by B. B. Hamel
But that second half, well, I decided to actually play.
The mafia had been appeased. I had fucked around that first half, but I wasn’t about to lose the game.
The ball felt light in my hands play after play. I threw it hard and straight, finding my players all over the field. I picked apart their weak defense, finding the seams and holes that I had purposefully ignored in the first half.
And I felt fucking good. I felt free, like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. It was done, that first half was over, and now I could do what I was born to do.
And I was born to fucking win.
It was twenty-seven to seven by the end of the game. Every touchdown came from a pass I threw, and every field goal was set up by my feet. I was all over that field, running and passing and diving. I took hits, but I got back up because I wasn’t letting my team down.
We won that game, and the locker room was a circus. Everyone was jubilant, excited, beyond happy that we walked away from what had looked like a potential loss. I celebrated along with them, though in the back of my mind I knew that I had almost cost them the game, had almost let my team and my coach down. All because I needed some money.
I was angry with myself, but I didn’t regret it. I did what I had to do.
Slowly, the locker room emptied out. Guy after guy left, most of them heading home to rest before going out to the celebratory parties tonight. Eventually I was alone with just my phone as company.
This was my post-game ritual. I sat in the locker room and went over the game mentally. Normally I didn’t text anyone, but for some reason I needed to see her.
She was the reason I was doing everything. She was the reason for that first half, but I couldn’t be angry with her. If anything, it only made me want to see her that much more.
I sat there and the minutes ticked by. She didn’t respond to my text, and I had no clue if she was even at the game. We hadn’t really spoken since Wednesday night at the gym.
As I leaned back, I heard the door open. Someone stepped inside and came around the corner.
She smiled at me. “Hi, Gibson.”
I frowned. “What are you doing here?”
She came closer, still wearing her cheerleader outfit. “I wanted to say congratulations,” Cathy said. “You looked amazing out there.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but I was hoping I could be alone.”
She pouted and came over to me. “Why are you so serious all the time, Gibson?”
“Not serious,” I grunted. “Just trying to have a second to myself.”
She smiled, trying to be sexy. She dropped down to her knees in front of me.
“I just wanted to come in here and congratulate you,” she said. “I wanted to give you something since you played so well.”
She reached out toward me.
“Fuck off, Cathy,” I said, knocking her hands away. “I’m not interested.”
She laughed. “Oh please, Gibson. You used to love it when I sucked your dick. We’re alone in here. Nobody will see.”
“I said no, Cathy. Fuck off.”
She gave me that stupid pouty look she did when she wasn’t getting her way but thought she still might. I shook my head and moved back.
And as I moved, I looked up. Avery was standing in the doorway, staring.
“Fuck,” I said, standing up. “Avery.”
“You texted,” she said. “I was just coming to say hey.”
Cathy looked back at her. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”
“Get the fuck out of here, Cathy.”
“Fuck you, Gibson,” she said, looking back at me.
“I should go.” Avery turned and quickly left.
I stared at Cathy. “Go throw yourself at someone who fucking wants you.”
“Grow some balls, Gibson.”
I quickly walked away from her and didn’t look back. The only thing on my mind was explaining to Avery what the hell that was.
“Avery,” I called out. She was halfway down the hallway, her bag over her shoulder. “Hold on.” I jogged to catch up with her.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I saw that you were busy.”
“No. It’s not like that. Cathy is just a psycho. You heard me turning her down.”
She nodded but looked away. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Come on, I wanted to see you, not Cathy.”
“You wanted me to get my data,” I said.
“That was just an excuse,” I admitted, staring at her.
She looked back at me, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Finally, she shook her head. “Come by my apartment later. We’ll do it then.”
“All right,” I said.
“See you.” She turned and quickly walked away.
I cursed and headed back into the locker room. Cathy was gone, thankfully, probably off to throw herself at one of the other players.
Cathy didn’t give a fuck about me. There were a lot of girls like Cathy out there in the world. All they cared about was fame and fortune.
Avery was different. She wasn’t throwing herself at me just because I was some football player. Honestly, she seemed like she couldn’t care less about that, and I had to admit that I found it incredibly refreshing.
But this wasn’t good. I could tell she was upset about it, even if she wasn’t coming out and admitting that. I didn’t blame her. From her perspective, it probably looked like I was into it or some shit.
I gathered my stuff up and headed out. I’d hit up my apartment, shower off, and go over to Avery’s.
Maybe then she’d realize that I wasn’t interested in anything but her.
16
Avery
The game had been one wild ride of elation, confusion, anger, and finally more confusion.
The first half was horrible. Gibson didn’t look like himself. It was almost as if he couldn’t find the other players, even when they sometimes looked wide open. He overthrew people, got sacked when he should have run away, and basically did everything wrong.
