Grid Iron Bad Boy: A Football Romance (9 page)

“
F
uck
, boys, if we want our shot at the Rose Bowl this year, we gotta start playing like we mean it!” I yell across the locker room. “Tonight was pathetic, our only saving grace was that it’s too early in the season for scouts. We gotta pull it together. This shit isn’t on!” I bang my fist into my locker.

“Whoa, dude, just chill,” Driscoll puts his meaty hand on my bare shoulder. “It was one game. Let’s just hit the party up for a few hours and we’ll regroup tomorrow. Shake it off, man!” He nods his head sagely, like he’s sharing pearls of wisdom.

“Fuck, Driscoll! Not all of us are just playing for the ‘experience’ or whatever. Some of us want to make a career out of this shit. So, shove your fucking Taylor Swift song up your ass,” I shrug him off and storm to the showers.

I quickly adjust the water and step under the rush of steamy warmth pouring from overhead. I close my eyes and try to let the shame of our defeat disappear down the drain at my feet. It clings to my skin, surrounding me like an aura.

The train wreck of a game we just had keeps running through my mind. Each terrible play. Each fumble. Every miscalculation on my part. I’m no fucking rookie, but tonight, I couldn’t get out of my own way. What the hell was wrong with me?

My gut twists up as I remember looking to the season seats I wrangled for Chelsea. The empty seats. Better off that they were empty with the game we had. No need to embarrass myself in front of her too. Yet, a small part of me wishes she was there. A small part of me was distracted by her absence. The empty seats were like a stain on my peripheral vision, drawing my eye over, ruining my focus.

The tap squeaks as I turn off the water and let the droplets drip from my body. I know it’s not Chelsea’s absence that made us lose. There’s so many other things I can point to, like a weak fucking defense. However, I can’t shake the irrational feeling that if she had been there tonight, things would’ve played out differently.

I grab my towel and press the soft cotton against my face before drying the rest of my body off quickly. Whatever. I do need to let it go, at least for tonight. What’s done is done. We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow with the coach to rehash every single wrong move we made. Tonight, it’s time to focus on having a bit of fun. I’m meeting Chelsea at Sigma in less than an hour. If our last night together was any indication, my luck is about to get a lot better.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I head back to my locker and get dressed. The guys left in the locker room are avoiding eye contact. They probably don’t want me biting their heads off. I sweep the room and see Driscoll eyeing me like a sad bulldog. I should apologize to him before he gets all upset.

I quickly get dressed and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. Clutching my iPhone, I head out the door and jog lightly to catch up with my center. We both walk out the front doors of the building into the pissing down rain.

Perfect. Why couldn’t we get a thunderstorm two hours ago when it could’ve gotten the worst game of our season cancelled?

“Hey man, sorry about the Taylor Swift dig,” I nudge Driscoll in the ribs as we walk down the front stairs together. “I know you meant well. I just needed some time to cool off,” I glance up at him.

His big cheeks round out even further in a smile and I feel better. There’s something special about the relationship between a quarterback and the center. Must have something to do with my hands being shoved up his ass all season. That and with him being a freshman, he feels like a little brother to me. I look down and swipe my thumb across my phone screen to check for texts from Chelsea.

Fat drops of rain splatter across the screen, making it impossible to read. I can see that I’ve missed some messages though. I rub the screen across my shirt, walking down the sidewalk with Driscoll toward the party.

“Aww, OK,” his face lights up with his big cartoony grin. “Yeah, no problem, it’s cool,” he slaps my shoulder and my phone jumps from my hand like it’s attached to a slinky, plopping down into a huge puddle at our feet.

“Fuck!”

“Oh, shit. Sorry man!” His face clouds back over as he quickly reaches down and scoops up my cell. It’s literally dripping wet as he hands it off to me. I watch as the screen flickers and the turns black.

“Are you serious, man? This night is total shit!”

“Hey, I heard if you just stick it in a bag of rice for a week, it’ll fix it right up. Good as new, man,” Driscoll tries to be helpful.

“Awesome,” I spit the word like it’s bitter on my tongue, jamming my useless phone into my pocket. Clenching my jaw and balling my hands into tight fists, I briskly walk to the frat house. It’s hard to imagine how this night could get any fucking worse. All I know is there’s tons of booze flowing with my name on it.

I walk in the door of the oldest fraternity house on campus and shake my head like a dog that just retrieved a stick from a lake. I flick my brown hair back from my eyes and smooth it with my hand. The scene welcoming me is already chaos.

Girls in bras dancing close to each other, putting on a good show for the guys. Dudes standing around a table doing shots, others shotgunning beers. I search the entire room, looking around the shadowy corners and quiet spots for Chelsea, but I don’t find her anywhere. Where is she?

I’ll tell you where she’s not--fucking here.

Fantastic. First we lose the game, then my phone gets ruined and now Chelsea is MIA.

