He hung up and went back to staring at the TV. He checked his watch again; eight o’clock. His thoughts again turned to Reye. Wonder what she was doing? He’d looked forward to spending the evening with her after the game. The play between them earlier had been foreplay for him, and he’d planned to finish by making love to her this evening. He should call her. He was equal parts sexually frustrated and angry at himself. He was also angry at Joe, who’d reminded him why dating Reye would be difficult.
* * *
Reye woke up, stretched out on the couch. It had to be around eleven, judging by what was on TV. She needed to go to bed or she wouldn’t be able to get up in the morning. She checked her telephone, no calls from Stephen. She missed him. He’d somehow gotten under her skin in a relatively short amount of time. She wondered what he was doing, and, before she could talk herself out of it, she picked up the phone and called him. He answered on the second ring.
“Hey, it’s me. I was just calling to see how you were. I hadn’t heard from you.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I didn’t feel like company after the game, so I came home. I started in on some homework and got a bit sidetracked.”
“No worries, then. I won’t keep you,” she said trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Well, call me if you have some time this week and you want to get together.”
“Okay, I will,” he said.
“Bye.”
“See ya.”
Reye hung up and continued to lie on the couch, trying not to feel sorry for her lovesick self.
* * *
She left the center midweek and got into her truck and sat there. She needed someone to talk to. Sam was always a good listener when she needed to talk, so she called him.
“Hey, baby girl.” The sound of his voice was a comfort to her. He had always been there, would be there for her, warts and all. Sure, he got on her nerves sometimes, but today she was glad he was her brother.
She couldn’t get any words past the lump in her throat.
“Is something on your mind?” he asked. He knew Reye, and he could tell by the sound of her voice when something was up.
“You remember me talking about Stephen?”
“Mr. Defender?”
“Yes. After our last game he had an argument with one of his teammates about me, the same frat brother from the party. I don’t think it went well, and, anyway, I haven’t heard from him since.”
“I thought you two were going at it pretty heavy.”
“That was before his anti-race-mixing friend gave him a hard time about me again. I think he blames himself for their team losing the game to us.” She paused. “Why do you think he’s interested in me?”
Sam could hear sadness and maybe the onset of tears in her voice. “Ah, Reye, take it easy on yourself. Stephen is a big boy and I can’t believe he let little ol’ you take him off his game if he didn’t want you to. You are a beautiful, kind girl. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Come on, now, don’t worry.”
“Why haven’t I heard from him, then?”
“Have you called him?”
“Yes, later on that night. He said he was tired and so I didn’t push. I guess I’ll see him at the game on Saturday if he doesn’t call before then.”
“Try not to worry about it. You know I can knock him down at the game and you can accidentally run him over.”
“Thanks, Sam,” she said, laughing a little at his comments. “See you Saturday.”
* * *
It was two in the morning Thursday night, or rather Friday morning, and Stephen had been stuck in the library conference room with three of his fellow law classmates, preparing a case study for a presentation before his professor tomorrow. It was grueling work, and he wanted to be anywhere but here. Taking a break, he went in search of a soda, locating one in the vending machine located on another floor. He wondered what Reye was up to, remembering the past couple of weeks spent in her bed. He’d missed her and should have called her on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday. The longer he waited the more like a jerk he felt. Maybe he could talk to her on Saturday at the game.
* * *
It had taken forever for this day to come, Reye thought, as she pulled up to the field for the final game between her team and Stephen’s. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him for a week. She was beyond hurt now; really, who was she kidding? She was still hurt, but now she was really, really angry. He could have called her, could have at least had the balls to tell her it was over.
She had come to the game prepared to bring it, and she hoped he would be the one to defend against her. All of the players from her team had arrived. She didn’t know if Stephen or his team were here, because she refused to look over to the other side of the field. Sam had discussed the team’s strategy with them yesterday and she knew she would play in the midfield instead of as a striker or forward. He felt that Stephen’s team would expect them to employ the same strategy they had for the previous two games, but she thought Sam was just looking out for her, keeping her away from Stephen. They would move her to the forward position only if they needed her, and only in the second half.
Today Reye would play midfield at least during the first half, far away from Stephen. He was in his usual position as defender, and he was a really good one. She’d hoped to avoid him for the entire game and leave immediately after it ended.
* * *
Stephen was one of the first to arrive at the field, ready to play. This had been a long week for him, long in school and long in guilt. He wanted, needed, to apologize to Reye. Maybe he could talk her into hanging out with him after the game. He’d missed her more this week than he thought he would. He’d seen her arrive, but he hadn’t been able to get her attention. She hadn’t so much as glanced over at his side. He and his teammates were warming up on one half of the field while Reye’s team took the other half. Maybe he could talk to her during warm-ups, before the game began. The opportunity came as a ball was kicked to Reye and it went over her head and rolled toward him.
“Reye.”
She looked up, eyes unreadable. No smile, no emotion. She just scooped up the loose ball, turned, and walked away from him.
Stephen was surprised. He’d expected her to be angry, but he’d thought she’d at least talk to him. Henri, who had watched the exchange, walked over to him.
“Ouch,” he said with a chuckle.
