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

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Looking To Score: #UofJ Book 1- An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy Sports Romance (U of J) Page 15

by Alley Ciz


  Satisfied by his response, I let him off the hook—for now—and go back to watching the game.

  Hours later, after the game is over, the Hawks having beat the Wolverines by two touchdowns, G and CK are gone and I’ve showered, and I do something I never thought I would. I initiate a conversation with Mason.

  ME: Only 2 TDs? Slacker *crazy-faced emoji with tongue out*

  * * *

  MASE: I can’t be a ball hog, baby. Gotta spread the love.

  * * *

  ME: Didn’t take you for a gentleman.

  * * *

  MASE: I’ll show you my chivalry.

  * * *

  ME: Only YOU could make that a sexual innuendo.

  * * *

  MASE: *GIF of Chris Tucker in The Fifth Element dancing and saying, “All night long.”*

  * * *

  ME: *rolls eyes*

  * * *

  MASE: I love it when you roll your eyes at me, baby.

  * * *

  ME: *big sigh* Stop calling me baby.

  To be honest, I love it when he calls me pet names, which is the issue. Then again, that’s the problem with kryptonite—it’s your weakness.

  MASE: Why???

  * * *

  ME: Because I’m not your baby.

  * * *

  MASE: We’ll see about that.

  God he’s so cocky.

  And so, so bad for my self-control.

  ME: I’m surprised you’re texting me.

  * * *

  MASE: No one else I’d rather talk to. I’d call you if I wasn’t at the hotel bar with the guys.

  This is the Mason I’m having trouble wrapping my head around.

  The charming, attentive, not-at-all-the-Casanova-he’s-known-as guy.

  ME: Tell Trav that was one of the most BEAUTIFUL spirals I’ve EVER seen to Alex in the third, and tell Alex the breakaway it resulted in was its own type of beautiful as he crossed the goal line.

  * * *

  ME: Also tell Noah what a bomb! *bomb emoji* *football emoji* 55 yarder! HOLY SHIT!!!

  * * *

  ME: And tell Kevin I swear I felt the force of his sack in the fourth through the TV.

  While I wait for him to respond, I pull up another episode of Gilmore Girls. I’m laughing at Kirk doing one of his many odd jobs when the episode is cut off by a FaceTime call.

  Mase.

  I run my hand through my damp curls, trying to tame my hair, and accept the call.

  Mason, Trav, Noah, Alex, and Kevin are all jockeying for position in front of the camera.

  “Hi?” I answer, confused.

  “Skittles!” Mason shouts to be heard over the noise in the bar.

  I see Trav shove him in the shoulder before taking the phone. “Kay, what are you doing wasting your time talking to this fool when you clearly like me so much more?”

  More jockeying and Noah takes over. “No way, you two suck. She knows I can go the distance.”

  “Please. Who wants to sleep with the kicker?” Alex jokes from somewhere off to the side.

  Again another change of hands. “Ladies…she obviously needs a real man, and that’s me.” Kevin flashes me a flirtatious grin.

  My belly hurts from laughing at all their posturing. “Boys, boys, boys. Who says I want any of you?”

  “Ooo, you’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” Alex asks.

  Mason shoves his friends out of the way and reclaims his phone. “Will you assholes back off? I don’t even know why I let you jerks take my phone.”

  Mason looks hot as always. His ever-present backward ball cap is on his head, and his eyes sparkle with excitement even with exhaustion behind them.

  “I thought you said you weren’t able to call?” I tease.

  His dimples come out to play. “It is a little hard to hear you, but when I showed the guys your compliments, they kinda commandeered my phone.”

  “Aww, they love me.”

  His lips turn down in a frown. “Don’t encourage them.”

  “Who me?” I place a hand on my chest.

  “You still owe me an answer.”

  “I know.” I give him a wink. “I’m gonna let you go so you can celebrate with the team.”

  His eyes narrow, the light green color made more prominent by the thick black lashes surrounding them.

  Ooo, he’s all smolder-y.

  Time to go before my inner cheerleader has me agreeing to things I shouldn’t.

  “Bye Mase.”

  I hang up without waiting for a response. Almost as soon as I do, my phone pings with a text.

  MASE: You can’t avoid me forever. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to give me an answer.

  #Chapter28

  The adrenaline from our win against Michigan yesterday hasn’t eased as the plane rolls to a stop on the tarmac.

  Last year we were good, but the way we’re gelling now, there’s no way we won’t win it all this year.

  Brantley hasn’t stopped blowing up my phone since the game. Even now, a steady stream of texts and plans are coming through, the most recent a request for me to swing by the house to discuss what’s next.

  I love him and I appreciate all he does to help make this dream of mine come true, but man, it can be exhausting.

  I’ll admit, football is my life. Everything I’ve ever done can be traced back to trying to make it to the NFL one day.

