Next Man Up (Making the Score Football Romance Book 2)

by Tawdra Kandle

  “There’s some kind of party tonight at a fraternity called Lambda something or other,” Gia announced. “A guy gave me a flyer. Do you all want to go?”

  Nate shook his head. “Not my scene.” I saw him look at Quinn uncertainly, but she wrinkled her nose.

  “I don’t want to go. Leo’s going to call tonight, and besides . . .” She shot Nate a small smile. “Not my scene really, either.”

  “Awww, come on, you guys. Don’t be so lame.” Gia tilted her head. “I don’t want to go by myself. And it’s our first college party.”

  “Sorry.” Quinn sounded anything but.

  “I’ll go with you.” From her spot by the door, still leaning on the desk, Zelda spoke. “I’m always down for a party. But make sure you have your own way home, because chances are I’ll find a fuck buddy, and I don’t like to feel rushed.”

  There was a long moment of silence, the sort my mother would’ve termed stunned. Nate’s face was red, Quinn was trying to look anywhere but at the rest of us, and Gia was watching Zelda, a little bit of amusement in her eyes.

  I, on the other hand, was trying to process this new information to see if it gave me any more insight into where I’d hooked up with Zelda. She talked about sex so casually that she reminded me of myself back in the day. But fucking someone like myself wasn’t my MO back then—I’d liked the ones who’d looked at me with wide, dreamy eyes. I’d preferred the girls who hadn’t fucked half of the rest of the football team. Yeah, it made me the biggest hypocrite out there, and yeah, I’d had a shit ton of time to see the error of my ways. And karma, that cold bitch, had the last laugh, since now, even though I was capable of performing, finding women who wanted to enjoy that performance wasn’t easy.

  After all, how many chicks want to bang a dude in a fucking wheelchair?

  Chapter Two

  Zelda

  Grammy always told me, “Start out as you mean to go on.” What she was trying to teach me was that it was easier to maintain the expectations I’d established than to change people’s minds about me.

  That was why I wore my shortest denim shorts and a clingy black tank top to move into the dorms at Birch College. I didn’t want there to be any misconception about who I was and what I was willing to do as I carried my possessions from my car to the room on the second floor of Gibbons Hall.

  I could feel the eyes on me as I climbed the steps, and I knew what they saw: miles of tanned legs, a nicely rounded booty and a killer rack, all accented by the clothes I’d chosen. I could guess what most of them were thinking, too. If college was going to be anything like high school—and holy God, I prayed it wouldn’t be—the guys were going to be clamoring over each other to get into my panties, and the girls already hated me.

  Once I had everything upstairs, I perched on the edge of the plastic mattress to text Grammy and let her know I’d arrived safely. My grandmother was not the queen of technology. Born into a Mennonite community—one of the stricter ones, at that—she still tended to eschew what she considered worldly complications. But now, with me living two and a half hours away, she’d made a concession to the twenty-first century and added a data plan to the small flip phone she carried.

  “I want to be able to keep in touch, and you might not always have the privacy to call,” she’d told me when I’d expressed surprise at the change in attitude. “This way, you have no excuse for not letting me know how you’re doing.”

  That gesture had touched me more than I could’ve ever expressed. Sometimes I forgot how lucky I was to have my grandparents. I was going to miss them, and that was a jarring revelation. I’d spent the past two years living what was essentially a double life, playing the sweet, docile Zelly at home while at school, I was the girl every guy wanted to fuck.

  And quite a few of them had.

  After I’d checked in with Grammy, I set to work putting together my side of the small room. My roommate hadn’t arrived yet, and I didn’t mind admitting that I was glad about that. It was nice to have some peace and quiet while I settled in.

  Once everything was put away, I sat on the neatly made bed and unscrewed the cap from a bottle of nail polish. I’d treated myself to a mani-pedi before leaving Lancaster, but in the process of carrying my shit up the steps, I’d managed to chip both of my big toes. Luckily, I had the same shade of polish on hand and could easily touch it up.

