I stare into his eyes, which are cold and emotionless. He clenches his jaw. "I wasn't sure if you'd come," I say.
He shrugs. "I'm here for my grade. Nothing else." He walks past me and sits in the back of the room.
Matt looks up from his desk. When he sees Talon, I note that he quickly looks away. The whole atmosphere in the room is thick and uncomfortable. I sit in my seat sweating until Matt introduces us and says we should begin our presentation.
Talon is wooden as he hands out the flyers we printed. He sets the poster on the rim of the white board at the front of the room. Once he starts talking, I he seems animated, but I can tell he's using his television voice. He's got the plastic smile and slick tone of voice he uses with reporters in post-game interviews. As I look around the room, I don't think anyone can tell that Talon has been in turmoil. Maybe it's just me in turmoil, I think. Maybe I misread everything about his feelings for me.
When I speak, I stutter and hesitate. The research I know like the back of my hand slips from my mind and I have to page through my notes. I feel myself crashing and burning as I deliver my portion of the project. I make the mistake of looking up at Talon and feel his penetrating glare. He's angry, and I tell myself it's because I'm spoiling our presentation. Months of work for a project that's 80% of our grade, and I'm crashing and burning. Just great, Serena.
Talon takes back over, his smarmy TV voice smooth as ever. I slump beside him, watching him talk, and something shifts inside me. I become angry. I did nothing wrong here. All I ever did for the past few months is share my honest feelings with Talon Kelly. I made one dumb mistake back in January with Professor Jacobs, and then he got all handsy with me in his office.
And this is my future career! Why am I letting anything get in the way of this presentation?? When I hear my cue to speak again, I am laser focused. I smile warmly at the other students and set down my notes. I gesture to our poster, and suddenly I am just sharing information with friends. Talking about my passions. I can feel myself kicking ass. As I wrap up the presentation, the class erupts into applause.
Matt coughs and thanks us. He's in the middle of explaining that we will have an email with his comments, when Talon grabs the poster and storms out of the class.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"Tell me again what the email said." Alissa sits half propped up in her lounge chair slurping a pina colada. She nudges the pitcher closer to me with her foot.
I sigh and pour another glass, explaining again that Professor Jacobs' email to Talon and me was super weird. "It just said 'Excellent research. 100%.'"
"He's such a sleaze, Serena. I still think you should report him. What if you end up at Dartmouth?" Erin actually just found out she was accepted into the Chemistry PhD program at Dartmouth. "I sure as hell hope I don't have to interact with him when I'm there," she scoffs.
"Erin, I love you, but I'm not going to apply to Dartmouth's stats program. I don't know where I'll be going now…but it's not there." I actually owe Coach Burns a phone call. He wants to talk about the details of the Green and Gray game and needs me to tell him who to bug about getting me into graduate school. "Did I tell you guys Coach Burns offered to fly me back first class if I left a day early to meet with coaching staff before the game?"
"You said yes, I'm assuming?" Sara is still mad about sitting in the middle seat the entire flight down here. "First class a day early rather than crammed back in the fart box with the rest of the hungover undergrads. Sign me up!"
"I actually haven't gotten back to him." I hesitate. "I was going to back out of doing stats for the game."
"No." Mindy stands with her hands on hips and glares at me.
"What?"
"No. You are not throwing away your opportunities because of these men. First you change your life goal of doing grad school at Dartmouth because of some sleazebag and now you're skipping an amazing opportunity because you don't want to face Talon. Who, by the way, has no right to be angry with you and is a total baby for not even taking your calls to discuss it."
Sara and Erin and Alissa start applauding as Mindy sinks back into her lounge chair. I sigh. "I don't even really like football, guys."
"Bullshit!" Alissa slurs her speech, drunk from rum and too much sun. Alissa snatches my phone from me and before I can scramble for it back, I see that she's pulled up Coach Burns's number. She presses call and cocks an eyebrow at me. "Do you want me to talk to him or are you going to accept his offer?"
