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

by Alley Ciz

  “Oh shit! Now it makes sense.” Charlie’s voice holds a note of surprise.

  “What does?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the game.

  “I was wondering what was up at The Nest yesterday.” He leans a hip against the railing next to me. “I didn’t realize I was with the famous girl dating Casanova.”

  “Famous?” This time I do turn around, giving Charlie an incredulous look.

  “I mean famous might not be the right word, but the school is buzzing about the girl who got Casanova to settle down.”

  Unlike the posts from the internet trolls, I don’t feel any malicious intentions behind his statement, just a general curiosity.

  “It’s only been a few weeks, so settled down might not be the right description.”

  “Well he sure seems settled enough to claim you.” He points to my back, the skin of which is burning like the black lettering is a brand.

  Unfortunately, Charlie isn’t the only one who’s noticing. I ignore the stares and watch a beautiful handoff to Alex for a first down.

  “Well looky-looky who’s all cozy again with her new boyfriend.”

  My shoulders hit my ears at the sound of Adam’s voice. I loathe this guy so much.

  “Go away, Adam. No one invited you.” I refuse to turn and give him a chance at getting close enough for another photo op.

  “I’m surprised, though. Thought you were more into dark meat.”

  I whip around so fast my hood flies off, jaw practically on the ground, completely at a loss for words. How the hell G stands being around this guy, I have no idea.

  “You. Are. A. Despicable. Human. Being.” I spit the words out, venom on my tongue.

  I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with this right now. I fix my hood and turn my attention to Charlie.

  “I’m gonna head back, but thank you so much for what you did.”

  “You’re welcome, Kay. I’ll let you know once we have it recorded.”

  “Sounds good. Bye, Charlie.”

  “Bye, Kay.”

  Without sparing a glance at Adam, I head back to the guys.

  I try to shake off my frustration, but the pit in my gut tells me I won’t be able to ignore Adam forever.

  #Chapter46

  UofJ411: Is this our answer? #CasanovaIsTaken #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *picture of Kay wearing the hoodie again*

  @Miss_rae_mcnally: See?? It’s true. She’s wearing it again. #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @MomOf2Sk8ters: Noooo!! Say it ain’t so @CasaNova87 #HeartBroken #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @Msteresaap: We NEED the deets. Come on @CasaNova87 fill us in. #IGotsToKnow #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  * * *

  UofJ411: I’m not ashamed to admit I’m swooning. #HeartPalpatations #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *boomerang of Mason pointing with his helmet and winking*

  @Mylifethroughfiction: Holy shit! That wink @CasaNova87 #SomethingInMyEye

  @Notnow.imreading: I see you, baby! #CallMe #CasanovaWatch

  @Oamberwhereartthou: *fire emoji* *drool emoji* #FansSelf #CasanovaWatch

  @Ofbooksandportkeys: I think my ovaries just exploded. #IWillHaveYourBabies #CasanovaWatch

  #Chapter47

  The days I don’t have class with Kay are my least favorite because there’s no guarantee I’ll see her. I thought my football schedule was nuts, but it has nothing on everything she has going on. Between the nights she coaches at The Barracks, the two nights a week she sleeps over at her little sister’s house, and all the studying she does to maintain her academic scholarship, I sometimes feel like I barely see her.

  Now I try to make it a point to study at her place to get in as much Skittles time as I can. Plus, spending as much time as possible with her is the only way I can think of for us to overcome the strain I’ve felt since the whole Let me post a picture of us rejection.

  Practice tonight was more brutal than usual, and all I want is to feel the softness of my girlfriend’s body against mine.

  I strip off my practice jersey and pads, sitting down on the bench in front of my locker before heading for the showers.

  “Man, Coach kicked our asses tonight.” Trav drops down next to me.

  “At least you get to redshirt during practice and don’t have to get pounded into the ground. Right now I’m not even sure I can make it to the shower, let alone all the way to Kay’s.”

  “You’ll feel better after we eat. Come on, man.” He thumps me on the back.

  I step into one of the individual shower stalls and turn the water on as hot as it goes. My arms go up and brace against the wall, and my head drops forward as I let the water beat against the tense muscles in my neck and shoulders. After this I’m gonna have to swing by the trainers to have them work out some of my kinks before dinner.

  I towel off, stopping by the trainers’ office on the way to my locker, and unfortunately there are no openings until tomorrow.

  I’m not the only one moving a little slower tonight based on how many of my teammates are still hanging around.

  Interlacing my fingers, I stretch my arms overhead then roll my shoulders back, letting out a groan.

  “Short Stack’s not gonna like you skipping out on meeting with the trainers,” Trav comments.

  One of my favorite things about Kay is that she not only respects the work put in for D1 football, she understands it. The first time I skipped seeing the trainers to get to her faster, she laid into me in a way that would make Coach Knight proud.

  “Hey, I tried. They’re full up tonight.”

  “Aww, Nova, does the new girlfriend call the shots?” one of our right tackles calls out.

  “Never thought I’d see the day Casanova tied himself to a girl,” adds one of our wide receivers.

