The Jock and the Dreamer

by Shana Vanterpool

  I shut her up with a kiss, an angry open-eyed kiss. “She couldn’t be more wrong. Real friends build you up. They don’t tear you down, baby. Do you hear me? Don’t listen to the negative opinion other people have for you. They don’t matter.”

  “We need to table this, but you should probably start looking for a new place to live, Wade. You’re causing too much strife between my girls.” Ren puffed out his chest.

  His threat was hardly felt on my end. “Fine.”

  Esmaie froze. “No.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re coming with me. Let’s go pack a bag.” To her two idiot friends, I said, “We’ll be back to get our shit tomorrow.”

  I packed as fast as I had moved in. The only things I needed to come back for were my desk and bed. I drug my things into the hall and then went to check on Esmaie. She stood in the middle of her room, unmoving, eyes wide with instability. “Hey,” I murmured. “You okay?”

  She didn’t move or answer me; her eyes moved around the room, landing on every single object.

  “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. They can’t kick you out. But I’m not staying here, not with them. I don’t want to leave you here with that toxic shit.”

  “I don’t like it when things change.” She took a shaky breath. “Tonight was so amazing, and now it’s not.” She wiped at her nose, appearing frail again. “It’s so sudden,” she whispered. “What did I do to them?” She met my eyes, hers red from crying.

  “Stay here tonight. Think it over. I’m going to crash at Bank’s.”

  She covered her mouth with her hands and sobbed.

  “Shit. Esmaie, talk to me.” I removed her hands. “Tell me what you need. Because it isn’t this house with those people. Being comfortable doesn’t mean you’re doing the right thing for yourself, you know that, right? Sometimes, comfort is a trap.”

  She blinked, sagging in exhaustion against me. “I don’t want you to leave. And I don’t want to leave. But,” she continued, when I felt the first dregs of disappointment that she might not be coming with me; I needed her with me. “I don’t want to stay either. Not after being talked to like that. By people I thought loved me.”

  Before she could start crying again, I took advantage of the part of her that was thinking clearly. “Change out of your wet clothes and into something warm. I’ll pack for you.”

  She nodded, walking numbly over to her dresser. I was pissed for a lot of reasons, one of which not being able to study her naked body as she changed. I found a purple gym bag in her closet and dumped out the yoga mat that was inside and began stuffing it with clothes from her dresser. I swept my arm over her dresser, knocking her perfume, deodorant, makeup, hair brush, and anything else into the bag she might need, and did the same in the bathroom. She had her Kindle in her purse, so I pulled her power cord and phone charger out of the wall and shoved that in the duffle bag too.

  There were a lot of little things she’d have to get and even more furniture. Her room was packed with everything she needed to feel comfortable. It was her nest, her safe place.

  When I turned around, she was wearing gray yoga pants, and a thick black hoodie; her hair had been redone up in a new bun and she was in the middle of slipping on her Converses, her backpack within reach.

  “Can you carry this?”

  She nodded, groaning when I draped the strap over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Ignore them and go get in my truck.” I stuffed my keys in her palm. “Okay?”

  She bobbed her head, waiting for me to grab my bags in the hall. I grunted under the weight. Bri had her arms crossed over her chest near the door, and Ren was trying to talk reason into her.

  “Think this through, Es. We’ve been roommates for three years. Bri’s mad. She didn’t mean it.”

  “Tonight,” Esmaie said, jutting out her chin. “But she did mean it, maybe months ago, years ago, maybe weeks from now. She meant it, or she wouldn’t have said it.”

  She yanked open the front door; it banged off the wall.

  “Backstabbing psycho!” Bri screeched, slamming the door after us.

  I loaded the back of my truck with my things and then called Bank the moment we were in my truck. He picked up before the first ring could finish. Bastard.

  “Why, hello. Where did you take off to?”

  “Not right now, asshole. Esmaie and I need to crash at your place.”

  He switched from jerk mode, a persona he frequented often, to friend mode. “What happened?”

