Looking To Score: #UofJ Book 1- An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy Sports Romance (U of J)

by Alley Ciz

  Now if only we could get a certain blonde-haired friend of his to join us as well.

  Where the hell did that thought come from?

  “Hey, turn down the TV,” G tells Noah as his Mac rings with an incoming FaceTime call. “Hey, Mama.” The woman he greets doesn’t look old enough to have a son in college.

  “Hey, baby!”

  “Dude, that’s your mom? How the hell are you so dark?” Kevin asks.

  “For real, bro. You’re darker than me,” Alex adds, coming over to hold his arm next to Grant’s, looking from them to the screen.

  The rich brown hue of Grant’s skin wouldn’t hint at coming from a mixed background, but the warm brown eyes blinking at us from the computer are unmistakably the same.

  “Because, you idiot, my dad is super dark. Now shut up so I can talk to my mama.” Grayson turns his attention back to the screen.

  “Where are you, baby?” Mrs. Grayson asks in a deep Southern accent.

  “Hanging out at the frat with some of the guys.”

  “Oh.” The smile on her face dims. “It’s Friday—you’re not with Kay?”

  The mention of Skittles grabs my attention. Why can’t I get her out of my head? Women have always been for a physical release and that’s it. I take my pick of one of the many volunteering themselves as tribute to service my dick and then send them on their way.

  No emotional connection or messy feelings for this guy. The last thing I need is to let some woman into my life, bringing all kinds of drama with her and messing with my game. Don’t even get me started on what Trav and I went through in high school.

  “I was with her last night.”

  He was? The slimy swirl of something I’m not familiar with starts to form in the pit of my stomach.

  “That’s right.” Humor flashes behind Mrs. Grayson’s eyes. “Do you have to tease your brother when Kay cooks for you?”

  “Does Dante have to hit on Kay any time he sees her?” Grant counters.

  Excuse me?

  Mrs. Grayson lets out a breath and narrows her eyes. Uh oh. Looks like she’s ready to give her son a piece of her mind. “I don’t know why you don’t ask her out, Grant.”

  Say what now?

  “Who?” The octave of Grayson’s voice rises with his eyebrows. “Kay?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, young man. Yes, Kay.”

  Do they feel that way about each other? Since that first time I noticed them at The Nest, I’ve spotted them together around campus off and on. There is an easy affection there.

  Wait—why do I care?

  “You know it’s not like that between us, Mama.”

  “Who’s Kay?” Alex asks.

  “Grayson’s best friend,” I explain, hoping he’ll shut up so I can listen to what Grant has to say.

  “You’ve met her?” Kevin asks.

  “Yeah, we have a class together.”

  “She cooks?” Of course Trav would pick up on that fact. Dude is ruled by his stomach.

  “Is she hot?” I don’t know why, but I feel a surge of possessiveness at Noah’s question.

  Do these jockholes ever shut up?

  “She’s beautiful and my son is an idiot for not locking it down.” Mrs. Grayson crosses her arms.

  “Don’t use phrases like locking it down, Mama.” Grayson massages the bridge of his brow.

  By now all the guys have crowded behind the couch to see Grant’s mom on the screen.

  “Back off, assholes.” He shoves them back when his laptop gets jostled.

  “Grant Samuel, you watch your mouth,” Mrs. Grayson scolds.

  “Ooo, middle-named,” Trav teases, pretending to ruffle Grant’s fade.

  “Bite me.” He hits him with an elbow. “Mama…you know she’s like a sister to me.”

  Well that’s a relief.

  Wait…

  What?

  Fuck me.

  “I know. Lord knows I’d adopt her and make it official if I could.”

  “E would never allow it.”

  Who’s E?

  “I feel like we need to know more about this sister of yours.” Noah leans forward on his elbow, putting his face between mine and Grant’s only to have it shoved back.

  “Do I need to take this to my room so I can finish this call without you as—er, guys interrupting every two seconds?”

