People placed the craziest things on the images:
“Pimp strong and prosper.”
“Scoring! One hole at a time.”
“Scrimmage these nuts, hoe!”
I avoided Facebook like it was my job.
Last weekend, Melanie and I went to a club thirty minutes away from campus. I’d simply hoped to get away from all of the drama. Plus, they almost never carded women in V-neck shirts, exposing a little cleavage.
Rap music had filled the place, and what played was a song people expected to be the hit for the upcoming summer.
Quarterback Hustle.
At first, it sounded like any other misogynist hip-hop song—gold this, cars that, women this, dope bars that. And then, the hook came on.
“Get it in, all day, I pimp like Jay. Got the Heisman, in ruining bitches’ hymens.” Forty Bomb’s voice rode the fast booming of the base. “I be on my quarterback hustle. These haters defense, flexing no muscle. Quarterback!”
The crowd had roared, “Quarterback!”
There was even a dance. People hiked one of their legs up, held an imaginary ball, reached their arm back, and threw just like Jay. The next move was jerking their shoulders and going to the next leg with the same earlier steps.
Melanie had to drag me out of there before I attacked the D.J.
In the past two weeks, the media had let go of the whole situation. A Dallas Cowboy cornerback had been caught on tape having sex with a seventeen-year-old girl. That news was just too juicy not to explode on every network. Journalists left us alone. Later problems came from gossip bloggers and people around school.
Fellow students, I could handle. All I needed to do was knock a chick out. I'd proven my point once at a fraternity party. I’d strolled by and a girl had yelled, “Heisman Whore.” She'd fallen to the ground before anybody could process what had happened. News of that traveled. Now, people kept their mouths closed when I walked by them.
“You're just off in your own world today.” Jay crossed his arms over that massive chest. The last of the elegantly dressed football players rounded the track.
I drank in his form a bit more. “And you're getting super big.”
A grin spread across his face. “Yeah? You think so?”
“You know so.”
“I'm trying.” He flexed. Tan skin expanded over the bulk. Each arm looked like they could be as big as my thighs.
“How much do you weigh now?” I asked.
“I was 175 when I started playing freshmen year. I'm 195 now. I'm trying to get to 220, at least before the draft starts.”
“Goodness. I don't know if I'm ready to see you get that big.”
“You'll love it.” He licked those lips again. “Plus, I'll be harder to knock down in the pros.”
“But will the pounds mess with your speed?”
He wiped his forehead again. “I'm working on it.”
“Are you nervous about the draft?”
“Yes, but I’m also blessed I get a chance to play in the pros.”
An ache rang in my heart. “So this will definitely be your last year?”
“Yes. I was going to finish the degree but...coach convinced me, said I could get hurt in college football next season and ruin my career for the future. I’m entering May’s draft.”
“That’s in two weeks,” I whispered. “Are you scared?”
“Shitless.”
“Don’t be. Everybody wants you.”
Three girls strolled by and giggled at Jay.
“Like I said, everyone wants you,” I mumbled again.
“I’m still scared,” Jay admitted. “Shit happens, Evie. People get injured. Their careers are gone. And even worse, nothing else is in sight for most injured college players. Nothing but maybe coaching at their hometown's high school. But anyway, I talk about football all the time. Now that I have a few moments with you alone, let's talk about something else.”
“Like what?”
“I miss you.” He looked me up and down, spending several seconds on my breasts and hips.
My hormones had already been drumming a little anxious rhythm in my chest. Sex had been nonexistent in my life since we'd left Miami. Due to that, I did my best to keep Jay away from me as much as possible.
“Evie, you look beautiful today.”
“I'm wearing gym shorts and a shirt.”
“You look gorgeous in anything.”
“You're laying it on thick.”
“You smell good too.” Sniffing the air, he grinned. “Is that the perfume I bought you for your birthday last year?”
Yes.
On the day he gave me the perfume, he'd decorated the box in Hershey’s chocolate bar wrappers. I'd found it hilarious while a horrified expression had covered Pipe's face. Once I opened the gift, shock had hit me. He'd managed to remember the exact perfume I'd been drooling over in a department store one night when we hung out together. That was typical Jay. Anything that made me smile or laugh, he took note of, bought, or did his best to bring it around me in some way.
“Are you almost out of it?” Jay's voice dragged me back into present time.
“Out of what?”
“The perfume. I could get you some more.”
“I'm fine.”
“Have you been dating anyone, lately?”
“Not really. Just one guy.”
He formed his mouth into a frown. “Who? I haven't seen you with anyone.”
“He's not here.”
The frown deepened. “Where is he?”
“D.C.”
Jay nodded and wiped his face. “How did you meet this guy? D.C. is pretty far.”
“Is this conversation uncomfortable?” I leaned my weight on one foot and tapped the other one. “I mean, I don't think I would want to hear about you dating someone else.”
“You won't have to. I'm not.”