  “Her roommates are dicks. Not good to be around right now.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to live with me. Wasn’t that your whole point of moving out of my place and into that one? You didn’t want to deal with the parties, girls, and booze.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can we crash there, or not?”

  “Yeah, man, of course. The room’s still open. But so are the parties. I’m not stopping my lifestyle for you.”

  “Did I ask you to?”

  “You’re straight-laced. I love and hate that about you. I’m not. We both got to live with that.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m not home right now. Probably won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. You remember where I stashed the spare key. I guess I’ll see you and your hot little girlfriend tomorrow?”

  I hung up without responding, dropping my phone in the cup holder. One of the major reasons I hadn’t taken Bank up on his offer earlier in the year to share his spare room was because he wasn’t kidding when he said he partied. He did, hard. If Coach caught wind of his escapades, he’d kick him and me off the team. Bank’s wasn’t worth my dream.

  But Esmaie was.

  I glanced at her as I drove. She was hugging herself, knees pulled to her chest. The lights of the city shone like a kaleidoscope on her face. Red, yellow, green, blue—she was awash in color.

  Bank lived in an apartment complex as far from campus as he could get. It was at least a twenty-minute drive to and from with the inner-city traffic. I parked on the street.

  We didn’t talk as we walked our things up the stairs and into Bank’s apartment. It was your typical bachelor pad. Big screen, stereo, kitchen empty of food but stocked with alcohol; sometimes, that asshole was a walking, talking cliché.

  At least the bedroom still had a mattress. It was a full-size and stained. Bank had bought a new one when he moved in and was gracious enough to leave this one in the spare room for anyone else to use.

  Esmaie pointed at one stain in particular. “Is that blood?”

  I studied it. “Let’s pretend it was marinara sauce.”

  She jumped back, horrified.

  “Erm… we’ll sleep on the couch tonight. Let’s order a pizza and have a few beers, yeah?”

  It was the first spark of good I’d seen in her eyes since we walked into her place. “Hawaiian pizza?”

  I froze. “What did you just say?”

  “I want Hawaiian pizza.”

  “As in pineapple and ham? On a fucking pizza?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

  She frowned at me. “Yes. What’s your problem?”

  “I don’t have the problem. You do. You will not, ever, eat that garbage again. Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza. You monster.”

  She laughed. “Relax. It’s not as bad as anchovies.”

  “It’s worse. At least anchovies are a protein. I can’t believe I kissed your pineapple pizza loving ass.” I pushed her away teasingly.

  She giggled, trying to reach for me. “You loved it.”

  “That was before I knew you were one of those.”

  She pouted, jutting out her cute ass bottom lip. “Please?” She blinked her big green eyes at me, batting those honey lashes.

  “Asshole,” I grunted.

  She was still laughing when I left her in the room to place our order. I grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed her one. At least Bank had incredible TV. Every sports channel known to man. I put on an old rerun soccer match from
the last world cup, settling back on the couch.

  I didn’t realize Esmaie was bored until she sat back down with her Kindle. The sight of her escaping into her own world was fascinating. How quickly she ate at the pages, her eyes devouring the words. I’d never seen anything like it before. The sheer commitment she made to escaping. It was sexy as fuck.

  “What’s your book about?”

  “Hmm?” She gave me her eyes only for a second.

  “Your book. Tell me what it’s about.”

  “It’s kind of taboo.”

  “Oh?” I rose a brow. “Tell me.”

  “Well, see, there’s this girl who moves in with her dad and his new wife, who has a son. And he’s so f’ing hot.” She blushed. “They fall in love, but of course they can’t be together. So, years later, after all that heartbreak, they reconnect, and they both get a second chance.”

  “Taboo,” I agreed, hiding my smile by taking a beer. She was the cutest. “Go back to your book. I’ll just occupy myself.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not,” she agreed, laughing.

  “You know, typically it’s the girl trying to get the guy’s attention. I have to admit I like the change.”

