Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (6 page)

I
woke
up at precisely six-forty-five in the morning. I had set my alarm while Jo was showering last night, and thank fuck that I did. If we headed out by seven-fifteen, I was sure that given it was early on Sunday morning, I could get her to New Orleans before eleven, and then I’d be back in Baton Rouge just after noon.

That’s right. I was getting her all the way home. I’d already decided that back when she started bawling about the car she left at the side of the road, but little miss sunshine sealed the deal when she climbed into my bed of her own free will a few hours ago. After that, before I fell asleep, I’d come to the conclusion that Jo and I didn’t just meet by chance at the Raging Bull Saloon.

That woman was a gift from God, made just for me—specifically for my hands, my eyes, my lips and my dick. Sure, I know how sacrilegious and sexist that would probably sound if I went and said that shit out loud, but it was what I thought. Every part of her fit me perfectly. My fingertips felt like they were on fire when I touched her. My eyes couldn’t get enough of raking over every little detail on her tight little body. My lips didn’t want to stop tasting her. And my dick…well, my soldier just about turned into a compass when Jo was around, and she was my true north.

She was still curled up beside me when the alarm went off. That in itself was one of God’s small miracles because there was no girl who’d ever gotten to stay in my bed long enough to start yawning, let alone drift off to sleep beside me. With Jo, on the other hand, seeing her bright-colored hair fanned out on my pillow made me all wound up inside. I had to force myself to pull away from her so I could get up and have a quick shower. She was still asleep when I got out, so I dressed and started packing everything back in my car, except for her purse and the one suitcase she’d opened to find a change of clothes. When I was done, I walked across the street to the gas station for two steaming cups of coffee. Jo was awake and standing at the front door checking for my car by the time I got back.

“Morning, sunshine,” I greeted her, reaching inside the car to place the coffees in the dual cup holder between the front seats.

“Morning,” she yawned out.

“Making sure I didn’t run off with your shit, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, unlike someone I know with flaming red hair, a sexy ass and a wicked sinful mouth, I wouldn’t even do that for kicks.”

She rolled her eyes and went back inside, trying to hide the smile that turned up her face as she picked out some clothes to wear from her suitcase. “Do I have enough time for a shower?”

“Sure, but make it quick. We need to be on the road in ten minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Damn straight you will, because if you’re not, I might just come in there and join you.”

“Promises, promises,” she teased, taking her change of clothes with her to the bathroom.

Fuck, that got me hard. It took a shit ton of effort not to bend her over and take her again this morning. Just like she promised, she was out beside the car with her suitcase and purse in ten minutes. Her hair was dripping wet, but she knew how to stick to a schedule.

“Is this for me?” she asked, pointing down between us at one of the cups of coffee when we got her stuff in the truck and hopped inside.

I started the car and drove off. “Sure is. Take either one. I did one black and one with two creams and two sugars as I wasn’t sure what you like.”

“Cool.” She picked up the one that was black. “So how do you even know if I drink coffee at all?”

“Even if you didn’t, I’d make you have one this morning.”

“Why?”

“You slept for almost ten hours straight for the first two legs of the trip, Jo. Not that I’m complaining about the quiet, but I don’t plan on going all this way without finding out more about you. Right now, all I know is you have an acid tongue, you cry way more than you think you do, you can drive a stick shift…not that I needed that little stunt of yours to find that out, and you have a cousin and a sister but no one else. Wait. I also know you’re sexy as sin and you make my dick hard.”

“That last part’s more about you than me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. So tell me. Start wherever you want and give me the story of Jo.”

Well, Jo told me everything. When I say everything, I mean every major milestone in the twenty years of her short but unbelievably eventful life. By the time she took a breath she hadn’t realized I’d already passed Baton Rouge and was half an hour from New Orleans already. All I wanted to do was stop the car, pull to the side of the road and cry. I hadn’t cried since I was eleven when my first pet gecko died. Jo’s story made me want to sob, and get on the ground and weep like she did. It was no wonder to me now that she’d broken down twice in my car.

Her life was not a country song.

It was a whole goddamned country album.

No. Not even that.

It was the best ever all-time greatest hits.

All she needed was to own a dog and have it run away, and she could probably phone up Garth Brooks and Dolly Parton, and give
them
inspiration.

It made me take a second to appreciate how easy I’d had it in my own life and taken everything for granted up until now. By the time she was finished I felt guilty for having had it so damn easy when she’d had nothing but pain, sorrow, poverty, death and heartbreak. Everyone she cared about—and that was all of three people—was on the other side. I couldn’t even talk about it.