“You will.”
“I’m not.”
“I bet women flirt with you every day.”
“They do. They come into my room, sneak into my shower, lean against my car, and watch me during practice. They are everywhere, and I ignore them.” He targeted me with a gaze that delivered heat to my body. “I've found who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
I shifted my weight to the other foot. “Well...I hope you and she enjoy a happy life. Although you should probably relax. You're young. You have years before you should get married.”
“What if we're only meant to be with one person in this world, and you find them? Do you wait or take your prize right then?”
Tension built in my shoulders. I took one last glance at him. “I should go over there and make sure everyone signed up. Thanks again, Jay.”
I walked off.
“Really?” He rushed to my side.
“What?”
“We can't talk for a few minutes?”
I stopped on the grass. “We just did.”
“About fucking football. I talk about that enough every day.”
“Fine. Next time we can talk about something else.” I headed away from him.
“Then just answer my question?”
“What question, Jay?”
“Do you think we're only meant to be with one person?”
I shook my head. “That would suck. There’re so many people all over this globe. I bet we have hundreds of lovers meant for us.”
“But—”
“Talk to you later, Jay.”
Still in just his boxer briefs, Jay got to my side and kept my speed. Many women checked him out as we hurried by. I didn't blame them. If I stared at him any longer, I'd be wet and ready for anything he had to offer.
Thank God he is the only guy who does this to me. Shit. If all males did this, I'd be whoring myself out for chocolate!
“Come on, Evie. I want a do-over with our conversation if I'm only going to get a few minutes of your time. Let's start over.”
“I can't right now.”
“You can,” he co
untered.
“Actually, I can't.” I picked up my pace. “What did I say this time to end our conversation?” I sighed. “Don't start.”
“You don't answer my calls.”
“I've been busy.”
“Until you need me, then you'll talk all day.”
I showed him my middle finger. “That's bullshit.”
“You avoid me.”
“Of course, I do.” I stopped again and turned to him. “We're broken up. It's been hard on me.”
“We?” he said through clenched teeth. “I didn't break up with you.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“You broke up with me.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I broke up with you and your girlfriend who I was in a damn relationship with. I left your crazy arrangement that I'd agreed to because I was stupid in love.”
“I told you that when we got back together, it would be just you and me.”
“Yeah, but you said that after she decided not to be with you.”
He blew out a long breath. “I never loved Cynthia like you. This is crazy. You know we should be together. It was always you before her.”
I pointed at him. “I guess we'll never know that since you fucked it all up when you got a chance to have me.”
“Jesus Christ even convicted felons get a second chance at life.”
“Lower your voice.”
He growled.
“I'm sorry. We should end this conversation.”
“Why?”
“Because this is the same conversation that we have all the time. The same things we've been saying since we came back from Miami.” I switched the clipboard to my side. “You say you did everything to get me back. I say you did everything to push me away. Then we disagree some more. You say something stupid, and I storm off after socking you in your stomach. I've been trying to be less violent these days. I don't want to hit you.”
He formed his lips into a smile. “I don't mind the hitting. At least you touch me. It’s the walking away that I can’t deal with.”
“Oh, stop it.”
He leaned my way and whispered in my ear. “I want a date.”
A shiver shot to my core. “No.”
“Give me another chance.”
“I think we should just be friends. That's where our relationship is the strongest.”
“Bullshit,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I don't want to be hurt anymore. I want you in my life forever. That's something I know for sure.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “If we're just friends, your chances of hurting me go way down.”
“I can't be just friends with you.”
“You're about to be a professional football player. Ballers aren't necessarily known for their loyalty towards their women.”
“I’m not those guys.”
“I bet players have a woman in every city they visit. That’s exactly what will happen to you. Jay, the Heisman Pimp. You'll be sticking your dick in every woman on both coasts. Then you'll marry some blonde trophy wife, have a bunch of kids. Meanwhile, you'll still have other floozies begging for a taste in every city across America.”
He quirked his eyebrows.
“What?” I asked.
“You've really thought about this.”
I blushed and walked off. “No. It's just the reality of the situation.”
“No, it’s not.”
I snorted. “Move on. We're both going off in different directions.”
Getting on my side, he captured my arm and stopped me. “You're the only one that's walking away from us.”
I scanned the area. Some of the people in the stands glanced in our direction. Luckily, no news cameras or reporters monitored us. “Let's talk about this later.”
“You'll change the topic later. That's only if you don't just ignore my calls altogether.” He stared at the ground. “That shit hurts you know, not being able to do what we do best, which is hang out together. You say we're friends, but when's the last time we've done anything?”
“We went to the movies three weeks ago.”
“No. I happened to see you and Cynthia at the movies, and you both let me sit next to you.”
I sighed. “Fine. We could maybe do something next week.”
“Next week?” He rolled his eyes. “By the time next week comes, you'll have an excuse to say no.”