Three days later, I am back in the athletic department at SCU for a meeting with Coach Burns. I hear him in his office, growling at someone. Based on his tone, I assume it's one of the players. I decide to wait in the hall rather than knock as his voice increases in volume. I startle when I hear the door open. Coach Burns yells, "Now get the hell out of my office, Kelly, and quit being a god damn moron."
I freeze. Talon meets my eye. I catch a flicker of pain in his face before his expression turns back to stone. He begins to walk away as Coach sticks his head into the hall. "Serena! Sweetheart, I was just talking about you." He puts an arm around my shoulder and ushers me inside.
"You were talking about me? To Talon?"
He nods and sits on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, legs crossed at the ankle. "When I get a grade report and see that my star quarterback has a 100% in any class, I get real suspicious, cupcake. Claw may not be a dunce, but I don't give these boys enough free time to earn any sort of 100%."
"Our presentation was amazing, Coach, and--"
"Oh, he assured me he'd worked very hard on it. So I phoned up this professor to ask about this glowing example of statistics work from my star quarterback, and I caught a whiff of something real foul during that conversation. Now, Serena, I know I didn't fart into my good office chair. Want to tell me why I'm smelling skunk here?"
I shake my head at him.
He plows on ahead. "Kelly didn't want to talk about it, either. Want to hear my theory before we talk shop for the Green and Gray game?"
"Not particularly, Coach. If it's all the same to you, I'd really like to--"
"Tough shit, kiddo. Here's what I think, and you interrupt me if I get something wrong. Despite my better advice, you and Kelly have been bumping uglies this whole semester. You also prepared a class presentation that was probably really good, but not worthy of an A+. Am I on the right track so far?"
I nod, not meeting his eye. He inhales through his nose. "So then I have to ask why is this pansy from a fancy Ivy League school giving an A+ to my quarterback. He's just here for a few months. He's under no pressure from our boosters. Hell, the dean wasn't even sure who I was talking about when I asked if someone was telling teachers to pass my boys in the spring semester. Oh yes. I made a lot of calls about this, sweetie pie. And then I get to thinking maybe, just maybe, Talon Kelly saw something he wasn't supposed to see."
I start pulling at my cuticles, fiddling with the seam in my jeans. I feel myself flushing. Coach sets a hand on my shoulder and I look up into his face. "Serena Sanders, I have known you since the day you were conceived. You tell me right now if that professor did something to you that he ought not have done."
Once again, Coach's speech unleashes a hurricane inside me. I start sobbing and he pulls me in for a hug. "It was nothing," I whisper. "He made a pass at me, but Talon saw and he thought…" I choke down my tears and look up at Coach Burns. "He thinks I was just using him to p-p-practice so I could seduce Professor J-j-jacobs!!!"
"Come on here, Sanders." He hugs me into his chest and I smell the bubblegum and Old Spice aftershave that reminds me so much of my father. I sob all the tears I'd held back over spring break, until Coach pats my hair and says, "I'm going to take care of this."
My eyes are wild as I glare up into his face. "No. Please. I just want to forget this happened."
He shakes his head at me. "No can do, kiddo. You don't stay in business coaching D-1 football by covering up scandal. This is not my first rodeo with sexual harassment. Now, what grade do yo
u think you and Talon should have earned based on the presentation you gave. Tell me honest."
I sigh, remembering how I flubbed through the first half of my portion. "B or B+," I sigh, and Coach nods, jotting a note. He hops up and walks around to sit in his evidently-fart-free chair. "Now let's talk about Saturday, shall we?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
On game day, I wake up at 6 and slip into my official SCU staff polo. I smile at my reflection as I slide the lanyard around my neck with my stadium credentials. I duck into Alissa's room to make sure she has the pack of tickets for Erin and Sara and Mindy. CJ arranged for Alissa to sit with his parents, but I scored some 50-yard-line seats for the girls.