But the second half was glorious. He looked like himself, throwing the ball hard and accurately, scrambling around the field, making men miss who shouldn’t have missed. He looked beautiful on the field, like he belonged there, like he was at home. Gibson on the field was a shark swimming through water. It was the most natural thing in the world for him.
And I felt good cheering in the crowd with Harper. The anger and rejection I felt from my parents the day before hadn’t gone away, but it had lessened, weakened, like my mother’s words didn’t have as much power over me as they did only a few hours before. Standing in that crowd rejuvenated me, made me feel strong again.
Once the game was over, we filtered out with the rest of the crowd. I figured I’d see Gibson the next day or something. When we got back to the apartment not long later, I got a nice surprise text: Gibson wanted to see me.
So I gathered my equipment, jumped on my bike, and rode out there. It didn’t take long before I was walking through the mostly deserted back hallways of the stadium until I finally found the locker room.
And Cathy, kneeling in front of Gibson.
He was clearly rejecting her. I could see that, plain as day. But it was still a shock to see Cathy kneeling in front of him, giving him those eyes, even if he was getting up and trying to get away.
That hurt. I didn’t want it to hurt, but it did. Gibson didn’t owe me anything, and he wasn’t my boyfriend, so he could do whatever he wanted. He was a big star on campus after all. Plenty of girls were probably throwing themselves at him. Just because he got me pregnant by accident didn’t meant I got to control whatever he did.
But I hated seeing that. I hated how crazy it made me feel and how angry.
So I left. He wanted me to stay, wanted to see me, but I couldn’t look at him. I just kept seeing the famous football player, the big man on campus, and not Gibson, not the guy I had been spending so much time with this last week.
I trudged back
to my apartment, feeling like shit. I locked up my bike and found Harper sitting on the couch. “Back so soon?” she asked.
I sat down next to her. “I wish I could drink.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I caught him with his ex.”
“What?”
“I mean, she was throwing herself at him and he was rejecting her, but still.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. She was on her knees in front of him. I could hear him turning her down even before I got in the room, but I still didn’t like seeing it.”
“Man. What a whore.”
I laughed. “Don’t say that.”
“Whatever. I’m just defending my friend.”
“I know, Harps. I appreciate it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Honestly? I’m not going to do anything. I’m just going to sit here and forget about it.”
She sighed. “Oh, Avery, this sucks.”
“I know. I’m freaking pregnant and I have a huge crush on my baby daddy but I’m doing this weird study on him. Meanwhile, he keeps trying to come on to me but I’m too afraid to do anything. Oh, and my parents hate me.”
“Senior year is going great so far,” she said.
I laughed. “Yeah. It’s really awesome for me. This is not how I imagined it would go.”
“To be fair, does anyone think they’re going to get pregnant by the school super jock?”
“Probably not.”
“At least you know he likes you.”
“I don’t know. He wants me, but I don’t know if there’s anything more than that.”
“Come on, he’s letting you study him for this bio thing. The guy is into you.”
I sighed. “I guess. Can we not talk about Gibson for a little bit?”
“Sure,” she said, turning on the Real Housewives. “We can do that.”
I stared at the screen and did my best to turn off my brain, but it was impossible to shut down the constant cycle of worry and fear I was running through.
We must have watched an entire season of that show by the time I was sucked back into reality. One second I was staring at the television, and the next it was already ten at night.
“Did we just time travel?” I asked Harper as she got up and got herself some water.
“I think so. I’m pretty sure we just fell into a reality TV time vortex.”
“I suddenly have this insane urge to get a boob job.”
“That’s just the vortex affecting your brain. You must resist.”
I laughed and got up, stretching.
Suddenly, the buzzer on our door rang.
Harper raised an eyebrow. “Expecting someone?”
“Not until tomorrow.. Are you?”
“Nope.”
I walked over to the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Avery, it’s me.”
I knew that voice. Gibson.
“Hi, Gibson.”
“Mind if I come up?”
“I guess so.”
I buzzed him in. Harper gave me a look.
“What?” I asked her.
“You sure you want to see him right now?”
“No, but he’s here.”
“You can always throw him out.”
“I know.”
“Yell if you want me to do it for you. I’ll be in my room with earplugs in, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“Oh, you know.” She grinned at me and then disappeared back into her room.
I sighed, shaking my head. A second later, there was a knock on the door. I pulled it open.
Gibson stood there wearing jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I couldn’t help but glance at the tattoos on his arms and at the way he held himself, grinning at me slightly.
“Hey,” he said.
“Gibson, what are you doing here?”
He laughed. “You sound surprised to see me.”
