted that. When I’d made VVU’s team, they had been ecstatic and immediately spent a small fortune in fan apparel. While not playing last season had been out of my control, it would be all my fault if I missed out on the upcoming season.

  Not gonna happen. When I put my mind to something, I was a tenacious son of a bitch. Carson had had to strong-arm me into coming, but I was glad to be there—it was the kick in the ass I needed.

  Plus, I’d met Rachel. She was plucky, the kind of girl that gave redheads their fiery reputation, but not in a bad way. Since my parents died, I hadn’t had any interest in dating, but I was considering asking for Rachel’s number.

  Beside me, she yawned. “Sorry.” She covered her mouth. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She eyed me, and I realized my comment might have come across differently than I’d intended.

  I shook my head. “I mean, literally, tell me about it.”

  She shook her finger at me. “Uh-uh. We already decided we weren’t going to talk about my problems.”

  “No, you decided that. Talk to me.”

  She peered at me like she expected my face to separate and a little green man to climb out of my skull. So perhaps asking her to talk about her feelings wasn’t the most manly move. Or maybe she thought I was trying to get on her good side so I could see her naked later. They were both valid scenarios, but neither explained my purpose. I hadn’t been lying when I’d told her it was nice to think about someone else’s problems. Maybe that was the solution to me living in my head—maybe I needed to hang out my shingle as a shrink.

  “I picked the wrong major and am heavily in debt pursuing that major. I’ve got to figure out how to fix it without doubling my student loans.” She smiled wryly. “Half the people at this school are probably in the same situation. It’s not much of a sob story.”

  “Just because you’re not the only one in the situation doesn’t mean it sucks any less for you.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Thanks.” She blinked sleepily then looked longingly at Katie, who seemed wide-awake.

  “Is she your ride?”

  “Yes. It doesn’t look like she’ll be ready to leave any time soon, though. But it’s okay.”

  “I can take you home.” Shit. The offer was out of my mouth before I remembered that Carson had driven me there. But he would probably let me drive his car. That was the thing about rich kids—they were lackadaisical with their toys. If I wrecked his car, it was no big deal. Daddy would buy him a new one. Th
at made me sound like an asshole, but that had literally happened last year, except not with me. Carson had let the girl he was seeing drive his Mustang, and she’d plowed into a guardrail. Luckily, no one was hurt. He had a new car within a week.

  “I don’t want to pull you away.” Even as she said the words, I could tell she wanted to accept my offer.

  “It’s no problem. Give me two seconds.” I stood and went over to Carson. “Can I borrow your car? Rachel needs a ride home.”

  Carson grinned as he dug in his pocket for the keys. “Am I going to need to find my own way home?”

  “No. It’s not like that.”

  He put his hands up, palms out. The cheesy grin never left his face. “I’m not judging. Just don’t get jizz on my seats. Condoms are in the glove box.”

  “Don’t be an asshole.” I snatched the keys out of his hand, but before I could turn away, he grabbed my arm.

  His grin had been replaced with a somber expression. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m glad you came out tonight, and I’m glad you made a new friend.”

  My first instinct was to snap back at him, but his expression didn’t change. His words were sincere, and for the first time, the truth hit me—Carson had been worried about me. I looked back over the past few months and felt as though a fog had cleared. I’d shut myself off, only attending classes and mandatory training. Everyone else had taken the hint and left me the hell alone, but he’d continued to call and text several times a week. A few times, he’d stopped by for some beers, which were the only times in recent history I hadn’t drunk alone.

  Fuck.

  How was it possible I’d hit rock bottom and hadn’t realized it? At least I’d managed to keep passing grades. Barely, though.

  “Thank you.” I hoped he understood I wasn’t just referring to the car. My gaze landed on his, and it was met with understanding

  After a beat, his grin reappeared. “Anytime. But I meant what I said about not messing up the seats… and about what’s in the glove box.”

  I flipped him off. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

  Though I tried to keep my thoughts clean, I couldn’t after that conversation. But one thing was certain. If I ever did end up naked with Rachel, it would be for much longer than thirty minutes. Hell, it would take hours for me to inspect her body and count every freckle.

  I returned to Rachel, scooped up her bag from the floor, and offered my hand to help her up. “Let’s go.”

  She took a second to let Katie know she was leaving, then we headed out to the parking lot. She slowed as we approached the Camaro. “Whoa.”

  “This is actually Carson’s car,” I said. “I don’t want to mislead you.”

  She looked at me out of the side of her eye. “Do I seem like the type of girl who cares about what kind of car people drive?”

  I shook my head. She didn’t, but all the same, letting her think the car was mine didn’t sit right with me. “Where do you live?”

  “Ridge View Apartments.”

  While I checked the mirror placement, she ran her fingers along the leather seat. “This is like butter.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just saying that you didn’t care about cars?”

  “Correction—I don’t judge people on what they drive. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate nice cars. I bet the sound system is sweet.” She reached out then stopped herself before touching the controls. “May I?”

  “Go ahead.” After all, Carson had only said not to mess up his seats. He didn’t say anything about the sound system. Not that I thought she was going to mess it up.

  She fiddled with the controls, muttering about satellite radio, until she found a song she liked. Then she cranked it up.

  It was a song by some boy band from the nineties. NSYNC? Backstreet Boys? Hell if I knew. I was embarrassed I even knew the names of those two.