Coach had promised that our Jacobs Resolution, as he called it, would be as painless as possible. He made a call to the dean suggesting what had potentially happened without spelling it out. He told the dean I was not interested in pressing charges, but that the SCU Otters need to keep everything documented to avoid penalties against the team. We were assured that Jacobs would not be returning to SCU. Talon's and my grades were adjusted to B+, but neither of us had to return to class for the remainder of the semester.
Then I had sat with Coach for hours watching tape and talking to him about what I'd observed about the different players all fall semester. When he met with the stat team and the coaching staff prior to the game, he asked me to lead off the meeting discussion. I blushed, looking at the shocked face of my former advisor, who sat slack-jawed as I presented my thoughts on different player combinations.
I watch the stadium fill with fans from my place in the booth, high above the 50-yard line. My heart aches with yearning as I see Talon warming up down below, encouraging the sophomore quarterback who will be taking his place next year, regardless of what happens with the draft. I hate that I have no idea how he did at the NFL combine, that I have no idea where he's predicted to go in the draft in a few weeks.
I shake myself out of my thoughts and get to work. Suddenly, the world melts away and all that remains are the players, the game, and the numbers. The numbers that never lie. Each spiral pass that Talon throws into CJ's out-stretched hands feels inevitable, and I glow with happiness when Coach catches my eye and winks. CJ is in top form, with no hint at all of the injury that had him limping in an immobilizing brace just months earlier.
Hi is a warrior on the field, directing the other players with grace. I can see how he sees the space, reads the defense. He runs as easily as he passes the ball, once even ducking under the diving tackle attempt of a rookie who forgot that nobody is supposed to tackle the QB in the Green and Gray game. The freshman glances off Talon's sturdy body and he soars like the eagle he's named after, gaining 20 yards before being driven out of bounds.
As the game clock winds down, I decide I can't be up in the stats booth a minute longer. I have to find him. I am tired of going through my days without him. I miss the smell of him, the protective warmth of his embrace. I miss joking with him and talking about my dreams and hopes for the future. I'm running toward the locker room mentally cataloguing the reasons I miss him when I crash into someone massive.
I ricochet off the immense figure before me, skidding across the floor in my khakis. "Serena, fuck, are you ok?"
Talon, larger than life in his pads and cleats, stoops to help me to my feet. I'm so surprised to see him that I can't speak, which he interprets as me being injured. He starts to look over my body, until I say, "I'm fine. Talon, I-- I was looking for you."
He meets my eyes and says, "I was looking for you, too. I saw you in the booth today."
I touch his leg, long and hard, his thigh muscles bulging from the tight football pants. "You were better than ever out there, Talon."
He reaches out a hand to stroke my cheek and I close my eyes, a single tear leaking free and rolling down onto his thumb. "I was so wrong, Serena. And I almost lost you."
I shake my head. "You never lost me, Talon. I've been right here."
"I owe you so much more than an apology, baby. When Coach told me everything, when he explained what you had to do to get rid of that asshole Jacobs…CJ had to hold me back. I got it in my head I was going to go kill him for touching you. Then I'd get drunk and convince myself you wanted him, that you were just using me to get to him."
I try to interject and tell him he's wrong, how I never thought about any other man once I was with him, but he says, "Sshh. I know. I know I was an idiot. I know that you are all in, baby. And then that fucking scared me more, because I'm all in, too. I'm 100% here for us and I have never been more afraid of anything in my entire life. God, letting myself open up to you? That scares me more than hurting my knee ever did. And I--"
"Talon!" I put my hands on his shoulders.
He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
EPILOGUE
Six Months Later
"Sanders!" Coach Adams roars into the headset from the sidelines at Stanford Stadium.
"Right here, boss," I say, waving to him from the booth.
"You feeling good about our special teams? I don't like the looks of that punter from Notre Dame."
I smile and reassure him the numbers don't lie. A month into my PhD program, and I've already earned the trust of the coaching staff here. Coach Burns bragged about me to a bunch of D1 coaches and I ended up getting accepted into six different graduate programs. As soon as Talon was drafted by the 49ers, though, I knew I was moving to California.