“Well, that's being negative.” I stepped back to put some distance between us. He was still half naked after all, and my body...well, every part of it yearned to have him on me. I had to end this conversation soon before I agreed to something I couldn't get out of.
“Can I see you tonight?” he asked.
My body hummed. “I'm busy.”
“Doing what? Talking to your friend in D.C.?”
“I'll be studying.”
“For what?”
“None of your business.”
He leaned his sexy self my way. “I'm asking because maybe we can study together.” And have you fingering me in the back of the library before I open a book? Hell no.
“I like to study on my own,” I said.
“Unless it's with Cynthia,” he muttered.
“She's my roommate. We might as well study together every now and then. But no. Tonight, I'm going solo.”
“Be careful with her.”
“Who, Cynthia?”
“Yeah.”
I held my hands out. “What the hell does that mean? Why do I have to be careful with her?”
“She basically came on to you down in Miami when we were...” He couldn't finish the sentence, and I couldn't do it for him.
Images flashed through my mind of that morning in Miami—our moist bodies colliding, Jay's hands caressing my aching nipples as I rode him hard, his cock, thick and long expanding my core and urging me to buck like a mad woman.
The night before, we'd fallen asleep in Pipe's hotel suite's sitting area. That morning, a few sweet whispers from Jay's lips had my thighs spread and my pussy dripping. Cynthia had walked in on us, and instead of stopping the sex, I continued to ride Jay, pumping both of our bodies into fiery submission. And instead of Cynthia leaving, she walked over to us, touching her own breasts and hoping to come over and join in.
Jay stopped it. Since then, everything had been weird.
“She follows you around,” he confessed.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen her following you around a few times.”
“You’ve seen this with your own eyes?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call me up and say something?”
He shrugged. “Because I was stalking you too.”
That's why he said he hadn't seen me with anyone. He's been watching me the whole time.
I tensed. Stress jumped around in my veins and made me jittery. How do you respond when an ex-boyfriend who you’ve loved all your life decides to blurt out that he's been tracking your movements from time to time? How do you then analyze that with the fact that while stalking me, he spotted my asexual roommate following me around too?
What the fuck is wrong with the both of them?
“Okay.” I tightened my hold on the clipboard. “I’m going to need you to stop stalking me like a weirdo.”
“No.”
“Come again? It sounded like you said no.” I did a show of cupping my hand around my ear as if to hear him better.
“I said no, Evie. Hell no, in fact. You want to keep distance between us? Fine. Understand this.” He took a step closer. “You and I aren’t finished.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Maybe I’m just tired of playing by the rules with you.”
“Umm...you think you’ve played by other people’s rules? Wrong. The very reason you’re in this predicament is because you did what you wanted instead of respecting my feelings.” I edged back. Like a ninny, he met my step and was right back in front of me. “You’re just going to push me away further.”
&nb
sp; “Pipe says you don’t have a choice when it comes to me. That you’ll always love me.”
“Now you’ve really lost your mind if you’re listening to him.” Nina Simone’s deep voice singing the chorus of “Sinnerman” stopped the conversation. I’d made it my main phone ringer for people I was avoiding, so I didn’t even check who was calling and ignored it. “And tell your ex-girlfriend not to stalk me next time you see her doing it.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said. “She’s your new buddy and roommate, so tell her yourself.”
“Jealous?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
I opened my mouth for a few silent seconds and then finally said, “Bye, Jay. I’ll deal with this later.”
His phone rang, right as mine finally finished. He checked the screen. “It’s your mom.”
“I thought she stopped talking to you?”
“She did.” He placed the phone to his ear. “Hello? Mrs. Elaine?”
I decided to wait and see what was going on. Mom loved Jay, but she still needed time to forgive him. Every now and then, Mom discussed castration with regard to Jay.
Why is she calling him now? Pipe, did you do something stupid over there?
Pipe had flown back to California to stay with my mom. During his time there, he’d entertained Mom daily yet pissed me off with his antics—redecorating my childhood room, sewing cloth penises on my teddy bears, posting embarrassing baby pictures of me on Facebook, and calling me up in the middle of the night to make me aware of the possible ghosts that haunted the house.
“I can sense these things.” Pipe whispered into the phone as if speaking louder would disturb them. “There are several ghosts in your house. Did people die here, whether from old age or mass murder?”
“Go to sleep.” I yawned and closed my eyes, my fingers barely gripping the phone.
“Why should I go to sleep?”
“It’s in the middle of the night.”
“You’re in Florida. It’s like six in the morning over there.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“I think the ghost is a toddler. Probably a girl. I can feel a feminine presence, yet there’s something childish about her spirit. I'm sensing this in my gut.”
“Maybe you have diarrhea.”
“Maybe you have diarrhea of open-mindedness.”
“Oh God.” I groaned and rolled over in my bed. “That doesn't even make any sense.”
The COMPLETE Coventon Campus Series: Books I, II, & III Page 32