Matters to Me: A Football Romance (The Hart Series Book 4)

by M. E. Carter

  Applause breaks out as Ellery finishes up her routine. She runs off the floor, straight to me, and I give her a quick, congratulatory hug.

  “What’s going on, guys?” she asks, getting between Con and I. Man, I’m starting to love her.

  “Nothing,” Con answers with a smirk. “Nothing at all.”

  He saunters away and Ellery looks at me quizzically.

  “You don’t want to know,” I grumble and strip my warm-up pants off, folding them on top of my duffle and pick up my water bottle. That old familiar feeling of anger courses through me again.

  Why the fuck does Con care so much about who I date? He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t respect me. He clearly doesn’t like me. But what the hell have I done that makes him so vicious? It makes no sense at all. It’s infuriating, and I’ll be damned if a guy like Con is going to jack with my mental health for shits and giggles.

  Glancing back over at Heath, he’s ignoring the co-ed next to him. Even from here, I can tell his eyes are focused on me, which means he witnessed that entire exchange, and he doesn’t look happy about it.

  Before I can stop myself and while having some sort of out of body experience, which is the only way I can explain why I even think this next move is a good idea, I raise my hands up and flash Heath a heart sign.

  “Give me a fucking break,” Con grumbles behind me with a condescending laugh.

  Low and behold, that wasn’t the dumbest thing I’ve done all day after all. Not when Heath responds by bringing his first two fingers to his mouth, kissing them, then pointing those fingers at me like he’s tossing me his kiss.

  Ellery gasps. “I thought you were just pretending to date him to get Con off your back,” she whispers.

  I shrug and then glance over my shoulder to see a furious Con, eyes blazing. I just roll mine in response, like he’s not worth my time. Because he’s not. In my head, I know this. But I admit it feels good to put him in his place. Especially since he’s up on vault and now his mojo is thrown off.

  Sauntering onto the runway, I watch as Con gets in place, salutes the judge, and runs at full speed toward the apparatus. As soon as his feet hit the springboard, I know he’s screwed up. The sound of the springs was just… off somehow. And if the sound is off, it means his hit was off. And that means a domino effect of everything else.

  In less than two seconds, his skill is complete, and he’s landed safely, but with two giant jump steps forward. That’s going to be a huge deduction and could potentially cost him the all-around spot. Today isn’t decision day of course, but if someone outshines Con, a mistake like that landing will be taken into consideration.

  I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face. Sucks for him.

  Returning my focus back to the task at hand, I avoid watching Layla as she finishes her floor routine, instead bending forward to stretch my hamstrings. Just one more competitor to go before it’s my turn, and I have a feeling I’m going to shine.

  TEN

  Heath

  I don’t know why Jaxon and I agreed to go out for seafood after the meet. It’s tasty and all, but we burn too many calories to eat eight shrimp for dinner. So, I ordered five servings. This meal is going to cost me my entire week’s allotment of food money, and I’ll probably still leave here hungry. Looks like the dining hall will be the only place I can eat this week since it’s included in my scholarship. Fingers crossed they have steak night again. Hell, I wouldn’t mind if steak night ended up being tonight after we’re done here. Damn tiny fish.

  I would have suggested something else a little more filling, but Lauren wanted to celebrate her success at the meet, and I didn’t have it in me to bring her down. Not with the excitement she had after some amazing routines. Even that big fall off the bars didn’t faze her. Of course, it was overshadowed by that stunt with the tiny douche. I don’t know for sure, but I have a feeling she’s the reason he choked on vault. I may not know a lot about gymnastics, but I know the goal isn’t to take all those steps at the end of a skill, and after what she told me a couple of weeks ago, I doubt it was coincidence it happened right after I blew her a kiss.

  Yeah, that was weird. I’m not even sure why I responded like that when she flashed a heart sign my direction. It was this strange automatic reaction I had. But something in her eyes told me she was really pissed off by something he said for her to risk blowing her own cover. She didn’t know how I would react to the impromptu gesture, but I couldn’t not play along. Even from a distance, I knew he was back to harassing her again.

