“I don't want tension either,” I concede, but refuse to continue the conversation. “I've got to get to class.”
“Oh, me too. I've got to go, I've got a lunch date.”
I turn and walk away from her smile.
* * *
I pull up to Andrew’s; a group of guys are running around the yard shooting at each other.
They're all laughing, and that's what convinces me it's probably all right to get out of my car. That and Drew steps out of the front door and approaches my car.
“Is it safe?” I nod to the battlefield going on in his yard.
“Yeah, it's only a BB gun war. They’re releasing energy before the plane ride.” He reaches his hand out for me and walks me back to his front porch.
I don't miss the stares of the other players, some even wave before going back to yelling and shooting at each other.
I do a double take when I see Rose with Layla on the porch, they both greet me as we approach. I knew Rose was here, but Layla's presence is a surprise. They're sitting on loungers watching the players shoot each other. Luggage is piled high on the corner of the porch.
“Hey, are you going to get your gun and join them?” Layla questions Drew.
He keeps walking, not acknowledging either of them as he pulls me inside the house.
“That was rude,” I say the moment we enter his room.
“What was?”
“You didn't even acknowledge that she talked to you.”
He cocks his head as he pulls on my hand, bringing me to his chest. “So? I only went out there to get you.”
I push on his chest, keeping his lips from brushing my neck. “But you can still at least be nice.”
“Why should it matter if I talk to her or not?” His frustration’s rising, that dangerous tone putting me on edge.
“Because she said something to you.”
“So? Lots of people try and talk to me. But I don't know her. I don't care.”
“You don't know her? You slept with her.” I step back at the way he flinches and at the sound of my own voice. I sound jealous. I am jealous. I hate it.
“Fuck if I ever slept with that.” He gestures towards the porch with a scoff. “I don't know who you've been talking to, but that shit never happened.”
That silences me.
“Who told you that?”
“I just—” I shake my head, stunned, but ridiculously relieved too. “I just heard.”
“She's a team groupie. I don't even know who she's latched onto right now. I made the mistake last year of stopping a senior guy who lived here from taking her to their room when she was passed out. I let her sleep in here. I didn't know then that she just got around like that. “
“Oh.” My pride in him is short lived as his story about Layla sinks in. “That wasn’t a mistake, though.”
“Forget about her.” He sits on the edge of his bed. “She's worthless.”
“Don't say that.” His words hit me wrong. “You shouldn't treat people so mean. It's not nice.”
“You don't think I'm nice?” His voice is low and the sincere question in it gives me pause.
“No, I do.” I step towards him, but not close enough to touch. “I do think you're nice. I've seen it, but you don't show it all the time.”
“That's because I'm not really that nice.” He snatches me lightning quick, pulling me to stand between his legs. “But I have been very nice to you.” His hands grip my waist as he looks up at me. “Let me show you how nice I can be.” His lips brush my shirt at my stomach. “But we only have a little bit of time before the van gets here to take me to the airport.” His fingers bunch up my shirt so his lips can meet the bare skin at my waist. “So lets not waste it talking about her.” He pulls me tighter as my stomach dips and shudders under his kisses. “We've done enough talking this week.”
I rest my hands in his hair, on the edge of giving in. We had done a lot of talking this week, only able to see each other briefly between classes and practices and meetings.
I squirm and my fingers tighten in his hair as he flicks his tongue over my belly button.
“Damn, I'm going to miss you this weekend.” He groans and his hands slide over my skirt, the thin fabric barely a barrier as he squeezes my butt.
And I don't know what drives me wilder, his touch or his words. I’m starting to believe this could be more for him. But damn, do I love the physical too. He already has my body singing, and the endorphins coursing through me make me bold. I want him to feel the same rush he gives me, and I want to make sure he does miss me.
I straddle him one leg at a time and dip my head to meet his lips. “I can be nice too, you know?”
He freezes and I grow bolder, wanting to surprise him.
“Especially if you're nice.” I push on his chest, making him lay back, my hands going to his jeans.
“I'll fucking go out there and say hi to whoever you want me to.” He stares down his body to me, the excitement bright in his eyes.
“Maybe later.” I laugh and lick my lips as I pull down his jeans. “We don't have much time, remember?”
“You're right.” He sits up and grabs my waist, dragging me onto the bed with him but facing opposite directions. “Get your ass up here.”
I gasp as he flips my skirt up over my hips and pushes my underwear to the side. Nerves shoot through me as he pulls my legs over his face, his tongue hitting my center. But within moments, he has me moaning and lost in the pleasure his mouth gives.
He lifts his hips so I can slide his pants and boxers down his leg some. And then my moans are muffled as I fill my mouth with him, using my hand to reach the parts I can't take in. We both pant into each other and he makes it impossible to focus when he brings me to climax and keeps going. I'm only able to use my hand as he drinks me in and I silently cry out, still aware that others are outside.
I feel his eruption shudder through him and the sticky heat spurts out onto his stomach. He still holds my hips, licks slowing but continuing as my heart quiets down. So I bend back over him and taste him, hesitant at first, but his groan excites me and I keep going, licking him clean.
