Fourth Down and Dirty: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (11 page)

The following
morning, I woke up with an immense sense of guilt weighing down heavily on my
chest. I sat up and took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and fully
wake my mind up. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even checked on my mom when I got
home. There was no excuse for it.

I hopped out of
bed and threw on a light gown before walking out of my room to look for her. I
heard rummaging outside so I walked toward the backdoor to find her out on the
sun porch, repotting some plants and sporadically humming a happy tune. I
leaned against the wall and smiled. I watched her for another minute or two. I
was just so happy to see her up and moving, doing something she truly enjoyed
with minimal pain.

When she
straightened up to step out, I put on a somewhat serious face, “Mom you know
you shouldn’t be in the sun too much.” I said, knowing the sun could cause
lupus flare-ups.

I didn’t want my
mother to be in more pain than she had to be. Even though the gardening work
was great for her mental health, I couldn’t help voicing my concern. It was
something I adopted during my years of being her caretaker. Mom handled it
well, always, either by giving in or standing her ground. There was a mutual
understanding between the two of us that it was okay and valid to voice
concerns and feelings.

 
“Oh, you worry too much!” she mumbled as she
dug her hands into the soil. “You’re a college student, dear. You should be out
living your life, not just rotting away in the house with me because I’m ill.”
She turned to smile sweetly at me.

“You can’t stop me
from worrying.”

“But I can stop
you from rotting,” She said with a grin. I loved to see her in such high
spirits and back to her old spunky self. That was something that got
more rare
as time passed. “Although I may be too late on the
push to get you out there,” she went on in a sort-of sing song tone. I
immediately felt my cheeks burn. “I noticed you went straight to your room last
night.”

My mouth opened
and closed a couple times, before I placed my hands to my cheeks in vain
efforts to cool them. I knew I was blushing like a mad woman. It was obvious
something was going on in my life that I hadn’t told her about.

“I, uh. I…”

I was a stammering
wreck.

Mom laughed with a
little slap of her hand, “I’m just glad my daughter finally has a reason not to
want to look her mother in the eye.” She straightened up and looked at me
straight in the eyes with a knowing smile. “I hope to meet him someday?”

I looked at her in
shocked horror. That statement wasn’t a statement at all. It was a question.
And I didn’t exactly have an answer for her either. I could never tell her what
had happened with Landon and I. I also wasn’t sure I was willing to divulge how
we met to begin with. But, more importantly, I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit
how I really felt about him—even if I knew the truth deep down.

 
Landon had made me want to do things I would
have scoffed at before. I took risks because of him, but he pushed me just the
right amount, never too much. He had really gotten under my skin from day one,
but back then I could have never seen anything like this coming. It was all
surreal and, for that reason, there was nothing I could say to my mother. How
could I even approach Landon and invite him to dinner or something? It seemed
impossible to me.

In some ways, it
felt like I was living two different lives. The thought of having those two
lives meet felt terrifying.

 
“Um,” I said before clearing my throat. “I
have to get to class.”

Mom laughed and
waved me away, turning her attention back to the plants she was repotting. As I
got dressed for class and made sure all my things were together in my messenger
bag, a sense of relief settled on me. Any good day for my mother put me at
ease; especially when I had to be on campus all day. I pulled my hair into a
ponytail and tugged on the corners of my cardigan.

It was going to be
a full day of classes and no tutoring. I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not.
Ever since Landon started appearing on my schedule at the Tutoring Center I was
unsure what the feeling in my stomach meant. Whether it was good or bad was
still lost on me. All I knew was it only happened when my eyes landed on the
name
Landon Bryce
printed on the
daily schedule. And, every time, it would take every ounce of my self-control
not to obsess over my upcoming session with him. It always turned out to be
excruciatingly distracting when I worked with my other students. As I walked
out of the house I realized it was probably no accident he always scheduled his
sessions during my last available slot of the day.

I took my seat in
my Political Science class and waited for the room to fill up. I always got there
about ten minutes early to my first class. I liked to look over the key points
of the chapter the professor would be covering, but I was too distracted to do
that now.

My mind wandered
to him, even as the professor started lecturing. I looked out the window to
look at the football stadium. This was the first time I actually
looked
at the stadium, despite having
sat in the same seat since the start of the semester. I stared at it for a long
while, remembering my day in the stands with Landon.

