Juked (20 page)

I sneak up on her and kiss her on the neck, startling her.

“Oh!” she says, holding a hand across her chest. “You scared me!”

“Sorry.” I lead her out of the tunnel toward the parking lot. “You were awfully engrossed in your phone. What were you looking at?”

“Nothing exciting,” she says dismissively. “Just catching up on my soccer trivia.”

“Oh, really,” I say with a smile. “Learn anything exciting?”

She shrugs.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yeah, it was good,” she says. Her enthusiasm doesn’t quite match what she’s saying. “Is that guy who got hurt all right?”

“Marshall, our sweeper?”

She gives me a questioning look.

“The guy who plays right in front of the goalie?”

“Yeah, him,” she says. “It seemed he was in a lot of pain.”

“We soccer players always look like we’re in pain. It’s part of the game.”

She snickers. “I have noticed that most of you are a bunch of babies on the field. Even the tiniest bump throws you into some serious dramatics.”

I smile, because she’s right. “Hey now. Games are made on penalties. If we can get the ref to yellow-card someone for a tiny bump, we’ve done our job right.”

During the drive home, I notice that Quincy is unusually quiet. Normally the conversation flows freely.

“Where’s Chance tonight?” I ask, trying to get her to open up.

“He’s having some Aunt Geni time,” she says. “She seems to think I needed to get some uninterrupted sleep for once.”

I chuckle and stop at a red light. “You’re spending the night at my place, right?” She nods. “Then Geni picked the wrong night to babysit, because you won’t be getting much sleep.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. She smiles back, but it’s not the wide open grin she normally throws my direction. I accelerate through the green light. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, why?”

“I get the impression you have something on your mind,” I hit the highway and we zip toward the exit to my apartment building. “Are you worried about the baby?”

“What? Oh no!” she says with a wave of dismissal. “I’m just distracted is all.”

We are silent while I park in the lot at my building. My place is only ten minutes from the stadium. It’s not the fanciest apartment complex, but rent in Houston is really expensive, especially inside the loop. I’m lucky I can afford it. Not all soccer players can. I’m pretty sure the rookies are all driving from at least thirty minutes away and have roommates.

“So here we are,” I say, turning off the engine.

“No underground parking with a secret passcode to get in?” she jests. “I’m shocked there’s not more security.”

I snicker. “Professional soccer players don’t need much security in the States. In Europe or South America, hell yeah, but here, people are more interested in football players.” I get out of the car and make my way around to the other side. She’s already climbing out, but I take her overnight bag and hand when she shuts the door. “I have an alarm and everything. Can’t be too careful. But I’ve never had any problems.”

It’s the first time she’s been here. “Hm,” she says, taking it all in. “I’m surprised. A super famous athlete like yourself, I’d expect at least one crazy fan stalking you.”

“I’m sure I’ll have one eventually, but right now, I don’t think my neighbors even know what I do for a living.”

We walk up the steps to my second floor apartment and I unlock my door, pushing it open for her. I step in behind her. After disarming the security system, I put the bags in my room and give her a chance to acclimate to this new environment.

“You have a really big family,” she says when I come back into the room.

She’s looking at one of the last pictures taken as a family before my dad left. I try not to look at that photo very often. It’s missing a couple of my nieces and nephews, and my dad’s in it. I’m not really sure why I keep it, but the thought of taking it down gives me anxiety, so I leave it on the shelf and ignore it.

“I feel bad that you haven’t talked to them since we were there.”

“Don’t. They were out of line, Lalo especially.”

She puts the frame down. “They were just looking out for you. They’re your family. You don’t want to lose them over someone like me.”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What do you mean, someone like you?”

She walks to the window that looks out over the pool. “What are we doing here, Daniel?”

I cock my head. “We’re hanging out.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

I straighten, not quite sure what to say. If this is the commitment discussion and how she needs more, it’s really gonna suck. I can’t give her that, which means this will have to end, and I don’t want it to end yet.

“Quincy, I… I thought we were having fun,” I say quietly. “I can’t give you any more right now.”

She sits on the couch, a look of frustration on her face. “We haven’t been dating that long, and we’re both busy. Hanging out is fine. I just….”

“What?” I ask, sitting next to her. “I’m kind of confused.”

“So am I.” She blows out a breath and clasps her hands, resting them between her knees. “I sat next to this girl Tiffany at the stadium.”

“Uh-huh.”

She whips her head up to look at me. “You know her?”

“Everyone knows her. She comes to all the games and parties with the team.”

Quincy stares at me. Her expression is a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. “You… you know her?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

She averts her eyes. “She’s a groupie, right? And she does groupie things.”

“Hold on.” I feel really stupid. I should have known what she was getting at. “Quincy, I know Tiffany, but I don’t
know
Tiffany. Not intimately.”

“You don’t?” she asks, looking relieved.

“No way. I’ve heard the stories about what goes on between the groupies and my teammates. Even walked in on things a couple times, but that whole scene… it’s not my thing at all.”

“It’s not?”

“Oh, hell no,” I say firmly. “I have
never
been part of that scene. Can you imagine if that got out to the press? My mama would have my ass if I got involved with stuff like that.” She smiles. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prince by any stretch. I’ve enjoyed my fair share of women, but not those ladies.”

