SPIKED (A Sports Romance) (10 page)

“But Jacob, the NFL is a big deal. And now with this injury—“

Jacob looked away, jaw tight, and I stopped speaking. He already knew what I was thinking, clearly: That his injury might mean the years of training, of work, of abandoning all other goals, might all be for nothing.

“I’m still gunning for the NFL until the day they refuse me,” Jacob said firmly. “And if they do, on that day I guess I’ll be forced to come up with a backup plan.”

I nodded faintly. “I just…it seems really risky, Jacob.” I meant professionally, sure, but also, personally. Football was so tied to who Jacob was— it made him the king, the champion, the Harton hero. It was the reason he had his swagger and his body, the reason he had so much experience with women and had leaned to be a great leader. I supposed he’d still be Jacob Everett without the sport, but it felt like we were talking about cutting out a part of him rather than what might happen if he couldn’t play a sport anymore.

Whoa, I thought to myself. Piper was right. You really do learn that football is life when you go to school here.

“Look,” Jacob said. “Let’s order something to eat. I don’t want to go out, not when there’s still a good chance someone will spot me. We can chill here all day. I’ll send one of the freshmen by your apartment to pick up some stuff for you, if you want.”

“I can’t,” I said.

“Why?” Jacob asked, looking almost offended.

“Because I have another class today, Jacob,” I said.

Jacob sighed heavily. “It’s one day, Sasha.”

“It’s my NFL, Jacob.”

Jacob was quiet for a moment, then smiled at me— a frustrated smile, but a smile all the same. “Fine, fine. Take the car. Go to class.”

I nodded, wondering if Greene would be thrilled to know Jacob had lent out his car. “Before I go though, I need something.”

“What?”

I grinned. “Your phone number. And I’ll trade you for mine.”

J
acob was
out for four weeks.

I was pretty certain watching the team go on without him— lead by Adams, who was now even more widely considered the upcoming Harton hero— had to sting, but Jacob never wanted to talk about it. I couldn’t blame him; he spent more or less every second of his life focused on football. Now that he was out for four weeks, why spend this painfully stolen time with me discussing it?

And that was very much what our time together was— stolen. We didn’t go on dates or appear in public or sit on the quad together. Jacob would simply pick me up, occasionally, and we’d slip away to his apartment or another alumni condo or, once, to the “Emerald Room” at the alumni resort. It was fun, in some ways, sneaking around— though Piper and Kiersten were impossible to hide from. That was why I was so surprised when they invited me along to a party at Football House one Thursday night.

“Seriously?” I asked, perplexed. I put my textbook down.

Piper shrugged. “I mean, didn’t your fuck buddy invite you anyhow?”

I didn’t take the bait— I would neither confirm nor deny my relationship with Jacob, thank you very much, and he didn’t invite me because I’d made it very clear that Football House just really wasn’t my thing. “Why are
you
inviting me, though?” I asked instead.

Things had gotten chilly again between us, and I trusted Piper about as far as I could throw her…with a linebacker on her shoulders for good measure.

Piper sighed dramatically. “I don’t know. Kiersten said we should. Mend fences or whatever. So do you want to come?”

No, not really— but Piper had a point. Maybe going to the party could mend some fences, especially now that Piper and Kiersten, like many of the women on campus, had become focused on Adams (who Jacob reported
did
have a different girl suck him off before each game— Adams apparently called it a quarterback tradition).

“Yeah, sure. I’ll get ready fast,” I said, and put my book down. I did myself up as quickly as possible, given the irritated tap of Piper’s heel in the hallway. When I finally emerged, I was wearing a lavender sundress with a cute cardigan I’d bought offline. I definitely looked more like a librarian than the other two girls, who looked like cocktail waitresses, but whatever. I liked librarians. And besides, I was the one who’d been learning a book’s worth of new sex positions from Jacob Everett.

Football House was much the same as the first time I’d seen it— though now that nights were a tiny bit cooler (or rather, were warm rather than insufferably hot), more people spilled out onto the deck, the drive, and into the back garden where I had watched Jacob take another girl so many weeks ago. Seeing that spot made me smile, made my stomach twist pleasantly— that girl had him before me, sure, but it was me he’d kept coming back to.

For a moment, I found myself drawn to a fantasy where Jacob bent me over the garden bench, just like he’d done with the other girl; I’d slip my skirt up and we’d be surrounded by the smell of jasmine as he pumped into me—

“There he is,” Piper whispered to Kiersten. I followed their line of sight to where Adams was standing— right by the kegs, leaning against the wall, surrounded by admirers. It was so similar to how Jacob had looked the first time I met him that my eyes widened. Where was Jacob, I wondered— but almost as soon as I thought that, I spotted him outside, near the drive. He was with a collection of people, mostly other football players and a few hangers-on. Jacob was still clearly popular and loved, but it was nothing like the court of admirers he’d once held.

