Hunter (Campus Kings): A Football Secret Baby Novel

by Celia Loren

  "Have you been thinking about me?" he asks. Even if he weren't holding me, his gaze would pin me to this spot.

  "Yes," I admit, my head spinning. With a growl, like I've unleashed an animal, he pulls me tightly against him and covers my lips with his. Unlike our gentle first kiss, this time I feel like he's devouring me. And I love it.

  Our tongues clash against each other's and his hands slide over my ass. This time I don't pull away. I wrap my arms around his thick neck and dig my fingers into his hair. His hands slide down my thighs and he pulls me up and onto his crotch with my knees resting on either side of him on my bed. I instinctively raise myself up and lower myself down again and feel his cock slide against my jeans.

  God, I want to feel him everywhere. I'm filled with an almost uncontrollable urge to rip off my clothes, but something holds me back. I'm still a virgin, and I know that I'm not ready yet. Well, my body might be, but my heart and mind aren't.

  "Hunter," I gasp, pulling back and dismounting. "I'm sorry, this is just going too fast for me."

  I wonder if he's going to argue with me, or try to pressure me, but instead he takes my hand. "Don't apologize. It's me. I get around you and...do you want me to…?" he nods to the door.

  "You don't have to. I mean, you could stay, if you want," I offer shyly.

  "Really? Don't worry, I won't try anything," he assures me. He glances around the room. "Wow, I haven't done this in a really long time," he says with a somewhat bashful smile.

  "What?"

  "Just, um, hung out."

  "So mostly you just sleep with girls?" I ask, sitting next to him on the bed.

  "You really want to know this stuff?" he asks, eyeing me.

  I shrug. "Well, if it's the truth, then yeah."

  "Okay, yeah. I have sex with women, and I don't get to know them, and they don't get to know me."

  "And then you talk about them in the locker room?" I venture.

  His head snaps to me. "Why do you say that?"

  "Well, it's true, isn't it?"

  "Yes," he replies slowly. "But I want you to know that you...I would never talk about you like that."

  "You know my dad hears that stuff right? He warned me away from you guys, too."

  He turns toward me intently. "So is that why he hates me so much? The locker room talk? Because all the guys do that, but he seems to have it out for me specifically."

  "Um…" I hesitate.

  "Sorry, I'm not trying to get you to break a confidence."

  "No, that's okay. I'm just, I'm trying to string together what he's told me about you over the years," I reply with a smile. "I think...I think he expects more from you than from the rest of his players, that's all."

  "But why? That's not fair," Hunter says, frustration building on his face.

  "When you first started, I remember him saying that he was impressed by your talent, but he was more excited by the fact that you were smart, that you actually had leadership potential. And then, well, you sort of…"

  "Disappointed the fuck out of him?" he asks bitterly. "My dad always told me not to worry about that stuff, that pro scouts aren't witnessing me giving pep talks, so what's the point? It's just a waste of energy."

  "Huh," I reply, trying to be diplomatic. "I don't want to get in the middle here, but it sounds like one of those ways you're more, and one of those ways you're less. I mean, the QB is the team's leader. I think you'd be surprised how the players would follow you if you showed them how. If you could truly inspire them."

  "Inspire them?" he asks, flopping backward onto my bed. "I'm not sure I'm up to that."

  "Of course you are," I tell him. "You've just never tried it before." I move to lie down next to him, and he turns on his side to face me so that I can actually fit. When he lies on his back, his shoulders reach almost all the way across my little twin-sized mattress.

  "You say you're not a football fan, but it sounds like you've picked up a lot," he observes with a smile, and I feel my body warm at the sight of his lips curving.

  "Well, it's just me and my dad, so sometimes he uses me as a sounding board."

  "Got any other tips for me?"

  "Seriously? Because your footwork—"

  He laughs. "No, no, forget it! I've already got enough coaches telling me what to do. Tell me...tell me about your classes," he finally says, and wraps an arm around me, pulling me in so that my head rests in the crook of his neck.

