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

by Alley Ciz

  “Still happy with the new dorm?”

  Most people would think he was making small talk, but I know he genuinely wants to know the answers. We were always involved in each other’s lives growing up, but since Dad’s death, E makes a conscious effort to minimize the void left behind.

  “Oh yeah. Not that I don’t love Em, but it is nice having my own room to sleep in.”

  “I bet G loves that you have a kitchen.”

  A smile blooms remembering the other night when he and CK were over for chili. Yes, I can already anticipate many more nights of feeding them.

  “And the new roomies?”

  I reach for one of the rolls the server dropped off as I debate how best to answer. The crusty shell crinkles as I pull the warm bread apart, the scent of yeast and carby goodness hitting my nostrils as steam rises from the center.

  Em and I gave Bette the lowdown last night, but I’m not sure how much she has divulged to E given his insistence that it would be better for me to live at home. There’s always the risk something will set him off and he’ll throw me over his shoulder and move me out of the dorm, all in the name of protecting me.

  “They’re…going. I really like one. The other…I’m still feeling out, but so far we’ve had quite a few nights watching chick flicks.”

  “And The Barracks?”

  Finally, a topic I want to and can talk about for hours.

  The biggest reason E didn’t pressure me to apply to the University of Maryland only forty minutes from his home was because I wouldn’t be able to coach if I went there. I mean, sure, I could have found another all-star gym—the Maryland Twisters are multi-time World Champs—but The Barracks is like my second home.

  “They’re great. We have a new partner stunt base who’s amazing. Reminds me a lot of JT. His sister cheered with us last year, and he tried out for this season. His natural abilities are insane.”

  “How old?”

  “Sixteen. Big for his age, too. He’s killing it in partner stunting.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive.” E is as well versed in the intricacies of cheerleading as I am in football, so this isn’t just a passing comment.

  “I’ll have to send you some videos. It’s crazy how far he’s come since May. JT worked with him a lot before heading back to Lexington.”

  “Well, if he’s gonna learn from anyone, JT is the best around.”

  That’s not an opinion; it’s fact—at least according to the UCA and the judges at the UCA Partner Stunt Nationals.

  Bette draws lazy circles on E’s forearm while he plays with the ends of her hair. The two of them are always in contact with each other when they are close. I want that—not with my brother, of course, but with someone special.

  Like Mason?

  What the what? Is my inner cheerleader drunk or something? It’s the only way to explain that not-even-going-to-entertain-it suggestion.

  #Chapter12

  Usually the morning after an AK party—especially one after a win—I take advantage of my one day off from practice to sleep in.

  Not today. Instead, I’m already downstairs in the kitchen drinking a protein shake.

  Last night, I wasn’t feeling the whole party scene and called it an early night after two games of beer pong with Grayson.

  Don’t ask me why. If you do, I’m only going to tell you it’s because I was tired after the game and not because I had a certain blonde rainbow-haired sass queen on my mind.

  “What are you doing up already?” Grayson chooses now to step into the kitchen sporting the red, white, and blue of the New York Empire football team.

  “Didn’t you say Kay threatened your life if you wore Empire gear?” I shake my head at his ensemble.

  “Pfft.” He pops a shoulder. “That girl loves me—I’ll be fine. Plus, she knows me well enough to know there’s no way I’d go see my team play and not represent.”

  “Whatever you say, man.” I finish my shake and toss the cup.

  “I’m surprised to see you up so early after last night,” he comments as we head toward the front of the house.

  It’s because my dick was too busy fantasizing about what your best friend would feel like to sink itself into anyone else.

  Fuck me. Is that true?

  I have no clue.

  What I do know is thoughts like that are the quickest way to get my ass kicked.

  I also need to figure out how to get Kay out of my head before I end up never getting my dick wet again.

  Who locks himself inside his bedroom during a party? What kind of Cinderella bullshit was last night? Asleep by midnight—even I’m embarrassed by my actions.