“Since we’re on the topic, what kind of women have you had your fair share of?” She looks at me, and I know I’ve dodged a bullet with the groupie talk, but I have a feeling the serious conversation isn’t quite over yet.

I relax into the back of the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Mostly it’s been fans, almost like groupies but only looking for a normal one-night stand. None of that kinky voyeuristic shit, and never the same one twice. It’s very clear from the beginning it’s no-strings-attached sex, and I never see the person again. I usually don’t even know their name.” I feel a little embarrassed. “It works for me.”

She gets quiet. I can practically hear the wheels moving in her head, so I give her time to process.

She gestures between us. “You know my name. We’ve had sex multiple times. We see each other all the time. I’m not asking for a defined relationship, but I need to know. What is this?”

“You need to know I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

“Yes.” That single word rushes out of her in a deep exhale. “I hope that doesn’t sound crazy or relationship-y, but I can’t be doing this if it’s not monogamous. It’s not how I’m wired.”

I understand. “I won’t define this because I honestly don’t know how. I genuinely like you as a person. You’re my friend. But I’m also very, very attracted to you in a more than friends kind of way. So if it’s okay with you, I want to keep doing what we’re doing.” I wink at her, and she punches me playfully in the arm.

“That makes sense,” she says. “I feel the same way. Like we’re friends with benefits, but that’s not quite it either. Just do me a favor, please.”

“What’s that?” I ask, wrapping a lock of her hair around my finger. All this sex talk combined with the high of today’s win is making me horny.

“If you end up seriously attracted to someone else, or if you hook up with a groupie on the road, please respect me enough to let me know. I like being friends with you, and that can’t happen if you’re sleeping with more than just me. That feels disrespectful to me, and I just can’t do it.”

“I promise,” I say and lean toward her. “But I don’t see that happening any time soon. There’s something freeing about our situation, don’t you think? We enjoy each other’s company. The sex is fucking fantastic. I don’t feel the pressure to make nice with other people so I can get laid.”

She laughs and grabs the back of my head, pulling my face toward hers. “You’re such a pig.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” I kiss her, gently at first, then taking it deeper when she starts to moan against my lips. I feel like this conversation didn’t exactly clarify what is happening here but gives Quincy the peace of mind that I won’t lie or cheat on her. And really, what else does a woman really want?

I finally break away when I feel the hunger pangs in my stomach. “Since you’re here for the night, let’s eat. Wanna watch some Netflix and chill? I’m sure I can find some more high-budget porn for us to watch.”

She snort-laughs, but she doesn’t protest.

Not when I bake a frozen pizza for us to eat.

Not when I actually turn on Netflix so we can actually chill.

And not when she rides me on my couch, back arched, tits bouncing in my face until she’s satisfied multiple times over.

I’d say this arrangement works for the both of us. Whatever it is.

“I
can’t believe Daniel convinced me to do this,” I grumble as I push a stroller, carry a collapsible chair over my shoulder, and drag a small cooler through the crowd, trying to find his sister Blanca.

The sister I’ve only met once. The sister that stood there while her other brother berated me.

But Daniel agreed to be in his nephew’s high school Homecoming Parade as the Master of Ceremonies and he thought the baby would enjoy it, so here we are.

I sigh. “Okay, Lucky Ducky. Let me know if you see her,” I say to Chance, lifting one shoulder to keep from dropping the chair on my toe again. I feel like an idiot bringing so much stuff with me, but it’s October in Houston. That means it’s hot and humid, so I needed a lot of supplies. I’ve read that babies can dehydrate very quickly, and there wasn’t enough room in the bottom of the stroller to pack diapers, wipes, changing pad, change of clothes, toys, formula, sunscreen, hats, and several bottles of water.

I’ve turned into a freaking pack mule.

The front wheels of the stroller get caught on a crack in the sidewalk that isn’t level, and I almost face-plant us both when the stroller stops suddenly. I’m sure I look like a fool, but it works to my advantage because that’s what catches Blanca’s attention.

“Quincy!” she shouts from her location and waves both hands at me. “Quincy, we’re over here!”

I take a deep breath. “Here we go, little man,” I say quietly and plaster a smile on my face. It’s not that I’m upset to be hanging out with Blanca while we watch the parade, but I can just think of a bunch of other ways to spend my Saturday morning, especially when I have to work this afternoon.

“I’m so glad you found us,” Blanca says, wrapping me in a hug. “The crowd can get pretty big at this thing, surprisingly enough.”

I reach over my shoulder, collect my chair, and unfold it next to hers. “For a high school homecoming parade, I’m pretty impressed by how many people are here.”

She gathers the cooler and rolls it in between us. “I know. You wouldn’t think people would be so interested. I suspect it has less to do with the parade and more to do with the whole Texas high school football rivalry thing.”

I sit and pull out a bottle of water. She’s right. High school football is huge in this area. There are local TV shows dedicated to analyzing the games. I’ve never quite understood it, but it doesn’t surprise me either.

“I’m glad you could come,” she says.

“Thanks.” I smile at her and then, feeling very uncomfortable about the lull in the conversation, get Chance out of the stroller.