I let a few minutes pass before I asked her for her sister’s address.

She shook her head. “Never mind about that. Just let me off at the bus station like we talked about.”

“We’re twenty minutes from New Orleans, Jo. Give me the address and I’ll drop you off.”

She peered outside, looking around the freeway for signs. “We’re here already? You didn’t have to drive all this way for me.”

“It’s fine.” I pulled off at the next exit and stopped. “What’s the address? I’ll get it into my GPS so we don’t get lost.”

She got her phone and searched for it, then rattled off the details, still shaking her head. “You really didn’t have to do this for me.”

I put the address in and got the directions launched on the GPS, then I got back on the highway. “I know.”

“Well now I owe you.”

“Naw. You don’t.”

“How do you reckon that?”

“Think of it as Texas hospitality. Plus from what you just shared with me about your life story, you need a whole lot of good stuff happening to drown out all of what you’ve been through. Maybe your luck will change here in Louisiana.”

“Maybe.”

Jo was pretty quiet the rest of the way. I made it off the exit ramp to the Gentilly area where her sister lived and she began to check out the area, mentioning she would be on the job hunt and would need to find something within walking distance to start.

She turned to look over at me when I stopped in front of her sister’s walk-up apartment building. “Well, this is it. I don’t know how to thank you for the help, Chris, so I’ll leave it at, thank you for the help.”

“You’re welcome.”

She tried to give me some rolled up twenty-dollar bills to cover gas and all that, but I pushed back her way and got out of the car to take her things inside.

She stopped me when I got up to the entrance. “Hey. It’s okay. We can stack everything at the bottom of the steps and I’ll take it in. My sister and her boyfriend are probably still sleeping. I don’t want to have them think I just got here and am already bringing men home.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.” When I got everything out of the car, the damn thing looked empty with just my duffel bag and empty food containers. I didn’t want to stretch out the goodbye. I stuck my hand out for a handshake. “You take care of yourself in the Big Easy, Jo.”

“Thanks, cornerback. Good luck.”

I got back in my car, drove away and found the highway for my trip back to Baton Rouge. I smiled all the way there. I was going to see her again, even if she didn’t quite know that yet.

I
never thought
that talking about all of the events that had happened in my life up until now could be this cathartic. I’d never had anyone new to tell, so Chris was my first foray into what I envisioned would happen at a therapy session. At least it did by my estimation, because I wasn’t ever going to find that out about counseling first hand. Therapy wasn’t something we did in my neck of the woods. What we did was drink, cuss, carry on, toss shit, dance to country music, maybe do target practice at the gun range or out back, and yes, we fucked to let off steam. Sometimes we did all of that at the same time.

I also didn’t conceive of a possibility where I could enjoy a stranger’s company that much. Mind you, I slept for two-thirds of the way. And I hadn’t given myself time to muddle through pros and cons of driving that kind of distance with a stranger in the first place. I’d been given all of a few minutes to decide before I’d accepted his offer to get me here. Now I was here. The time had flown by, and he was off to get back to his life. I kind of missed him. I’d surely remember the mind-blowing sex.

Shit.

I forgot to get those pictures he’d taken of my old car before leaving it behind.

That sucked.

For a second I figured if I really, really wanted to find him, I probably could. What did I know about him? Well, his first name, the car he drove, and that he was an SEC cornerback in Baton Rouge. My cousin back in El Paso would probably know about him. Or I could look him up.
If
I really wanted to. Given I was in a new town, moving in with my virtually estranged sister, and would be on the job hunt come tomorrow, getting the 4-1-1 on Chris wasn’t at the top of my priority list.

If I had any idea I’d be here in New Orleans this soon, I’d have phoned my sister. There was just the one text that I’d sent before leaving town, and at that time, my anticipated destination was three to four days, not less than a day. This was one of the reasons I didn’t invite Chris up. She would be shocked to see me. I didn’t want her embarrassing me any more than I already was.

I pulled out my phone to send her a text, but before I unlocked the screen, my sister, Rose, was at the building entrance.

“Look who it is,” she said, coming down the steps with a smile on her face. She hadn’t changed a bit. She still wore her hair in the same shoulder-length, blonde bob with bangs that were a bit long but perfect for her heart-shaped face. Rose was maybe a couple of inches taller than me, but she was one of those skinny chicks who could eat anything and never gain a pound. I used to be so jealous of those slim hips and tiny ass.

