by J. L. Beck
“Got it, Coach.”
“Here.” He hands me a sticky note. Library, room 202, Five o’clock. “Be there, Wilder,” he warns. “I mean business, don’t push me, boy. I’ll push back, and we both know you won’t like that. You can do this, you just need a little help, and there isn’t anything wrong with admitting that.”
“I’ll be there, and I’ll get my grades up. I promise,” I tell him, ’cause what the fuck else am I going to do? Tugging my phone out of my shorts, I check the time as I leave the coach’s office. I’ve got thirty minutes before I have to be at the library. There isn’t any point in driving home, so I drop my bag off at my car and grab my math books instead. That’s where I have the most issues anyway. I hate numbers. Nothing ever makes sense in my head.
Walking aimlessly with my books in my hand, I think about what my dad would say if he were to find out I’m failing a class. I can already see his fist coming toward my face. Not that he would really care about that per se. He would only care about me being benched, unable to play his beloved football.
My football career means everything to him. Much more than it does to me. Yes, it’s nice to be good at it, and believe me, I’m fucking good at it, but I’m just not as passionate about it as my father is. In fact, as the years have passed, my love for the sport has diminished every day. I’m living someone else’s dream, and I’m getting tired of it. I want to do what I want, live for what I want, and football just isn’t it.
I’m so inside my own head that I completely lose track of time. When I check my phone, I realize it’s already five.
Shit. I’m late.
I half sprint to the library. When I get there, I’m ten minutes late. My lungs burn and my muscles ache. I’m tired as fuck and would much rather be at home, but still, here I am. I made a promise to Coach, and I won’t let him down. Taking two steps at a time, I walk up the grand staircase to the second floor and easily find room 202. I’ve been up here before, but studying wasn’t what I was doing.
Opening the door, I get ready to deliver a quick apology to whatever nerd I’m about to meet. My lips part and my mouth opens, but instead of words, nothing comes out. It’s like someone has shoved cotton in my mouth.
On the other side of that door is the girl who made me the laughing stock of my friends. I’m a joke now. Every time someone sees me, they burst into laughter, remembering how I got a beer poured on my head at a party and turned down by a girl that they now call ice queen.
Blair Jensen.
She lifts her head, tossing mousy brown hair over her shoulder, and her big blue eyes flick to mine. I know the instant recognition takes place because her delicate facial features go from annoyed to angry as soon as she realizes who she is supposed to tutor.
“We meet again. Told you, you’d regret dumping a beer on my head.” I force a dimpled grin onto my face. She looks even more beautiful today than she did that night.
“Fancy seeing you here, nerdy virgin,” I teased.
“You’re late.” She points out the obvious, gritting her teeth, letting me know that my pet name for her is irritating.
Using her index finger, she pushes her black-rimmed glasses up her button nose. I stare, studying her for a long moment. The first time we met was outside, in the dimly lit backyard of the frat house. I could barely see her face, but I could make out the outline of her body just fine, and that’s what initially drew me in. She was hiding something beneath that thick sweatshirt. It was nothing special, nothing like the dresses, skirts, and clothes the other girls wore, and I think that’s what captured my attention and continues to because she’s nothing like what I expected her to be.
The bright overhead lights make it easy for me to drink her in. I can really see her now—see the creamy smooth skin of her blemish-free heart-shaped face.
She isn’t wearing a drop of makeup, she’s pure, clean, radiant. Her pink lips form into the perfect pout without an ounce of effort. Fuck me. Too bad she hates my guts. I’m not one-hundred-percent certain she hates them, but it’s close enough.
Fuck, something inside me wants to reach out to her, grab her and shake her. I wonder if she realizes how attractive she is. My guess is no, but I kind of want to be the guy to show her how beautiful she is. Too bad, she’d rather stab me in the eye with a fork.
“Sorry,” I mumble and head to the other side of the table. I don’t apologize often, but I do today because I really need her help. “Really, I’m sorry. I was on my way over and…”
“No, you’re not,” she snaps, shutting the book in front of her and interrupting me before I can finish what I wanted to say.
“Yes, I really am. I didn’t mean to be late, in fact, I was just outside the library,” I growl.
These last two weeks have been a bitch, and partly because of the dark temptress in front of me. Without looking at me, she starts packing up her stuff, shoving her books in her backpack like she has someplace to be. Panic starts to rise up inside of me. Shit!
Is she leaving?
“What are you doing?” I ask, gripping the edge of the table to center myself.
“I’m leaving,” she huffs, tossing her brown locks over her shoulder.
“But I’m here now. We still have like an hour to study.”
“Good for you, but late is late, and I don’t work with people that don’t take my time seriously,” she scolds, and suddenly, it feels like I’m a child all over again, being reprimanded for something that I did but didn’t do good enough.
“Jesus, do you have to be such a bitch all the time?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I’m many things, but I do my best not to be an asshole. The night we first met, I was simply poking fun, not trying to hurt her feelings, but obviously, I poked deeper than I realized.