  I was in the midst of doing just that when the door swung open, and two girls peered in. One was diminutive, with generous curves and a cap of short black hair, while the other was of average height, with long, almost auburn curls.

  I replaced the lid on the nail polish and stood, carefully mindful of my still-set toes. “You must be the roommate.” Stretching, I lifted my arms over head. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zelda Porter.”

  The taller girl stepped toward me. “Quinn Russell. And this is my friend, Gia Capri.”

  “Hey.” I nodded. “So, I got here super early and set up my stuff on this side of the room. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” Quinn dropped a bag on the empty bed. “I’m not fussy about what side of the room I have.”

  I watched for a few moments as the two girls worked out a plan for unloading and moving in; apparently, Gia was Quinn’s friend from high school who was also attending Birch and living on the fourth floor of Gibbons, and they’d driven over together. They were from a small town only ten minutes from the college, which made me wonder why they weren’t living at home, instead of at the dormitories.

  “My mom’s selling our house and moving to central Jersey to be near my sisters now that I’m in college.” Gia shrugged. “She was just waiting for me to leave so she could do it.”

  “And living in the dorms was part of a compromise with my mother,” Quinn explained. “She wanted me to go further away for college and I . . . didn’t.”

  “I have to ask.” I lay back on my pillows, crossing my ankles. “What did you do to get me as a roommate? I expected to end up with some loser, given my situation.”

  Quinn frowned and perched on the corner of her bed. “What situation?”

  I regarded her steadily for a few seconds. “I had a roommate. Or rather, I had someone who was assigned to be my roommate. She, um, decided we weren’t a good fit anymore.” My lips twitched, although even now, the situation wasn’t funny. There was still a small pang of hurt when I thought about that weekend.

  My new roommate was trying to decide how to tactfully ask me for clarification. I could almost see her mind working, and I noticed that she was careful not to look at her friend, whose own expression was much less charitable. I’d call it downright suspicious, in fact.

  “Uh, did you, um . . . disagree?”

  Disagree. I wanted to snort, roll my eyes and act like a sarcastic bitch. Instead, I lifted one foot and examined the polish on the toes. “You might say that. I fucked her boyfriend, and she disagreed with my rationale for doing it.”

  The air in the room was electric, fairly crackling with tension. I heard Gia’s sharp intake of breath as Quinn’s mouth sagged open. “Oh.”

  It was a single syllable filled with shock, but I didn’t hear judgement. Then again, maybe she just hadn’t gotten there yet.

  But on the off-chance that I could still salvage this fledging roommate relationship, I decided to focus on the lack of criticism. Sighing, I pressed my lips together.

  “Here’s the thing that you need to know about me. I like men. I like sex. And I don’t do relationships.” Without meaning to, I reached for the small silver charm that hung from a whisper-fine chain on my neck. “The girl I was supposed to room with lives up in Trenton. She invited me to come visit for a weekend, so we could get to know each other and make plans for the room—you know, shop for towels and posters and that kind of shit.”

  “Didn’t you get along?” Quinn bent her knees, folding her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. She looked incredibly young to me, although I knew we were probably the same age.

 
“She was okay, until she caught me riding her boyfriend’s cock in his Jeep, parked in her driveway.”

  “Holy God,” muttered Gia. I didn’t even glance her way.

  “Listen.” I leaned forward, my eyes on Quinn. “I just told you that the thing you have to know about me is that I like men, and I like sex. It’s true. But I’m not a poacher. I don’t steal boyfriends. That guy—the would-be roommate’s boyfriend—he came onto me. He was flirting and touching me from the minute I got there. He made the first move. Did I say no?” I hesitated, remembering that weekend and the decision I’d made, which had been based more on disappointment and wounded pride than on a desire to have sex. “I didn’t. Maybe I should have. But I wasn’t the first girl he’d cheated with, and if they stayed together—which I highly doubt—I can promise you I wasn’t the last. I’m just the one he got caught fucking.”

