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 29

by Alley Ciz


  I chuckle at that. “Will do. Now rally and kick some Madden ass.”

  “You got it, babe.”

  “Bye, Mase.”

  “Bye, Skittles.”

  I hit the button on my steering wheel to disconnect the call and grab my bag. JT sent me a text earlier saying he and a bunch of his squadmates would be hanging out in the front lounge by the bar. Sure enough, I find him and a few others donning UK gear spread out among the couches, the low tables in front of them playing host to plates of food in various stages of consumption.

  JT’s size and dark red hair make him super easy to spot, and as I walk in his direction, he looks up, catching sight of me.

  “PF!” He jumps up, really dragging out Pfffff. His long legs eat up the space between us and he lifts me in his arms, my legs wrapping around him as he spins us, hugging the stuffing out of me. “Damn I’ve missed you.”

  I return the sentiment, squeezing him equally as hard.

  “I know some of you have met her already,” he says when we rejoin the others, “but for those of you who haven’t, this is the infamous PF you’ve heard so much about.”

  While I keep my cheerleading identity a secret at the U of J, it’s almost an impossibility with the UK Blue Squad. JT is too well known in the cheer community for them to not know the name of his partner—me. Thankfully none of them have seemed to care about me other than the tricks JT and I pull off when we stunt.

  From the faces I see, most of his squad is downstairs, including Rei, his flyer. I give her a hug, having grown closest with her because of our mutual connection with JT.

  He retakes his spot on the couch and I settle in like always, with my legs across his lap.

  “I’m surprised you guys don’t have curfew,” I observe.

  “Coach is pretty lenient when it’s not a competition. We just can’t leave the hotel,” Rei says.

  “Besides grilling the new boyfriend, what’s the plan for the weekend?” JT says with a smirk.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Mama and Papa G are gonna meet me at my dorm. We have the game, and afterward they’re taking us all out to dinner. I figure we stay on campus for the night and head home in the morning. Then your next three days will be spent helping me run partner stunt clinics, with a majority of our focus on the twins.”

  “I take it Olly is excited?” JT asks, referring to his protégé.

  “When he heard I was seeing you tonight, he begged me to bring him.”

  “Probably for the best he’s not here. I’m sure you have a whole crazy checklist of stunts you want me to help him master by the end of the weekend, don’t you?” He arches a brow at me.

  “You know it.” I pop him in the arm playfully. “So prepare to work.”

  “My pint-sized cheer Nazi.”

  I give him an eye roll.

  “I just love being compared to Hitler and his followers.” My sarcasm is thick.

  JT flashes me a shit-eating grin, which I ignore.

  “We should probably head to The Barracks early on Friday, work out any kinks. It’s been a few months since we’ve stunted together—who knows if we still have it?”

  JT pulls me into a one-armed headlock. “Them be fighting words.”

  “Let go.” I bat at his arm. “Seriously, get off or I’ll have my football player boyfriend beat you up.”

  JT lets out a bark of laughter. “If I’m not afraid of E, I’m not gonna be afraid of this guy.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Love you too, babe.” JT blows me a kiss. Always the smartass. “Anyway…if you think I’m gonna let you get away with that trash talk tonight, we must have been apart for too long.”

  JT and I, much to our parents’ dismay, would work on our stunts anywhere we could. Back yards, gyms, living rooms, conference rooms—pretty much any place with a high enough ceiling was fair game, and I’ve just unintentionally thrown down the gauntlet for us to be up to our old tricks.

  “I’m sure there’s an empty ballroom around here somewhere,” he muses, confirming my thoughts.

  Time to have some fun.

  #Chapter60

  CheerQueen: Getting the band back together LOL. Honored to watch cheer royalty in person!!!! #KingAndQueenOfStunting #MyHeroes #IWantToBeLikePFWhenIGrowUp #BowDown #PFandJT #TransferToUK

  *video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  #Chapter61

  A whole new level of anti-morning sentiment greets me when I walk into class to find Kay flopped over the desk, ponytail hanging down the side out the back of her hat.

  Stopping at the row below ours, I wave her coffee as close to her nose as possible, the scent of java rousing her.

  “Oh, god, I love you,” she moans, my dick jumping at the sensual sound. Blindly she reaches out a small hand, wrapping it around the paper cup.

  “Of course you do, Skittles.” I drop a kiss to the back of her head and go around to my seat.

  Moving with all the speed and grace of a geriatric, she finally sits up, cradling the cup under her chin, breathing in the aroma like it is the essence of life. To be fair, for her, it just might be.

  “You’re so cocky,” she mumbles sleepily before taking her first sip.

  “You know it, babe.” I thrust my hips in her direction before sitting down.

  “Ugh.” Eye roll. “You are so lucky you bring me caffeine.” She rubs the back of her neck and groans, another sound that goes straight to my dick.

  I replace her hand with my own and dig into the knots there. When she moans again, it takes everything in me not to carry her out of this lecture hall and take her in the stairwell.

  “Did you have fun last night?”

  “Yeah.” Her head drops with a slump. “I didn’t realize I was so out of shape, though.”