“I’m going to get Adams for this Saturday,” Piper said hungrily. She gave me a wry look. “I hear he’s got an eleven-inch cock, you know.”

“Is that…possible?” I asked. It was a serious question— Jacob’s was already so big, I couldn’t imagine adding another two inches.

Piper laughed brightly. “Yes, but not everyone would have the skill to suck it like me.”

She flounced off toward Adams, sidling in beside him. She clearly wasn’t playing the slow game, like she had with Jacob— I watched her lean in and whisper something in Adams’ ear. He smiled, rose, and lead her away from the porch.

“Wow,
nice
, Piper,” Kiersten said to no one in particular, looking truly impressed.

“Have
you
ever had sex with someone that has an eleven-inch cock?” I asked.

Kiersten laughed. “Oh, honey. Of course I have. Honestly, at that point it’s less about the size and more about how he uses it. I’m curious to see if Adams knows how to work that tool. Want to sneak a peek?”

“Um—“

“Oh, come on. It’s just Piper. Besides, at the rate Adams is going, he’ll have had sex with both of us by the end of the month. He’s going to blow past Jacob Everett’s record in no time.”

Frankly, I didn’t want to watch Piper have sex with anyone, but Kiersten was already pulling me down the hall, certain about their destination. And, truth be told, I was curious about how different an eleven-inch cock really was from a nine-inch one. It couldn’t hurt to pry a little, right? I saw Jacob was still occupied with the players down below— he didn’t know I was coming, so it wasn’t like he’d miss me.

“They’ll be in here,” Kiersten said as we went upstairs, down a long hall. A door was cracked and, sure enough, I could hear the sounds of someone moaning inside.

“Damn, he gets right to the point, huh?” Kiersten giggled, then stepped up first to look around the door. From my position, I could see through the space in the door frame between the hinges. It was clearly supposed to be a bedroom, but had been repurposed as something of a library— though all the books on the shelves seemed to be football related. There was a wide couch in the middle, which is where Piper and Adams were.

Piper was on top, naked; Adams was still dressed, save his pants being tugged down. He had a sly smile on his face, and had his hands behind his head, watching her breasts bounce as she rode him hard. Piper’s body was flawless— tanned and toned and entirely unlike mine— and she was sweating lightly from the work.

Adams shifted, suddenly, and turned over; he didn’t move Piper around, command her the way that Jacob did me— the way I liked so much. Rather, he simply repositioned her and kept going, an almost bored look on his face.

“She’s totally faking it,” Kiersten whispered. “I know her faking it face.”

“That
is
eleven inches though,” a new voice said. Me and Kiersten nearly jumped right into the bedroom where Piper was now most assuredly faking a loud, long orgasm. It was Jenna— the girl from the bar where I had met Jacob a million years ago. She grinned devilishly.

“How long have they been in there?” she asked.

“A few minutes,” Kiersten said cautiously.

Jenna rolled her eyes a little. “I think he’s just trying to get a rise out of Jacob, fucking all his former favorites right here in front of him.”

“Is it working?” I asked.

Jenna shrugged. “You’d have to ask Jacob.” She leaned in closer, studying Piper and Adams. “Yeah, it’s eleven inches, but I’d rather take Jacob’s nine any day. He knows how to use it.”

I blinked at her words.

It was one thing to know abstractly that Jacob was incredibly experienced. But something about hearing Jenna say this— pretty, popular, cute Jenna— made my throat dry. Had Jenna and Jacob had sex? It was possible. I had to know.

“So, you and Jacob have…” I began.

Jenna and Kiersten exchanged a sort of confused glance, then Jenna said, “We were together, for a while.”

“The school’s golden couple. Football star and soccer diva,” Kiersten said.

“Oh,” I said. That’s right— Jenna was one of the athletes. And they’d been in that photo together…

“You two should get back together. You were adorable,” Kiersten went on.

“We’ll see,” Jenna said, smiling. I forced my face to stay blank. I didn’t feel like I had any right to be upset— for starters, no one knew that Jacob and I were anything more than perhaps a hookup or two, and neither of us had even truly confirmed THAT. Plus, even though I was certainly exclusive with him, Jacob and me had never really discussed whether or not we were exclusive. And lastly…this was Jenna. She was tiny and cute and had a million things in common with Jacob. They had a history. They had a relationship.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” I said, and hurried away. Kiersten said something in response, but I was moving too fast to hear it. I wanted to talk to Jacob, but didn’t feel right running up to him in the middle of a party, pelting him with relationship questions.