  So why is it I’m pulling up Kay’s contact instead of my stepdad’s?

  ME: Honey I’m home!!

  * * *

  SKITTLES: Honey?? *rolls eyes* First babe, now honey?

  * * *

  ME: What, you don’t like pet names?

  * * *

  SKITTLES: Normally I would say you use them because you can’t remember my name, but as much as I wish you WOULD forget my name, you haven’t.

  * * *

  ME: So what’s the problem with them?

  * * *

  ME: And I could NEVER forget your name, Skittles.

  Trav claims the open seat next to mine on the team bus and laughs when he sees me texting. He doesn’t need to ask to know who it is. The bastard takes great pleasure in how immune Kay is to my charms.

  “Kay still giving you shit?” He doesn’t even attempt to keep the laughter out of his voice.

  “When isn’t she?” I return my best friend’s grin with one of my own.

  SKITTLES: Thankfully for the Hawks, you have more follow-through on the gridiron than you do in your “dating” life.

  Trav whistles through his teeth when I show him the screen. “Damn, bro. I take it you haven’t tried asking her on a date again?”

  “Haven’t had a chance with us flying out to Michigan.”

  “So ask her out for this Friday. It’s the last home game before we have to start reporting to the hotel early.” He jerks his chin toward my phone. “I just wouldn’t do it in a text.”

  Trav speaks with all the authority of the world’s best boyfriend. One—disastrous—relationship does not make him an expert, especially when he’s really as much, if not more of a manwhore as I am now—or at least was prior to meeting Kay.

  Well if that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “So whatcha doin?” he asks when he sees me typing out a new message.

  I may wait to ask her out until I see her in person, but there’s no way in hell I’m waiting to do that any longer than I already have to. Brantley can wait.

  ME: I’ll show you follow-through, babe.

  * * *

  ME: Whatcha doin?

  Trav rests his chin on my shoulder, blatantly reading the conversation.

  “Dude, you are so clueless when it comes to this chick.”

  “Shut it.”

  SKITTLES: Why should I tell YOU, “babe”?

  “Have I mentioned how much I like her?”

  “Back off.” I growl at my friend.

  ME: Skit…

  * * *

&nbs
p; SKITTLES: *rolls eyes* It’s football Sunday—what do you THINK I’m doing?

  * * *

  ME: I’ve told you you’re perfect, right?

  “Dude, your charm has never worked on her before.” Another annoying chuckle. “What makes you think it will now?”

  “Not helping.” I hold up a hand with my thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart. “And you’re this close to losing your best friend card.”

  SKITTLES: When will you learn I’m immune to your charm?

  Trav’s bark of laughter when he reads that particular message almost makes me go deaf. “Seriously love her.”

  ME: Want to watch the games together?

  * * *

  SKITTLES: It wouldn’t count as a date.

  * * *

  ME: Wouldn’t DREAM of it. I just want to see you.

  * * *

  SKITTLES: FINE. The guys are coming over too so I GUESS you can join.

  * * *

  ME: Trav says he’s coming too.

  * * *

  SKITTLES: Hi Trav!!! *smiley face emoji*

  Trav nudges me with his elbow. “See? She likes me.”

  Hopefully not too much.

  “Fuck off, bro, or I won’t bring you.”

  ME: Why does Trav get a smiley and not me??

  * * *

  SKITTLES: *rolls eyes* Bring beer.

  “I think she may have just replaced you as my best friend, bro.”

  I don’t have anything to say to Trav’s statement, because a part of me kind of feels the same way.

  After a quick stop at the liquor store for the requested beer, Trav and I arrive at Kay’s. We’re hit with the delicious aroma of chili as soon as we step inside, and on cue, both our stomachs let out an audible rumble.

  Spread out around the living room are all the people who make up our new crew of friends. My eyes track over each of their faces until they land on the one I’m searching for.

  Mine.

  Something—I’m not sure what—settles inside me when I spot her on the loveseat, loose GIRLS WHO LOVE FOOTBALL ARE NOT WEIRD THEY’RE A RARE GIFT FROM GOD shirt hanging down her arm and exposing her slender shoulder, legs sporting football-printed leggings thrown across Grayson’s lap. I frown when I spot an ice pack resting over one of her knees.

  “Beer here!” Trav calls out like a vendor at a baseball game.

  “Hey, T,” Kay calls back with a smile.

  “What, no hello for me?” I tease.

  “Well I’m happy to see Trav.” Her gaze does a pass over my body. “Still not sure how I feel about you.”

  She’s such a pretty little liar.

  “What happened to the knee, Short Stack?” Trav passes out a round of beers before putting the rest in the fridge.

  “Ooo, a crack about my size—how original.”

  I roll my eyes at them, Kay’s signature move rubbing off on me.

  “So what happened to the knee, Skittles?”