  Grayson tries to come across tough, but his mama is highly amused if the beauty-pageant-worthy smile she’s sporting is any indication.

  “Buzzkill,” Trav complains, but everyone reclaims their original seats. I do notice that they keep their attention on Grayson and not the game on the TV.

  “Mama, why don’t you call her? Bette is up this weekend so she’s not working.”

  Who’s Bette?

  “Heavens to Betsy, I would never intrude on her family time. She gets such a limited amount of it as it is.”

  Why?

  What the fuck, Nova? Why do you care?

  Shit!

  Wondering about a woman’s family situation is not on my checklist for bed partners.

  Attractive, ready, willing, not so drunk they can’t enthusiastically consent—that’s what matters.

  “Whatever you say.” I recognize Grayson’s look and tone; I have used it many times with one Grace Nova-Roberts, aka my mom. “I don’t think she would mind. I’ve been getting text updates all night. It’s making me kind of jealous.”

  I’m still struggling to wrap my head around how he can be so close to a person I had no idea existed.

  “No. I’ll wait for the next time you two are together. I’ll get to see two of my three kids that way.”

  “I’ll see her Sunday for the Empire/Crabs game. We can FaceTime then if you want?”

  “Oh that would be wonderful, sweetie.” Her face lights up at the idea. “Well, I’ll let you go. Love you, baby.”

  “Love you too, Mama.”

  Well that conversation was both informative and completely lacking in information.

  “Dude, you’re a total mama’s boy.” Kevin knocks Grayson in the shoulder after he hangs up.

  “And damn proud of it, fucker. Mama is the best,” he states proudly.

  “Forget that. Tell us more about this chick Kay. How hot is she?” Alex is always on the prowl for a conquest.

  Like Noah’s inquiry about Kay, Alex’s interest makes me grind my back molars.

  Grayson levels Alex with a hard stare. “Kay is off limits to you douchebags.”

  “If she’s your best friend, have we met her at an AK party?” Kevin looks like he’s mentally flipping through all of the frat’s past events.

  “No. Frats aren’t really her scene.”

  “You’ve been holding out on us, man,” Alex complains.

  “No I haven’t. You assholes wouldn’t have a chance with her anyway. Just ask Nova how he’s struck out.” He nudges me in the side with an elbow.

  “I’ve never hit on her, dude.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Please…when I first met her, I thought she was your girlfriend.”

  “True, but I see you trying to get under her skin. Sorry bro, but it’s not gonna work.” Yeah, he looks real choked up about it too—not. “She tends to stay away from the football set.”

  “She doesn’t like football?” Noah’s tone says How is that possible?

  “Wait.” Trav makes a T with his hands, signaling for a timeout. “Didn’t you tell your mom you’re going to the Empire/Crabs game with her on Sunday?”

  “She likes football. The players…not so much.”

  Well if that isn’t a kick in the jockstrap.

  “Is that why she ran away at lunch yesterday?” I ponder.

  “Hang on…you’ve talked to her outside of having class with her?” Trav looks at me like I just broke bro code. I’m not sure why I haven’t said anything to him. I guess it’s because of how unsettled she makes me feel.

  There was also that one time… Even my inner coach knows not to finish that thought.
r />   Now Kev cuts in. “Hold up—why’d you think she was Grant’s girlfriend?”

  “Wait a minute.” Alex raises his hands, not letting me answer. “Is she the super-short blonde girl I sometimes see you with around campus?”

  “Yeah,” Grayson confirms.

  “Dude, she looks like you could carry her around in your pocket.”

  Alex’s comment sets off a round of laughter. It’s funny because it’s true.

  “Man.” Trav shakes his head, still chuckling under his breath. “I can’t wait to meet this chick. If she’s not falling for Casanova’s charm, she must be special.”

  He’s not wrong.

  Again—what the hell?

  “Is she on your IG?” Noah pauses in scrolling through his phone.

  “Bro, stop stalking.” Grayson smacks him upside the head.