  I barely hold back a snort. Kay is far from “out of shape”. Given her young age and years of experience, she is a unique hybrid coach for NJA, often demonstrating stunts and tumbling herself. Still, even I can tell this is a different degree of exhaustion for her.

  “Feeling a little beat up today, are we?”

  “There’s a good chance I’ll be dead by the end of this weekend from all the clinics we’re running.”

  I can’t help chuckling at how serious she sounds. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. By the end of tomorrow, your body will have adjusted.” She shifts back to rest her head on my shoulder in a rare display of not-quite-PDA. She really is tired. “But if it makes you feel any better, I got my ass kicked in Madden last night.”

  “It’s okay, babe.” She pats my chest limply. “I’ll teach you how to win.”

  Is it wrong that I’m enjoying her being too sleepy to worry about keeping her distance?

  I’m about to shoot back a retort to her claim of being a Madden expert when my phone vibrates in my pocket.

  GRAYSON: Please tell me Kay is with you?

  * * *

  ME: Of course she is.

  * * *

  GRAYSON: Can you ask her WHY THE HELL SHE ISN’T ANSWERING HER PHONE?

  The shift to shouty capitals has a prickle of unease forming between my shoulder blades that only intensifies at the way Kay stiffens when she reads the message on the screen.

  “It’s back at my dorm. I didn’t even realize I forgot it until I was on the bus over to campus.”

  I relay the info to Grayson.

  GRAYSON: Show her this.

  I click on the Instagram link he sent, which pulls up a video of Kay in the blue camouflage striped leggings and electric blue racerback Cheer Coach, because Freakin Awesome is NOT an official job title tank she sent me a picture of her in last night.

  Kay’s hand flies to cover her mouth as she watches the video, her gray eyes bugging out of her face.

  I recognize JT behind her as the two share a smile—one I’m not quite comfortable seeing her exchange with another man—clasp hands, and bounce before Kay is lifted over his head in a handstand. They hold the position for a few seconds before Kay is fl
ipped around and stands with both her feet in one of his hands.

  There’s no hat blocking her face, and her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail complete with giant blue camouflage bow. She even goes as far as to smile and wink as she gets tossed from one of JT’s hands to the other.

  The minute-long clip ends with the two of them hugging.

  My mind spins as class is called to order, though not with thoughts of how ghostly the pallor of Kay’s skin is or how her hand shakes when she reaches up to tug the brim of her hat lower.

  Nope.

  That honor goes to wondering how the same woman who wouldn’t even let me post a simple selfie of us on my Instagram can have an entire video of her on someone else’s.

  #Chapter62

  USASF_cheer: Check out these former World Champs #TheyStillGotIt #PFandJT

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  * * *

  KentuckyCheer: Our very own @CheerGodJT proving why he’s the best #NationalChamp #AllTheRings #OGStuntPartner #PFandJT

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  * * *

  VarsityAllstar: #TBT with these two former World Champs @CheerGodJT #PFandJT

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  * * *

  NCAcheer: No one does it better. Learn how to stunt like JT and PF from @TheBarracksAtNJA @NJA_Admirals at camp. Be on the lookout for signups #NCAcamp #PFandJT

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  * * *

  UCAupdates: Is this a preview of what @CheerGodJT will be bringing to Nationals with @CheerNinja #RoadToNationals #PFandJT

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  * * *

  CheerUpdates: Behind the scenes with how these two former World Champs out of @TheBarracksAtNJA @NJA_Admirals train #GodparentsOfStunting #DidYouSeeThat #PFandJT

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  #Chapter63

  Of all the days to forget my phone, it had to be today.

  Mason’s phone may have timed out, the screen gone dark, but the video of JT and me is still playing on repeat in my mind.

  How did this happen?

  It’s one thing for JT’s squadmates to know about my PF alter ego; it’s another entirely for them to share posts of me, especially without my knowledge or consent.

  Bile rises in my throat and a buzz fills my ears, making me feel like I’m trapped underwater.

  I have no idea what today’s session was about when class ends, trapped in my own head, lost to every worst-case scenario I can imagine.

  Autopilot has me following Mase to meet G.

  My cheek presses against damp cotton when he pulls me into a tight hug, his normally warm body now sweaty from running to me.

  “JT said he’s already gotten the post taken down.” G’s hand covers the entire side of my face as he continues to hold me in his embrace. “But Kay…”

  I push away when his words trail off into nothingness.

  He grabs at the back of his neck.

  Time slows down. He’s nervous.

  I look back at Mase. He’s been unnaturally quiet, instead scrolling through something on his own phone.

  It might make me a bad girlfriend, but right now I don’t have the mental capacity to figure out what’s going on with him. I’ll ask when I’m not in the middle of freaking the fuck out.

  “G,” I prompt.

  “Em sent me these.” He holds his phone out for me to take, his message thread with her open on a picture.

  With great trepidation, I accept the offering and start flipping through the photos at G’s instruction.

  There are about a dozen screenshots of different Instagram accounts—most for major cheerleading outlets—and with each one, the weight of my dread continues to grow.