  I don’t get defensive; they aren’t saying anything I haven’t thought myself a million times. Hell, my own inner coach is still on the fence half the time, and not letting my own hang-ups get in the way is an ongoing battle.

  Even back in my Casanova days, I was never one for locker room bragging when it came to my hookups, so my girlfriend? Yeah, that’s a no-go. Plus, if Grayson heard anything along those lines about Kay, he would kill me.

  By the time I get done with dinner and head over to her place, it shouldn’t be much longer until she’s back from The Barracks. Me beating her home happens sometimes, and when it does, I either hang out with Em and Quinn or study in her room.

  I knock on the dorm’s door and wait for one of her roommates to answer. Unfortunately, it’s Bailey.

  “Casanova.” She greets me with a sugary-sweet smile.

  “Hi Bailey.” I may not like the chick, but I can be civil since she’s roommates with my girl and they seem to get along.

  “Do you want anything to eat?” Bailey reaches out to stroke my forearm.

  I pull my arm from under her hand and move toward Kay’s room, putting some much needed distance between us.

  “No thanks, I ate with the team. I’m just gonna get a jump on studying.” I hook a thumb toward Kay’s room. “Bye, Bailey.” Without waiting for a response, I make my retreat.

  The smell of Kay’s vanilla and peppermint scent fills my nose as I step inside the bedroom.

  I slip off my sneakers, turn on the TV to a channel playing an old episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, climb onto her hot pink bed, and unpack my MacBook Pro and marketing textbook.

  Maybe if I get a head start on studying, I can cash in on it with extra make-out time.

  My eyes start to cross and my vision gets blurry from reading. The rest of my day combined with the reading must catch up to me, because the next thing I know I’m being woken up by Kay wrapping her arms and legs around me.

  #Chapter48

  I drag myself through the front door of my dorm hours later than normal. Practice was hard tonight. One of our stunt groups had a nasty fall, and I had a base end up with a concussion. The important thing is she’s going to
be okay, but spending a big chunk of my night getting her checked over in the ER was not fun.

  When I open the door to my room, I’m surprised to find a light on; I’m usually good about turning them off before I leave. Then when I see Mase stretched out asleep on my bed, textbook open next to him, I can’t help the thump of my heart at the sight.

  My phone died back at the hospital and I had no way of letting him know what was going on. Seeing him here makes my night instantly better.

  I plug my phone into the charger and take care of my nightly routine. The plus side of spending most of my night in the ER—look at me finding silver linings like a pro—is I don’t have to wash my hair. Showered, teeth brushed, one of Mase’s football t-shirts and a pair of cotton boy shorts on, I make my way back to my room.

  Phone finally charged enough to turn on, I note how late it is and can’t bring myself to wake Mase up. I set my alarm for the ungodly hour of 5AM in case he didn’t set one. If that’s not proof of how much I like this guy, I don’t know what is. I move his textbook from the bed, grab a blanket, and climb in next to him.

  He is so big he practically takes up the entire full-sized mattress. I’ve never been so grateful for being tiny as I am when I fit my body alongside his and snuggle into his chest. I take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of him and the soap he uses after practice.

  I hook a leg between his and curl my arm across his stomach, settling in to sleep.

  He shifts, squeezing me tighter, and places a kiss on the top of my head.

  “Hey, baby.” He voice is all rumbly-sexy from sleep.

  “Hey, Mase.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Late.”

  His muscles bunch and flex as he stretches. “I should go.”

  “No, stay.” I place a hand to his chest. “I set an alarm for you.”

  “Wow,” he says around a yawn. “You must really like me if you’re willing to be woken up sooo early.” He chuckles deep in his throat, and the sound goes straight to my girlie bits.

  “I won’t be staying up with you. I’ll kiss you goodbye and go back to sleep.”

  “Now that sounds like my girl.”

  I pinch his side, making him jump. “Go back to sleep, babe.”

  “Do you mind if I get more comfortable?”

  In answer, I slip off the bed and refold the extra blanket. Mase sits up and pulls his shirt over his head in that make-a-girl-drool one-handed way before shifting to remove his sweatpants—his gray sweatpants.

  If that visual isn’t hot enough, I need to bite back a groan, teeth sinking into my bottom lip at the sight of him laid out on my bed in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs. His olive skin highlights every bump and dip of his muscles, the black ink adding to his bad boy appeal.

  Pulling back the covers, he retakes his spot next to the wall and gestures for me to join him.

  I do without any hesitation, adjusting the covers around us.

  “You have no idea how hot you are in my football shirt, my name and number on you.” He snuggles into me.

  “So caveman of you.”

  “Only for you.” I feel him smell my hair. “Mmm, peppermint—my fave.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

  “How the hell did you know? You can’t see me.”

  “I know you, babe.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that. “I guess you do.”

  “Everything all right? You’re back pretty late.”

  I struggle to focus on what he’s saying because I’m distracted by his hand running up and down my back, leaving tingles in its wake.

  “One of my bases had a flyer land on her head and I had to get her checked out for a concussion. I’m sorry I didn’t call or text, my phone died.”

  “No worries, babe. Now give me a kiss so I can go to sleep, otherwise I’ll be dragging ass tomorrow.”