  I’m glad I responded the way that I did. Especially after seeing the floor exercise she was so excited to nail. I’m still not sure how those two things connect—Conrad Turner and success on her floor exercise—but, hey, I have lucky socks I wear during the season. I have no room to judge anyone else’s process or superstitions. I do have one question, though.

  “What was that thing you did?” I ask, as I dunk one of my last remaining shrimp in some red sauce. I could probably eat forty more and still not be full.

  “Which thing?” Lauren doesn’t look up from her fish, probably starving as well from the meet. I knew gymnasts were hardcore, but today’s the first time I’ve actually gone to watch what they do live and in person. I thought I was a badass. It’s no wonder Lauren’s got a six-pack.

  Trying to explain what I’m thinking of, I say, “You were on the floor and did a flip or something. Then you jumped up in the air in like a cheerleader straddle and belly flopped on the floor.”

  Lauren laughs around her bite of fish, and finishes swallowing before she answers. “That wasn’t a belly flop.”

  “Faceplant. Whatever.”

  She giggles again, this time with our friends joining in, but how the hell else can I explain it?

  “It’s a Shushunova.”

  “Shoesha-what?”

  “Shushunova. You don’t land on your face. You land in a front support. It’s almost like ending in a pushup or a plank.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it looks like it hurt.”

  Lauren drops her fork on her empty plate. “Not at all. I’m not doing it on concrete. That floor is made of plywood and springs. There’s a lot of give.”

  Looking up at her, I raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, you cheat.”

  “Hey,” she counters, “I didn’t design the thing. Don’t hate the player.” Leaning forward, her normally cool-as-a-cucumber mask falls briefly, and her tone is suddenly full of excitement. “Wanna know something cool?”

  Something about the way her eyes and her smile are lighting up has me absolutely wanting to know something cool. I nod.

  “I wasn’t supposed to do the Shushunova. It just sort of… happened.”

  Annika looks over quickly, putting her glass down as she swallows a drink of her Diet Coke. “What do you mean? How can you accidentally do something like that?”

  “You know how Con has been making my life…” Lauren stares up at the ceiling, probably trying to find another word for living hell. “…difficult?”

  Not the description I would have gone with, but it’s not my story so we’ll go with that.

  “Yes,” I say at the same time Annika responds with “no.” We look at each other momentarily, but Lauren distracts us as she continues.

  “He was pulling the same bullshit before my routine. I know you saw it, Heath.”

  I can feel myself getting pissed again. I wasn’t for sure but figured that’s what was going on and didn’t like watching it as it happened. It wasn’t the time or place for another showdown, however. Still, I don’t like hearing about it after the fact either. Something about Lauren has been making me feel protective lately. It’s part of the reason I didn’t want to get involved with this situation. I don’t need the distraction.

  But time and distance didn’t do a damn thing to change the way it all makes me feel, so I’ve concluded it’s easier to roll with it. “Sure did. Took everything in me not to go down there and step on him.”

  �
�Wait,” Annika interrupts. “You saw what? And why do you care? I’m so confused.”

  Lauren pats her arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter,” Annika argues, eyes practically blazing with anger. “What he did to you before, that’s not okay.”

  Lauren puts her trademark “nothing bothers me” smile on her face and I suddenly realize it’s her go-to move when an issue is too painful, and she wants someone to back off. “You’re right. But I’m fine.”

  Annika opens her mouth to speak, still looking furious.

  “Anyway, after you blew that kiss…”

  “What?” This time Annika and Jaxon both chime in, each of them looking like they’re missing a big piece of this puzzle. We ignore them and Lauren continues like she didn’t hear their reaction.

  “…I was raging. Not at you,” she clarifies, to which I nod in understanding. “Just at the whole situation. You know how you get so angry, you’re practically seeing red, and if you don’t hurry up and channel it into something productive, you just might lose your mind?” She knows I do. We’ve talked about it a couple of times. “That’s how it felt right before I did my routine. He just makes me… Grrrrr!”