  I freeze. I don’t breathe. I’m pretty sure if it were possible, my heart would stop beating.

  I don’t have a profile to tag, but both The Barracks and the Admirals’ accounts have been tagged. It’s only a small hop to connect the PF from NJA to Kayla Dennings.

  I was so worried being with Mason would out me. Who would have guessed it could potentially be caused by me doing the one thing that helped save my sanity during the worst of things?

  The only thing keeping be from being completely hysterical is that so far the #CasanovasMysteryGirl posts haven’t connected the me from the hashtag with the me in the now viral video.

  Still…

  This is bad. So, so bad.

  My phone. Why did I forget my phone?

  I need to regroup.

  Talk to E to see what contingencies he and Jordan came up with.

  An old panic runs through my veins and makes my hair stand on end.

  What am I going to do?

  #Chapter64

  UofJ411: #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *REPOSTED: video of JT and Kay stunting at The Huntington*

  @Raineydaybookreviewslorraine: Wait? Hold on a second? Is this @CasaNova87 girlfriend? #CasanovasMysteryGirl #CantQuitePutMyFingerOnIt

  @Redhatterbookblog: Those rainbow highlights do look familiar. #ISeeYou #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @Reynereadsalot: She’s a cheerleader?? #ThisIsBrandNewInformation #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @Rock_n_read719: Really? The football player and the cheerleader? #CanYouBeMoreCliche #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @shenanigator: Anyone else wondering why she’s with @KentuckyCheer and not @UofJCheerleading #AskingForAFriend #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  * * *

  UofJ411: I need a second opinion…is this who I think it is? #AmISeeingThings #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *side-by-side picture of a screen grab of Kay and JT in the video and JT in his UK uniform*

  @Sjenkins31: Okay, so the guy in the video is @CheerGodJT. How can we use this to find out who #CasanovasMysteryGirl is? #DetectiveWork

  * * *

  UofJ411: Any all-star cheerleaders follow us? #PhoneAFriend #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *side-by-side picture of JT in his UK uniform and one of him in his NJA uniform*

  @Slomo9311: @CheerGodJT used to cheer for @TheBarracksAtNJA for the @NJA_Admirals #FoundNemo #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  * * *

  UofJ411: She cheered for @NJA_Admirals too. #NoMoreHiding #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *side-by-side picture of a screen grab of Kay and JT in the video and them in their Admirals uniforms*

  @Smalltown_booklover: OMG! You found her!! #WinnerWinnerChickenDinner

  * * *

  UofJ411: More info #SpillingTheTea #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  *REPOSTED—picture from JT’s IG of him and Kay in their Admirals uniforms after winning Worlds—CheerGodJT: Me and @FlyerQueenPF kicking ass and taking names!! Love this chick!! #WorldChamps #CheerWorlds #CantTouchUs #WeSetTheStandard #CTGBFF*

  @Sparksandmoonlight: @FlyerQueenPF isn’t an active account anymore. Anyone find her info? #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @Summerlynn83: Nothing on IG but @TheBarracksAtNJA has a PF Dennings listed on their website as a member of their coaching staff #CallMeSherlock #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  @Suntan_malone: That’s her. 100% she is PF Dennings. All the other posts use #PFandJT #CasanovasMysteryGirl

  #Chapter65

  Not even the toughest practice day of the week is sufficiently distracting to bring my head around.

  The aches and the pains aren’t enough to get Kay off the brain.

  Except I can’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t told the whole truth when Kay was coming clean.

  My gut reaction to the video was to be pissed that Kay let someone else post stuff on their Instagram without her hiding most of her face, but her unfiltered reaction of almost abject terror was clue enough that she had no idea.

  In the wake of my fading anger, guilt set in and has been my constant companion ever since. It certainly doesn’t help that she ended up skipping
out on lunch to deal with the fallout of the video going viral. Grayson told me E was freaking out about it too.

  Stripping out of my practice jersey and shoulder pads, I sit on the padded seat in front of my locker and reach inside for my phone to text Kay.

  Tapping to wake up the screen, I watch it fill with more Instagram notifications from the CasanovaWatch and CasanovasMysteryGirl hashtags than I can count. Ignoring them for the moment, I instead click on the message from Kay I see waiting for me.

  SKITTLES: I’m skipping out on the game and staying at the dorm *kissy face emoji*

  On board with this change of plans, I’m going to put my phone away to shower when my fat finger ends up opening one of the notification banners.

  A prickly sensation starts at the base of my skull when I see Kay’s beaming smile on the screen. She’s in her NJA cheer uniform with a blue camouflage and rhinestone bow topping off her unobscured face.

  My skin feels hot and agitation bubbles under its surface as I take in the account information the picture was reposted from.

  JT.

  What the fuck?

  She lets him post pictures with her?

  She is adamant about staying off mine. Never mind that with one selfie of us on my page, we could bring a stop to the CasanovasMysteryGirl hashtag, the same one she worries will lead people to discovering she’s related to Eric Dennings.

  But JT gets to post? How is that fair?

 

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