  She must have noticed my expression because she laughed. “Would you be embarrassed if I rolled down the window so everyone could hear what we’re listening to?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Everyone knows this is Carson’s car, so anyone who knows us will think it’s him in here.”

  Laughing, she rolled down the window and belted out the chorus at the top of her lungs. For someone who’d been so sleepy ten minutes earlier, she sure was awake now.

  When the song ended, she turned the volume down to a more subdued level. “Sorry. I love singing in the car, but the speakers in mine are shot.”

  “Replacing car speakers isn’t hard,” I said. “If you get new speakers, I can install them for you.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but it’s just a minor daily bummer. No big deal.”

  It might not be a big deal, but I was willing to go out of my way to fix her speakers for her if it would make her days a little brighter. I got the impression she’d been having a rough time lately.

  “If you change your mind—”

  Rachel pointed. “Turn here.”

  Shit. I was so busy paying attention to Rachel that I’d almost missed the turn. Damn, the Camaro cornered nicely. I drove a truck. Fast cars were all right, I supposed, but not my kind of vehicle. I preferred to sit higher up on the road.

  Rachel pointed to the third building in the row. “It’s that one.”

  I pulled to a stop in front of the building.

  She hesitated. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

  “Could I get your number?” The words fell out of my mouth in a rush. Smooth, Jake, really smooth.

  She hesitated a split second before smiling, but it was long enough to have me backtracking. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” Damn, I’m out of practice. She’d seemed into me, but I could have misread the situation.

  “It’s not that. It’s just that I have a boyfr—well, not exactly, but I’m sort of seeing someone.” Her voice was filled with regret, so I took the inch she’d given me with the intention of turning it into a mile.

  “Sort of?” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood so I didn’t feel like an idiot. “That sounds ambiguous.”

  “It is. I mean, I think I’m breaking up with him, except he’d have to be my boyfriend for us to break up, but—” She sighed. “I sound like a total moron. But my point is that I’m not free to see anyone right now. But I might be. Soon.”

  I chuckled. “How about this? I’ll give you my number, and you can text me if you get free.”

  She flashed a grateful smile and pulled out her phone. I rattled off my number, and she programmed it in.

  “Thanks again for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

  “It was my pleasure, Rachel.”

  She hopped out of the car and darted up the steps. I waited a good thirty seconds to make sure she had time to safely get into her apartment. Then I scrubbed my hands over my face. I used to be smoother with the ladies. Hell, I used to be smoother with life in general. It was time to get my shit in order.

  A light illuminated a third-floor window, which I assumed was her apartment. A moment later, the blinds parted. She peeked out and waved. I grinned. Maybe I wasn’t that rusty. If I were a betting man, I’d bet money that I would be hearing from her soon.

  CHAPTER 4

  Rachel

  MY BROTHER WAS waiting for me at the curb. Thank goodness. Finding parking on the residential side of campus without getting a ticket was nearly impossible. I stopped in the middle of the road so he could run out and get in. After returning the rude hand gesture to the driver behind me, we were off.

  “Where do you want to go?” I asked. Eli was a freshman and didn’t have a car, so I tried to take him out to dinner a few times a month just to get him off campus.

  He tapped his fingers together as though he were seriously contemplating the question. I held in a snort. Eli was type A personality, so no doubt he not only knew where he wanted to go but had also previewed the menu in advance and decided what he wanted to order. “How about Mexican?” he asked. “This campus has a severe shortage of edible Me
xican food.”

  “On it.” I hung a right on Main Street.

  “Uh…” Eli pointed to my dash. “Should that light be blinking like that?”

  “Damn.” That stupid check-engine light was on more often than it was out. The guys at Advance Auto knew me by name because I went there so frequently to ask them to pull the error codes for me. Greta the Jetta was a drama queen when it came to using the check-engine light. Most times, it was on for something stupid that didn’t actually need attention.

  I stroked the steering wheel. “Just get me through two more years, Greta. Then we can put you out to pasture.”

  Eli pressed on the ceiling panel fabric, which was hanging so low, it almost touched his head. “Greta has seen better days.”

  “Greta is driving your ass to get Mexican food,” I huffed. “Show some respect.”

  “I meant no disrespect.” He inspected the ceiling further. “If you don’t care if we slice this, I bet we could just glue it back to the ceiling.”

  “Probably,” I agreed. “I’ll have to ask the guys about it.”

  Eli’s eyebrows quirked up. “The guys?”

  “Bill and Manny at Advance Auto. We’re on a first-name basis.”

  “Those are important people to know… for Greta’s sake.”

  I pulled into the parking lot and guided Greta into a spot. “Amen to that.”

  Once seated in the restaurant, I got all the big-sisterly questions out of the way. “So, how are your classes?”

  “Good for the most part, but I’m worried my sculpture won’t be done in time.”

  Eli was an art major. His preferred mediums were paint and canvas, so it had surprised me when he told me he was submitting a sculpture for the freshman art show. He’d said he wanted to challenge himself.

  I ripped the paper off the end of my straw, put the straw up to my lips, and blew. The paper hit Eli in the eye. Bull’s-eye! Um… Eli’s eye! “You’ll get it done. You always say you won’t, and then you do.”

  “No, I—”

  “Yes, you do. Every… single… time.”