  “Trav and I are going for a run. That is”—I look toward the staircase—“if he ever gets his lazy ass down here.”

  As if he heard us talking about him, Trav ambles down the stairs, a pretty Latina girl trailing in his wake. At least one of us got laid last night.

  “Mornin’, sunshine. About time you woke up.”

  “Whatever.” He flips me the bird. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

  Trav opens the door and kisses his hookup goodbye, ever the gentleman, even during the walk of shame. “Oh, what a pretty Jeep,” we hear her say as she steps outside.

  “Shit.” Grayson’s body straightens. “Is it pink?” he calls out.

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn.” He hustles toward the door. “Gotta go.”

  I follow behind, joining Trav on the front porch, and sure enough, there’s a bright pink Jeep parked at the curb with a familiar-looking blonde standing in the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t you know how to listen?” Kay shouts, hopping down from her vehicle.

  “Did you honestly think I would go to an Empire game and not represent, Smalls?” Grayson shakes his head. “You know better than that.”

  “That’s Grayson’s friend?” Trav steps to my side.

  “Yup.”

  “She’s hot,” he observes as she hugs Grant.

  I agreed wholeheartedly with Trav’s assessment even while part of me rebels at the thought of my best friend noticing her.

  My long-buried insecurities can’t take away from how attractive Kay makes a purple Crabs ball cap, hair hanging out the back in a curly ponytail, big purple hoop earrings all matching the Eric Dennings Crabs jersey knotted at her side.

  A tight end jersey. Interesting.

  If the top half wasn’t hot enough, there’s also the way her cutoff jean shorts display her toned legs to perfection before stopping at a pair of purple Chuck Taylors on her tiny feet.

  “Do you own Chucks in every color of the rainbow?” I can’t help but tease; it’s our thing.

  You shouldn’t have a thing with any girl, Nova. Football and football alone. That’s it. If it’s not easy pussy, move along.

  At the sound of my voice, she spins in my direction. When she gives me a smile, I feel like I’ve won the lottery. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  Her gaze tracks to Trav at my side. “Trav, this is Skittles. Skit, this is Trav.”

  Kay laughs—in my face.

  What the hell? I was being a gentleman, making introductions.

  “I know who QB1 is.” She rolls her eyes at me before turning to him. “Nice to meet you. My real name is Kay.”

  Trav gives her his lady-killer smile, which gets him a glare from Grayson and has me clenching my fists.

  I think I need to meet with the trainers. These urges are not normal.

  Kay notices Grant’s hard look and pulls him by the arm. “You’re riding with Bette.”

  “What? Why?”

  Kay stops dragging him, though I suspect he was moving willingly given their size difference.

  “I’m not letting you in my car wearing that.” She plucks at the offensive jersey.

  “Hold up.” I run my hands over my backward cap, leaving my hands cupped around the brim. “If you have room, why didn’t I get an invite?”

  Her smile widens, and my balls tingle at the mischievous g
leam in her stormy eyes. “Never gonna happen.”

  “Why not? We’re friends,” I counter.

  She does this cute little nose scrunch.

  Cute? Since when do you think girls are cute, Nova? Don’t make me call a flag on the play. You’re all out of challenges.

  “Not so much.”

  She tries to sound all confident, but it’s a lie. Her eyes keep shifting side to side, to where my biceps are popping like coconuts. She’s checked out the way my Property of U of J Football shirt stretches across my chest more than once too.

  Trav lets out a bark of laughter. “Damn, didn’t think I’d ever meet a girl who didn’t like Casanova.”

  “Congratulations, now you have.” Kay bows.

  “You know you like me,” I challenge.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  Another guffaw from Trav. Asshole.

  “If you don’t like me, why are you wearing a jersey for a tight end?”

  Another one of those eye rolls.

  “Just because I like a tight end on an NFL team doesn’t mean that extends to every tight end there ever was. Dennings happens to be my last name too. It has nothing to do with the position.”

