The Fadeaway: A Smart Jocks Novel

by Jenshak, Rebecca

  “Take my phone,” I plead with Blair and shove it in her direction. “I never understood drunk texting until now and I’m pretty sure I’m close to making a total ass of myself.”

  Vanessa snatches it from Blair and her thumbs tap on the screen. “I’ve got this.”

  “What are you saying?”

  She giggles and turns the phone toward me.

  Me: I want your P in my V.

  “Oh my God, Vanessa.”

  My phone beeps.

  Joel: Be there in five.

  My face warms and I press my palms to my cheeks.

  “I’m effective, what can I say?” Vanessa boasts.

  “Aww, I’m jealous,” Gabby says. “I want a boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Blair laughs. “I think I said that exact same thing when Wes and I started hanging out.”

  “I can confirm that,” Vanessa offers.

  Gabby flings her arm up, wine cup in hand, splashing the sticky sweet liquid into the air. “I ship you. All of you.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask as I dab at the wine on my leggings.

  “It means I support your relationships. I love how happy all of you are and I want you to go to your sexy boyfriends and get it on.”

  “I thought we were having a slumber party?” Blair asks, but I can tell she’s all for the idea of going to Wes.

  “I’m exhausted and tomorrow I need to go try and find a job.” She scrunches up her face but then smiles. “Besides now that I’m here we can hang out all the time.”

  “I ship you,” I tell her, wrap my arms around her waist and squeeze hard. I haven’t had real girlfriends in a long time, and it feels so good.

  She laughs. “That’s not how the saying works.”

  * * *

  Joel

  Kitty is drunk. I assumed she was tipsy by the text message, but by the time I drop Vanessa off at Mario’s and get back to The White House with her and Blair, she’s alternating between fits of laughter and eye fucking me.

  Blair pushes out of the backseat before I’ve even killed the engine. “Thanks for the ride, Joel. Night, Katrina.”

  “Does your car have a name?” she asks as she runs a hand over the dash seductively.

  I’m fixated on her movements, curious as hell what drunk Kitty will do next.

  I unbuckle. “Nope.”

  “Say something in Spanish.” She claps her hands and I laugh at the random topic jump and her excitement.

  “Eres linda cuando estás borracha.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said you’re cute when you’re drunk.”

  Unbuckling, she turns to me. We’re still sitting in the car parked in the garage, but I’m afraid to move because once I get her to my room it’s likely she’s going to pass out on me. And this is way more entertaining.

  “Have you ever had sex in here?”

  “Uhh.” Is this a trick question? I’ve never lied to a girl, but I feel like being truthful here could put a serious damper on the mood.

  “You totally have,” she says, but she’s smiling so I don’t bother denying it. “I’ve never had sex in a car before.” She sighs like that’s disappointing to her.

  “¿Quieres tener sexo en mi carro?”

  “I don’t know what you said, but it sounded hot.”

  “Estás caliente, Katrina.”

  She bites her lip looking all unsure but somehow still seductive and I can’t fucking take it. “Come here, Kitty.”

  “Ask me in Spanish,” she says coyly.

  “Trae tu trasero aquí.”

  The seat’s already as far back as it’ll go so when she climbs onto my lap, straddling me, there’s not a lot of room. Not that I’m gonna need it. Just the feel of her on top of me has me ready to lose it. Her eyes flutter closed as my dick pushes against her pussy. God bless leggings. The thin material she wears on nearly a daily basis not only provides a view that keeps me from having to use my imagination, it allows me to feel the heat of her pussy and the soft curves of her legs and ass.

  “I probably should have taken my pants off first,” she says. “Not enough room over here to shimmy them down.”

  I capture her mouth and she rubs against me as I lift my hips to offer her more friction. Moving my hands to her hips and taking control, I slide her over the bulge in my pants. Slow and hard until her moans fill my car.

  Last time I dry humped someone I was probably in junior high, but damn it’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened in my car. In my… anything.

  Katrina arches her back and her blonde hair falls down her back. She palms both breasts, head thrown back, and she looks so fucking happy and sexy as she fucks me through our clothes.

  “Oh my God, I’m coming,” she says, eyes pop open and she looks stunned as the orgasm shudders through her.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something immature like You can just call me Joel, but I think better of it. Probably got enough seventh grade mojo up in here with the dry humping alone. I’m giving myself a mental high five for my maturity when Kitty’s orgasm sets me off and I come in my damn pants.

  33

  Katrina

  The better part of four days I’ve been holed up in Joel’s room. School, work, rehearsals, and Joel. If I weren’t missing Christian so much, it’d be bliss.

  I pull up to the soccer field, scan the cars, and then wave when I see Christian and Victor standing in front of Victor’s car.

  Christian’s smile tells me he wants to dart to me, but Victor restrains him by holding his hand.

  I hurry toward him and he pulls free from Victor and runs to meet me halfway.

  “Mommy!”

  Reaching down to him, I hug him fiercely feeling complete for the first time since I left him. “I missed you.”

