Roughing the Passer (Quarterback Sneak Book 2)

by Natalie Brock

  Tony touched her arm. “Aw, come on Brit. She’ll get there, especially with you as her teacher.”

  Brittany raised her eyebrows. “Lookit, I didn’t sign up for the long haul.”

  “No, but you’re not gonna turn your back on her either. You were new once. Remember?”

  “Yeah, but at least I had a sense of timing and rhythm,” she noted. “I know people make fun of cheerleaders, but it’s not as easy as it looks, and not everyone is cut out for it.”

  Tony looked down at his shoes. He was running out of options.

  “Hey.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Why is this so important to you? I thought you said you hardly know her.”

  “Yeah, but I guess she reminds me of me. She needs someone to believe in her.” Looking Brittany in the eye, he added, “We all do, don’t we?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Geez Tony, no one can say no to you when you give them that puppy-dog look.”

  A smile crept over his face. “So you’ll do it?”

  “Yeah, okay. Whatever,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “Lemme check the online schedule and see when the gym is available again.” She pulled her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ll text her.”

  “You’re the greatest.” Tony surprised Brittany with a hug. She let out a little laugh when he released her.

  As Brittany exited the gym, he turned his attention back to Allison. She was seated on a bench in the first bleacher row with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

  Tony sighed at the sight of her. So pretty and so sad. He slanted his eyes and thought for a minute. Instead of matching her mood, he decided to try some reverse psychology on the psych major.

  “Hey,” he said brightly as he approached. “Not bad for a first time, huh?”

  Allison looked up at him without lifting her head. “Are you kiddin’? I suck.”

  His lips parted. That wasn’t what he expected her to say. Still, her sweet southern accent made even the words “I suck” sound charming. He took a seat next to her on the bench and was about to rub her back but he pulled his hand away. “You don’t suck! Don’t say that. Maybe you aren’t a great cheerleader yet, but that don’t mean you suck. You just need practice. We all need to practice so we get better.”

  “It won’t help.” She sounded like she was trying not to cry when she said, “I thought college was supposed to be the best years of my life. That’s what my mom always built it up to be, but it sure hasn’t been the best time of my life.” She covered her face with her hands. “Or is this it? Suppose it’s all downhill from here?”

  He finally let instinct take over and stroked her back with one hand. This was new territory for Tony Ramos. He’d never comforted a girl before outside of a bedroom. “Hey now. What’s so bad about college?”

  She uncovered her eyes and sat up straighter. He stopped rubbing her back but let his hand continue to rest on her spine. “You’re right, Tony. I guess it’s not college that’s the problem. It’s me, and no matter where I go, I’ll still be my same basic, miserable self.”

  “Sounds like you’re taking your psych classes too personally,” he said, trying to cheer her up.

  She reached behind her and roughly pulled her hair out of the ponytail clip. When she shook her head to loosen it, he caught a faint scent of strawberries. Tony pulled his hand away, watching as her blonde waves ebbed and flowed around her shoulders. He felt his breath quicken, followed by a strong urge to kiss her.

  “Look, I know what I’m talkin’ about,” she insisted. “I have hardly any friends, I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school, I’m a crappy waitress, and I’m failin’ miserably at my one, sorta social activity. I’m a mess.”

  “I don’t see you that way,” he responded quietly. He saw her as sweet, innocent, and inexperienced. She was so different from other girls he knew, the ones who threw themselves at him since high school merely because he was a football player, not because of who he was inside—a throwaway kid who was so worthless, even his own parents wanted nothing to do with him.

  Rafael Ramos didn’t even know Tony was alive—literally—and Christine Russo couldn’t care less. Sure she phoned on birthdays and Christmas, like a distant relative might, but she was more than happy to let her mother raise her own son while she was off chasing her dream of being an actress or model or whatever. Last he heard, she was working at an Orlando theme park selling tickets at an admission booth. Despite the fact she worked close to where Tony was going to school, she never made an attempt to see her son.

  “That’s because it’s different for you,” Allison retorted. “You’re a popular football player.”

  He chuckled wryly. “Football player yes, but I’m not popular, especially not with my coaches.”

  “So, what are you sayin’? We’re both outcasts? Misfits?”

  He licked his lips and shook his head from side to side. He couldn’t stop himself any longer. He wanted to soothe her, as well as his own need to touch her, so he cupped the back of her head and lightly ran his fingers over her tresses. Her hair was silky-soft and had little ridges where the ponytail clip had been. He stared at her hair as he answered. “I might be a misfit, but I’d never describe you that way,” he said softly. “I don’t get why you have so little confidence. I mean you’re beautiful. You’re sweet and you’re smart. You’re perfect, just the way you are.”

  Looking downward, she said, “You’re just saying that.”

  “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t lie.”

  She looked into his eyes. “How come someone like you has no self-confidence either?”

  “I have a lot of confidence when it comes to the game. My personal life is another story.”

  “Maybe someday you’ll tell me about it,” she murmured quietly. When he nodded, she added, “I didn’t know you were gonna be a nice guy.”

  A feeling of warmth spread over his body. No one ever called him a nice guy before and he was gratified that someone like Allison could think so well of him. “Probably ’cause I’m more comfortable on offense,” he answered with a smile.

