I don’t want to be the guy who saved her, I want to be the guy she chooses. I’d like to believe this is one of those good things in my life I’m going to be able to hang on to, but the pessimist in me isn’t ready to forge ahead so blindly.
“Listen, we’ve got a couple weeks left in our fake relationship to figure it out. By then, you may be sick of me. Until then, let’s just roll with it.”
Tuesday afternoon practice is shit and the team looks sloppy. Coach is on the floor demonstrating an inbound play that should be so easy middle schoolers could get it done. Sitting on the sidelines getting water and taking a break after almost an hour of non-stop play, Joel and I share the same worried expression. After winning the NCAA tourney last year, all eyes are going to be on us and we fucking suck.
“We gotta do something,” he says and drapes the towel over his head. “I don’t wanna go out like this. Last year and we’re going to be laughed off the court.”
I’d been thinking the same thing and I think of Chloe so willing to do anything to fit in with her team. Maybe it’s not the rookies. Maybe it’s us.
“What about having the team over tonight? Just the guys.”
He nods. “Like a team intervention? We could go over all the shit they’re fucking up.”
“Nah, man. No basketball talk, just hanging, relaxing, getting to know them.”
“You wanna make friends with the rookies?” He quirks one dark eyebrow.
I shrug. “What we’re doing now isn’t working. You got a better idea?”
Joel doesn’t answer right away. Coach yells out for us to sub back in, and we get to our feet quickly.
“Let’s do it,” he says. “I’m willing to try anything.”
After practice, Joel and I each tell a few guys about the plan for the night and then he takes off to get supplies while I go back to the house and survey our stock. I text him a list of things and then jump in the shower.
When I walk back into my room naked except the towel I’m currently using to dry off my hair, Chloe’s there on my bed. Books and laptop sprawled out, she smiles up at me, heat in her gaze. “You just walk around naked on a Tuesday afternoon?”
“Not usually hot girls sitting on my bed when I get out of the shower. Did I conjure you up because the Chloe I was thinking about while I soaped up was naked too and you’re fully clothed?”
“We’re supposed to work on our Comms project. You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Shit. Yeah, sorry. Team is coming over in an hour.”
She nods and looks me over. I still haven’t bothered to cover myself. “But you have an hour?”
Pretending I don’t know what she’s angling at, I sit on the bed and pick up a textbook. It’s upside down, but she doesn’t notice. “Sure. We could probably get the first section done in an hour. You think?”
I run my fingers through my still damp hair and then run a hand over my chest to wipe away some water drops. She watches every movement I make; her pretty lips part and quiver. She’s so still I can’t be sure she’s breathing.
“Chloe?”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “Sorry, yeah, let’s do that.” She tries to recover, fumbling with a notebook and pen.
“Chlo?”
She looks up, hesitant this time.
“I’m totally fucking with you. I’ve got an hour and you think I want to do schoolwork?” I drop the textbook on the bed and then sweep my hand across the comforter to send it all to the floor. Didn’t quite think it through because her laptop hits the floor with a thud.
“Fuck.” I wince. “There’s a good chance I just killed your laptop.” I lean over the bed to retrieve it and check it for damage, but Chloe stops me and pulls me on top of her.
By the time I make it downstairs, fully clothed, the team’s all here.
“Good luck,” Chloe says, looking past me to the team hanging out in the living room and kitchen. “Wanna hang out tomorrow after class?”
“Can’t. We’ve got a late workout. Tomorrow night?”
“Team dinner.”
We both nod, knowing it’s going to be hard to mesh our schedules for a while.
“Well, I’ll see you in class at least,” she says, tilting up on her toes like she’s going to kiss me and then dropping as if she’s unsure.
“Definitely.” I lean down, cup her face, and press my lips to hers. I don’t waste any time sweeping my tongue past her lips so we’re full-on sucking face. Damn, this girl gets me all worked up.
“Hey, hey, no girls allowed,” Joel yells from somewhere. I raise a middle finger above my head and keep right on kissing my girl.
Chloe smiles, her lips curling up at the corners and the sweet sound of her laughter pouring into my mouth. She pulls back slowly. “I should go. Have fun with the team.”
She turns on her heel, and I smack her ass because… well, I just want an excuse to touch it. Looking over her shoulder at me, she smiles and then disappears out the front door.
Joel wraps an arm around me while I’m still staring at the door. “You’re so fucked.”
I wriggle out of his hold. “You’re one to talk.” He and Katrina are practically inseparable. If he could bring her to practice, I’m pretty sure he would.
“I’m happily fucked,” he says like that explains it.
“What the hell does that mean?”
I walk to the kitchen for food, and Joel follows behind me. “Kitty and I are the real deal—in it for the long haul. Soul mates and all that shit.”
“So poetic,” I joke.
“You and Chloe are still in the beginning stages, so whether you’re going to be happily fucked or just fucked remains to be seen.”
“I can’t argue with that logic.”
I fill a plate with food. I have no idea how Joel was able to get a full meal catered on the fly, but my stomach growls in appreciation.