  "Okay, well, you know Fozzie Bear from the Muppets? That's who my Pysch 101 teacher reminds me of," I say, and feel him bury his head in my hair with a grin.

  Chapter 12

  Hunter

  I wake up, and feel an unfamiliar weight on my arm. I'm about to shake it off, when I look down and realize that it's Britt's head, using me as a pillow. An unfamiliar feeling of contentment spreads through me. I'm so used to a feeling of restlessness...it drives me forward, making me want to be better than everyone around me, but it also makes it nearly impossible to stop and enjoy the moment. But right now, I feel like I could stay in this narrow twin bed forever.

  Well, maybe not forever. I do really need to piss. I look down at Britt. She's half on top of me, since it's the only way we can fit on this tiny mattress. I gently slide my hand under her head, intending to scoop her up. Her eyes flutter open, her long eyelashes batting against her brow bone.

  "Hi," she whispers, blushing as though she feels shy.

  "Hi," I murmur back, and the shy feeling hits me, too.

  The door bursts open and we both start. "Hi," her roommate says, standing frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide. "I'll just—" she begins to turn around and leave.

  "No, it's your room," I say, and Britt sits up to allow me to get out of bed. I'm still in my clothes; we both fell asleep talking with them on.

  Danielle slowly closes the door. "Hey, um, Britt filled me in on last weekend, and I just wanted to say thanks," she says.

  "Don't worry about it," I tell her. "But if you could maybe not tell anyone that—"

  "I'm sworn to secrecy," Danielle assures me with a smile.

  "Well, I better get going then," I say, turning back to Britt. She looks gorgeous, even first thing in the morning. Her lips are the colors of raspberries, and she self-consciously tucks her unruly brown curls behind her ears. "I need to see you again," I murmur into her ear.

  I watch a smile spread across her face, and she crawls to the foot of her bed and reaches for a pencil and piece of paper on her desk. She writes out her number, and then hands it to me. I stuff it into my pocket, kiss her softly on the lips, and nod to Danielle, who looks positively delighted by what she's witnessing.

  As I head out of the dorm, I check the time on my phone. Good thing Danielle woke us up, actually, because I need to be at practice. It's not a full practice since we had a game last night, but Coach McKay wants the first team to meet with our offensive coordinator to go over some missteps. Not that any of them were on me. Some of these younger players just don't spend enough time with the playbook and end up fucking up.

  During the meeting, I listen with half an ear as I turn my phone over and over in my pocket. I want to ask Britt on a proper date, but I haven't had to do that for years. I guess I should call, rather than text.

  Fuck, I know this is a bad idea. I mean, she's Coach's daughter, and I could tell by the look in his eyes when he held Devon up against those lockers that he wasn't fooling around. But there's something about Britt...she's like a drug to me. The fact that I'm going to see her again feels inevitable.

  I want to roll my eyes as I catch Rob, the sophomore tight end who fumbled in the game, frowning over the playbook, but then I catch myself. I wonder what Britt would think of me, dismissing this kid so quickly. She's a better person than me, that's obvious. So how can I make myself worthy of her?

  The meeting wraps up, and Rob looks like he's about to get a migraine as he rubs his temples and stares at the patterns that our offensive coordinator has been trying to drill into our heads. My body
feels stiff and bruised. There's nothing I'd like more right now than to head back to my apartment and sink into a nice hot bath.

  "Come on," I say to Rob, cuffing him on the shoulder.

  "What? Why?" he asks, looking alarmed.

  "You're clearly not learning anything by sitting here, so let's go," I reply brusquely, and he frowns. Shit, I sound like I'm insulting him. I sigh. "I'm going to help you," I clarify.

  "Oh, shit, really?" he asks, quickly getting to his feet. I lead him down the hallway and out toward the practice field. "This playbook is so overwhelming, man."

  "Maybe you're just not a visual learner," I tell him. "Some people have to learn by doing." I grab a rack of practice balls and pull it onto the field behind me, rolling my shoulder around to get it loose. Rob gets into the three-point position, and for the next hour, I drill him over and over in our most commonly used plays. My throwing arm is begging me for a break, but by the end, Rob looks way better than I've ever seen him.

