Dragging my gaze from her beautiful face, I greeted Wayne and Alisa. Alisa barely acknowledged me. She looked right past me, craning her neck and squinting. I glanced over my shoulder but saw nothing.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing. Nothing at all.” She blushed, and from what I knew of her, she didn’t blush often.
Wayne snorted. “She’s looking for Gage.” He clasped his hands together over his heart and swayed back and forth.
Alisa punched him in the arm. “I am not.”
Wayne rubbed his arm and glared at her. “Are too.”
“Am not.”
I looked to Tiff for confirmation. “She totally is,” she said with a sassy wink my way. Shit, if she didn’t stop that, I’d be getting a boner at breakfast.
Alisa shot daggers at all three of us. “You’re delusional. Gage was a one-nighter, but I’ve moved on.”
Sadness flashed in Alisa’s eyes, a clue to who had actually moved on. My man Gage didn’t date. He fucked women and walked away before they attached themselves. His methods didn’t always work. Case in point, that cheerleader Callie, our sophomore year. He’d spent an entire weekend in bed with her, expecting to emerge unscathed as usual. Instead, she told anyone who’d listen that they were engaged, even bought a fake ring, and sneaked into our house on multiple occasions to wait naked in his bed. Gage, being Gage, didn’t turn down a naked woman in his bed, which caused Callie to cling to him even more. This little game of theirs continued through the majority of spring quarter until she sneaked into his room while he was banging another member of the cheerleading squad. Callie went postal, breaking shit, screaming, crying, threatening to do bodily harm to herself and us.
I don’t mess with that shit. I called the police and my uncle. Callie was arrested, spent the night in jail, and was presented with a restraining order first thing the next morning courtesy of Uncle Coop’s attorney. The university expelled her a week later after she pulled her sneak-in-bed trick on a professor. But when you sleep around as much as Gage, there are bound to be a few whack jobs in the bunch.
“She hasn’t learned her lesson at all,” Wayne added with a wicked grin. “She wants him.”
Alisa waved him off and concentrated on her phone, dismissing him.
I sat back and watched the show as Gage ambled across the coffee shop in that loose-hipped gait of his. I reached for Tiff’s hand and squeezed it, just as Gage dropped his tray on the table and folded his tall frame into the too-small chair.
Alisa didn’t look up, but by the tensing in her body, she knew he was there.
“Nice to see you finally got out of bed,” I said. Gage was a notoriously late sleeper.
“All rested up and ready for battle. Gonna kick some Bruin ass,” he said to me, nudging me with his elbow. He stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth and chewed. Otto had better manners, and that wasn’t saying much.
“Hey, beautiful.” Gage leaned forward to grin at Tiff. Alisa glanced up with a sultry smile. Her face reddened and she scowled when she realized he wasn’t talking to her.
“Hi, Gage.” Tiff rolled her eyes.
“Hey, bud.” Gage nodded at Wayne. He didn’t say a word to Alisa, which was odd. Gage went out of his way to stay friends with all his former hookups. Why not Alisa? I rubbed my chin. There was more going on than either of them would admit.
Tiff caught my eye and cocked a brow. She’d noticed, too. Alisa held a phone to her ear, but I never heard it ring or saw it light up.
“Gotta take this. I’ll meet you at the stadium.” She flounced off, deep in her imaginary conversation.
“What’s her problem?” Gage grumbled.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You were rude to her.”
He scowled at me. “No, I wasn’t.”
I didn’t feel like arguing, so I dropped it. He could do as he pleased, and I had better things to concentrate on than Gage and Alisa’s weird relationship.
I finished the last of my breakfast and checked the time on my phone. “I probably should be going.”
Gage stood, having already wolfed down his breakfast.
I bent down and kissed Tiff, ignoring the catcalls to get a room. “See you after the game.”
Tiff smiled up at me. If nothing else went right, that smile made my day. I waved at her friends and hurried to join Gage, who was now standing impatiently near the exit door.
* Tiff *
I used to love football. My dad never had a son, and I was daddy’s girl. We watched tons of games together, discussed strategies and players, and attended almost every home Seattle Steelheads game.
After the shooting, I equated football with Jacob. It somewhat ruined the game for me. I quit attending the pro games with my dad, insisting the noise was too much.
My mom and dad didn’t know about Jacob until after the shooting. My dad wouldn’t have allowed me to date a senior when I was only a freshman. Jacob and I had sneaked around a lot. I still thought back on those times with shame.
All that and more came out after the shooting. It was perfect storm of events leading up to that fatal day. I’d broken it off with Jacob a few days prior. He’d been kicked off the football team for partying. His parents took away his car and threatened to send him to a military school. His best friend was dealing with a similar set of circumstances and also flunking out of school.
Afterward, I’d had to look my father in the eyes and tell him his little girl had been sneaking around with a senior, and I was one of the catalysts for the shooting. He’d stared at me, disappointment clouding his expression, and said nothing. His silence was worse than any ranting or lecturing.