“What did I do?” Stephen asked, turning to Henri.
“Dude, you don’t know? Really?” Henri shook his head sadly. “Well, you two were going at it pretty strong, and then you stopped. Did you ever call her?” Watching Stephen shake his head no, he continued. “Well, it’s been my experience that women usually take exception to that sort of behavior.”
Stephen shot him an evil look.
“I’m just saying,” said Henri, backing up with his hands raised. “Don’t forget we’ve got a game to play today,” he added.
Stephen shot him the middle finger and strode over to get into position on the field.
The referees had arrived and both teams were lined up on the field, ready to play. The whistle blew and the game began. It was evident as both teams attacked the ball that they had come ready to play. Both sides ran fast, determined to be first to the ball. In one play, the ball was kicked to the space in front of Reye. She ran to gain control of the ball, and so did the opposing player. They collided, a solid hit that had both falling to the ground. They were up and on their feet immediately, running toward the ball again. Reye got there first, gained control of the ball and passed it off to the forward in front of her. Stephen met the forward, and not only took the ball from her, but began to move it down the field toward the goal, intent on scoring. As a midfielder, Reye stood between him and her defender. Running forward to meet him, her eyes on the ball, she kicked it away from him and sent it over to Sam. Her momentum carried her and she crashed hard into Stephen. They fell. He gave her a sharp look as they both stood up, but neither of them spoke.
&n
bsp; Today she played harder than usual. When Stephen came near her, she did her best to prevent him from moving the ball, either by leaning into him hard or running to position herself in front of him, stopping his momentum. He was fast, but so was she. In an all-out foot race, she probably couldn’t beat him, but it was easier for her to keep up when he had to both maneuver the ball and run. He began to respond to her physical play and she noticed a marked increase in his intensity. The intensity of both teams increased. Both teams played tough, physical ball. The first half came to a close with the score tied at zero.
Both teams huddled to re-evaluate strategy. Stephen would continue to defend, and take any opportunity to score. Henri turned to him and laughed.
“I have to give her credit, she is one tough soccer player. You must have really pissed her off,” Henri said. Stephen didn’t respond, he just walked away to sit on the bench for a while by himself. He needed to rehydrate before the second half, and he also needed some time alone. Henri was right, of course, she was a very good soccer player, and he hadn’t seen this level of play from her during their previous matches. He loved watching her play and playing against her.
On the other side of the field, Sam had decided to move Reye to the forward position. Their team wasn’t getting anywhere near close to scoring with her in the midfield. She would be once again paired against Stephen. Keep focus, Reye, she thought. Her anger at the beginning of the game had dimmed somewhat. It had dissipated as she continued to glance over at him. Always the golden one, with a body and face that could make her melt. Get a grip, Reye, we‘ve got a game to win, she thought to herself. Remember, he dissed you.
The second half started with Reye receiving the ball several times, resulting in two shots on goal, both misses. She was trying to shoot from ten yards back, reducing her ability to take a good shot, but she hadn’t wanted to get any closer, didn’t want to directly encounter Stephen. But in order to get off a more direct shot, avoiding Stephen would have to end. So, during the next play she received the ball and ran forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she tracked him as he approached her. She faked right and kicked the ball to her left in an attempt to get around him. It didn’t work.
“Is that the best you can do?” he said as he kicked the ball out of bounds. She ignored him and waited to receive the ball again. This time, she ran with the ball right towards him, a full-out sprint, hoping at the last minute to pass the ball off to the other forward. Stephen didn’t move and neither did she, so again, they collided and both fell hard to the ground, she landing on top.
“Are you okay?” she asked sarcastically, lifting herself off of him as she extended her hand to help him up.
“No problem,” he said back, as he accepted her help. The game remained tied at zero until the end, with neither she nor Stephen surrendering any ground.
The final game required a winner, so foregoing overtime, they moved straight to a penalty shootout to decide the outcome. A shootout usually called for five players on each side to take alternating kicks at the opposing team’s goalie. Reye hated penalty shootouts. It had never seemed fair to her that this part of the game should rest on the goalie’s shoulders alone.
Five members of both teams lined up to take their shots. Stephen’s team selected all men, while she was the only woman included with Sam and three of her other teammates. Stephen’s team did not miss on shot, while Matt missed for their team. They lost, and you could hear Stephen’s team’s jubilation in their shouts and screams.
Sweaty from a tough and tightly played game, both teams shook hands and congratulated each other. Henri walked over to Reye.
“You are a really good soccer player. I enjoyed watching you play. I’m surprised you aren’t playing college ball,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said as she shrugged her shoulders. “Too big of a commitment for me. You were good, too.”
“Thanks. Are you going to The Garden for drinks?” Henri asked.
“Don’t know.” She felt rather than saw Stephen approach to stand at her shoulder.
Henri looked between the both of them. “I was just telling Reye what a good player she is,” Henri said to his teammate.
“I agree. I hadn’t seen you play like that before,” he said to Reye.
“Thanks, Henri. Good seeing you again,” Reye said. She ignored Stephen as she turned and walked over to her team’s bench.