  I lift my chin and meet his lips for a chaste kiss. He must really be tired since he doesn’t try to turn up the heat.

  After contact that’s much too brief for my satisfaction, I wrap myself around him like ivy and settle in for sleep. This is the first time we are having a sleepover since the night I stayed over at his parents’ house, and I want to enjoy every second of it.

  I feel like a squirrel; instead of gathering nuts, I collect little pockets of time I’m able to carve out when it’s just the two of us.

  He puts one arm under my head, hooking it around to pull me closer, while his other goes around my waist. You would think with him being twice my size it would be awkward, but instead we fit together like puzzle pieces. He also has this uncanny ability to make me feel cherished and protected.

  I tip my head back, burying my nose in his neck, breathing in his delicious scent and generally making me want to eat him up.

  Almost involuntarily, my lips follow the same path, placing kisses along the way. He groans. I know I should stop—he does need sleep—but I can’t help myself.

  My fingers follow the groove along his hip, dipping into the V cut there—oh how I love that cut—stroking back and forth across it.

  “Babe,” he groans into the top of my head.

  “I know.” I hook a foot around his ankle, pressing closer. “I’m sorry,” I say. I have every intention of stopping, but I can’t.

  “Fuck it.” He claims my mouth with his and rolls so I’m underneath him.

  There’s something different about this kiss than all the others we’ve shared. Over the past few weeks, we’ve made out to the point of our lips going numb and dry-humped like a couple of high schoolers, not to mention the incident in the hallway, but this? Like I said—different.

  I lift a leg, wrapping it around his hip and pressing us together until my aching center is riding the hard ridge in his boxers.

  Oh god that feels good.

  I’m burning up.

  I want him.

  I need him.

  I’ve fought him, fought us, every step of the way, but no more. I’m done running, done letting my past dictate my future.

  I’m not saying it’s going to be easy—lord knows I’ve barely acknowledged the attention—but Mase will help me. It’s not a question, just fact.

  It also means I need to take the biggest risks of our relationship so far, but I’ll worry about them later.

  For now, I’m going to revel in the feel of Mason’s callused palm gliding across my skin as it finds its way under my shirt.

  Our tongues tangle, teeth nipping, fire burning in my veins.

  It’s my turn to reach for the hem of my shirt, dragging it the rest of the way up my body and tossing it on the floor after it clears my head.

  “Kay…” He struggles to speak.

  “I want you.” I scratch the back of his head, my fingers curling over the buzzed hair.

  “Are… Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you.”

  Another press of the hips. Another mutual groan.

  “I’m sure. Please don’t make me wait.”

  I may not be ready to give him my past, but I am more than ready to give him this.

  My fingers edge their way under the band of his boxer briefs, struggling to push them out of my way.

  “I…” His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. We can take this at your speed.”

  I suck his earlobe into my mouth.

  “If that were true, you’d be helping me with these instead of talking.” I snap the band of his underwear where it sits on the curve of his glorious ass.

  “Babe…” Another swallow. “I’m serious…” Swallow. “This should be special for you.”

  I pull back, holding his face in both hands to look him in the eyes.

  He wants me; it’s clear to see in how the irises have darkened to a deep pine color.

  Everything we’ve done has been special, and it’s not the act—it’s the person. Why is he hesitating now? Does he think…

  No.r />
  Except…

  “Do you think…” My brow furrows as I try to get my thoughts in order. “I’m not a virgin, and I want you. I want you now.”

  Even in the dim lighting coming through the spaces in the blinds, I can still make out how his eyes reveal the way my admission affects him. First shock—he really did think I was a virgin! I mean sure, I’m not as experienced as him, but I have some, and by some I mean I’ve been with one guy, but we don’t talk about Voldemort—and second humility, like me choosing to give this part of me is a gift to him.

  “What’s it gonna be?” I pull him down for another scorching kiss.

  “Fuck it,” he says against my lips. “Sleep’s overrated.”

  Like a dam breaking, he’s all over me. Hands everywhere—in my hair, down my sides, cupping my boobs, pinching my nipples, and finally, finally removing my underwear then his own.

  After my legs are free of the soft cotton, he cups his hands behind my knees and brings them back to rest around his hips. I squeeze my legs around him, scratch the back of his scalp, and pull his hair.

  His groan vibrates through me.

  His hard dick bumps along my swollen clit, and I’m dying for him to be inside me.

  “Mase…” I sigh. “Stop teasing me.” My hips roll and I gasp as the ridge around the head skims my clit. “I need you inside me.” A squeeze of my legs. “Now,” I groan.

  “I need…” He slides through my wetness. “Condom.” His voice breaks.

  Moving as fast as he does on the field, he’s retrieved the protection and is suited up and back between my legs.

  I wrap my arms and legs around his large frame as he lines himself up with my entrance.

  He tilts my hips up with a hand while the other holds his erection, circling my opening with the head, pushing in the barest inch then retreating.

  Another inch.

  Another retreat.

  “Fuck, Kay. You’re so tight.”

  Push forward.

  Pull back.

  “Mase.” My breath catches. I’m stretching, already overwhelmingly full, and he’s not even really inside me.