“I invited Wes,” Joel says after we’ve both got a plate and are headed to the living room.
“Why? The guys—”
“Know we’re tight so it makes sense he’d be here. Plus, you two need to work your shit out. With everything else fucking with the team mojo, we can’t handle your shit on top of it.”
I grumble but know he’s right. Sitting off to the side, I watch the team interact. Joel and I are the only seniors. Aside from one lone junior, the team is made up of sophomores and freshmen. They’re good guys, good players, even, but young and inexperienced.
Most of them are only a year or two older than Heath. God willing, next year he’ll be off at college trying to fit in with a team just like this. That makes me pay a little closer attention and think a little harder on how I can help.
But first, I fire off a text to check in.
Me: What’s up, little bro? Haven’t heard from ya. How’s hockey?
I’ve learned not to come out of the gate asking about Mom or he shuts down and I don’t get any information.
Heath: Good. Uncle Doug is taking me to NMU next week to visit. Coach Frazier is gonna let me skate with the team.
Me: That’s awesome. Congrats.
I hesitate.
Me: Mom going?
Heath: Doubt it.
I pocket my phone with plans to call my mom later and talk to her. Not going with him is… well, it’s shitty. And I’m tired of her flaking and making excuses. I know that her pain is different. I lost a dad, but she lost a husband… not the same, I get it, but Heath still needs her.
When Wes shows up, most the guys don’t even bat an eye. He’s a likable coach. God knows why he’s such a grumpy bastard.
He grabs a beer from the kitchen and takes a seat next to me. “Hey. How’s it going?”
“Fine.” I take a drink from my beer and watch the TV. Shaw and Fresh are playing NBA 2K20. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he says in a mocking tone and shakes his head. “Seriously, how are you? Blair tells me you and the volleyball chick are serious.”
“You wanna have girl talk?”
“Chloe and I are just dating, but I like her. She’s cool.” I might be downplaying my feelings, but a few obstacles still stand in the way. Most importantly, I need to return the money she paid me. It feels all wrong now that I know how she feels, but it puts me back at square one—needing paper.
Wes chuckles. “Dodging like a pro. Nice.”
I lower my voice. “I’m not using. You’ve seen my piss tests.”
“And dealing?”
I shoot him a death glare and start to stand.
“Stop. Sit. I’m sorry, man. I’m just worried. You totally blindsided me. I knew you were struggling, but I had no idea it was that bad.” He sounds sincere so I sit back down.
“Things back home are shit. It was stupid, I know. I made a mistake. You gonna hold it over me for the rest of the season? Because if so, I need to invest in earplugs to tune you out.”
“I know all about shitty parent situations. That shit’s not your fault. The rest… well, that’s on you.”
Anger rises faster than I can control and my tone is hard. “I don’t have shitty parents. My parents are awesome.” But as quick as it came, it falls with the realization I’m living in the past. “Well, they were. Ever since my dad died, my mom is…” I choose my words carefully. “Having a hard time. And my brother is still there dealing with it.”
“Your dad died?” Genuine shock shows on Wes’ face and the reality that yeah, my dad is gone smacks me hard. It’s one thing to say the words, but every once in a while, the full weight of it hits me all over. He’s gone… really gone.
I nod. “Month before my freshman year.”
“Fuck.” He takes another drink from his beer. “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“My parents don’t give a fuck most the time, but at least they’re alive.”
I’d sort of gathered that from his grumblings in the past and the fact I’ve never met them, but it breaks down something between us to admit our shit to one another. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Talk to Coach Daniels. If there’s anything he can do to help, he will. And if not, you know the guys and I got your back.”
I hate asking for help, but in this instance, I think Wes might be right. It might be time to admit I can’t figure this out on my own. “Alright.”
He gives me a wry smile. “Okay, can we stop having a heart to heart now and play some 2K20?”
“Whatever you want, Couch Dubya.”
23
Chloe
Our team dinner is at an Italian place with a large outdoor seating area and views of the mountains. We have the entire patio, and they’ve pulled the tables together into one long table for us.
Coach gave us a two-drink max, but Emily waves me over to the opposite side of the patio where a firepit is lit. It’s unseasonably cool tonight so I’m thankful for the warmth.
“Shots?”
“What?”
“At the bar. Come on, Coach is so busy talking she’ll never notice.”
I look through the open French doors to the restaurant. She’s right. With the angle of the bar, it’s unlikely she’ll see us.
Emily smiles, clearly seeing my hesitation waver, and grabs my hand. We shuffle quickly to the corner of the bar and erupt into giggles.
“Think she saw us?” I ask.
“Nah. We’re good.”
The bartender eyes us as he sets a martini down in front of the guy beside us. “What can I get you?”
“Two shots of Fireball.”
We have to flash our IDs before he goes off to get our drinks, but when he’s gone, I turn to her. “Fireball? Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Definitely,” she says through a smile. “There’s a party at Mallory’s tonight.”
“Oh, I dunno. I don’t really know Mallory.”