“Hi Rose. I’m a little early.”

“I see that. Girl, you look exactly like when I last saw you. When was that? Three years ago?”

“Four and a half.”

“Well shit. It feels like yesterday. My God, Jo. Look at your hair!”

I reached my hand up into it. “What? Is it that bad? I didn’t blow dry it after my shower this morning. It’s a mess, ain’t it?”

“Well, besides that. Look at the color. You look so much like Momma, honey.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. That’s why I never colored it.”

“I think you should, but maybe not for a bit, so I can look at it for at least a while.” She looked at my stuff then looked at me. “The car didn’t make it, I see.”

“Naw.”

“But I saw the ride you rolled up in. Jesus, Jo, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh about the car? Sorry it happened on the way here.”

“No, no. Not about the car, about Chris James dropping you off at my front steps.”

Now I had a full name. Cool.

“What, you know him?”

“Anyone in the State of Louisiana who watches college football knows Chris and his whole team. The guy’s a big name. He’s huge. Well, maybe not as big as Slade Clark or Evan Marshall, but he’s up there. How do you know him? Are you two dating or something? Shit, if Mike were home right now he’d have been out here like lightning to meet him.”

Mike, Rose’s live-in boyfriend, was an A-grade asshole. I was glad he wasn’t around today. He and my sister got together in high school senior year, and I never liked him. He cheated on my sister every other week, got high on drugs whenever he wasn’t at work, and the rumor was he’d slept with so many hookers he’d given Rose at least one STD over the years. Even my Aunt Alice disliked him, and she loved everyone. Part of me was happy when they’d moved out here because it meant I wouldn’t have to see his sick perverted face every day. I didn’t have a clue what Rose saw in him.

Their sorry excuse for a relationship was the reason I never let myself fall for any guy. Gratuitous protected sex. The more casual, the better. That was my philosophy, if I could call it that. That philosophy of mine didn’t mean that I slept with guys all the time. Far from it. I usually had my head down, working and saving for a rainy day. It was only once in a while that I put my priorities aside and took care of my urges.

“Are you dating Chris James or what, Jo?” she repeated while I was on my inner rant about Mike.

“No. We’re not dating. You know I don’t date. I barely know him, actually.”

She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to you to have a hook-up with a guy every woman wished she could have and every man wishes he could be like.”

I shrugged and looked up at the building. “So what floor do you live on?”

“Don’t go changing the subject so fast. He gave you a ride from El Paso?”

“Yeah. The car broke down near Horizon City.”

“And he just picked you up and brought you and your stuff here?”

“Pretty much. Well, I did meet him the night before at the Raging Bull Saloon.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, raising her hand to stop me. “Back up a bit. You met Chris for the first time two nights ago?”

“Yes.”

“And he picked you up at the side of the highway and brought you all the way here?”

“That’s exactly what happened. Why? What’s the big deal?”

“So you fucked him, right?”

“Rose, since when are you so interested in sports or my sex life? Oh God, please tell me we’re not gonna start doing girl talk and shit, okay? Because I think I’d almost rather live in a homeless shelter and have someone gouge my eyes out while I’m sleeping.”

“You fucked him. You did! Was it good?”

I looked at my stuff on the sidewalk and wondered whether a taxi driver would be willing to take my stuff the hell out of here. This chick may have looked like Rose, and her voice may have sounded like Rose, but she was not the sister I knew and resented four and a half years ago.

“Are you sure you’re twenty-three and didn’t get put in a time machine and sent back to when you were twelve? I don’t mean to start off our reunion like this, sis, but you’re really scaring me right now.”

She giggled. “Stop messing around with me and tell me about Chris.”

“Chris is just a guy who felt pity for me, and did me a solid by giving me a ride here, okay? Forget about Chris. What I need is my big sister. The one who can tell me where to put my shit and how to take public transit so I can get situated and have a job by the end of the week. Have you seen
that
Rose? Because I need
her
to help me.”

“Awww hell. You always did clam up when you had juicy stuff you could be sharing.” She grabbed a suitcase and dragged it up the steps. “Bring whatever’s most valuable inside first. This ain’t the best neighborhood.”

I followed her inside with my framed photos, leaning it up inside the main floor common hallway before running back out for the suitcase, then the plastic containers. My purse was cleaved to my side the whole time. I wasn’t letting that out of my sight.