I make my way to the table of hard liquor, adding myself to the group of guys orbiting around it like Saturn’s rings. “Two Jager bombs,” I instruct the young pledge in charge of keeping us inebriated for the evening. He nods and grabs the emerald green bottle, pouring the German cough medicine into a red plastic cup for me.

I toss it back like a man taking his first glass of water after crossing the Sahara. After the hard game we just ran, I can feel it muddy up my brain a bit.

Searching the room, I realize that there’s a good chance Chelsea is a no-show tonight. She might not be running late. Maybe she changed her mind about coming at all. It’s not like she seemed overly enthusiastic about meeting up here when I’ve been mentioning it to her. My eyes confirm what my gut is already telling me; she’s not here.

“Two more,” I throw my fingers up like a peace sign and the pledge splashes more Jager into my cup. Gulping it down, I watch the girls on the floor grinding up against each other. They’re such teases. They know damned well that the guys in here are taking in the show.

My head feels a bit fuzzy and I put my cup down on the table. I think I’m still dehydrated from the game. I should slow down on the liquor.

“Hey, aren’t you Armstrong?” A young raven haired girl with particularly perky tits slides up to me.

“One and the same, sweetheart,” the words pour from my mouth like the booze free flowing into plastic cups around the room.

“Come dance with us,” she looks up at me from under her ridiculously long eyelashes. I scan the room for Chelsea once more, but again come up empty. She stood me up. Disappointment washes over me and I shrug at the girl watching me. Nothing wrong with just dancing, right?

“I guess,” I trudge over to the group of girls dancing with wild abandon. I’m quickly swallowed into them as they circle around me. Tits and asses are pressing up competitively against just about every part of me. I throw my hands up over my head to try to prevent my hands from being guided somewhere they shouldn’t be. A few weeks ago, I’d have been all over them. A few weeks ago, I’d be trying to make them all my own personal harem. Tonight, I couldn’t be less interested if they were a group of grannies trying to show me pictures of their cats.

“Oh my God! Loosen up! You’re soooo tense,” the raven haired girl tries to jump up and grab my arm. She loses her balance and trips into me and I throw my other arm backward to steady myself. My flailing hand lands squarely on the tits of some nameless blonde. She smiles up at me and begins to grind up on my leg as DrunkyMcBlackHair turns around and starts twerking her flat ass against my groin.

I find my balance and my good sense. I’m out of here. I’m not feeling this scene at all tonight. Especially when all I want, all I can think of is…

Chelsea.

My eyes snap up to hers. She’s standing about ten feet inside the front door watching me. Watching them.

I stop dead. My hands drop to my sides and my heart feels like it’s stopped beating. Chelsea’s face twists up, her eyes line with tears and her beautiful lips twist down.

Fuck.

“Chelsea, wait, I can explain!” I call out and manage to untangle myself from the desperate web of need surrounding me on the dance floor.

She doesn’t wait though. She turns on her heel and quickly walks out the front door, slamming it behind her.

So, this night could get worse. It just fucking did.

“
C
helsea
, wait!” I can hear his feet splashing in puddles to catch up with me. I’m not slowing my pace and I’m not interested in talking. I keep marching down the campus hill toward the gate, my keys clutched between the fingers of my fist like they teach you to do when you have to go into a parking garage by yourself at night.

“Chelsea! For God’s sake, will you let me explain?” His fingers grasp my arm and I pull it up over my head and then yank it down to my side brusquely, breaking his hold.

“Not interested,” the words seethe out from between my teeth. “Obviously, I never should’ve bothered coming here. I mean, why did you even invite me?” I swirl around on my heel and my wet hair whips around my face, hitting me in the cheek. The blowout I went to the salon to get yesterday is being destroyed by this downpour. The cold rain is soaking my clothes, ruining my shoes and turning my bone-straight hair into ringlets.

“I wanted to see you again. I missed you,” water drips off the end of Cameron’s nose and from the ends of his brown, shaggy hair.

“You missed me? Funny way of showing me that, by humiliating me with those girls,” I turn around on my path and continue back to my car. I’m not stomping. Toddlers stomp. I’m walking with a fucking purpose.

“Chelsea, I’m not sure how long you were standing there, but one of those girls lost her balance and we all just kinda got mixed up.”

“Save it,” I chirp over my shoulder. “It was my mistake, really. I never in a million years should’ve agreed to go to a frat party, of all places. I’m not a kid,” my mind flashes to the pretty, young girls that were just grinding up on Cameron. There have been many days that I’ve told myself I don’t feel a day over twenty-two. Tonight, being surrounded by actual twenty-somethings has cured me of my disillusionment for life.

“You make it sound like you’re pushing eighty,” I don’t have to look at him. I can hear the smile in his voice. His stupid smirk. My grip on my keys tightens.

“You don’t have to be pushing eighty to know when it’s time to grow up,” I snap back. “I’m not some wide-eyed young girl, I’m a grown ass woman. I don’t have time for games, frat parties or man-children. I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” the words forming on my tongue practically burn my mouth, “when you play football all day and chase pussy all night. Playing games is probably all you know.”