Maybe it wasn’t as
ugly as I originally thought it was. Maybe the clash of the modern look to the
stadium wasn’t so bad with the old, classical buildings. It stood out. It was
different and took some getting used to, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad
thing.

I placed my chin
on my hand, elbow propped on the table, as I continued to stare at the
building. I did my best to force my memory with Landon at the stadium out of my
head. Those thoughts were
highly
inappropriate to be thinking about in class. I squeezed my legs together and
let out a little whimper, weakly disguised with a cough. I grabbed my book and
stared at the words on the page until I was no longer thinking of Landon’s face
between my legs.

I knew the big
Homecoming Game was coming up in a few weeks. The hype on campus had already
begun, but this was the first time I cared or even paid any attention to it.
Not only did I have a reason to, I actually knew someone in the game. Well, I
more than knew him.

I suppressed a
giggle and pulled out my cell phone. I hid it under the desk as I opened up the
browser and searched “Haywood University Homecoming Game.”

 
The first article I opened had a large picture
of none other than Landon Bryce running with a football in hand, sporting the
university team’s uniform. I stared at the picture. I would have never thought
a man in a football uniform, a
jock
,
would be so attractive to me. My mother was right in warning me not to easily
dismiss others based off something so superficial. Now I was finally starting
to get it.

I scrolled past
the photo and skimmed through the article, quickly becoming aware of the fact
that I was in way over my head. I knew nothing about the sport so I decided to
start by searching the different football positions. Then I looked up the rules.
I wanted to learn as much as possible before the big game, if not sooner. As I
got lost in articles, blog posts, and informational pages I couldn’t believe
how far I had gotten.

Did I actually
want to impress Landon Bryce?

I didn’t know what
had gotten into me, but I was done with the confusion and waiting around. I
needed to actually do something. My answer to that was to hop in my car and
zoom off to the Tutoring Center, obnoxiously double-parking just like I did the
first time I stormed into there. This time however I had completely different
intentions. I knew it was Ivy's day off, but there was something I needed to do
that I could only do there. I walked in and was glad to see Stella sitting at
her desk, thankfully not with a student.

Stella looked up
from what she was doing and gave me a smile. I smiled as she motioned me over.

 
“Ivy’s off today,” she chirped.

“I know,” I responded,
taking a seat next to her. She looked at me curiously.

“Umm okay. So
what’s up, Mr. Bryce?”

“I need Ivy's
address,” I said, cutting right to the chase.

Stella jerked her
head back and crossed her arms. She looked at me, clearly sizing me up before
cautioning, “She lives with her mom, you know.”

“I know, but I’m
glad to know how easily you’re telling me her whole life story,” I joked.

Stella chuckled.
“Like it’s not something you didn’t already know!” She pulled out a notepad and
scribbled Ivy’s address down, ripping the paper off and handing it to me.
“There, now you can leave me alone.” She grinned.

“What kind of
friend just gives out addresses like this? I could be an axe murderer or
something.”

Stella rolled her
eyes, "
Please
, you don't want to
kill her.” She leaned in with a smirk, “You want to fuck her and trust me, she
needs to be fucked."

I stared at her in
shock. As much as the two of us had joked around I wouldn’t have expected her
to be so direct with me—even with her outspoken and bubbly personality. I
wondered just how much she knew, but now wasn’t the time to ask, much less the
place to have that sort of conversation. I swiped the paper off the desk and
stuffed it in my pocket.

“Thanks,” I
mumbled before practically jogging out of the Tutoring Center. It was probably
for the best now not to address the last thing she said. I could still hear her
laughing as the doors of the center closed behind me.

Emboldened, I got
into my car and drove to the address. It was close to campus so it didn’t take
long. I was on the opposite side of the street so I pulled in behind a car and
turned to look at her house. I wanted to get out of my car, walk over there,
and ring the doorbell but then something caught my eye. An older woman was in the
front yard, gardening. I narrowed my eyes and shielded the sunlight with my
hand on my forehead. The woman looked happy, but looked to be moving slowly
with pain. I figured it was Ivy’s mother. For some reason I immediately got
cold feet. I wasn’t ready to march up there and talk to the woman. I didn’t
want to try and explain who I was.