  Victor approaches, hands in his pockets and looking like he feels like the third wheel.

  “Thank you for bringing him,” I say. “Practice is just an hour and I have rehearsal right after. Are you staying or do you want me to meet you somewhere before my rehearsal?”

  “About that.”

  The coach blows the whistle and Christian and the other kids run onto the field.

  I cross my arms, skin already bristling.

  “I got a job working nights loading trucks. I start tonight.”

  “You couldn’t have given me a heads up?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. What do you usually do with him when you have night classes?”

  “It’s not a class, it’s…” I count to three before I respond. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You’re still bringing him this weekend though, right?”

  I grind my teeth. “Yeah, it’s your weekend.”

  “Maybe we can sit down and talk, come up with a new schedule once I get my work schedule?”

  I can only nod. Speaking will result in me saying something I regret later. Or screaming in front of children and their perfect mothers.

  “Sorry, Katrina.”

  I hear the gravel crunch under his shoes signaling his departure. Pull out my phone and hover over the contacts. We’re less than a month away from opening night of the play and this is the last rehearsal where I can make any big dialogue or script changes.

  I could take him with me. Images of Christian tearing through the theater like a tornado make me cringe. That’s not an option.

  Me: I know it’s impossibly last minute but can one of you watch Christian tonight while I have play rehearsal.

  Blair: Shoot. I’m sorry, I’m working at the tutor center tonight.

  Gabby: I start my new job at The Hideout tonight.

  Vanessa: Class. Sorry!

  Blair: The guys just got out of practice, ask Joel

  Ugh. That sounds worse than letting Christian swing from the rafters. I pocket my phone and walk closer to the field. I’d planned on reading through the script during the practice
, but instead, I allow myself to just watch Christian. The big smile on his face, his carefree demeanor, the determination, and energy. In the worst of moments my son always reminds me that it’s all worth it. Juggling school and parenting and anything else life throws our way – we can do it. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I retrieve it quickly hoping one of the girls had a change of plans or heart.

  Joel: My dick is hard and confused because you’re not here, but my room smells like sex and Kitty. What time are you done with rehearsal?

  If I’d known I wasn’t going to be spending another night at his place, I would have entertained the morning sex he attempted at five. After only a few nights I’m already dreading sleeping without him.

  Me: Change of plans. Victor had a conflict and I’ve got Christian tonight and tomorrow.

  Joel: What about rehearsal?

  Me: I’m going to take him with me.

  Once I type the words, I feel better about my decision. Something about declaring it makes me accept it. It’s not the perfect scenario, but it is what it is. Joel doesn’t text back, and I return my focus to the practice and watching Christian race from one side of the field to the next. The hour flies by and when the coach dismisses them, I scoop up a dirty and sweaty little boy.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you,” I tell him. “But first you have to come with me to my play rehearsal and sit super still and be super quiet. Can you do that?”

  It’s more a plea to God than a real question for my son. But hey, ice cream is a small price to pay.

  I park the car in the lot next to the theater and hold on to Christian as he skips toward the front entrance. Inside he pulls free. My backpack slips off my shoulder and I stop and adjust before chasing after him.

  My mouth opens to call after him, but when I follow the path my son has taken, my eyes move up to the man he’s standing in front of. Christian bounces on the balls of his feet and Joel offers his fist, which Christian bumps with his own.

  “Mom, I found the surprise! Joel is here.”

  “This isn’t the surprise I had planned,” I tell him once I’ve closed the distance between us and look up to meet Joel’s smiling dark eyes. “But this is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”

  “Thought little man could use some company while you do your thing.”

  I mouth thank you and he gives me a devious grin. One that tells me he’s going to take his thanks in sexual favors. Fine by me.

  Tabitha and Brody are already on stage, scripts in hand.

  “I gotta get up there. Christian, listen to Joel.” I use my sternest voice that falls on deaf ears. Though, I think Christian is so enamored by Joel he’d do just about anything he said. “I’ll be up front if you guys need me.”

  “Actually, I was thinking I could take him to the house, play a little ball until you finish up.”

  Christian’s eyes light up giving me very little room to say no.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

  “Please, Mom?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Christian jumps and Joel catches him and tucks his little body under his arm, carrying him like a football.

  “Break a leg.” He starts toward the door taking my son and my heart all in one swift swoop.

  * * *

  Joel

  Christian talks a mile a minute as I carry him to my car. Chattering on about the basketball game he and his mom attended, asking if Ray Roadrunner will be at my house, and telling me how he hopes he grows up to be as tall as me. I’m opening the door for him when Kitty’s voice calls out, “Hey, wait up.”

  I turn to watch her jogging across the parking lot. Tits bouncing and hair swaying from side to side. I’m straight up addicted to this chick. I can’t get enough, which is the only explanation for me showing up here to babysit her kid.

  “He needs a car seat,” she says out of breath when she’s in front of us.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “I can give you the one from my car or…” The mischievous look on her face has my eyebrows shooting up.