She pauses briefly, just long enough to give me a death glare, before tossing her bag over her shoulder. “Maybe next time, you’ll be less of an asshole and get here on time, and then I won’t be such a bitch.”
And with that, she storms out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Fuck my life.
I briefly entertain the thought of running after her, girls love that kind of shit. Well, normal girls. Of course, Blair is nothing like the girls I usually deal with. So, I haven’t the faintest clue about how to handle her. If I chase after her, she’d probably call campus police, and then I’d have a whole other can of worms to deal with, and damn it, I do not need any more attention put on me.
Shaking my head, I leave the room and head to the parking lot.
“Hey, you!” a girl calls, rushing across the parking lot and straight for me.
“Uh, hi!” I scratch at the back of my head, unsure of who she is. She’s a blonde with a huge rack. Most likely, someone I’ve slept with.
A frown appears on her lips. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
I shake my head and force a grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t.”
“Maybe we can get reacquainted?” She wiggles her eyebrows and takes a step forward, placing her hand on my chest. I look down at her hand. For the first time in a long time, I’m not in the mood to screw someone.
“I’ll take a rain check, got shit to do,” I say, taking a step back. Her hand drops back down to her side, and she looks up at me, confused.
“She broke you. Ice queen broke you.”
Here we go again.
“No one broke me. Is it that impossible to think that I don’t want to fuck you?”
Okay, that was harsh, but I’m done with the taunting. I need to find a way to get even with Blair, even more so now than ever before.
“Whatever,” the girl huffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s your loss anyway.”
“Sure,” I mumble under my breath and climb into my truck.
I’m just going to forget this whole day ever happened and start over tomorrow, that’s the best thing to do. The drive home seems to take forever, and when I pull into the condo I sh
are with Murphy, I find a bunch of cars parked out on the street, letting me know that half of the team is here, probably already drunk.
This day just keeps getting better and better.
As expected, I walk in to find five of my friends and teammates already three sheets to the wind. Normally, I don’t drink on the weekdays because of practice and grades, but today I need a fucking beer. I need something to wash away the memory of my mistakes, and the nerdy virgin.
“There you are! What did Coach want?” Murphy questions just as I step over the threshold.
“I need a drink first.” I drop my bags next to the door on my way to the kitchen.
“Fine, meet in the living room,” Murphy gives me a chin nod, “I need to hear all the juicy details.” He rubs his hands together. Rolling my eyes, I walk into the kitchen and grab a beer from the fridge before joining the others in the living room.
My ass has barely hit the leather couch before I start talking. “Short story. My grades are shit. He set me up with a tutor. I went to the library to meet them and guess who is supposed to tutor me?” A lazy grin appears on my lips.
“Please tell me it’s the nerd from the party.” Murphy beams. “Please…”
“Yup, it’s her, all right.” The whole room erupts into laughter. The only one not joining in is me. I don’t feel like cracking so much as a smile.
“Oh no, did she ice you again?” Daniels yells.
“Cage Wilder finally found his match. The one girl he can’t have,” Ian taunts.
“I could have her if I wanted to.” I crack open my beer and take a drink.
“So you keep saying, but I doubt that. There is no way you can get this girl on team Wilder.” I know he’s drunk and is only trying to fuck with me, but I’ve had enough of people telling me what I can and can’t do today. I want to do something for myself.
Lifting a thick brow, I pin him with a glare. “Want to bet on that?”
Murphy rubs at his chin and looks between us before turning back to me. “I tell you what, Wilder. If you can get that ice queen to fall for you, we will never talk about the beer incident again, and of course, more importantly, you’ll get bragging rights.”
A full fucking grin appears on my lips.
“Consider it done. I’ll have her wrapped around my little finger before you know it. You just wait. Watch and learn, boys.” I chug the rest of my beer and crush the can in my hand.
Blair Jensen is mine.
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3
Blair
I always thought being invisible sucked. All my life I’ve been the odd one out. I never really had many friends, and most people usually ignored me. I decided long ago that having my nose stuck in a book was much more fun than dealing with other people’s drama.
It did, however, leave me lonely, especially when it came to college. Still, I wish now more than ever, that people would just forget about me. That I could go back to being just another girl on campus. Ever since the party, people have been staring at me everywhere I go, whispering when I pass by. Laughing and smiling as if there is some inside joke that I’m not a part of.
“That’s her. She poured the beer on Cage.”
“I heard she’s a bitch, a cold-hearted one.”
“The only girl to ever turn him down.”
The whispers spread like wildfire and are all I can hear as I move between classes. In the last two weeks, all I could hope for was the ground to swallow me whole, and that everyone would forget me.
It seems fate had other plans because Cage arrived at the library as the new student I would be tutoring. Well, I would’ve been tutoring him had he shown up on time. I don’t work with people that can’t keep an appointment.
I bet he was late because he was screwing some chick.