  Wisely, I keep my mouth shut. No one needs to know how many hours I’ve spent trying to internet-stalk Kay. It’s a good thing I want football to be my day job, because I suck at digging up dirt online. Other than a handful of pictures of her on Grayson’s account, I couldn’t find a social media footprint.

  Strange or intriguing—I can’t decide which side of the line that fact falls on. What person our age doesn’t have social media?

  #Chapter9

  Pinky isn’t even fully shifted into park when Bette comes rushing out the front door of my childhood home.

  “Kay! I missed you so much.” She pulls me in for the world’s hardest hug.

  “It’s only been a few weeks.” My voice is muffled as I’m currently being smothered by her chest, but that doesn’t prevent me from returning her embrace with the same ferocity.

  How could my love for her be anything less than fierce with how she stepped up for me when our family lawyer told us I would need to go into the foster care system if we couldn’t find a suitable guardian to take me?

  “What if E and I got married? Could I also be Kayla’s legal guardian?” She asked the question to the attorney without any hesitation, unlike my returned, “Did you guys get engaged and forget to tell me?”

  “Whatever.” I get a pinch to the side as she takes my bag from me. “I still miss you like crazy.”

  “That’s because I’m your favorite Dennings.”

  She barks out a laugh. “Don’t tell your brother.”

  “Puh-lease, I tell him all the time.”

  Sibling rivalry at its finest.

  “I know.” She shoots me a satisfied grin. “It’s a good thing my husband loves me.”

  “That he does.”

  It is impossible for anyone, least of all my brother, not to love Bette. For one, she’s gorgeous. At five-nine, she’s model tall with the body to go with it, long wavy caramel-colored hair with blonde and auburn highlights throughout, and denim blue eyes.

  There’s also how she changed her entire life to raise her boyfriend’s kid sister and committed to keep their romance strong despite the long distance, along with her unwavering support of E’s career, all adding up—in my opinion—to the perfect woman.

  “Before you start buying and selling real estate, shouldn’t we make sure Mr. Dennings agrees with it?” was the next question from our family lawyer.

  E, proving he didn’t take one too many hits to the head on the football field, responded with, “Are you fucking kidding me? My girl just offered to uproot her entire life to take care of my sister—of course I’m marrying her. As soon as we’re done here, we’re going to the courthouse and I’m putting a ring on it.”

  Needless to say, Bette is hands down my favorite person of all time, with my brother as a close second most days.

  We ditch my stuff by the door in time for almost one hundred pounds of blond fur to hurl themselves at my body. The same core muscles I’ve honed to maintain my position at the top of a stunt keep me from falling to my ass as Herkie, the family yellow Labrador who was aptly named after the cheer jump, puts his large paws on my chest.

  “Aww, I missed you too, baby.” I give him a good head scratch as he slobbers all over my face.

  “Em still coming by?” Bette asks, leaving the two of us to our reunion and heading toward the living room.

  “Yup.” I check the time on my phone as Herkie follows my every step. My pooch is always glued to my side when we’re reunited. “Shouldn’t be much longer actually.”

  “What about Tessa?”

  “Nope. She’s, ya know, living her own life.” I chuckle. More often than not, if I’m in Blackwell, I’m with Tessa Taylor.

  “So she’s with Savvy.” It’s a statement, not a question, because if I’m not with T, you can find her with her bestie.

  My phone vibrates in my hand.

  EM: On my way! I hope Bette has her scissors! *brunette getting a haircut emoji*

  I hold it out to show my sister-in-law.

  “Oh yeah, I have all my stuff.”

  ME: *thumbs-up emoji*

  * * *

  EM: *GIF of Edward Scissorhands cutting hair*

  With Em on the way, we order Chinese and pull up an episode of Gilmore Girls, a re-binge favorite of Bette and myself.

  By the time I finish setting out what has to be half the items from the menu while Lorelai argues with Luke over coffee, Em arrives. She’s just in time for our gluttonous feast.

  “I brought wine,” Em announces, letting herself into the house.

  “How did you buy wine?” Bette asks, pausing with the carton of boneless ribs in hand.

