Caught Off Guard: A Sports Romance Novella

by Kira Blakely

  I didn’t bother waiting around to hear anymore. I turned on my heel and powered through the guy that had showed me up the stairs, knocking him backward before stomping down the stairs and straight through the open front door.

  I was in tears like a big, dumb idiot.

  And I guess I had my answer.

  I was delusional.

  Chapter Fourteen – Callie

  I wasn’t sure why I actually showed up. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment. Or maybe I just wanted to understand, as if seeing him in his tight football pants would somehow bring me clarity or something. I wanted to understand why some stupid game could be more important than anything else – why having a girlfriend was such a bad thing.

  The night air was cutting deep. It was finally starting to cool off, and I wasn’t prepared.

  I was used to summer nights – perfect temperature, clear, no need for a jacket. The worst thing that could happen to you was mosquito's.

  But tonight?

  It was rough.

  It was chilly. So chilly that I was shivering as my arms hugged around my body the best they could. “He’s going!” the announcer exclaimed, excitedly. My ears perked to the noise, and I saw Devon hanging onto the football, gripping it between his bicep and forearm, holding the ball tightly against his body.

  I bit my lip not really understanding why my center was burning red-hot all of a sudden.

  Was I turning into a fucking nympho? I was pissed at him – blood-boiling pissed at him, actually.

  But still, there was something about him that drove me wild, especially in that uniform.

  His beautiful shoulders, wide and strong, covered in pads, but I knew what was underneath. I knew that just beneath that uniform and under that protection were his perfect muscles, rising from his spine in grooves that I just wanted to sink my teeth into. Ugh. Why did he have so much control over me?! Why did I still give a shit?!

  That was pretty much the gist of the rest of the game. Why the hell I’d sat through two and a half hours of that torture was beyond me. I was a glutton for punishment through and through, I suppose.

  But, when I found myself power-walking away from the field, across the parking lot, and toward my old dorm room, I heard a voice cut through the night.

  “Please stop!” the deep voice rang out.

  I didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

  But, I did stop.

  I couldn’t help it.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, the weight of the world heavy on my shoulders as they slumped down. I felt the air around me grow thick, and my stomach start to whirl with nausea. My throat clenched, and I knew before my eyes started burning that I was almost in tears again.

  Why had I come?

  “Are you okay?” he asked, as he grabbed my hand and whirled me around.

  Definitely not okay, asshole. “I’m fine.”

  He leaned a little closer. “Do you feel sick?” He placed his clammy hand on my forehead. I took a step back. Was he being serious? Was he seriously insinuating that I was closed off because I was sick, rather than just really, really pissed off?

  I looked at him for a moment, but realized it was too difficult. The more I gazed into those eyes, the more I hurt.

  I knew we weren’t official.

  But the coldness he displayed in front of his dad and the way he’d humiliated me in front of his brothers were all just too much.

  My eyes shifted, trying my best to avoid direct contact with his stare; not that it was going unnoticed. His brow furrowed. “What’s going on? Seriously. Talk to me.” His voice was filled with concern, and I wanted to scoff right then and there.

  Too little, too late.

  I wondered, partially, if I was being unreasonably nuts.

  I knew that I shouldn’t have ‘pulled a Kara’ and called him my boyfriend, but to have him completely and flat out deny it in front of everyone? It was too much. All we were doing was having fun? After all the shit he’d fed me earlier that day?

  “Callie!” he said, trailing after me.

  Don’t – for the love of God – don’t say my name…

  “I’m fine!” I yelled, tossing my arms in the air and causing him to take a step back.

  "Okay, now I know you're definitely not fine.”

  I thought, if you don’t shut the fuck up and stop pretending like you don’t know what’s wrong.

  I growled and turned on my heel, facing away from him, ready to walk away from him for good. But, I couldn’t. He grabbed my wrist from behind and whirled me back around to face him. “Don’t touch me!” I yelled, my face scrunched with disdain as soon as my eyes befell his stupid face again.

  “Tell me what’s going on.” His hazel eyes looked at me with nothing but concern.

  “You know what’s going on! Jesus Christ, are you that stupid!?”

  He took a step back, eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”

  “You acted like I was insane in front of everyone!” A part of me knew that yelling in the middle of a crowded parking lot probably wasn’t the best way to convince people that I wasn’t insane.

  “Just talk to me!”

  “Just shut up! I don’t want to do this right now!” I tried to turn around once again, but my feet planted firmly into the cement below. I felt the tears strain and try to escape.

  “Why did you come if you were just going to leave without talking to me?” he asked, just before I felt a hand graze my shoulder.

  I stiffened. “I said not to touch me, Devon.”

  “Please, talk to me.” I could hear his voice crack as he spoke. His words were faltering, and when I turned my head to look at him, I could see it. Those gorgeous, hazel eyes were glazed over in sadness, his lips were quivering.

  “You have no idea what it’s like to have this amount of pressure on you!” he said, immediately causing my blood to boil. “Let me just explain–”

  But, that was all I wanted to hear. Hell, it was more than I wanted to hear.