“Damn.” He breathes as he stands and buttons his pants. “I am going to think about that all weekend.”
That's what I was hoping for.
“I'll call you when I get back on Sunday.”
* * *
Scott lingers in the parking lot after the kid’s clinic on Saturday. His shy smile that tries to be confident worries me.
“Do you have plans today? I thought maybe you'd want to go to lunch or something.”
“I'm meeting some friends to watch the game.” I'm meeting Rose, Angel, and Jess.
“Right, the game.” He swipes his hand over his head. “Maybe we could get dinner after?”
“I'm sorry, Scott.” I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want to lead him on even more. “I can't—”
“Don't tell me it's because of Fayden.”
I flinch at his short tone. “I like you, as a friend.”
“That's what I'm trying to be.” He looks away and then back at me, a new serious look on his face. “That guy, Brody, he lives in the frat house with me. He was talking about you after someone mentioned that you might be Andrew Fayden's girlfriend.”
The disgust seeping into his tone cracks my attempt to stay calm. I can barely find the breath to speak. “What did he say?”
“That you had a thing for football players in high school. Except he was a bit more descriptive.”
“It's not true.” I'm about to burst into tears. “Don't believe him, please. I didn't do anything they said. They didn't—”
“It's okay.” He pulls me into his chest and my tears spill over. “I knew he was lying. I told him to shut up. I believe you.”
I wipe my tears and look to him with an overwhelming thankfulness. He believes me. Only my mom had ever said that. “Really?”
“Yeah, I may not have known you very long, but it didn’t sound like you. If you
say it didn't happen, it didn't. What about your sister and the coach?”
Everything hurt, splinters throughout my body. “What about them?”
“If you’re the one telling the truth, were you telling the truth about them?”
“I shouldn't have.” I wrap my arms around myself, the turmoil in me making me dizzy. “I shouldn't have ever said anything.”
“It's okay.” He reaches his hand out and cups the side of my head, swiping my hair. “You don't have to say anything now, and Brody won't say anything else. I'll make sure of it.”
I don't resist as he pulls me back into a hug, I'm weak with relief and shame and regret. So much regret, I can't breathe.
16: See Me
“Stop.” Angel drops her head to the table, banging it a few times in slow motion. “I can't. Google it or something, y'all are helpless.”
“Actually, that's not a bad idea.” I take a sip of my beer and slide a napkin between Angel's head and the table when she lifts it to bang it again. “I might just do that.”
“Oooh, I've got a better idea.” Jess throws her hands up with a little wiggle. “Get him to teach you, it'll be so cute. And he'll love that he knows more than you.”
“Oh, hell no.” Angel snaps up straight. “Do not do that.”
“What? Why? If she does it all cute and helpless like.” Jess bats her eyelashes and pouts, but also squeezes her arms on the sides of her boobs to deepen her cleavage.
“Some guys, maybe. But not guy's who are serious about sports, and Andrew is. Believe me, I've got five brothers, all very serious about their sports, and they don't find it attractive when a girl knows nothing about them. They definitely don't want to spend time teaching you the basics. It's one thing if you keep quiet.” She points at me now. “But whatever you do, don't open your mouth and spout nonsense about the game—that shit's offensive—at least show him you respect it enough to not talk about what you don't understand.”
“Easy enough, we don't really talk about football.” I nod and take another sip of my beer, splitting my attention to the television behind the bar. SEU won the game vs. Boston State, twenty to sixteen, and now replays and highlights play on the screen. The thing I didn't understand was that Andrew had sat out the entire fourth quarter.
“Really?” Rose sets her phone on the table. “That's one of TJ's favorite topics.”
“Well, I know, if I were in either of your positions,” Jess air quotes the word positions, “I wouldn't do much talking at all. My mouth would be too busy. You'd probably never see me again because I’d be locked away in their bedroom.”
“He probably realizes you don't know anything and can't stomach to hear you bumble through a discussion about a game he loves.” Angel slaps her hands on the table. “You need to get it together. Make it your priority.”
“Yes, mam.” I salute her. “I'll get right on it. Going to make flash cards and study when we get back to the dorm.” I’m halfway serious too, but I giggle with Jess, alcohol warming my veins.
After my talk with Scott, I feel lighter than I have in a long time. It gave me new hope, even if Brody is running his mouth. When everything went down, I was in high school, a small high school, and there was no escape. And the students were young with a fierce loyalty to those they knew and supported their entire lives. But here, in college, it’s different. People will be able to see the truth; Scott gave me that hope.
Rose's phone vibrates on the table and she picks it up.
“Who do you keep texting?” Jess asks.
“It's TJ.” Rose's fingers don't stop moving on the screen.
“But you were even texting throughout the game,” Angel's full of disapproval.
Rose nods, still texting. “He told me to text him whenever he's on TV. He want's to know what the announcers are saying and if they show him in one of those player spotlights.”
“And he's texting you back already? The game only just ended, they're probably still in the locker room.” Angel's eyes widen.
“Yeah, he was texting me in the middle of the game too.” I'm surprised her grin fits on her face.
“Ah, that's so cute.” Jess claps her hands like a seal, but her voice is squeaky like a mouse.