  I turn back toward the building for a second, and see a face watching us from the offices. It's Coach McKay, and he's staring right at me. I look away, feeling unsettled. He couldn't have found out about me and Britt, right?

  Chapter 13

  Britt

  "Wow, Rob's playing well tonight," I comment to Danielle from our front row seats. Vanover is playing Colorado in a home night game, and we're up ten to seven near the end of the second half.

  "Which one is that again?" she murmurs, peering out onto the field.

  "The tight end who ran the slant." She looks at me blankly. "Number twenty-three," I clarify, pointing him out.

  "You really know your stuff," she says, looking impressed.

  "It's hard not to pick up on it," I tell her. "And intellectually, it can be fascinating."

  "Plus Hunter looks so hot in those tight pants," Danielle replies.

  "That, too," I agree, collapsing into giggles. The team had an away game last week, so it's been two whole weeks since Hunter and I have actually been able to see each other, though we've talked on the phone and texted. I can't wait for the game to be over, because even though I like watching Hunter play, we're going out on our first date tonight. I asked if he wanted to wait until tomorrow so he could rest, but he insisted on tonight.

  "So where's he taking you?" she asks.

  "He wouldn't say. He only promised that we wouldn't be recognized," I tell her. The game ends with another win for Vanover, extending our undefeated season. My father and Hunter are both quickly swarmed by reporters. His performance is attracting more and more heat from NFL teams, and everyone wants an interview with the star. Danielle and I stand, getting ready to head out. I try to make eye contact with Hunter, but I can't even see him now.

  "Britt." My head snaps down and I see my father standing on the field just below us, his headset around his neck.

  "Great game, Dad," I tell him. "This is my roommate Danielle."

  She reaches down to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

  "You too," my dad says, serious as ever. "Are you headed back to the dorm now?" he asks us both.

  "I might head out to a party for a little," Danielle replies, and I can hear a hint of nervousness in her voice. Even though my dad has no power over her, he still manages to intimidate.

  "Hm," he grunts disapprovingly, and turns to me expectantly.

  "Yep, just heading back to our dorm," I reply, trying to seem normal. I'm not used to lying to him.

  "Good. Talk to you later, then," he says, and heads off to the locker room.

  "Jeez, he's even scarier in person, huh?" Danielle says, taking a deep breath.

  "Yeah. I think he likes you, though," I offer.

  "Really?"

  "I know it's hard to tell," I commiserate, and we head up the steps and out of the stadium. "I feel so guilty about lying to him. It's always just been the two of us, and we've always been really open with each other."

  "Well, as long as you stay safe, that's all he wants, you know? Maybe the details aren't so important," she reasons. I nod, hoping she's right.

  It takes forever for us to get out of the stadium. The mood of the surrounding fans is jubilant, but I'm distracted by looking at my phone. Finally, I get a text from Hunter. It's an address, and Danielle catches me frowning at it.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I think he just wants me to meet him at his apartment," I tell her. She pulls me over to a quieter spot on the sidewalk, letting the hordes of people pass by us. "What if...what if he's just trying to sleep with me?" I whisper, giving voice to my deepest fear.

  "Look, if you get there, and you feel like that's the case, then you leave," she reasons.

  "That's what you think I should do?"

  "I can't tell you what to do," Danielle says, putting her hand on my shoulder. "What does it feel like to you? Do you think he just wants sex?"

  "It's just, it's hard to believe sometimes that he actually likes me. He could have any girl on campus," I tell her, and am shocked to feel a tear slip down my cheek. I hurriedly wipe it away, aware that we're still surrounded by people, even though it's dark.

  "Yeah, but I'm not surprised that he wants you. You're beautiful, smart, kind...you know a ton about football."

  I smile. "Thanks."

  "So? What do you think?"

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second, trying to sense what I want. "I'm going."

  Chapter 14

  Hunter

  I hurriedly pull off my jersey, tossing it into the laundry bin, then sit on the bench to unlace my cleats.