  “I know what pressure is, Devon!”

  “I didn’t say you don’t, but you have no idea how my dad–” I held my hand up to stop him, but a guy actually beat me to interrupting him. He was dressed in the same uniform as Devon – clearly a fellow football player.

  “Shit, man,” the guy said, patting his back. “That stalker chick just can’t leave you alone, huh? Need me to call security?” The guy looked at me with an amused smirk and started to laugh, but before he could even get the first bit of a breath out, Devon punched him square in the jaw.

  I blew out a breath of frustration and turned on my heel. There was no way in hell I was going to stick around to see how that drama was going to play out. There was no way in hell I was going to see him in trouble for fighting at a school game. There was no way in hell I was going to see his football career jeopardized because of me.

  And there was no way in hell I was going to let him see the tears that were finally breaking free from their dam, trailing down my heated cheeks.

  The damage had been done, no matter how many punches he threw.

  I was now, quite officially, stalker girl.

  Chapter Fifteen – Devon

  My nerves were on end. So much so that I could feel the sweat forming on my palms and forehead. It was worse than double overtime with a championship just over the horizon. It was the real deal sort of nerves.

  I’d never done anything like it.

  I’d never stood up to him.

  My stomach churned as it bounded in knots of pure nausea. All I wanted to do was run, over the hills and far, far away.

  I stared at the mahogany door to his Southern California mansion and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

  I balled my hands into fists and gave a firm knock and waited. Eventually, someone would come, whether it was him or his maid, Roberta.

  When the door finally swung open, I felt my heart lunge into my throat. There he was, standing there in a freshly tailored navy suit and bright purple shirt. “D
evon?” he questioned, his brows furrowing in concern and confusion. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

  I nodded. “I had to come and talk to you.”

  “What happened?” he growled, his eyes narrowing as if to hone in on me. “Did you get kicked out of school? Off the team? What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?” He stepped closer, almost maniacally, and reached out for my shirt, but I took a step back.

  “Cut it out!” I found myself yelling, before I could even bother to stop myself. “You don’t ever give me any god damn credit and I’m sick of it!”

  He blinked, his jaw clenching. “What the hell are you talk–”

  But, I wasn’t going to let him finish. Suddenly, I felt courage ball up and whirl within my churning stomach, causing my body to stiffen and chest to puff out defensively.

  He rolled his eyes. “Come in before the neighbors think we’re having a domestic.” He grabbed hold of my forearm and yanked me inside. I knew he was stronger, but damn, I didn’t quite realize just how much stronger until he pulled me through the door, over the threshold, and into the living room like a rag doll.

  I smoothed out my clothes and waited for him to shut the door.

  “Well, now that the neighbors can’t see,” I growled.

  “Shh!” He waved his index finger in a windshield-wiper motion and pointed upstairs. “Let’s go to my office.”

  I rolled my eyes and followed him all the way upstairs and into a large, unnecessary office, and watched him have a seat at his expensive leather executive chair.

  "Now, what do I owe this pleasure?" His voice did something strange on the word “pleasure” as if he was mocking me. As if he knew exactly what I was there to do, and he was downplaying it as being dramatic.

  “Callie is a good girl,” I said.

  “Who the hell is Callie?” His eyes squinted, and he looked at me confused just before sitting at his desk chair. His arm raised to gesture for me to sit across from him, but I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly. There was no way I was going to do what he wanted me to do. Which sounded stupid when I internalized the thought. But I guess if he was going to be an asshole, I was going to be a toddler.

  And, that was distracting me from the fact that my hands were shaking. I swallowed – hard – without really even having any spit to swallow, and decided that having a seat really might have been in my best interest, so I let my knees buckle beneath me and sat down. Only, sitting down made me feel even worse; my knee was basically popping up to my face I was so damn antsy. I wondered if he could smell it by the broad smile spreading across his face.

  I stood up once again and started pacing back and forth. “I want you to know that I’m sick of this, dad.”

  “Oh?” I looked at him and noticed his brow was raised.

  “Of what, exactly? Your hundred-thousand-dollar SUV? Your privileged life? What exactly are you sick of?” His voice was calm.

  “No. I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me,” I stammered. It was insane how intimidating the man was. I’d never been afraid of anything before, especially not a person.

  Just my dad.

  He was the one and only person that could make me feel reduced to a squabbling baby.

  “I have something important I want to discuss with you,” I told him.

  He nodded his head, “I figured that much,” he said, “by the way you decided to start yelling at me outside my own home.”

  “It has to do with that girl, Callie–” I trialed off. I watched as his expression changed from a faint, sadistic amusement to something a lot more serious. It was a look that was so stern and serious, in fact, that it made me even more of a nervous wreck than I already was. “The girl from the other night at the frat house; the one claiming to be my girlfriend.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, dramatically rolling his eyes. “What about her? Is she pregnant?”

  I scoffed. “You’re unbelievable!”