I shake the thought away. I don’t really care what he was doing. All I care about is the fact that he was late and that he wasted my time. By the time I get back to my dorm, it’s eight. Getting dinner took way longer than I intended.
Tossing my backpack to the floor, I fall onto the bed. I stare up at the ceiling, the silence within the room drowning me. Alone. Forever alone. I suppose I should be grateful that I don’t have to share a space with anyone yet. Things could be worse.
Placing my hands on my stomach, I try to think of anything but the cocky, gorgeous athlete that has garnered me more attention than I could ever want. Thankfully, my cell phone rings, interrupting my thoughts before they can twist into something else.
I pluck the device from my pocket and stare down at the number on the screen. It isn’t one I recognize, but I answer it anyway, knowing there aren’t many people that have my number.
“Hello.”
“Hello, is this Blair Jensen?”
“Yup.”
“Hi, Blair. This is Coach Willard. I’m calling about Cage. I’m the one that set up the tutoring session this evening. I wanted to see how things went.”
“Well, it went about as good as being late and not having the session could go. Cage was late, so I left. If he’s not going to respect my time and take me seriously, then I’m not going to work with him.”
“Damnit!” he growls into the phone. “I’m sorry, Blair. I understand what you mean. I just need him on the team. He’s a damn good ballplayer, and I don’t want his academics to stand in the way of him being able to play.”
“I get it, but if he’s not showing up to do the work, I can’t help.” And that’s the truth. No matter what you do, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. Not that I don’t think Cage wants the help, he wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t care.
He just didn’t care enough, clearly.
“Okay, I’ll have a talk with him. You think you could give him another chance?”
Ugh. The last thing I want to do is be confined to a small space for an hour, twice a week, with my arch enemy. Still, I couldn’t let my dislike of the guy sway my choice on helping him. In the end, tutoring was an easy way to make money, and I need the money.
“I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
Coach Willard sighs into the phone. I know it’s not the answer he wants to hear, but it’s the only one he’s getting right now. “All right. Let me know. In the meantime, I’ll have a talk with him and get him on track. If you give him another chance, I promise he won’t waste your time.”
“Okay, I’ll make a decision and let you know,” I reply before ending the call.
Climbing off the bed, I grab a pair of clean sleep shorts and a tank top. It’s not like anyone will see me anyway. As I undress and undo my bra, I let out a sigh. Who knew that undoing your bra could bring such great joy?
Tossing the clothes into the hamper, I trudge back to the bed, grab my backpack, and unload my books. I have a lot of homework and some studying to do, but I don’t feel like doing anything but curling under the covers and reading a book.
Still, homework won’t do itself, and I’m determined to maintain my 4.0 GPA this semester. Grabbing a bottle of water from the minifridge, I get situated underneath the covers, organizing my books, notebooks, and pens where I want them.
I’ve just cracked open my economics book when my phone starts to ring. I swear to God if it’s Coach Willard, I’m tossing the damn thing out the window.
Seeing MOM flash across the front of the screen, I hit the green answer key.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie, how are things going?” This is her subtle way of asking if I’m making any friends or getting the full college experience.
“Things are good. Classes are great. I still don’t have a roommate, but I think that might change soon with the end of the semester coming up.”
“Awe, I’m sorry, honey. Your brother and I miss you so much. We could make a trip to come up and see you sometime?” I find myself shaking my head.
�
�No, that’s okay. I’m fine. You don’t have to drive up.”
One it’s a three-hour drive one way, and two, I don’t want her to waste what little money she has on making a trip to come see me. They’re barely getting by, and I can’t possibly ask her to come visit even if I’m missing home and feeling lonely.
“Are you sure, sweetie? You sound sad. It’s not a big deal for us to drive up there.”
Dear lord. I need to switch the subject before she makes the choice for both of us.
“I’m happy. I even went to my first college party.”
“Oh, yay! I’m so happy to hear that. I had hoped you would come out of your shell at college. It’s just too bad I’m not there to see it. How was it? Did you meet any boys?”
One, and he’s a complete and utter asshole.
“Yes, there were lots of boys there. No one of interest to me though.”
“That’s fine. You’ll find someone, maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually.” All my life, my mother has been the type to fall for the first guy to bat his eyes at her. I don’t want to be like that.
“Mom, I’m here to study and get an education. Love is far from my mind.” Like a million miles away, billion miles away.
“Sure, sure, sweetie.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but I’m done having this conversation.
“Laura, we need you back inside.” Antonio’s—my mother’s boss—voice filters in through the receiver.
“You’re at work?” I question while frowning. I swear she never takes a day off.
“Yes, picking up some extra hours.” She sighs. “I’ll be in, in a minute. I’m saying bye to Blair.” She must cover the speaker on the phone because the voice is muffled. A second later, she returns and says, “I’m sorry, sweetie, got to get back to work. I’m happy you’re getting out and enjoying college. Next time I call, we can discuss Ben and me coming up to visit.”