“I don’t know. I just figured you’d be out somewhere celebrating.”
“I could be, but I decided I wanted to be here instead.”
I bit my lip. “Come in.” I stepped aside and he walked in, looking around.
“Want anything?” I asked him.
“I’m good.”
“Sit down, I guess.”
He took a seat on the couch, crossing his legs. “What did you think of the game earlier?”
I shrugged. “It was exciting.”
“First half wasn’t great.”
“No, but you came back.”
“Early season jitters.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the ground. “Well, since you’re here.”
“You want to do my vitals?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
He began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m all yours.”
That was what I was afraid of. I left the room and quickly grabbed my bag. When I came back, he was sitting on the couch, grinning at me casually, his shirt draped over the chair. I glanced at his body, still not used to seeing him like that, before I got out my equipment.
“Sorry again about what you saw earlier,” he said.
“I know it wasn’t your fault.”
“People do shit like that,” he said. “I didn’t want it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like what I said before. People want things from me, but they also want to give me things, because they think they can get me in their debt. I hate being in people’s debt.”
“I understand. It’s really okay.” I started with his blood pressure and then got his temperature.
“How am I?” he asked.
“What? You’re amazing,” I said, off balance.
“I meant my vitals. I know how great I am.”
I blushed. “They’re good. About the same as last time.”
“Good. I need to be healthy.”
“Yeah. Your body is your job.”
“Pretty much.”
My fingertips brushed across his skin, and suddenly I realized something.
He could be out anywhere right now. He could be at some party having a wild time. People wanted him, wanted him to go to their parties. I was sure he had a hundred invites on his phone right now, and probably all of his buddies were wondering where he was.
And instead of doing all of that, instead of enjoying his victory, he was in my apartment with me. He was letting me take his vitals, but that was just an excuse. He wanted to be around me so much that he was willing to skip going out and having a good time.
I pulled off the blood pressure cuff and took out the thermometer. I took his pulse, feeling nervous for some reason. It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d done this with him, but it felt like we’d never touched before.
“Your heart rate is a little high,” I commented when I was done.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why?”
“I’m looking at you, thinking about what I want to do to you.”
I cocked my head to the side slightly. I felt a thrill jolt through me. “Like what?”
He reached forward and took my hair, pulling me toward him. “I keep thinking about the way your pussy felt wrapped around my hard cock.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said, smiling slightly. I could feel how wet I was already.
“I want your ass in the air, begging for it, dripping wet. I want to slowly push myself inside you, holding your hips tight. I want to feel you shiver as I fill that tight little pussy.”
“Okay,” I said, and he kissed me.
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his shirtless chest. I could feel his warmth and his hard muscles against me.
His kiss was what I’d been needing, what I’d been begging for. His taste flooded my mouth, new and familiar all at once. I kissed him hard, his hands pulling me closer, tighter. We kissed like that hard, thrills running down my spine in waves and waves of need and want.<
br />
And just as I felt myself getting into it, completely losing myself, his phone began to ring.
I pulled back, breathing heavily.
“Don’t stop,” he said to me.
“Answer it,” I said. “It could be important.”
“It’s not.”
“Answer it. I’m not going anywhere.”
He frowned and then grabbed his phone from his pocket. He answered it.
“What?” His expression was annoyed, but a second later he went completely blank. “Okay,” he said. “I know where that is. When?” He paused to listen. “All right. Fine.” He hung up the phone.
“What was that?”
“Listen, I need to go.”
I frowned. “Really?”
He sighed. “Avery, believe me, leaving right now is the fucking last thing I want to do, but this is important.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a business thing.”
“At ten on a Saturday?”
“Yeah.” He stood up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“It’s okay,” I said. He buttoned up his shirt, and I wished he wouldn’t. When he was finished, he pulled me up toward him and kissed me again.
“I promise, if this weren’t incredibly important, I wouldn’t go.”
“I believe you,” I said, and I did.
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
He let me go and then turned and left.
I stared at the door for a second before the frustration really hit me. What awful fucking timing.
Why the hell did I tell him to answer that phone?
I sighed and slowly put my equipment away. I was still soaking wet and frustrated, but I was going to have to wait. At least I’d finally kissed him, finally given in to what I really wanted.
That was better than nothing, at least.
17
Gibson
I had the worst fucking luck.
I looked around the parking lot of the abandoned high school, but I was still alone. It was ten thirty and I was right on time, but it looked like the guy was running late.
The high school used to serve the whole town around MD, but that was a long time ago. It closed down when the steel mills started to disappear. Now it was just a hangout for druggies and homeless people. There was trash littering the parking lot, and the windows were all busted out from the buildings.