I sat back in my
seat and continued to glance at Ivy’s mother as I tried to figure out what to
do next. I really wanted to see Ivy now. I watched as she dug into the soil of
a potted plant. Ivy really must have been a strong woman to be able to take
care of her mother and go to school. Not to mention, she worked at the tutoring
center with what little free time she had.

Slowly, all the
pieces started to come together in my head.

I went around in
my fancy car and touted my status. I lived without a care in the world and
whenever I had to put actual effort in to school I got pissed off. Meanwhile,
there was someone like Ivy who found strength to move forward no matter how
tough things got. I wanted to see her even more now. I felt an even greater
pull to her and was baffled that she could open up enough to be interested in a
guy like me.

I drove back to my
house and ran upstairs to my bedroom, ignoring the calls from the few teammates
hanging out in the living room. I practically slammed my bedroom door shut and
locked it. I pulled the small paper Stella gave me out of my pocket. It made me
smile. She had written Ivy’s phone number down on it even though I specifically
asked for her address. Making a mental note to thank Stella later, I grabbed my
phone and opened up my messages. I tapped the screen after entering Ivy’s
number, thinking about what to send her.

“Are you thinking about me as much as I’m thinking
about you?”
I smirked and sent it, flopping back on my bed as I waited for an answer. I
waited.

And waited.

I tossed and
turned for about a minute before finally giving up and pulling my balcony doors
open.

“Shit…” I muttered
as I stared at my phone. I was paranoid I had just made some grave mistake. My
usual cocky self probably just scared her off for good.

I stepped out and
breathed in when the cool evening air hit my skin. I slumped down on one of the
balcony chairs and rested my feet against the railing, enjoying my view of the
way the city was beginning to light up. My phone was clutched in my hand as I
waited for her reply.

If I got a reply.

Bling!

“How’d you get my number?”

I blew out a sigh
of relief and chuckled, running my thumb over my screen as I read her reply. I
could almost hear her voice. It was obvious she already knew who it was.

My thumbs quickly
went to work,
“I have connections.”

I paused wondering
if I should add a wink to the end of it, but decided not to and hit send. I
thought it was a good enough answer without having to sell out Stella. I owed
her one, after all. If she didn’t sneakily include Ivy’s number I would’ve had
to wait until I saw her again. Ivy would come up with her own idea of what my
connections were. I didn’t doubt she would link it back to my dad. That was a
fair assumption, either way. Before she could reply I sent her another message.

 
“So have
you been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about you?”
I was
going out on a limb. That was something that made me feel like a fish out of
water. I never went out on a limb for a girl.

 
“Depends
how much you’ve been thinking of me.”

I grinned down at
my phone. She was cheekier and a bit bolder through text messages. I liked it. I
wondered if I could draw out that side of her in person, but figured that was a
challenge for a later time. I didn’t want to draw it out any longer. I wanted
to get to the point and, more importantly, I wanted to see her already. I
couldn’t believe how long it felt since we last laid eyes on each other. It
felt like a century.

 
I had never felt anything even close to this
with anybody else. The confusion and the outbursts and all the true
feelings
involved were new to me, but
there was nobody else I would have wanted to go through it all with other than
her. It felt sappy and gross admitting it to myself, but it was the truth.

“Where are you right now?”
I asked. I may
not have been ready to show up unannounced at her house and confront her mother
on my own, but I certainly was ready to have her over at my place. I looked at
the glittering skyline view from my balcony and imagined her sitting beside me.
My chest tightened. My grip on the phone tightened as well.

“I’m at the library.”

“Why am I not surprised?”
I chuckled.

I could just see
her objecting and rolling her eyes at my teasing. I tapped my lips with my
finger after drafting my next reply,
“I
need help studying. Come over to my place.”

Did I really want
to send that?

Maybe she would
think I was being to forward. Maybe she’d be offended. Maybe it would all work
out and she would show up at my place shortly after.

There was only one
way to find out so I sent the message, not bothering to change it to a
question. After all, the arrogant side of me
would
tell her, not ask her. I smirked and leaned my head back
against the wall, feigning cocky confidence even though I was alone on my
balcony and a little scared of what her reply would be.

All I had to do
now was wait.