  “Nothing really.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Fell at work yesterday.”

  “Bad?” I don’t like the idea of her being hurt.

  “Nah, should be fine in a few days.”

  Grayson scoffs.

  “Shut it, you.” She pops him in the chest. “I swear all the men in my life are such babies.”

  “All the men in your life?” I arch a brow, projecting aloofness while I’m a riot of possessive jealousy on the inside. She is mine even if she doesn’t realize it yet, and I don’t share.

  She rolls her eyes—of course. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  Agree to disagree, but we can revisit this later.

  “Yeah, yeah, Skit. Let me see the knee.” I tap the ice pack.

  “It really is only a bruise.”

  “Then it won’t take long for me to check it out.”

  “Seriously?” Another eye roll.

  “Seriously, babe.”

  “Uck.” She complains but rolls up the leg of her pants, revealing her swollen kneecap and one hell of an ugly bruise.

  “Damn, babe.” I circle my thumb across her battered knee. “That can’t be fun to walk on.”

  “It does make things interesting.” She pushes me on the shoulder. “Now move, I have to pee.” She favors her leg as she gets up. “Grant Samuel Grayson, don’t even think about it,” she warns when he tries to pick her up.

  He puts his hands up and slowly sits back down.

  “Damn, full-named,” CK murmurs around his beer, causing the others to laugh.

  Each limping step she takes makes me want to scoop her up into my own arms. I do not like seeing her hurt.

  “There’s chili and brown rice in the crockpots on the counter. Help yourselves,” she calls out before stepping into the bathroom.

  Trav doesn’t waste any time loading up bowls for us, moaning around the first spoonful.

  “Who made the chili?” he mumbles between bites.

  “Kay,” Quinn answers.

  “Oh man, Mase.” He claims an open seat by Em. “You better lock this chick down.” He shovels in another spoonful.

  Trav may be ruled by his stomach, but I don’t need it telling me what I already know. Kay is mine. Time she recognizes it.

  She pulls up short when she sees me leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, and I don’t miss the way she checks out the muscles in my arms where they’re folded over my chest.

  I push off the wall and stalk in her direction. As much as she tries to put up a hard front and act like I don’t affect her, it all goes away the instant my lips touch hers.

  I pull back before I completely lose my head, and dazed gray eyes blink at me.

  “Mase?”

  I swear my dick twitches any time she says my name.

  “So what do you say, Skittles? Wanna go to dinner with me Friday night?”

  The smile I’m not used to seeing aimed in my direction spreads across her face, and fuck if it’s not the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Took you long enough.”

  Of course she couldn’t answer with a simple yes.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I brush a curl behind her ear. “Shut up and kiss me again, smartass.”

  And she does.

  I scoop her into my arms when we finally break apart. She may not have let Grayson help her, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to watch her struggle again.

  “Mase! What the hell are you doing? Put me down.”

  “My job.”

  “What does football have to do with carrying me?”

  See this? How she refers to football as my job? This is what makes her different. Her inherent understanding of what I’m meant to do is why I could never consider her a jersey chaser.

  “Nothing, but it’s my job to help take care of my girlfriend.” I’m shocked by how easy it was to say that. The word girlfriend hasn’t been in my vocabulary for a long time. I became practically allergic to it, but it’s like Kay is my EpiPen.

  “Now I’m your girlfriend?” she taunts from the cradle of my arms.

  “I thought we settled this.”

  “And I thought we cleared up the fact that you never actually asked.”

  “Isn’t that what I just did?”

  “No, you asked me on a date.”

  I rest my forehead on hers. “You’re killing me.”

  “So put me down.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not talking about holding your weight.”

  I spin on my heel, taking us to her bedroom instead of the living room. Clearly, we have a few things to straighten out, and I’d prefer to do it without an audience.

  Kicking the door shut, I stride over to the bed, settling her in my lap when I sit.

  “I told you, babe—I don’t date.” I stop her before she can butt in. “So all this”—I circle a finger in the air—“the texting, the late-night hangouts where we only study, the walking you to class even from a distance, the kissing in public…those are all ways for me to say to you, and eve
ryone else, that you are mine.”

  She drops her head and bangs it lightly on my chest. “Why is it that even when you say the most boneheaded things, you still manage to make me melt a little?”

  I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean it in a sexual way, but come on, I’m a guy—of course my mind goes there.

  “You’re melting? Can I feel?”

  “Mase.” The way she groans my name goes straight to my dick.

  I skim a hand over her legs and squeeze her body tighter against me. “Yeah, baby. Moan my name.”

  “You know what I mean.” She pinches my side.

  “I know.” I palm her ass. “You’re just so fun to tease. I think the better question is, do you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, even if you are a moron.”

  “You always say the nicest things to me.” I feel her laugh as I kiss her forehead.

  “Whatever. Can we please go back to watching football now?”

 

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