  “I think you keep that nice guy under wraps too much.”

  “Kind of like where you keep your smile?” When Allison smiled a little, he blurted, “Ha! Got you to smile again.” Moving his hand to her shoulder, he gave it a squeeze. “You’ll get there, Allie, just don’t give up on yourself.”

  Allison tilted her head as she looked into Tony’s face. He wondered what she was thinking. “You called me Allie. Hardly anyone besides my dad ever called me Allie.”

  “Called? Past tense?”

  Allison’s eyes grew watery. She looked away, then quickly got up. “I better go.”

  Tony stood up and faced her. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, you’re great. I just—”

  He reached for her arm, but stopped short of touching her. “Can I—can I walk you back to your dorm?” He never felt nervous around a girl before, but he definitely felt anxious waiting for her answer. Say yes, Allison.

  Allison looked down at her feet. “Not today.” She lifted her eyes and met Tony’s gaze. “Maybe another day.” She gathered her things and rushed out of the gym.

  Chapter Nine

  Her second lesson with Brittany a week later went much better than her first, probably because Tony wasn’t watching this time. She liked Tony, maybe more than she was willing to admit, but she felt self-conscious when he was there. How embarrassing was it that he performed the routine better than she did? She was the proverbial bull in a china shop sandwiched between two disgustingly beautiful dancers. She couldn’t help but notice that even Brittany seemed more relaxed without a man around. She wasn’t “on” like she’d been a couple days earlier.

  After they finished, Brittany sat on a bench to check her messages. Allison approached her. “Mind if I sit?” Brittany was focused on her phone. She briefly glanced at the bleacher seat and shrugged, so Allison took a seat beside her.

  This was
hard for Allison, but she needed information and Brittany might be the only person in the world she could ask. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Allison began. “I know we’re not friends or nothin’, but can I ask you somethin’?” Brittany didn’t appear to be paying attention, but Allison continued anyway. “What do you think of Tony?”

  Brittany slowly lowered the mobile phone and rested it on her knee. She turned her head toward Allison. “Why?”

  Allison took a deep breath. She wasn’t expecting her motives to be questioned. “Well, because I heard a lot about him before I actually met him, and none of what I heard was good. I mean, he has a nasty reputation, but now that I know him a little, well, it just doesn’t add up to the guy I’ve seen.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “So, do you think it’s true?” Allison asked.

  “What’s true?” Brittany batted the question ball back to Allison.

  Allison sighed. Apparently Brittany was going to make her spell it out. “You know. The date rape accusation. Do you think he really did it?”

  “How should I know? I wasn’t there,” Brittany answered flatly.

  Maybe she needed to pose the question a different way. “Um. Do you know the girl? The one who accused him?”

  “No, not really,” Brittany shrugged. “I mean she’s not on the squad. I think I know who she is, but not personally or anything.”

  “Okay, so, do you think she’d lie?”

  “Jeez.” Brittany rolled her eyes. “Everyone always blames the victim.”

  Allison flinched. “Oh. So you do think it’s true.”

  “Okay, look.” Brittany set her phone aside and threw a leg over the bench to straddle it and fully face Allison. “Ordinarily I’d side with the girl in a situation like this, but Tony emphatically denied it from day one, and knowing Tony, I believe him. One look at those puppy-dog eyes of his and you know he’s telling the truth.” Allison was relieved to hear Brittany absolve Tony, but there was a pang of jealousy when Brittany described his eyes. “Tony has his faults but lying isn’t one of them.”

  Okay, this is good. She was getting at the truth little by little and she was really glad that Brittany had a good opinion of Tony. Still, that jealousy instinct was getting louder. Was there ever anything romantic between Brittany and Tony? As a psych major, Allison paid attention to Brittany’s tone as well as her words, her body language, facial expressions, and eye movements. Brittany's demeanor was neutral when she talked about Tony, leading Allison to decide there was nothing but friendship between Tony and Brittany—maybe mostly because that’s what Allison wanted to believe. She guessed she could ask directly, but directness was never easy for Allison. “Um. How do you know him so well?” She hoped Brittany wouldn’t say they were lovers.

  “We’re in the same business,” Brittany answered with a chuckle. “And I’m kind of a people watcher. I observe all the players,” she boasted. “After a while you get to know people’s character, ya know? A lot of the guys have huge egos, but not Tony. If anything, he’s just the opposite.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s hard on himself,” Brittany replied, “And I don't just mean football. I get the feeling he puts himself down before anyone else gets the chance. Kind of breaks your heart.”

  Allison swallowed hard. Brittany’s description of Tony just deepened her feelings for him. She had a sudden longing to put her arms around Tony and tell him she was on his side. “So it sounds like you don’t think he did it.”

  “Like I said, I wasn’t there,” Brittany reiterated. “There’s only two people who know the truth. Lookit Al, Tony’s a nice guy. I don’t know him as well as I know some of the other guys on the team, but he seems like one of the good ones. Still, sometimes even good guys are asses. If he was high or drunk or who knows what else, well, it’s possible.”