We got everything up to the second floor and she showed me inside and to my room. Okay, it was not exactly a room. Rose and Mike lived in a one-bedroom apartment. They had the only bedroom. My ‘room’, was less than half of the tiny living room. Either she or Mike had found one of those Japanese room dividers for privacy. They’d moved the loveseat in front of it and put a sofa bed on the other side for me to sleep, with space on the side for me to swivel one section and use it as a door. There was a metal rolling clothes rack in one corner, and a chest of drawers beside it, leaving just enough room to open up the sofa bed when it was time to sleep.

That was it.

I looked at the approximately eight feet by nine feet space. It wasn’t that bad, to be honest. It was something. A place for me to lay my head, and just enough space to maybe put up an easel in the corner and paint. It even had a window, so who was I to complain?

“This is perfect,” I told her, turning to give her a warm hug. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me get on my feet.”

She accepted the hug for a second then she pulled out of my grasp. We weren’t a very affectionate bunch. “No problem at all. You’re family. Besides, you’ll be paying a third of the rent, so it’ll all work out in the wash.”

I saw that part about paying rent coming from a mile away. I was ready for that. Rose and Mike both had pretty good jobs. Mike worked on an offshore oil rig and Rose was a receptionist at the University. In spite of all that, I had no delusions. I had to pull my own weight from the get go.

“Of course. How much is that going to be?”

“Five seventy-five.”

“Split between the three of us? That’s easy.”

“No, honey. Five seventy-five each.”

My eyes just about fell out of my head. “For this? You’re paying seventeen hundred dollars for this tiny place?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How the hell is that possible?” The seven thousand dollars that I thought could last me a year or more was suddenly going to be used up in eight or nine months. I was close to panicking. Forget panic. I was hyperventilating.

“We’re fifteen minutes from the main college campus, love. It ain’t cheap.”

“But you said it wasn’t that great of an area.”

“It ain’t.” She clocked my new-found anxiety and patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Being this close to the campus means you’re more likely to find work. There’s a whole lot of coffee houses, diners and family restaurants nearby, so you’ll have something in no time.”

“All right.”

I sucked in a breath and started getting my things unpacked and put away. Rose went back to her room to relax. I was all situated before two in the afternoon. I still couldn’t shake the uneasiness about all my savings wasting away on rent in such a short time. The only way that feeling was going to leave the pit of my stomach was when I had a job that could cover at least the rent, food and transportation. I had to get something, and fast.

My clothes were now hung up on the rolling rack. I studied which outfit would work best to get out this afternoon and start lining up places where I could apply. Coffee houses were less appealing because it meant I’d earn fewer tips. My best bet was to waitress at a decent restaurant where I could sweet-talk my way to big tips if I had to.

As I stood there deciding on what to wear, I heard my phone beep with a text. Fishing around in my purse, I found it and checked the number. It wasn’t anyone I had in my contact lists. I checked the message and shook my head, smiling.

It was Chris.

Cornerback.

‘
How’s it going in the Big Easy, little miss sunshine?
’

I knew it was him but I still replied with,

‘
Who is this?
’

My smile widened when the reply that came back read,

‘
Your white knight, sweet thing.
’

‘
How the hell did you get my number?
’

‘
I have a curious streak, Josephine Odette Celia Quinn.
’

Crap.

The son of a bitch went through my purse and found my driver’s license? I threw the phone down on the sofa beside me and quickly reached for my bag. Digging through it, I saw my wallet was still there, as well as the only cash I had to my name that had to last me until I got a job and my first paycheck. Okay, so he wasn’t a thief, but he still took this too far.

‘
Not funny, you no-good creepy bastard.
’

‘
There’s that mouth. As dirty as it is sweet.
’

‘
That wasn’t nice, searching thru my shit like that.
’

‘
You’ll be glad I got your number eventually.
’

‘
Whatever.
’

Actually I was pretty darned tickled to see his message, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him that.

‘
Are you back in Baton Rouge yet
?’

‘
Yeah. Had a nap too.
’

‘
Good.
’

‘
Tell me something.’

‘Something like what?’

‘Have you said a single berating comment since you woke up this morning?’

I thought about it. I don’t think I had.

‘No.’

‘That’s cuz I rubbed off on you.
’

‘
If you say so.
’

‘
Have a good evening, beautiful. Call or text me anytime.
’

‘
See you, Chris.
’

I put the phone down and went back to picking out clothes. I was still anxious as hell about finding work and paying my way, but my head was soaring. Good old cornerback Chris had taken the time to make sure we wouldn’t lose touch.