  Lauren grits her teeth and clenches her fists together, getting upset all over again. I reach over and put my hand on hers. It’s the first time I’ve ever done that voluntarily, and I’m shocked by how good it feels. Her hand is warm but not soft. Her fingers have obviously been banged up and scarred from the intensity of her sport. But it’s not a turn-off. Quite the opposite. It’s kind of a turn-on to know she puts her all into being an athlete. Into her team. Into her individual accomplishments in the gym.

  She takes a couple of breaths and finally looks up at me. Smiling shyly, she pulls her hand away. I miss the contact, but she’s calm now. She doesn’t need me anymore.

  Sitting up straight, the indifferent, flirty Lauren returns to finish her story, still ignoring a gaping Annika who looks like she has a million questions about what’s going on here.

  Get in line, Annika.

  “Anyway, in laymen’s terms, my anger combined with the adrenaline of it being an actual meet with scoring made me over-rotate my front salto. So, I just sort of added the Shushunova at the last second to make it look like I did it on purpose.”

  “You just… added that face-plant thing,” I joke, fascinated that she was able to get her body to randomly do some extra skill without even thinking about it. I suppose I do the same thing when I’m on the field, but I’ve never had to “land” anything when I do it. Just fall the right way.

  Lauren giggles lightly. “What else was I going to do? Take a bunch of giant steps and throw myself out of bounds? It was just as easy to change direction. Plus, I upped my point value. Coach was pumped about it!”

  The three of us just look at her, thoroughly confused.

  She glances around at us and rolls her eyes. “I really need a friend who follows gymnastics.”

  “You have a friend who follows gymnastics,” Annika says flatly. “But right now, that friend is not focused on the gymnastics part of the conversation. She’s sitting here confused about what the hell is going on with you two.” She points back and forth at Lauren and me, lips pursed in annoyance.

  Lauren and I look up at each other, neither of us speaking. I wish I knew what she was thinking because I don’t know what to say. The short answer is nothing. Nothing is happening. The four of us are hanging out together, which isn’t unusual.

  There’s a longer answer here, though. I just don’t know how to explain it. Probably because I don’t understand it myself.

  Lauren beats me to it before I can even try. “There’s nothing going on… exactly. Con is a dick, which you already know,” Annika nods in understanding, “so Heath set him straight one night.”

  “You didn’t tell me this.” Jaxon wipes his hands on a napkin, suddenly interested in the conversation. Likely his concern is less about gymnastics team drama and more about me and my single-minded focus on football. Me getting involved in a situation like this isn’t something I would normally do. I shrug and toss a hushpuppy in my mouth, content with letting Lauren continue.

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” she says, downplaying how stressful it was for her. “No punches were thrown. No security was called. Just some words tossed around and letting the asshole come to his own conclusions.”

  “Is that why you threw that finger-heart-thingy up in the air at the meet?” Annika asks. “Are you letting Con believe you guys are together, so he’ll back off?”

  This time it’s Lauren who shrugs. “That’s the basics of it, yes.”

  “But… why? I thought you didn’t care what anyone thinks? Is he making life that difficult for you?”

  Annika asks the question that’s been haunting me for a few weeks now. Lauren goes on to explain the whole anger creating power thing she keeps using as her reasoning. I get it. I just don’t buy it. Maybe it’s because I caught her in a vulnerable position on her walk of shame, but ever since that morning, I see her differently. It’s like she has a wall around her that I never saw before until one of the bricks came loose, and now, I know everything is not as it seems with her. She’s more fragile than she lets on. That part is very clear.

  “I’m just able to focus so much better now. Plus, as long as Con thinks Heath and I are together, he’s off his game, which is just bonus fun for me,” Lauren concludes with a smile on her face.