  “You want to swap cars?”

  “It’s easier and faster than unhooking it from mine, dragging it over to yours…” She waves her hands around like moving the car seat is an all-day affair. I see past her thinly veiled logic. She bites her lip in an attempt to keep her hope and excitement from showing.

  I let out a breath, watching my sanity float away with it. “Fine. I’ll take your car.”

  “Yes!”

  She passes over her keys and I already regret this decision.

  “Be careful,” I warn.

  “Aww, worried about me?”

  “Worried about my car,” I mutter as Christian and I head to her car.

  When we get to The White House, I pull around back in the parking lot, spotting the guys shooting outside on the old hoop. Wes has a hard-on for the old rusted backboard and rim that was attached to an old telephone pole about a million years ago from the looks of it.

  They eye the car and me with amusement. It’s Christian’s excitement that forces me out of the car.

  “Nice ride,” Nathan calls.

  Z nudges him in the ribs. “You brought a ringer.”

  Christian grabs my hand. Such a simple thing that completely catches me off guard. I squeeze his hand gently. “You remember the guys?”

  He nods, but still holds back. Strange place, people he’s only seen once – yeah perhaps this wasn’t my most well thought out plan. Kneeling down, I meet his scared but curious expression. “Nervous?”

  Another nod.

  “I know these guys are kind of big and ugly,” I say loud enough the guys can hear. They scoff in mock outrage and Christian cracks a smile. “But they’re cool.”

  He looks them over and takes a tiny step forward.

  “What do you say we show these guys your mad ball skills again?” I pick him up and set him on my shoulders.

  Wes hands the ball up to Christian. “Go easy on us.”

  The guys are all good sports, rebounding the ball over and over for Christian and cheering him on shot after shot. At some point, Z takes Christian from me and shocks the crap out of all of us with how good he is with him. Christian beams, so much happiness radiating from the little guy. He and the big man team up against the rest of us, trash talking all the while, G-rated of course.

  This is fun. Feels good and right. Makes me picture a life with them. She handles it all so effortlessly and when I’m with them, I’m not wishing I were anywhere else. What would it be like if Katrina and Christian were a permanent part of my life? Shake my head and push the idea away. I can’t even entertain that. She deserves someone who can give everything and I just… can’t. I won’t. Not again.

  My thoughts are cut short when tires squeal and Katrina pulls into the driveway. Driving my car like she stole it.

  The guys chuckle.

  “Daaaamn. Can’t believe you let her drive your car,” Nathan says. “You’ve got it bad.”

  34

  Katrina

  Driving Joel’s car makes me feel powerful.

  Or maybe it’s a combination of events. Joel showing up for me, an amazing rehearsal, Joel letting me drive his car – which was almost as hot as actually driving it, and I just pulled up to the most amazing scene.

  Watching through the windshield, Zeke has Christian up on his shoulders and the rest of the guys appear to be trying to stop them, halfheartedly, from scoring. Honestly, I had no idea what Joel was going to do with Christian when he offered to bring him here. I hadn’t even thought it through, I was just so glad that he’d shown up at all.

  I’m in love with him. I don’t know when it happened exactly, but I finally admitted it to myself the minute I saw him tuck my son under his arm and stride away like it was the most natural thing.

  Zeke lifts Christian off his shoulders and sets him on the ground as I climb out of the car. He runs to me, hugs my legs, and then says damn like he’s trying out a
new word and wants to hear his own voice say something he’s heard. I arch a brow at Joel whose face goes panic-stricken. The guys laugh which only eggs Christian on.

  “Damn,” he says again.

  “Real nice, guys.”

  “My bad,” Nathan says as Joel punches him in the arm.

  I squat down to eye level. “That’s a grown-up word.”

  “Oh.” His eyes go big and round.

  I feel Joel next to me before he leans down. “Sorry, buddy. Nathan said a bad word, but he’s sorry. Right, Nathan?”

  I glance up to see Nathan standing there, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “Sorry about that, Katrina.” He looks to Christian. “Only dumb guys like me use that word. You’re too smart for that, right?” He offers his fist and Christian bumps it.

  Satisfied, Nathan walks away leaving me with Joel and Christian.

  “Sorry,” he says quietly, leaning in and kissing me softly on the lips.

  “I can’t even pretend to be mad. I’m still too amped up from driving your car. I may never give it back.”

  “Don’t even think about it, babydoll.”

  Christian pulls on both our arms and we swing him between us.

  “I should get him home. Thank you for this.”

  We shuffle awkwardly, neither of us walking away.

  “Are you coming over?” Christian asks, finally saying the thing I was too chicken shit to ask.

  One side of his mouth pulls up and he nods. “Yeah, if that’s cool with your mom.” Both turn to me like there’s any real question.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  A full-blown smile stretches out on his face. “I got practice in the morning and an away game this weekend so probably the last chance to hang for a few days. I just need to grab my stuff. I’ll be over in a few.”