  She didn’t respond, eyes scanning the screen.

  I’d never been so content being ignored. After tonight, all the good, all the bad, she probably needed to escape a little. When the pizza got there, I ate it watching the game and she ate her horrible pineapple pizza while reading.

  I took the blanket off Bank’s bed and only then had she escaped enough.

  The prospect of cuddling before bed brought me so much grief, guilt, and want. I lay down and when she couldn’t decide which way to lay, I pulled her down onto her side.

  I brought her close to me, pressing my nose into her hair. I wrapped my arm around her, my feet, too.

  I fell asleep beside a woman for the first time in forever, and the peace it brought me was met with equal parts shame.

  Chapter Nine

  Esmaie

  Comfort was important.

  It gave me a chance to breathe, to think things through. Thinking things through was nice, when I so often went with my first choice. Waking up the next morning, I was attacked by memories. Good ones and bad ones.

  But I was also attacked by my reality. Wade’s body heat encapsulated me; the scent of his skin slightly tinged by sweat from sleep. It was warm in the apartment. I absorbed his body heat, reveling in the sensation of having what I’d always been missing. My missing piece wasn’t visceral. It could be broken down to a real, honest need. One that was too much to be condensed into one word. Need, want, connection, security—maybe it was insane to attach so much to my dreams.

  But I couldn’t help it.

  I couldn’t help anything.

  I had to pee, brush my teeth, and take a shower; I wanted to go home. But I couldn’t face Bri again. Or even Ren, sitting there waiting to accost me because of something I hadn’t done. Why did they get to pass so much cruelness and judgement onto me, but I couldn’t do the one thing that might make me happy? Maybe I should have told Bri how I felt about Wade, but I knew if I had she would have done her best to change my mind. I had no idea how suffocating and mean they’d always been. Putting me down just enough to keep me under their foot. They’d been there for three years and in seconds it felt like I had never really known them.

  The stability I’d always had beneath me shifted, leaving me feeling disgustingly unstable. I hated the feeling. I rolled onto my back, trying to breathe evenly.

  Wade groaned, snuggling closer. His arm draped over my midriff.

  I poked his arm. “Wade?” I whispered.

  He groaned again, his forehead pressing to my cheek.

  “I have to use the bathroom. I don’t think I grabbed my toothbrush. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Where am I going to live?”

  His head rose. His hair was rumpled from sleep and his eyes were squinted. “Chill out. I know you want to have everything figured out, but you can’t right now. Not unless you want to go back home.”

  “I can’t go back there.” Who knew I had been living with strangers that entire time. “I definitely can’t afford to live on my own. The only place with a free room in the entire state this deep into the school year is probably this one, and you already have it.” My breathing grew shallow. I clutched at my chest.

  He rose onto his elbow, peering down at me tenderly and harshly. His eyes were soft, but his brows were drawn down in frustration. “You think I’m going to abandon you?”

  “Not abandon, but I’m not your responsibility.”

  “You’re not? You can pitch forever at me, but I can’t handle right now? I’m starting to wonder if you really believe yourself. I thought we were doing this. At least for a month’s time. Even after that, I’d never abandon you.”

  I hated that word. Abandon. It left a bad taste in my mouth, made my hackles rise. And for all my talk, perhaps he was right. I didn’t want to place all my trust into his hands, what if he made me regret it one day? Like Mom, or Dad, or even my best friends. It was just me to rely on. It always had been.

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  He grumbled, falling onto his back. “I already have. We’re crashing at Bank’s place. Tomorrow’s Monday. We both have full plates. The last thing we need is to add being homeless to the list. We’ll split this half portion of the rent together, okay?”

  I guess it wouldn’t hurt to crash here in the meantime. I didn’t like it, but if how I felt dictated my circumstances I’d be married to the love of my life and my dad would have picked up the phone by now, since I left home this past summer. “Okay.” I bit my lip, chewing on it as I thought it all through. “I need to buy a car.”