  Quinn’s brow knit together, and in her green eyes I saw worry and unease. “And that makes you . . . what? The hero of the story?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I never claimed I was. But I’m hardly the villain, either. All I did was fail to say no.” I watched Quinn’s gaze wander to the tile floor, and I heard Gia’s soft sigh. Taking a deep breath, I stood up from the bed.

  “By the look on your face, I’m guessing you have a serious boyfriend, and now you’re wondering if he’s safe from me.”

  “I do have a boyfriend, and yes, we’re very serious. But he doesn’t screw around on me. I know that for sure.” She paused, and I could see her throat work as she swallowed. “I trust him, and as far as trusting you—as long as you don’t give me a reason to think otherwise, I will. You were honest about what happened with the girl who was supposed to be your roommate, and you didn’t have to say anything. That counts.”

  Quinn lifted her eyes to me. She was being honest, too, and I appreciated that. A fissure of relief ran down my spine. I hadn’t dared to hope that my roommate and I were going to be best friends forever. As a rule, I didn’t have many friends who were straight women. Most girls disliked or distrusted me on sight. The idea that Quinn and I could speak frankly and co-exist peacefully was more than I’d expected . . . and quite possibly, more than I deserved.

  Although Quinn and Gia both seemed to be likable, easy-going girls, I was more than a little surprised when they invited me to go with them to meet up with their friend Nate, particularly after I’d teased Quinn about whether or not this friend was off-limits to me. I wouldn’t have been shocked if the two girls had wanted a little time by themselves to whisper about Quinn’s new nympho roommate. But whether they were simply being polite by including me or honestly wanted me to come along, I’d decided to go with them, simply to get out of the dorm and have something to do.

  Quinn had given me a head’s up about her friend Nate. I could sense how protective of him she was, and within a few minutes of being introduced, I could see why. There was an air of delicacy about him—not that he came across as wimpy or weak, but there were shadows under his eyes and a difference in the way he held himself as he sat on the bench outside our dormitory. I couldn’t miss, either, how his gaze followed Quinn. He was crazy in love with her—there wasn’t any doubt about that. I felt sorry for the dude, because I already knew she was gaga for their friend who was a football player down at Carolina.

  But all my sympathetic vibes flew out the window as Nate told us about his roommate. I’d understood from what Quinn had said earlier that Nate was living in an accessible dormitory that was specifically set up for those students who had particular physical needs. So, like Quinn, I was more than a little surprised when I heard him say he was living with a football player.

  “He’s paralyzed, and he’s in a wheelchair,” Nate elaborated when Quinn asked. “I guess it’s more accurate to say he used to be a football player. He played for Franklin Township, actually. He would’ve been a year ahead of us. As I understand it, he took a bad hit on the field during a game when he was a senior. Like . . . a seriously bad, life-threatening hit.”

  “Oh, God.” Gia’s eyes went wide. “I think I remember that. It was early in the season, before they played against us. I heard it was horrible. People on the sidelines could hear . . .” Her voice trailed off as she caught the expression on Quinn’s face. “Anyway.”

  “What’s his name?” Quinn asked Nate. “I never missed a game—until senior year, that is. I’m sure I heard of him.”

  “Eli. Eli Tucker, but he said everyone calls him Tuck.”

  The world tilted slightly, and my ears began to ring, making it difficult to hear what the others were saying. I gripped the back of the bench, the flaking paint digging into my skin. Without realizing it, I sucked in a sharp breath.

  What were the chances? Apparently, pretty fucking good, because there was no way this couldn’t be my Eli. I coughed a little, choking down a laugh of derision at the fact that I still thought of him that way. He’d never been my Eli, not even on the night when I’d let him have my virginity. He’d always been a manipulative bastard. And I’d been the stupid girl who’d looked at him with blinding stars in my eyes.

  Quinn glanced at me with curiosity. Clearly, I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding my surprise. Clearing my throat, I worked to keep my voice even and indifferent.