I nod, but the words I keep in turn sour in my stomach.
* * *
The four of us are back at South Street Wings the next day. The place is even more crowded since the entire team seems to be here already. I haven’t talked to Drew yet, but he texted me to meet him here.
I've got one hand in Rose's and my other in Jess's, hanging on so we don't lose each other in the thick crowd.
Drew is posted at the back corner table with TJ, Kyle, and a few others. If the girls didn't have a death grip on my hands, I'm sure they would be shaking at the sight of Kyle and TJ next to each other.
Rose lets go first, and I can't tell who did what but within a blink, TJ has her in his arms and his tongue down her throat. I look towards Kyle, but he's staring off towards the bar and doesn't look my way.
Andrew has a beer to his lips, chugging down what's left as I approach.
“Good game.” I nudge to his side.
He set the empty bottle on the table “Was it?”
There's no smile. No nothing.
“Do you not think so?”
“I don't know.” He looks at me then, for the first time. His eyes slide down my body, over my new lace skirt I'd worn just for him, but there's no heat. “I need a drink? Do you want something?”
“Ah, sure.” Everything feels off, but maybe I just need to relax. “I'll have a beer.”
“Right. I'll be back.” He slips into the crowd, and I'm left staring.
Jess fills the spot next to me, but her eyes travel around the room. “Wow. Everyone's so… big. I'm not a tiny girl, but they make me feel like I could be.”
I laugh, trying to shake off my unease.
“Oh, that one.” Jess points to one of the defensive lineman. “He's a big one. I love him already.”
Kyle makes eye contact with me as Rose and TJ walk away together.
“I'm going to go talk to him.” Jess pulls back her shoulders and then collapses onto the table. “No, I can't. Wait. Yes, I can. Should I?”
“Is he single, Kyle?” I point to the man Jess is debating about.
Kyle narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Reggie? That fat ass, you're hyperventilating over him?”
“Maybe I am.” Jess picks up her clutch from the table. “He's probably a lot nicer than you.”
“Oh he is.” Kyle picks up his dark glass and takes a sip. “Good luck talking to him, though. See if you can understand his stuttering. That's if he doesn't faint first. It's never the pretty girls that talk to him.”
“I think he called you pretty.” I try and pluck out that one good thing Kyle said. “You should definitely go talk to the boy.”
“I will.” Jess walks away after shooting Kyle a disgusted look.
Angel's talking to the two other guys at our table, but I'm lost in their conversation. So I'm left with Kyle.
“That's what you got, out of everything I said? That she's pretty?” He shakes his head. “Girls are dumb.”
“And you're mean.”
“That's a known fact. Ask anybody.” He takes another sip of his drink and then leans over the small high top table towards me. “You need a drink?”
“I think Drew is getting me one.”
“Drew?” The corner of his lip tugs. “It's Drew now, is it?”
“How did this weekend go?” I ignore his teasing.
Any trace of a smile vanishes as he stares into the crowd, where Rose and TJ have disappeared. He steps to my side of the table, but before he speaks, Drew appears.
“Here.” Drew hands me a beer bottle but keeps his hand on it as he leans down to my ear to be heard over the band that's starting to play, “lets go to the patio. I want to talk to you.”
Kyle's disappeared.
“All right.” I nod and sli
de off my stool to follow him.
The pounding pulse of the drums is muffled as the door closes behind us, but the patio is full as well, most of the crowd is around the outside bar.
Drew continues to walk me to the edge of the building, but stops short of pulling me around the corner to complete seclusion.
“This weekend was stressful.” He relaxes his side against the wall and pulls me to stand closer to him.
“Oh, I'm sorry—”
He shakes his head, easing me even closer with one hand on my hip. “It's not your fault. But I'm glad you're here now, you can make it better.” He places a feathery light kiss to the tip of my nose, my cheek, and then the base of my ear.
Each one makes my heart flip, and his words awaken butterflies.
“Come home with me tonight,” his breath is warm in my ear, “please.” Both hands grip my hip as he raises his head to look at me, his eyes dark and begging. “Sleep over, like last weekend.”
I don't know what to embrace, the exhilarating heat traveling through me, or the nervous dread rolling in my stomach. He's created a storm.
“I…” I search his face for a sign, for something to tip me one way or the other.
“It's not what you're thinking,” he interrupts, hand slipping to the back of my neck like he want's to keep all my attention. I love it. But I love the deep look that overtakes him more, the emotion that rasps in his voice. Then he smiles, that dirty smile that matches his typically crude thoughts. “Well, maybe it's a little what you're thinking. Or a lot.” His lips overtake mine, pressing into them with nips of his teeth, he doesn't pull away when he continues, “But I also want you sleeping beside me.” He drops his head back to my ear. “Like last weekend, but without leaving in the morning.”
I nod, and the vulnerability running through his gaze overwhelms me as he pulls away. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be.” He swigs his beer. “We won't stay that long, maybe a couple of hours.”
But a couple hours later, he's at the table with several empty bottles, and opening a new one. He's talking to some guys about football, the NFL, and which teams they think will make it to the super bowl. I scan my surroundings for a way out; my research yesterday hadn't included NFL teams.
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