  “We’ll share mine for now. As for your toothbrush, I did pack it. You won’t need anything. Go clean up. We’ll go get some breakfast. And then maybe we can hit up a grocery store since I can’t live off beer for every meal.”

  He was a fast thinker. It made me realize there was a difference between going with my gut, and making wise, fast choices. It made me feel better. I gave him a timid smile and then scooted out of his hold, cold the moment his arms weren’t around me.

  True to his word, I wouldn’t technically need anything. He’d packed all the necessities. I pulled my duffle bag with me into the bathroom and rummaged around to find my soap and toiletries. Bank’s place was nice. It had a reckless air about it that I didn’t find comforting at all, and it reeked of horrible choices, but I wasn’t in a place to be too picky. At least his kitchen and bathroom were newly remodeled and clean. I dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, black panties, matching bra, and a yellow shirt. There was a blow dryer on the bathroom counter; my dark blonde hair cascaded down my back when I stepped out of the bathroom.

  Feeling much more human.

  And entirely heartbroken.

  Wade hopped in when I was done, leaving me alone. I didn’t want to admit that I sat on that sofa and waited for him to come back out because there was a difference between addiction and desire.

  One drove you crazy.

  The other ruined your life.

  ***

  Wade

  I studied Esmaie’s ass as she walked a few feet ahead of me. Her jeans were black, forming to her long legs and ass like latex. We hadn’t touched again other than last night when we crashed on Bank’s couch again, in much the same position. I woke up a few times to find her fingers in my hair and wondered if she’d slept at all.

  The sun rose over the top of the classrooms on campus. Sleepy students shuffled past us, the steam from their coffees trailing behind them. I tossed mine in the trash and jogged to catch up to her.

  “You didn’t ask for anything yesterday. If I were a good guy, I’d let you have today in exchange, but I’m not, so we get to spend what little time we have together today my way. Starting now. Hold my hand.” I grabbed hers, tang
ling our fingers together. Any excuse to touch her…

  She smiled softly and shook her head at me. “You’re seriously the most romantic guy I’ve ever known.”

  I puffed out my chest. “Oh, last night, I farted, but I did it in the path of the A/C vent, so it wouldn’t blow to you. Romance 101.”

  Her eyes shone with humor. “You’re making me wet.”

  Lust flooded my body at the mention of her wet pussy. She was teasing, but I didn’t want that to be a joke. “All jokes aside, how are you handling all this? You were quiet last night when Bank came home. But I guess that could do with the fact that he’d brought home a screamer.” I ground my teeth together recalling how loud they’d had sex.

  “You call that sex? I wanted to bust in there and check on her. It sounded like a wrestling match gone wrong.”

  I chuckled, opening my mouth to respond, when a voice stopped me.

  “So that’s why you ditched me, Wade? Does your little girlfriend know we’d been making out all day before I left?”

  Cassandra, the woman who Esmaie had lost it on in the kitchen, stopped in font of us. I pressed my lips together. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” she asked innocently.

  “Don’t make something out of nothing.” I sighed, hating this shit. “Look, I know what this looks like, and I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that. I’m sorry if you thought it was.”

  “I have to go to class,” Esmaie said, tugging on her hand in mine. She wouldn’t even meet my eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She pulled her hand free and left.

  When I dropped my gaze back on Cassandra, any warmth was gone. “See what you did? Happy?”

  She pointed her finger at me. “We’re even.” And then she walked away and out of my life.

  “Thanks,” I grumbled under my breath, trying to see if I could spot Esmaie in the crowd. She’d disappeared.

  Without even kissing me goodbye… That shouldn’t bother me as much as it did. It felt like things were off-balance the moment I couldn’t find her in the crowd.

  I didn’t like leaving her feeling the way I just knew she was feeling. But what could I do? I ran to get to class, spending the day straining the few braincells I had left. I didn’t excel in academics. I comforted myself by considering the fact that not everyone did. But I’d always been good at sports.