My mother, on the other hand, was too busy doing damage control, fearing her friends would ostracize her. My dad worked longer and longer hours. Some nights he didn’t come home at all. I retreated into myself, barely speaking and spending all my spare time at the barn with my horse. Those had been dark times as we struggled to deal with the tragedy. I’d lost my three best friends and fellow cheerleaders. We’d been close ever since grade school.
Nothing was the same after that. Eventually, I healed enough to be reasonably functional, thanks in part to Riley.
And here we were. Quickly approaching the seven-year anniversary of the shooting. I was back in Seattle, mere miles from the scene of the tragedy with the one guy who reminded me of all of it through no fault of his own. I’d given him one date, and the next thing I knew I was wearing his jersey to a football game. Even more surprising, I wanted to wear it.
Thanks to Alisa’s total lack of scruples, we settled into prime seats twenty rows up behind the home bench on the fifty-yard-line. Alisa didn’t believe in going to the back of the line. She weaseled her way right to the front, ignoring the annoyed glares and muttered remarks. Wayne and I refused to cut in line so we’d gone to the end like good little soldiers. An hour later, we found Alisa and the two seats she’d saved for us along with two frat brothers who were vying for her attention. We were definitely in Greek territory and surrounded by drunken fraternity brothers and sorority sisters on all sides. The game hadn’t even started when one of the jerks spilled Coke on my back. I could smell alcohol, too.
I turned and glared at the offender, who just grinned at me and shrugged. “Sorry,” he said lamely. “Want a shot?” He pulled a flask from under his shirt.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I groaned at the prissy sound of my voice. I did need to loosen up. I turned back to him. “I’ll take some.”
He took my cup, poured a liberal amount into it, and handed it back to me.
“He’s in our fraternity, you know.” He gestured toward the number on the back of my jersey.
“Riley is?”
“Yeah. Ry-man. Great guy. Haven’t seen much of him lately, though. He’s not into the party scene.”
That was good to hear, though not surprising. Riley had never bee
n much of a partier in high school, either.
“I’m Colin.” He held out his free hand. “And who might you be, beautiful?”
“I might be Riley’s girlfriend,” I shot back, but softened my words with a smile. I wasn’t really his girlfriend, but saying so would deflect any unwanted attention.
His buddies elbowed him and laughed. “Give it up, man. He’s a lot bigger than you. I wouldn’t mess with her,” one of them said.
Colin sighed. “Lucky guy.”
“Damn right,” I said, drawing a laugh from the group.
A roar reverberated from the crowd, signaling the team coming out of the tunnel. I whipped around to face forward, the frat guys all but forgotten. Gage led the pack, sprinting into the October sunlight. Riley ran a few steps behind him. I dug in my pocket for my phone and got off a few shots. I didn’t have any current pictures of Riley. These would be my first ones in years.
Riley’s long legs pumped powerfully as he ran onto the field toward the bench. My God, he was fine, all tall and lean and muscled. And those shoulders. I was a sucker for those broad shoulders.
“Your tongue is hanging out,” Wayne teased, and elbowed me, pointing to Alisa. “A lot like hers is.”
I didn’t take my eyes off Riley. I couldn’t. He was so hot, so very hot. He’d come to a stop near the bench, helmet in hand, his slightly curly hair mussed. Manly scruff darkened his strong jaw and chiseled chin. He had to be the hottest player in the stadium. Hell, in the entire conference.
He lifted a water bottle to his lips and took big gulps, then jogged to his place on the field for warm-ups. The muscles in his arms flexed as he dropped to the ground and did five push-ups, leaped to his feet, and ran, repeating the exercise multiple times. He didn’t even break a sweat, but I did.
I wiped my brow with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“Are you getting hot?” Wayne asked, his meaning clear.
I ignored him, expecting Alisa to join in on the teasing. When she didn’t I glanced at her. Talk about drooling. Her eyes were glued to the field and a certain player. I’d never seen her like this, and the way they’d ignored each other at breakfast had been nothing short of odd. Gage and Alisa were unrepentant flirts. I’d never seen Alisa pass up an opportunity to come on to a guy she was obviously interested in. This had to be new territory for her. I’d been so wrapped up in the changes going on in my life, I’d never considered Alisa might be going through shit, too.
As close as we were, I doubted she’d tell me, if she even knew herself. If I had to venture a guess, I’d bet this was her first time wanting and not having; probably Gage’s, too.
I almost smiled.
I looked down at my number 85 jersey, which I’d put on over my sweatshirt. I still swam in it, but I didn’t care. It had been Riley’s, and I’d taken it from his closet. I’d only worn one other guy’s jersey on game day, and things couldn’t be more different. That had been puppy love. My first love, but not really love, more like infatuation and teenage lust. What I felt for Riley seemed more real, more stable, even if there were moments when I looked at him and saw his face on that day.
I could get beyond it. I had to.
Riley played like a madman. He was everywhere on that field. He overwhelmed their defensive end, cutting off his every attempt to get to Gage. He opened big holes for Mason when he could. He ran up the middle and caught four passes, just missing one in the end because Gage overthrew him.
Unfortunately, luck didn’t go our way, and the Chinooks lost fourteen to twenty-one on a Hail Mary pass to UCLA’s star wide receiver in the last ten seconds of the game.