  I hit her with a Sure it doesn’t look, and what do I get? You guessed it—another eye roll.

  “Just saying that eighty-seven looks good on you.”

  “It looks even better because it’s not yours, Casanova.”

  Trav is now slapping his knees he’s so highly entertained.

  “Come on, G.” Kay tugs on his jersey again. “We’re wasting tailgate time.”

  Grayson continues to the white Range Rover while Kay heads back to her Jeep.

  “Bye boys.” She waves and drives off.

  Trav turns to watch me as I watch the taillights disappear. I know what he’s thinking long before he speaks. “You like her.”

  “Who? Skittles?”

  He nods.

  “Yeah, she’s cool.” I pull my leg into a quad stretch.

  “You know what I mean.” He mirrors my actions. “It’s been a long time since you cared about what a girl thought of you.” He would know; he’s intimately aware of the last one. “You clearly do with this one.”

  No point denying it. Trav knows me better than anyone.

  “Can we run?”

  I need to do something to stop his annoying ass from talking. Too bad that strategy doesn’t work. We haven’t even made it out of Greek Row and he’s back at it.

  “So…you have a nickname for her, huh?”

  “And?”

  “Nothing.” I don’t like the way he’s pausing. “Just proves my point is all.”

  #Chapter13

  Lockers slam and the occasional towel snaps as two dozen men go through the process of showering then getting ready to head to class after a morning spent in the weight room.

  I’ve never been much of a student. Academia doesn’t get my jollies off like football, and I only really do the bare minimum needed to be eligible to play. So, the way I’m rushing through getting dressed to get to class early is unprecedented.

  Did I just see a pig fly?

  Two days. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen Kay, and a part of me—dare I say it—misses her. I barely know her and yet the campus playboy, Casanova himself, is missing a girl.

  Someone has a thing for Grayson’s “sister”.

  I don’t.

  To have a thing for her would mean I have feelings for her.

  I’m Casanova. I don’t catch feelings. I’m fully vaccinated.

  “Lunch later?” Trav asks as he meets up with me at the coffee cart.

  While the barista works on making my coffee and Kay’s—something I’m sure Trav will give me shit about—I spin to face my oldest friend.

  I love the guy. We have a bromance for the ages, and just like how Grayson thinks of Kay as his sister, I consider Trav my brother.

  I loathe the fact that there is a small, tiny, microscopic part of me that harbors a kernel of doubt over the whole Chrissy/Tina debacle. Then again, it’s a miracle we were able to salvage our friendship instead of letting it be destroyed by a two-timing bitch.

  The two of us may be known for our surface-level hookups, but we’re no longer led by our dicks enough to let a girl pretending to be someone else play us for a fool.

  “The Nest?”

  He arches a brow at the suggestion. Usually we meet at the athletic center where there are special meals meant to meet the nutritional guidelines for the school’s athletes. It’s not unheard of for us to be found at The Nest, just not typical.

  I keep to myself the fact that I want to dine there because Grayson, and therefore Kay, eat there and I’m looking to crash their table—again. A part of me hopes if I show up with reinforcements, she’ll be less likely to leave like the other day.

  “Sounds like a plan.” We bump knuckles as we split up for class.

  When I step into the lecture hall, I find Kay in our usual spot. Despite complaining about me sitting next to her, she hasn’t found somewhere else to sit.

  I take the stairs to our seats and place her coffee next to her laptop like I did last week. Again she looks up at me, surprised, before muttering a soft thank you without questioning it—progress.

  Class goes by quickly, and soon we’re meeting Grayson before I walk Kay to her next class. Well, that may be stretch. Sure, we walk in the same direction, but Kay keeps to the opposite side of the cobblestone path. I flash her my dimples and she rolls her eyes. This routine of ours we’ve settled into is nice.

  Nice? Is this thing on? *taps microphone* Do you hear yourself? Nice? Some Casanova you are.

  My English class drags on endlessly as the coach inside my head berates me for thinking of Kay as anything other than a hot piece of ass.