  I stopped pacing and stood in front of his desk. “I like her. A lot. I want to see what’s there with us, if she’ll even still have me.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure she would. You have a lot of money, which is probably the only reason she spread her legs for you in the first place.”

  “Shut the hell up,” I groaned, holding my temples. He was giving me a fucking migraine. “That has nothing to do with anything.”

  “Jesus, son. Where are your priorities? We’ve worked so hard to get you here, so straighten your shit up. This is your future!” He gestured around the large room and smirked. “I gave you all of this, so that you could have it for yourself one day. Don’t let some college slut ruin your life.”

  “I’m not going to let anything ruin my life, dad,” I said, “especially not you.”

  He stood up, his face reddening. “You’re a fucking ingrate!”

  “Excuse me?!”

  “No!” he yelled, his body forcefully moving toward mine until his face was mere centimeters away. I could smell the bourbon on his breath as droplets of spit spewed from his wide-open trap. “You have everything! You have a talent that people would kill for! Don’t lose sight of it!”

  “I’m not fucking going to! Having a girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m going to throw my life away!”

  “Having you almost ruined my career, Devon!”

  “But, it didn’t!” I shoved him backward. “It didn’t ruin your career! And you loved mom!”

  He took a step back, eyes wide.

  “Just trust me to fucking make my own decisions!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “I love you, but I’m not happy! Let me be myself! I’ll work my ass off to make it work! I love football. I won’t jeopardize it. But you’re making it unbearable!” I felt my throat once again close. “Shit. Please, dad.”

  He cleared his throat and nodded. “Ok,” he said. “Ok,” he said as he sat down again, softer this time, “tell me about her.”

  So I did. I told him about the girl that I was so obviously falling for, and I didn’t stop there. I told him that I wanted to be more than a dumb jock. I loved football but the football he wanted me to love wasn’t what I loved. I loved it for the sport, the fun of the game. I didn’t love it as a means to an end. I didn’t love it if it meant that I had to turn my back on ever having a family. I didn’t love it if it meant that I couldn’t be something other than a body on a field. What would I have when I was too old or if I got injured? I could retire, probably. Live well on my inheritance and what money I did end up making. I would be fine. I knew that I would; but what if I wanted a job? What job could I have if I didn’t have anything more than the dumb jock persona?

  I let it all out.

  For the first time.

  Chapter Sixteen – Callie

  My phone had been buzzing non-stop for three days, and when I finally had to go back to lab, he was there, staring at me wide-eyed with a faint smile, ready for me to talk. But, I was far from ready.

  It took everything in me not to cry as soon as I saw him.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  “Will you please just talk to me?” he whispered. But I didn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  Instead, I just stared at the front of the room, listened as Dr. Wilson spoke, and did just as he instructed – nothing more, nothing less.

  I didn’t even talk to my ‘partner.’ Instead, I just worked beside him.

  “Hey, that’s the chick that stalked you!” one of his football buddies yelled from the front of the lab. “I knew I’d seen her before!”

  “Dude, shut the fuck up!” Devon snapped. “She didn’t stalk me!” He grabbed hold of my forearm as I tried to leave. “Will you please just talk to me?”

  I pulled away aggressively. “Devon, just leave me alone!” I could feel the tears burning the brims of my eyes, threatening to fall, and I just really didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I didn’t want to see his face. It just made it wo
rse.

  ***

  Nothing in my life had prepared me for the following weeks.

  I had been ridiculed, teased, and harassed over the next few weeks, and the sad part was I missed him.

  I knew that whatever we had was brief – a few days at best.

  In the scheme of things to come, I knew it wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans. But, it didn’t mean that for the weeks to come, I didn’t think about him. It didn’t mean I didn’t miss him. For some sick reason, I still cared about him, and part of me still believed he had, too. At least, a little.

  But, over the last couple of days, I’d stopped thinking about him.

  He dropped our biology lab or just stopped showing up. I didn’t really know which.

  He even stopped sending the “I’m sorry” texts, leaving me alone completely. It had, for a couple of days, only made me think about him more. But now I hadn’t had the time.

  I’d moved back home with my parents, and they pretty much forced me to stay locked up in my room studying since mid-terms were coming up. It was almost too much to handle. Every time I went downstairs, there they were, grilling me, asking how studying was going, and asking to quiz me.

  They were basically breathing down my fucking neck – hovering. And I hated hovering.

  That’s why I decided to go to the library on the campus I had started to despise for a while.

  I was behind a stack of books and binders higher than my head, as I filtered through my notes and sat alone at a table in the library. Fucking mid-terms, I thought to myself.

  I was starting to feel anxious, especially considering the fact that physics hadn’t become any easier.

  “Hey, look!” I heard a guy yell two tables down from me. “It’s Devon Halloway’s stalker!” I wasn’t even sure who that guy was, but even though Devon had left me alone, I’d still had a few dumbasses make fun of me every now and then.

  I figured it would have died down by now, and it had, mostly. It seemed to only be a few stragglers left at this point. I was over it, really. It hurt to hear them laughing at me at first, now it was just annoying, especially considering I had to study, and study hard.