We stayed in our seats, waiting for the crowd to dissipate. I was meeting Riley outside the locker room, so no hurry. He’d be a while.
Wayne stood and stared down at both of us. “If you ladies would excuse me, I have a party to go to.”
“A party?”
Wayne averted his eyes, but not before I caught his grin. “Yeah, a party. I’m meeting someone after the game.”
Alisa snapped to attention. “Someone?”
Wayne’s face flushed. “Uh, yeah, I’ll tell you all about it later.” Before we could interrogate him any further, he pushed through the crowd and disappeared.
“Interesting,” Alisa said, and turned to me. “What are you doing after the game?”
“Meeting Riley.”
“Oh.” Her despondent tone was completely out of character. She always had stuff lined up, usually multiple parties and dates, just so she could pick and choose.
“You can go with us.”
She perked up. “I can?”
“Sure. He said the team often gets pizza. Toriano’s has a back room with pool tables and stuff. They like to go there.”
“Does Gage go?”
“I don’t know. This’ll be my first time.” I started to ask her what the deal was between Gage and her, but something in her expression kept me quiet.
“Tiff, do you realize you made it through the entire game and never once got claustrophobic or panicky?”
She was right. I hadn’t even thought about having issues. I’d been so proud to wear his jersey and so thrilled to watch him play, being panicked in a crowd never occurred to me.
“You were too busy watching Riley and rooting for the team.”
“I did scream my lungs out,” I admitted, pondering what all this meant.
“You’re healing, Tiff. And Riley’s been good for you, not the opposite.”
He was good for me, and that revelation surprised me more than anything.
* Riley *
The next morning, I walked into the dining room. Yawning. I scratched my bare chest and stretched.
Gage glanced up from his heaping plate of bacon and eggs. “You’re up early,” he noted. He craned his neck to see behind me. “And alone.”
“Yeah.”
“Tiff didn’t stay the night?”
I didn’t want to have this conversation, but once Gage started down a certain path, he refused let it go. “No, we’re not having sex.” I mumbled the last few words, hoping he’d miss them.
“Why the fuck not? You were all over each other on the couch last night.”
“Because, fuckhead, when we finally do, I don’t want it to be fucking or having sex. I want her to be able to say I love you, like I’ve said to her.”
Gage gaped at me as if I’d just been beamed down from an alien starship. “You aren’t sleeping with her until she says I love you? Ry, you’re such a girl. Are you fucking crazy?” His expression was incredulous.
“When you put it that way, I guess I am a girl.” Nothing he said could take away the joy of being with Tiff every day, even if it had been less than a week.
“You’re fucking phenomenally stupid. What guy doesn’t take what he can get?”
Obviously, this guy. “I want her to know she’s special.”
Gage rolled his eyes. “I’m taking away your man card.”
“Whatever. Take it. Tiff and I are in it for the long haul.”
“Well, you are. Not sure about her,” Gage said.
I bristled, annoyed by his lack of faith and even more disturbed by the doubt creeping under my resolve. “Tiff loves me. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
Gage gagged. “You really are a girl.”
“Yeah, what about you? You’ve got some weird thing going on with Alisa.”
“I only fucked Alisa once. I don’t do repeats.”
I arched a brow at him.
“Anymore.” He amended his statement.
“Then why are you two dancing around each other like a couple of junior high kids?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He slammed his coffee mug on the table with a resounding thud that woke Otto from his sound sleep. Casting an irritated glance our way, Otto muttered some dog curses under his breath and stalked from the room.
“You’re a flirt. She’s a flirt. But neither of you is flirting with the other,” I said.
“That’s never stopped you before. Crazy Callie, remember her? You flirted with her right up until her arrest.”
“I didn’t want her pull out a gun and blow us all away before the cops arrived.”
I staggered back a step or two, feeling as if I’d been punched in the gut.
“Hey, sorry, that was a dickhead thing to say.” Gage’s face was stricken and his tone more than apologetic. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned.
“It’s all right.” I shrugged it off.
“I’m a fucking idiot. Seriously, Ry. It’s not all right. Not after what you saw. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Now who’s being the girl?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Hey, we’ll both have to give up our man cards if this shit gets out.”
“Not gonna happen. I won’t tell if you won’t.”
We grinned at each other. I snagged a piece of toast off his plate and headed for the door. A second later a hunk of greasy bacon pinged me in the head.
Chapter 13—Sappy Love Songs
* Riley *
I was winning, or at least, I believed I was. In two short weeks, Tiff and I were an item. Her brown eyes softened and her full lips parted in silent greeting whenever she saw me. When she gave my hand a simple squeeze, I wanted to sing sappy love songs or recite even sappier poetry. I was that gone.
We’d fallen into a routine. I walked her to class in the morning. As soon as practice was over, I fed Otto and traversed the forty feet from my house to hers. We’d dig up something to eat and study for a while with Otto supervising. Later, we’d make out in her room or on the porch before I reluctantly headed home.
Sacked in Seattle: Game On in Seattle Rookies (Men of Tyee Book 1) Page 10