  Back to square one. “Those are really serious allegations. I mean, if he did it.”

  “This is just me speculating,” Brittany added with a light touch on Allison’s arm. “If you really want to know, why not just ask him?”

  Her eyes widened. “Just? I couldn’t! I feel like I don’t know him well enough to ask such a personal question. I mean, it’s kind of hard to bring up somethin’ like that.”

  Brittany laughed. “You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

  “What? No!” Allison answered a little too quickly. Brittany raised her eyebrows and Allison could tell she wasn’t buying it. “I’m not sure. Maybe,” Allison answered truthfully.

  “Like I said, ask him. Don’t assume either way. Something tells me he’ll be honest with you, even if it paints him in a bad light.” She turned around and reached for her phone, signaling their conversation was over.

  Allison nodded and rose from the seat. “Thanks Brittany. And thanks for helping me with the routines.”

  Brittany lifted her eyes from her phone. “Hey Al. What you said before about not being friends?”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe one day we will be.” She smiled at Allison. “I hope you make the squad. I really do.”

  The tension on Allison’s face disappeared and she smiled back. “Thanks, Brittany. Me too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tony had just finished working out and working off some steam. The resentment he felt in the pit of his stomach would not go away. After proving he was more than capable of leading his team to victory, he was relegated to playing second fiddle to Matt Warner, a transfer from some Christian junior college whose football team was a joke. The guy wasn’t even officially starting his Junior year at EFU until the fall and he’d already won the starting quarterback job. It took Tony a year and a half to win that role. It took him only a day to lose it.

  Okay, so the workout clearly didn’t calm his nerves, but maybe seeing Allison would. He knew Brittany was giving Allison a lesson right now, so after showering, he waited for her outside the gym. He peered through the window in the door and caught sight of two blonde heads on a bench. His senses were instantly awakened and he found himself eager to gaze into Allison’s Caribbean blue eyes, touch her ethereal blonde hair, to drink in her shapely body, and inhale her strawberry essence.

  When she exited the gym, she was clearly surprised to see him.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “Uh. A little better,” she said, tucking a hair behind her ear.

  “Good!” He clasped her shoulder. “See, I told you you’d get better with practice.”

  She looked at his hand on her shoulder, then at his face. “You know, you don’t need to feel responsible for me. It’s not necessary to check up on how I’m doin’.”

  Tony swallowed hard and dropped his hand to his side. Seemed like she was telling him she didn’t want him around. “I know. I just—I was just being friendly.”

  “Oh.” She blushed. “I guess I’m out of practice with that too.”

  Not ready to give up yet, he asked, “Where you headed?”

  “To my dorm. I need to change for work. I’m on the four to ten shift.”

  “Okay if I walk you?”

  “I guess.” She tucked the same strand of hair behind her ear again. Tony smiled from ear to ear, relieved that she didn’t say no this time. He tugged on the strap of her backpack, silently offering to carry it for her.

  “Afraid I’ll drop it,” she jokingly asked.

  He shook his head no. “Just trying to be a gentleman.”

  She nodded and allowed him to slide the backpack off her shoulder. He tucked it under one arm like a football.

  As they walked through the double doors that led to the path from the sports complex to the main campus, Tony stroked his chin, struggling to find something to talk about. The bright Florida sun gave him an idea. “Hot out, huh?”

  “Yeah well. It’s June and this is Florida—”

  Come on Tony, you can come up with something more interesting than the weather. “You’re majoring in Psychology, huh?”

  �
�Yeah, major in psych, minor in Spanish. Say, you speak Spanish, right?” she asked.

  “Me? No, why?”

  “Well, you’re Hispanic, aren’t you?”

  “Half. Father was Cuban, but I never met him. I grew up with my mom’s side of the family. They’re Italian.” He laughed a little. “And before you ask, I know very little Italian.”

  She cocked her head. “Did you say you never met your dad? Did he die?”

  “No,” Tony answered, looking down at the bricks on the pathway between buildings. “I mean, I don’t think so. My dad was deported before I was born.”

  “Deported? Why?”

  “Something illegal.” When Allison’s eyes widened, he quickly added, “I don’t mean he killed nobody. Nothing like that. From what my grandmother told me, it had to do with drugs. Either possession or selling. Not for nothing, the story changed every time she told it, so I’m not sure what the truth was. Sometimes I think he took off on my mom just like she took off on me.”

  “Your mother left you?”

  Tony stared straight ahead as they walked. “Geez, I’m talking way too much. I don’t usually tell people this stuff.”

  “It’s okay.” She touched his arm all too briefly. “I’m a good listener.”

  Her sweet expression was so disarming. And that little touch felt like a big deal to him. It made him wish the walk to her dorm was much longer. “So are you gonna psychoanalyze people?”

  With a small laugh, she said, “Not the way you mean, like an office with a couch. I’m studying educational psychology.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It has to do with how people learn, starting in childhood.”

  His brow knit and he hoped she didn’t think he was stupid. “Where do people do that kind of work?”

  “In schools and universities,” she explained. “Or the government, or even private corporations. There’s lots of options. I haven’t decided which one I want to take. But we were talking about you. And your parents. So you never met your father?”