She rolls her eyes. “No excuses. Everyone on the team is going and that includes you.”
Our shots come, and I clink my glass to hers. It does include me, and Camila was right. I need to start acting like I belong.
The dinner takes a long time—the restaurant clearly not expecting a team of girls to order as much food as we do. By the time we eat, the two glasses of wine combined with the three shots Emily and I snuck off to take at the bar have already hit me hard.
After, we pile into Bri’s SUV. She didn’t drink tonight. In fact, she’s been the DD at all of our team outings and I gotta say I respect that she looks out for everyone. She’s not a bad captain, just a little too heavy with the iron fist.
Mallory’s apartment is far enough away that we decide on leaving Bri’s car here tonight and getting an Uber back to the dorm later. Bri’s no drinking doesn’t apply to parties thankfully, and I’m hoping if she gets liquored up enough maybe I can corner her in the bathroom and force her to talk, to be friends with me.
Clearly, the alcohol has gone to my head. Emily is talking to some guy I don’t know in the front room, so I go off in search of Sydney. She’s always down for fun.
“Hey, Chloe,” Liv, a freshman, says as I approach the kitchen. I realize I haven’t really done a good job of trying to get to know any of them besides my roommates. In practices, I keep my head down and I’d thought Bri had gotten to everyone but maybe not. Liv seems happy to see me anyway.
“Hey.” I stop next to her. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” She bobs her head, tucks her long red hair behind both ears, and glances around awkwardly.
“Not really your scene?”
“I just don’t really know anyone yet. I got put in a dorm room with soccer players, so practices and team outings are the only chance I have.”
I grab her hand and pull her behind me like Emily did me earlier. “Come on, tonight that all changes.” I pick up a bottle of Rumchata. “Drink?”
I stop drinking to ensure Liv has a good time and I introduce her, and in some cases myself, to anyone who will listen. We dance and laugh with our teammates and if anyone minds my being here, I can’t tell because I’m not focusing on that.
After two in the morning, Emily pushes me into the back of an Uber with the rest of my roommates. I slide in between Bri and Emily. Tonight was fun. The first fun night I’ve had that didn’t involve Nathan since I got to Valley.
I decide to text him. I’m well aware that he’s probably asleep, but I miss him, and I want to hear his voice… or see his words, whatever.
Me: Hey! What are you doing?
Bri glances at my phone. “Booty call?”
“Is it still a booty call if I love him?” Love might be a bit strong, but at this hour, my very strong like feels a lot like love.
I lie my head on Bri’s shoulder. I never did get a chance to talk to her tonight, but the back of an Uber seems like the wrong place. Eh, when will it be the right place? “Why don’t you like me?”
Emily busts out laughing and I yawn. I’m suddenly so tired and the exhaustion of weeks of stress and holding it all in finally catches up to me. Bri stays quiet and I pull my head from her shoulder. “I just want to play volleyball and I’m good. I’m really good. So why don’t you like me?”
“Because I had to work my ass off to be here. My mom worked three jobs, and I still had to take out student loans and here you are, buying your way into not one but two colleges.”
“I didn’t buy my way into Valley.”
She raises a brow.
“I didn’t.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. My coach at Golden put me in touch with—”
“I know. Your coach from the school you bought your way into made a call.”
She looks at me like she’s waiting for me to connect the dots.
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
I mull it over for the rest of our drive. Is my time at Valley just an extension of all the perks my parents gained for me? I can�
��t believe that.
We get out of the Uber and slowly make our way up to our dorm. Instead of going to my room, I head to Bri’s. She’s changing in the closet, and I plop down on her bed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s the same thing, but I can see how it feels unfair to you. I just want to play volleyball. No bullshit.”
She comes out of her closet as she pulls a baggy t-shirt over her head. Emily is already asleep in her bed on the opposite side of the room still fully dressed.
Bri lies down on the bed next to me, and I make no move to leave. She lets her head fall to the side and looks me in the eye. “Thank you. I guess that’s all I wanted to hear. After graduation, I want to play professionally.”
“You do?” I ask, surprised I didn’t already know.
She nods. “It’s been my dream forever.”
I look up at her ceiling and think about my own dreams. Getting through the year and proving myself has become all I can see of the future.
“I’m sorry I ruined your dress.”
“My dress?” I glance down until I realize she means the pink one. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. That thing probably cost more than my entire closet. I’ve been sick about it ever since. I’ll pay you back someday.”
“Not necessary, just promise you’ll tone down the queen bee bitch routine?”
She snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
We fall silent again, and she nudges me with her elbow. “I’m sorry I’ve been a royal bitch to you but, Chloe?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m still gonna kick your ass in the sand.”
The next morning, I wake up in Bri’s bed. My phone is dead, but even without knowing the time I have a feeling I’ve overslept. When I sit up, nausea hits me. I’m hungover and hungry and my stomach is confused because it wants to eat but also acknowledges I may very well puke if I do.
The Fake: A College Sports Romance (Smart Jocks #4) Page 16