  “Fake ID.” Em’s shrug says Duh.

  Bette cuts a look in my direction. “Yeah, I have one too.” No point in lying.

  Hear that sigh? Yeah, that’s 100% mom sigh right there. When she finally decides to open up a hole in her defensive line and let one of E’s swimmers through to make little football player babies with my brother, that kid is screwed.

  Dear future niece or nephew,

  I promise I’ll be the superest (I know, not a word), coolest aunt of all time, the GOAT of all aunts to make up for the fact that your mom honed her mom skills raising me. Oh, and I’ll have bail money.

  Love,

  Auntie Kay

  “What?” Uh-oh. Steer away from the mom glare. “We don’t go to frat parties. We need to be able to do something for fun.”

  Bette flubbers her lips as she blows out a breath. I’m not sure if it’s from the whole fake ID thing or because she’s frustrated I’m not having a “normal” college experience. I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s told me college isn’t high school, but…

  One of the things that made it easy to bond with Em was her aversion to the frat scene. When all our fellow co-eds were off getting drunk on Greek Row, the two of us would explore the local bars and clubs not far from campus.

  “As long as you always have a DD, I won’t argue.” We both nod. Another sigh, then, “Don’t tell your brother.”

  “Duh.”

  E would shit a brick if he knew I had a fake ID. Overprotective doesn’t come close to accurately describing how he is with me. If he could get away with dressing me in a habit and sending me off to the convent, he would.

  After everything that went down in high school, I’m sure he wishes he could lock me away in a protective bubble. I also think he wishes he could ban anyone with a penis from coming in contact with me.

  “I love this show.” Em points at the greatest mother-daughter duo in television with her chopsticks, flinging a lo mien noodle to the floor in the process. Herkie gladly gobbles it up.

  Living what at times feels like a double life makes nights like these—vegging out with people I don’t have to hide part of myself from—all the more special, though there are times I wish E would just sell this house and be done with it.

  Yet, as I glance around the room, at the mantel and shelves displaying our family’s timeline and E’s and my numerous accomplishments, I can understand why he doesn’t. No matter how many bad memories there are, the good far outweigh them. If only the bad were easier
to forget.

  “So…how are the new roommates?” I’m impressed we made it through half the food and a full bottle of wine before Bette started to fish.

  I mull over how to answer. I’m always honest with Bette, but at the same time, it is super easy to trigger her mama bear side when it comes to me.

  “Q—with the red hair you covet—is awesome. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as perky as her.”

  “Well, seeing as you pretty much grew up at The Barracks surrounded by cheerleaders, that’s saying a lot.” Someone’s got jokes tonight.

  “Yeah, she’s fun.” Even now, just remembering her over-the-top antics makes me smile. It is pretty much impossible to be in a bad mood around Q. “Also, I kinda”—I pinch my thumb and forefinger together so there are only millimeters separating them—“think she’s crushing on CK.”

  Em sputters into her wine glass. “You picked up on that too?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Poor CK.” Bette shakes her head, refilling her glass. “He’s not going to have any idea how to handle that, is he?”

  I shake my head. No, he’ll deny, deny, deny and fight it tooth and nail and push Q away the way he tried to do with me. I have faith that she’s up for the challenge, though.

  “What about the other roommate?”

  Why does my stomach feel wobbly like I’m in a stunt about to be dropped?

  “Bailey is…” My gaze bounces around the room, looking for the words to describe what I’m not even sure I feel.

  “Bailey?” Bette cuts in before I find them.

  “Huh?” Herkie lifts his head from my lap at my confusion, and I stroke his silky ear until he resettles.

  “You called her Bailey. Why not B?”

  Ah, that right there might be the crux of the problem.

  “I don’t know.” Honestly, I don’t. “She’s funny, comes up with these killer one-liners when you least expect them, but…”

  “She has a little bit of jersey chaser hidden behind her cheer uniform,” Em finishes for me. “What?” she asks when she sees my wide-eyed stare.