“Whoa,” Cameron grabs my arm and wheels me around to face him. His smirk has finally washed away in the rain, although the clouds rolling in over his eyes now rival the ones drenching us overhead.

“I’m so sorry that when I was in Afghanistan fighting for your freedom I passed the age that you decided it’s acceptable to play football and have some fun.” I try to keep my eyes on his face. I don’t care that his shirt has become a second skin now that it’s soaked. It doesn’t matter to me that it’s painted over his abs, sinking beneath each ridge like Saran Wrap, just clinging to him.

“Whatever,” I focus my eyes and my anger back on his face. I try to pull my arm away again, but this time Cameron has a better grip and doesn’t let me storm away.

“Yeah, whatever. Perfect answer for a mature woman. So what age did you get that stick permanently wedged up your ass? Did you ever have any fun in your life? Or did you just jump straight to judgemental buzz-kill?” He frees me from his grasp, but I don’t move. His words sting and leave me dizzy. It takes a second to get my bearings before I walk out through the gate and head over to Cameron’s apartment building.

“This was a mistake,” the words nearly catch in my throat. I will not cry. At least not until I get in my fucking car with the stupid donut wheel on it and have Cameron in my rear view mirror.

“This party? Or me?” He’s relentless. Why is he still following me? “Why are you going to my apartment?” He asks. Maybe he’s not following me. Maybe he just wants to go home as much as I do right now.

“I’m not. Well, I am, but only because I parked there. I didn’t know where to park on campus,” I admit.

“I thought you stood me up,” his voice is heavy.

“Is that your excuse? I tried to call you and text you, like ten times. I guess it’s pretty obvious why you shut off your phone though,” I accuse him.

“I didn’t turn off my phone!”

“Ha!” I spit the words.

My car is only ten steps away. I want to run and close what’s left of the distance. Cut the remaining thread this night is hanging off of and never look back. However, I can hear Cameron rustling with something and for some reason, my feet stop and I watch him with curiosity. He tugs his cellphone out of his dripping wet jeans and dangles it between his finger and thumb. “Look, my phone is dead. Kaput!” He pushes on the buttons but the screen stays black and lifeless. “It got dropped in a puddle after the game. I wasn’t ignoring your calls and I sure as shit wasn’t messing around tonight. If you’d stop being so damned quick to judge everything in the worst possible light that you can, you’d already know that.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve given me much reason to think anything else,” I throw my shoulders back as I give my defense. “You and I had an amazing night together almost a year ago and then you never called me. Then, when you did finally decide to take me out, you took me on the most overplayed, generic date from your little book of lays and finally when we got that all sorted out, I come out tonight after you haven’t been answering your phone and you have a bunch of girls hanging off of you. Honestly, it’s all too much and I’m too tired to keep going over this. I was having a shit night before I even came out, so, you have a good one. I’m going home,” I slip my fingers under the door handle on my car, but my wet hand and the wet metal don’t mix. My fingers slide off the handle unexpectedly and I lose my balance. I can feel myself falling backward, my hands wildly swinging at my sides like a couple of helicopter blades. I pinch my eyes shut and prepare to hit the ground in a humiliating thud. Maybe I’ll get extra lucky and plop down in a mud puddle.

Instead, Cameron’s strong hands slide under my arms and hold me safe. I blink up at him as he keeps me leaning back, like a couple of dancers who just finished the tango.

“Uh, thank you,” I whisper, as my eyes travel over his face. His blue eyes are locked on mine and next to impossible to look away from.

His breath billows out in the cold night air, mixing with mine. Around us the rain is falling, but I can’t hear it anymore over the sound of my own heartbeat.

“Chelsea, please,” Cameron’s voice softens and his gaze travels down to my mouth. I can’t help it. I graze my teeth over my bottom lip. “Let me explain,” he helps me steady myself back on my feet, but doesn’t drop his arms from my sides. That’s OK, because I don’t try to pull away either. The warmth of his body pressed against mine, it’s as comforting as his scent is intoxicating.

“You’re right.” He pushes my ruined hair across my forehead and sweeps it off my face. “We had an amazing night last year and I didn’t call you. You know why?”

I shake my head no; afraid my words will mess up this moment. The only moment I’ve had all night worth remembering.

“I didn’t call you because I knew as soon as I did, that was it. That was the end of seeing any other girls, the end of the games. I would be settling down. For good. I knew from that first night that you were the one for me. I told you before that you were special, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer.

“Well that’s why. You’re the one for me. I knew it a year ago, I know it now. Except a year ago, I wasn’t ready to give it all up. I still had some growing up to do. But, I’m ready now. I’m ready to be with you and only you. If you would just let me.”

His words melt the layer of frost from my heart and send a rush of heat through my core. The corners of my mouth twitch up into an unexpected smile. “Yes.”

Cameron leans into me, his body shielding mine from the cold and the rain as his lips find mine. I surrender my mouth to his kiss, my body to his embrace and, deep inside, my heart surrenders to him.