  “Eli Tucker? From Franklin Township? Huh. I think I might’ve met him once.” Shrugging, I added, “It happened a long time ago. I doubt he’d remember me.”

  Quinn snorted. “I don’t know, Zelda. We just met, but I’m pretty sure I’d consider you unforgettable.”

  I smiled, and for the first time that day, the expression was genuine. “I’m not sure you meant that to be a compliment, doll, but I’m going to take it as one anyway.” Rubbing my stomach, I changed the subject quickly. “Are we going to eat or what? I’m starving.”

  “Sure.” Quinn motioned in the general direction of the student life building. “Let’s go.” She waited until I came around the bench to join her on the path before she began walking. “Listen . . . you should know that when Nate transitions from sitting to standing, it can be . . . awkward. Don’t look back now,” she hastened to add. “I always try to give him some space and some privacy.”

  “Good to know.”

  Gia came up on the other side of me, and after a few moments of us strolling at a snail’s pace, Nate joined us. Together, we meandered down the brick walkway.

  I only half-listened to the joking and conversation between the other three. I was too busy digesting the information I’d just heard.

  Eli Tucker was here, at this school. And he was rooming with my roommate’s best friend.

  This year had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

  Chapter Three

  Zelda

  I made it an entire week at Birch without seeing Eli Tucker. But that didn’t mean I stopped thinking about him.

  The first few days, my stomach clenched and my shoulders tensed every time I left my room. A part of me expected to run into him at each turn. The nice thing, I realized early on, was that I wasn’t likely to miss him, since there weren’t that many students rolling around in wheelchairs.

  The fact of Eli’s paralysis hadn’t come as a surprise to me. I’d heard about his injury soon after it happened, since it had made the regional news outlets. I’d actually seen footage of it happening while I was at a party. I’d been on a sofa, sitting on the lap of a football player, ironically enough. His hand was on my ass, and I knew in a matter of moments, he’d suggest we go upstairs for some privacy. And I also knew I wouldn’t say no.

  Two of the other guys had been playing a video game on the huge television. When they finished and turned off the gaming system, the eleven o’clock news was on, and one of the top stories had been the ugly, tragic hit taken by a South Jersey high school football star.

  The crack of his back breaking had rung out even over the buzz of the crowd watching the game. All of the boys sitting in the living room with me had groaned in unison, and the guy upon w
hose lap I was perched grimaced in empathy.

  Although the news showed the replay over and over again, I didn’t watch the video more than once, because right after I saw it the first time, I had to run from the room to vomit. In spite of my feelings for Eli Tucker, seeing him get hit and knowing he was seriously injured still rent my soul.

  But that had happened two years ago. I’d had a long time to get used to the idea of Eli Tucker being permanently disabled, and I was determined that he wasn’t going to take me by surprise. When I saw him for the first time here at Birch, I would be ready. As a matter of fact, to my private embarrassment, I’d spent a lot of time fantasizing about just how that meeting would go down.

  In my daydream, I strutted into the snack bar at the student life center and stepped right up to the table where my friends sat with Eli, who was of course in his wheelchair. I swept a withering glare over him before I sat down and utterly ignored him, despite his attempts to remind me about how we knew each other.

  Not that I honestly expected him to remember me. I wasn’t a fool—I hadn’t been one for three years—and I knew that Eli had had plenty of girls before me and after me. There was no reason to believe that I would be more memorable than any of the rest.

  Over our second weekend at Birch, South Jersey was hit with an intense heat wave. That wasn’t so unusual; even back home in Lancaster, we often had temperatures in the nineties well into September. Quinn, Gia and I all had tons of homework and reading for our classes, but we’d decided to do it while lying out on the expansive green that made up the center of the campus.

  I was deeply engrossed in Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez when I heard Quinn snicker. For a solid five minutes, I was able to ignore her, but eventually, I marked my place in the book with one finger and turned exasperated eyes on my roommate.

  “What’s so freaking funny that you’re interrupting my reading?”