  "Fuck, man! That was amazing!" Rob exclaims, coming up and pounding my shoulder.

  "You did great, brother," I tell him.

  "Naw, man. It was all you," he says. He looks pumped as hell, and no wonder. He just had the best football game of his career.

  "In a hurry?" Adam asks, pitching himself down on the bench next to me and lazily undoing his laces.

  "Uh, yeah," I mumble. "I put off this paper for a while and I gotta get to it."

  "It's Friday night. Do it tomorrow," Adam says frowning.

  "Naw, I gotta get it done tonight. Promised my professor. I already missed a deadline."

  Adam leans in and frowns at me. "Bull. You never came back to the party a couple weeks ago, and now you're gonna sneak off and not come tonight? You've got a piece on the side."

  "I've got a paper," I insist.

  "What's the problem? She ugly or something? Don’t want to bring her around?" Devon asks. He's come up behind us and has been listening. My neck muscles tense and I practically growl at him. He throws up his hands apologetically. "Damn, alright. Everybody's so sensitive around here. Made of porcelain or something."

  Adam is still staring at me, and I look back at him as I grab a towel and head for the showers. "Just let it go, man," I advise him, and he shrugs.

  In the showers, I try to go as fast as possible while also making sure I don't fucking stink for my date tonight. It's my first date with Britt, and I don't want it to be my last. On my way out, I grab my phone and shoot her a text with my address.

  I'd like to be able to beat her there, but I doubt that will be possible. My fears are confirmed as I'm swarmed again as I come out of the stadium. I sign a few autographs, and then put my head down and just begin to barrel ahead. At my size, it's impossible to try to go around anyone.

  I hop in my car, and in ten minutes, with the post-game traffic, I'm pulling into the underground parking lot in my building. I hurry up to the lobby, and sure enough, Britt is standing right outside. I give her a wave and open the door. She smiles at me, but I detect a nervousness, fear even. I slip my hand as comfortingly as I can around her waist, and place a soft kiss on her cheek. She's wearing a t-shirt that stretches over her breasts, and jeans that hug her in all the right places. If she's got any makeup on at all, I can't tell.

  "You look beautiful," I murmur.

  "Thanks," she replies. "You sure you don't just want to rest tonig
ht? I bet you need to ice your arm."

  I look at her in surprise. "No, I'm good. Maybe I'll ice during dinner," I tell her as we head up in the elevator.

  "Dinner?"

  "Yeah, of course, what'd you think?" She looks down at her feet, and I can guess. "Oh, you thought this might have been a booty call."

  "I don't mean to be rude, but...you do have a certain reputation."

  "No, that's okay, I get it," I tell her, unlocking my apartment door and ushering her inside.

  "Woah," she says, spotting the dining room table that I set before I headed out to the game this afternoon.

  "I thought about taking you somewhere outside the city for dinner, where I wouldn't get recognized, but honestly…"

  "You're super famous?" she finishes for me with a laugh.

  "Hey, you said it," I reply with a smile. "I'll have to reheat everything, but I got us a feast from this barbecue place on Belmont. It's supposed to be the best."

  "Oh yeah, I know that place. I went there all the time growing up," she says. "It's my favorite."

  In short order we're sitting down at the table, and I even light the candles in the center that my mom insisted on getting to decorate the place. Britt insists on getting an ice pack from the freezer and helping me wrap it around my right shoulder. I eat like a ravenous animal, and Britt watches me in amazement.

  "Sorry," I finally realize, and lean back, the food almost gone.

  "No, that's okay. I can't imagine how many calories you burn. How's the ice? Do you need a new pack?" she reaches over and places her delicate fingers on the blue plastic cover.

  I take her hand. It practically disappears in mine. Her eyes widen a little, but she stands as I pull her toward me while I push my chair out from the table. She lands in my lap, and I wrap my arms around her. I can almost reach my fingers all the way around her tiny waist.

  "Hunter?" she whispers, as I lean my head toward hers. Her lips look so enticing...like fresh berries I want to dig my teeth into.