“You again,” the bartender said as I walked up.

“Me again,” I answered. “Something that looks like it has alcohol in it, but doesn’t, please.”

The bartender’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you aren’t pregnant, are you?”

I scowled. “No, I just don’t want to drink.”

“Respect,” the bartender said, smiling and preparing me some sort of clear beverage in a rocks glass. “The only reason half the people here get drunk is so they have an excuse when they hook up with the wrong person. Which is my nice way of saying I saw Piper go upstairs with Adams, and they’re both in the wrong on that one.”

“They’re having a great time, though,” I said sarcastically, and the bartender laughed.

“That’s bold of Adams, anyway. There’s a rule about stuff like that here. The alumnus that donated this house was one of those backward conservatives— fine with drinking, but sex and drugs aren’t allowed. If anyone reports Adams and Piper, the house goes back to the school.”

“Seriously? Don’t people have sex here all the time? I saw Jacob and a girl in the back garden, the first time I was here,” I said.

“The rules state the
house
is to be sex-free, not the garden,” the bartender said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh. That’s one hell of a technicality,” I said, nodding. I hesitated. “So, you know everything, right?”

“Naturally,” the bartender answered.

“Jenna and Jacob Everett. Tell me about them?”

“Ah,” he said, looking intrigued as to why I was asking all this. “They’re both superstars at their sports. I think they sort of get one another— you know, the athletic thing, the locker room thing, the getting grass stains on your clothes thing. They were off and on a lot, but I think everyone more or less expects them to be on again at some point.
Are
they on again? Did you hear something?”

“Not really. I was just wondering,” I said.

“Well, let me know. If they’re on again, I want to see Piper’s face when she finds out.”

“I think she’s pretty happy with Adams now,” I said.

The bartender scoffed. “Adams is a poor man’s Jacob Everett, even if the poor man doesn’t know it yet.”

Adams himself came downstairs a few moments later, trailed by Piper, who was grinning— grinning
too
hard, actually, making it clearly forced. Adams made something of a spectacle of himself, like he wanted to make sure everyone saw where he’d been and who he’d been with.

“Nice!” one of the freshman players said.

“Damn, Piper, he looks like he’d had the time of his life.”

“Feeling loose for the game, Adams?”

The carousing went around a few times before Adams, drunk on alcohol and high on his own sexual prowess, lunged over the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. The bartender protested lightly, but gave up— this was Football House, after all, where football players were kings among men.

“I propose a toast,” Adams said, holding the bottle up.

“To your cock?” someone shouted.

“Already proposed that one, and she drank up,” Adams shouted back, and the room laughed. I took a step back, trying to blend into the doorway just behind the bar— despite the fact that on the surface, Adams had everything Jacob had, I felt repelled by him rather than reeled in.

“A toast to Harton football, obviously,” Adams began, and a round of cheering rose up. As it was dying off, I saw Jacob and the other people who’d been outside walking back in, empty beer bottles or cocktail glasses in hand.

Adams went on, louder now— I couldn’t tell if he’d seen Jacob or not. “And a toast to the future of it! You guys know how much this team means to me, and I’m excited to lead it to the next level. Enough with all this old hero worship and injuries and other bullshit, right? So, the future, guys. Say it! To the future!”

The freshman players cheered, as did plenty of the girls— Piper included— and a number of the juniors. But near the front door was a mass of silence where the senior players stood, with Jacob at their center. His face was all lines, hard and furrowed and angry in a way I had never seen before— a way that made him look dangerous and bestial. His hands were balled into fists, and he took three long steps forward— he was going to get in a fight. He was going to start throwing punches at Adams, and he was going to injure his shoulder worse, and everything he cared about would be over in a flash.

I realized just as Jacob was taking the fourth step that this might very well be exactly what Adams wanted, giving a toast like that. With Jacob out of the way permanently, he’d be the new Harton hero. He’d lead the team. He’d be the king.

I stepped forward, abandoning my drink to go to him, unsure what I would do or say when I got there but certain I was the only thing that stood between him and disaster. Adams was still pouring Jack Daniels into his mouth, but Jacob was getting closer—

Jenna was there. It was incredible, really, how she appeared— like some kind of petite little sporty fairy, sparkling in at the last instant. I was too far away to hear what was said, but Jacob looked down at Jenna and his expression softened. Jenna’s fingers drifted up his injured arm, and then easily, gently, she took his hand in hers and swept him out of the room with a coy smile. Where were they going? I wanted to know. For an instant, I HAD to know, and was a breath away from running to the door and watching where their silhouetted forms went.

But what if she was leading him to the garden? Or what if he was taking her to his apartment? Or the alumni resort? Or any of the half dozen places I’d given myself to Jacob over and over again?