I'll never forget the day of the draft, sitting at Talon's parents' house with him, watching it on television with his agent on speaker phone. He says he was more nervous telling me he loves me for the first time, but I'm pretty sure that was about as tense as I'll ever see him.
My graduate assistantship keeps me with the football team pretty much throughout the season, which means I'm not as lonely missing Talon now that he's gone all the time for practices. We moved into our bay-side condo near Palo Alto but have barely unpacked. I keep reminding Talon we have the rest of our lives to get settled in, so it's ok if we do it one box at a time.
I check my phone at half-time to see a dozen missed calls and texts from him, but I don't have a chance to respond until the game is over and I've typed up my analysis. I'm about to lock the door of my office--I still get a thrill when I see that I have my own office!--when I feel someone slide up behind me in the hallway.
"I can't wait another second to taste you," he whispers. I know it's Talon. The smell of him, minty and familiar, fills the air around me and I feel his warm hands on my arms. He pulls me against his body, kissing my neck, and I feel every hard inch of him. His chest is like granite since he's been working out with the NFL staff, and his cock presses into my lower back.
I spin around in his arms and kiss him. "Shouldn't you be watching film or getting ready for your first professional football game?"
"Mmm," he moans against my lips. "That's what I did all day. Now I need to eat and restore my strength."
I shriek as he scoops me up, my legs around his waist, and barges through the door into my office. He plunks me on the edge of my desk and pushes up the hem of my khaki skirt. "I thought we were going to get nachos tonight for old time's sake," I say, lifting my hips for him as he wriggles my panties down my thighs.
"Later, Serena," Talon whispers, sliding his tongue up the sensitive skin of my inner legs. He slides a finger along my pulsing core and finds me wet with wanting. "Oohh, you are glad to see me." He chuckles and the rumble of his throat against my soft legs leaves me quaking.
I brace my hands on the edge of the desk as Talon kneels in front of me. He drapes my legs over his shoulders and licks me, hard and deep. His tongue rakes along my folds and he slides a long finger inside me. As he strokes my pleasure center and sucks at my clit, I feel an ocean of pleasure stirring within my body. My head drops back as I moan his name, but then, wanting to see him pleasuring me, I look between my legs.
Talon meets my eyes and I feel unbelievably
turned on. Every day that passes with him, I know him more intimately. As his long fingers draw an orgasm from my body, I melt into his arms. "Come for me, baby," he says softly, and I can't help but obey him. He keeps his mouth on my clit until the waves subside and, breathless, I open my eyes.
Talon stands in front of me and reaches up to take off his shirt. His chest is magnificent. I love how his body has changed in the few months we've lived here. He tells me he loves how mine has changed, too, since I've been walking a few miles to and from campus every day. Talon says my ass has gotten rounder, with more for him to knead his fingers into.
I smile at the thought of him massaging my bottom and start to take off my clothes, too. "I want to feel you against me," I say to him. Naked, he stands in between my legs and bends to kiss me. He's so much taller than me, he can kneel on the carpeted floor and his face is just about level with my chest. I wrap my body around him, drawing him close as he moves his skilled tongue to my nipples. Running my fingers through his curls, I remember the first time we kissed, how I never knew my nipples could bring such pleasure. As Talon bites one, then the other, I cry out. "I need you inside me," I whimper. "Please, Talon."
His eyes like liquid fire, he stands and obliges my request. Talon slides into me in a single thrust that leaves me stretched and sighing. I feel him filling me and look between us to watch as he slides in and out of my quivering center. "Serena, you're so wet," he says, moving his hands along my shoulders and pushing my hair out of the way so he can kiss me.
"You make me feel so good, Talon." And then I lose the ability to speak. He pistons into my body, driving me against the edge of the desk. For a slight moment, I am aware of feeling thankful that the stadium has emptied out after the game, but then I lose my sense of reason. I'm shouting his name, biting his shoulder as I come on his cock, the second orgasm more intense than the first until Talon is fully supporting my boneless form.
Stone Creek Page 8