  Annika and Jaxon, however, aren’t smiling. Jaxon looks more confused than ever, but Annika looks equally worried.

  “I never know what to expect from you,” Annika finally says, shaking her head, “but this has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve ever told me.” She’s obviously decided not to say what makes her concerned, instead focusing on us. “You two don’t even like each other.” Jaxon seems to agree and doesn’t that make me just feel like shit, since I’m the one solely responsible for why people assume we’re enemies.

  Lauren, on the other hand, does what she does best—rolls her eyes. “I never didn’t like Heath. It just took him some time to get used to me, so I made myself scarce around him,” she explains like I’m not sitting right across from her, feeling guilty over how dismissive I’ve been to her and how it took a guy treating her like a toy to be fought over for me to care. What kind of man am I if I can’t look past a personality conflict to treat someone like a human being? A shitty one.

  Lauren doesn’t seem to notice or care about my internal conflict, though. She’s still too excited about her success.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. Heath and I found some common ground, so we’re okay now. Right, Heath?”

  She’s smiling as she steers the conversation back to the results of the meet, but the look on her face is still hiding something. Disappointment or sadness or discouragement. I can’t tell, probably because it’s in such stark contrast to her words and lingering adrenaline. But it’s there. Deep down and for whatever reason that I can’t seem to put a finger on right now, I want to fix it. I don’t want her to struggle with it. I don’t want her to have to deal with guys like Conrad and his gang of wannabes and be forced to put up a front just to survive while doing something she loves. I want her to feel strong, and if I need to be the backbone for her until she can do it on her own, that’s what I want to be for her.

  I can almost feel the words as they bubble up, but I can’t stop them when I blurt out, “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

  The three people I spend most of my free time with stop their conversation that has since turned to the merits of leftover seafood to stare at me. Jaxon and Annika look equally shell-shocked and confused.

  A smile slowly stretches across Lauren’s face and it makes me feel like I’m doing the right thing. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat, feeling oddly shy about having this conversation in front of my friends. “It keeps that dick off your back, but it benefits me, too. If I’m official
ly off the market, then I can focus too. Not spend all my time fighting off football groupies.”

  Lauren cocks an eyebrow at me, so I turn to Jaxon for confirmation.

  “You know what I’m talking about. You’re there.”

  Jaxon shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not every day, but I can see how letting the rumor mill do its thing might help eliminate some of those issues. Hell, that girl today was obnoxious. I could go without chicks like her hanging around.”

  Annika swats him gently. “That’s not very nice. She was just being flirty.”

  Jaxon gives her a disbelieving look. “That wasn’t flirty, babe. She was making her intentions very clear. You didn’t give her your numbers, did you?”

  “Hell, no,” I practically shout. “I have a girlfriend, remember?”

  I wink at Lauren as I toss the last of my food in my mouth. Annika mutters something like, “So weird.”

  It is. But oddly, I don’t care. Having a fake girlfriend is going to benefit both of us.

  ELEVEN

  Lauren

  “Dating” Heath is no hardship, but I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as I do either. The only things I knew about him is he’s Jaxon’s friend, he’s a business major of some sort, and his football stats. That’s it.

  Sure, I had assumed he was a good guy, being that he went above and beyond for our friends over the summer when things were at their roughest, but was that because he’s like that in general or because he cares about Jaxon? I didn’t know.

  Until now.

  When he finally came around to my way of thinking, I expected him to walk me to a couple of classes or put his arm around me at a couple of football parties.

  What I never expected was him to search me out and sit with me in the dining hall. Or walk me back to my dorm from gymnastics practice. Or to hold my hand on the way to class. But he does almost daily. Quite frankly, Heath Germaine has taken this whole fake boyfriend thing more seriously than I expected. Not that I have any complaints. It’s been fun getting to know him. He’s not quiet, per se, but he kind of fits the mold of the strong, silent type. He’s an observer, always watching what people around him are doing. It doesn’t come across as paranoia. It’s more like an interest in people and what they’re up to.