Henri looked over at Stephen, fighting not to laugh but falling short. “Dude, that is one pissed off woman.” He turned and walked away, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. “Good luck,” he called over his shoulder. “See you at The Garden.”
Stephen turned toward Reye’s team’s bench and watched her as she changed out of her soccer shoes. His eye caught hers, but again, she gave nothing away. No smile, no nothing. Talk about stubborn. Disappointed at her response, he turned and walked to his car. Hopefully she would be at The Garden; if not, he would drive by her house later. He would see her again.
* * *
Reye hadn’t planned on going to The Garden after the game, but somehow here she sat outside the building, trying to talk herself out of going in. She gave up, opened the truck door, and got out. Both teams were there, but they sat in different sections of the restaurant, Stephen’s toward the front and Reye’s in the back. She took a seat next to Sam. Taking a menu from the stack, she searched intently for something to eat, although she always ate the same entrée, grilled chicken sandwich with a side of fries. Sam turned to her. “Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied.
“You tell me. And, by the way, you played a really great game today. I haven’t seen you play that well since high school.”
“Well, thank you, big brother,” she said with a smile.
“You know, someone else noticed your play today, too.” Reye just stared at him and he continued. “I saw him watching you when you weren’t looking.”
“Yeah? What’s your point?”
“Hey, don’t pretend with me. I listened to you the other night on the phone, remember?”
“Yeah, I do, but I’m over it. Why would I bother with him again?”
“Because you like him, maybe,” Sam replied. Reye gave him a hard look.
“How about we change the subject?” Sam said.
* * *
Reye had consumed three beers and needed to find the ladies’ room fast. The beers had helped her relax and she was feeling loose. She stood up and excused herself to go the restroom. Stephen had been watching for an opportunity to talk with her alone. This looked like his chance, so, excusing himself under the guise of going to the bathroom, he followed her down the hall.
The bathrooms were located in the back of the building, past the takeout window and down a short hallway, women on the right, and men to the left. Next to the men’s room was a small door that Stephen opened. He was looking for somewhere private to talk to her. This would do; it was a small storage closet, more like a pantry, as it was filled ceiling to floor with paper products. He stood next to the ladies’ bathroom door and waited for her.
Why are you still here, she asked herself in the mirror. What were you expecting? She threw the paper towels into the trash and opened the restroom door, stopping in her tracks as Stephen stood before her. Her mouth opened and closed as he continued to look at her.
“Hey, will you give me a second?”
“Maybe another time, okay?” she said. She tried to move past him, but he blocked her path.
“Look, I’d rather not share my business in the middle of the hallway, if that’s okay with you,” she spat out. Talk about nerve, she thought. Stephen grabbed her hand and hauled her into the storage closet, locking the door behind him.
“What are you doing? Let go of me.”
“Wait, Reye, listen to me. I just want to apologize.”
“Okay, is that it? Apology accepted, now can I go?”
“No, I want to see you again.”
“People in hell
want ice water.”
“I missed you.”
“Yeah? I could really tell. All those phone calls I received from you this week. Is that how much you missed me?” Her tone held both bite and hurt.
Not wanting her to leave, but not wanting to argue with her anymore, either, he slowly pulled her to him, giving her time to stop him if she wanted. She pulled in the other direction at first, but he persisted and she ended up standing in front of him. He lowered his face and touched his lips to hers, softly at first.
“I’m sorry,” he said and kissed her again. She opened her mouth for him and it was all the consent he needed. He had been hungry for her all week, and only one thought remained in his head, the one pressing him to be inside of her, now. Breaking the kiss, he walked her backward across the small space until her back hit the wall. His lips returned to hers for another open-mouthed kiss, delighting in its warmth and wetness. Pulling at her shirt, he lifted it up to allow his hands entry underneath. They moved over and up her flat stomach to capture each of her breasts in a strong grip. She moaned loudly into his mouth making him harder. He was all need, continuing to feast on her mouth before lifting her shirt and her bra to feast on her breasts. Gone was gentleness, replaced by aggression and immediate need. He found her mouth again, accepting her moans and pleas, his favorite sound, kissing her again and again. He stopped abruptly and pushed her shorts and underwear down, only taking the time to remove them from one leg. He was impatient to gain access. He wrapped one of her legs around his hip and pulled the front of his shorts down enough to free himself. He lifted Reye’s other leg and put it around his other hip, leaning into her so he could feel her skin next to his.
He returned to kissing her mouth, his hands traveling around his back to make sure her legs were anchored to him. She would need to be as he pushed up and into her, hard, whispering her name reverently. She felt so good surrounding him. He started to fuck her, hard strokes in and out of her body, aware of only two spots on her body, two openings from which he fed. Holding on to her tightly, he began to lift her up and down, coordinating with his thrusts, pressing harder and harder into her. He couldn’t get close enough. Feeling her climax building, he swallowed the sounds that spilled from her mouth and moved his hips into another gear, pumping faster, furiously seeking his climax. Capturing her breasts tightly, he continued to pump hard and steadily into her. Her orgasm hit her, threatening to push him over. Please, not yet, he thought. “Fuck,” he said over and over again, in time with the thrust of his hips.
Reye's Gold (Indigo) Page 9