  I need to get laid. Then maybe he’ll be less of a cranky son of a bitch.

  Trav and I meet up outside The Nest, and after a quick detour for food, I search out the group. I find them at the same table as last week, tucked away in the farthest corner, almost hidden amongst the bustling crowd of co-eds.

  Only the top of Kay’s ponytail is visible with her head bent over looking at whatever textbook she and CK are conferring about. There’s only one seat open at the six-person table—luckily for me, it’s next to Skittles—and I snag it while Trav drags a chair over from another, positioning it at the end and straddling it.

  A few errant curls smack my cheek, getting stuck in my stubble as her head whips around to see who’s crashing lunch.

  Storm clouds swirl as she narrows her eyes at me before rolling them.

  I’m starting to live for making her roll her eyes.

  Especially if I can make them roll back in pleasure.

  “So…what?” She points to Trav but keeps her gaze locked on me. “You hoping we’ll let you stay because you brought backup?”

  “To be fair”—I drop an arm over the back of her chair—“they”—I circle a finger at her friends—“let me stay last time. I think the real question here is are you going to run away again?”

  My gaze falls to her mouth as her lips thin. Someone doesn’t like being called out for being a coward.

  “You’re annoyingly persistent.”

  “And you’re just adorable.” Her nose twitches after I boop it.

  Did I really just boop her nose?

  Oh, yeah, real smooth, Casanova.

  “What ever happened to the more the merrier?”

  Another eye roll.

  I chuckle and make the formal introductions for those Trav doesn’t already know.

  “I take it Mase invited himself to join your group?” Trav leans toward Kay like they are the best of friends, and I have to resist the urge to yank him away.

  “Yup.” Gray eyes dart to me then back to my best friend. “He’s like herpes—can’t get rid of him.”

  Trav chokes on his water, spraying the table.

  “Gra—” Cough. “Why haven’t yo
u brought this chick around before?” Another cough and a clearing of the throat. “She’s hilarious.”

  I pop Trav in the arm.

  “What?” He tries to give me an innocent look but fails. “It’s not every day I meet a girl who doesn’t fall under the Casanova spell. I like it.”

  He would. Besides, he’s one to talk. QB1 drops panties on campus like he completes passes on the gridiron.

  “I should have never told you to meet me here for lunch.”

  Trav lays a smacking kiss on my cheek. Fucker is lucky we can’t tackle him at practice.

  “I like your shirt.” He points to Kay’s orange Because Hogwarts Doesn’t Accept FAFSA tee. “I’m still waiting for my acceptance letter.”

  “You like Harry Potter?” She folds her arms across her open textbook, eyeing him skeptically.

  “Yup.” There’s zero shame in his response.

  “The movies?”

  “Books too.”

  Every eye at the table is bouncing between the pair, watching the way they stare each other down like an MMA fight promotion shot. It’s intense, silent, and weighted.

  “You can stay,” Kay declares. Then she points at me with her pen. “Jury’s still out on you though.”

  Oh, you’re gonna like me, baby, I promise.

  “To be fair.” Trav jumps to my defense as any good brother from another mother would. “Mase has read all the books too.”

  Boom. Mic drop.

  “Really?” Is there a fishhook in her eyebrow? Damn that thing is arched.

  “Gryffindor through and through.” I thump my chest twice. “Plus I bring you coffee in the morning—you have to keep me.” I lean back, dropping an arm on the back of her chair.

  Grayson’s eyes slide to her, giving her a look I can’t quite read.

  “You should take them to Lyle’s coffee shop. You know it’s a Potterhead’s dream,” Em suggests, earning herself an open invitation to any AK party should she want it.

  “You wanna go on a coffee date with me, Skittles?” I twirl a lock of her hair around my finger, letting the silky smoothness glide over my skin. “Makes sense for our first date. Coffee is our thing, after all.”

  Shit! I just admitted to us having a thing.