He tosses the remote aside and tightens his grip on me. His heat blends with mine and I quickly forget all about the chill taking hold of my skin.
* * *
I wake up the next morning still in his arms, locked in a cocoon of warmth and comfort.
Junior stirs as I do. His eyes flick with confusion but it quickly dissipates as he realizes where he is.
He gazes down at me and smiles. “Hey...”
“Hey.”
A knock strikes the door.
“Hey, Eliza!”
Junior bolts up on the bed.
“Closet, closet, closet—” I shove him toward it and he almost falls to the floor. He rights himself and manages to hide away just a second before my door opens.
Dad walks in, wearing the same clothes he wore last night. My nose twitches, able to sense the mix of cheap booze and dollar store perfume on his collar from across the room.
“Hey—” he greets, smiling. “Missed you at the game last night.”
I nod, focusing all my self-control on not drawing attention to the closet. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t feeling well and—”
“We won.”
“Yeah, I could hear the screaming on campus from all the way out here. Congrat—”
“Try and make the next one, all right?” he interrupts. “It looks good for you to show your support.”
I force a smile. “Of course. I’ll try. Sorry, I missed—”
He leaves before I even finish the sentence.
I stand up and walk silently to the closet. Junior has concealed himself behind a line of my blouses but he’s completely visible from the waist down.
“He’s gone.”
Junior steps out, keeping as light on his feet as possible, and breathes a thick sigh of relief. “You feeling better?” he whispers to me.
I nod, realizing that the overwhelming ick I felt all day yesterday has disappeared. “Yeah.”
“Good.” His eyes trace a halo around my head and he grins.
I quickly reach up to adjust the nest in my hair, feeling a rush of blood to my face. “Ugh, I probably look awful.”
“You look beautiful.”
My heart flutters. I drop my hands, suddenly not caring about the possibility of severe bed head.
“I should get going. I need to meet with my sister.”
My eyes bounce to the clock. It’s just after ten on Sunday. I can barely remember the last time I slept this well or woke up so refreshed.
I open my door and stick my head out, focusing my hearing to pinpoint my dad’s location in the house.
There’s a brief shuffling of feet on the second floor somewhere beneath me. I signal for Junior to stay back as I descend the stairs, inching closer to the master bedroom below.
My dad’s shower turns on and I breathe easier.
“Come on.” I wave up the stairs at Junior and he follows me down.
We rush to the ground floor, my eyes constantly over my shoulder as we move. He throws the front door open and I force him outside onto the concrete stairs.
“Thanks for coming over,” I whisper, fighting to be heard over the harsh chirping of country birds. “And for the coffee. I owe you one.”
Junior closes the short gap between us and cups my cheek with one hand. He leans down to kiss me, holding me in place for longer than safety allows. A wave of warmth tingles all the way down to my toes, nearly knocking me off balance as his lips purse with mine.
He pulls away and smiles again. “Bye, Ellie.”
“Bye, Junior.”
I watch him leave. He takes off, sprinting fast down the driveway toward the large bushes on the street. I feel a twinge in my gut as he disappears from sight and my forehead breaks out into a thick sweat.
I head back to my room, moving slowly to fight the dizzy spell suddenly wreaking havoc in my head.
It pulls me toward the bathroom and that wretched nausea from yesterday comes back with a vengeance.
Afterward, I sit on the cold linoleum floor, once again wondering what the hell it was I ate that made me so sick.
This doesn’t feel like the normal flu, but it doesn’t quite feel like food poisoning either.
Maybe it’s mono or something — full sexual lock-down for at least six weeks, I’m sure Junior will just love that.
Maybe it’s Ebola, that sounds fun. Flesh-eating bacteria.
Or maybe I’m just preg—
I stare at the pink wall in front of me.
Oh, shit.
Chapter 21
Junior
I just slept with a girl and I liked it.
I’ve slept with dozens of girls, but I’ve never once fallen asleep with one. It’s always been the old bang and goodbye. Maybe a passive I’ll call you if she’s getting too clingy. But Eliza? Not only did we sleep together, I heard she was sick, and I came running without a second thought. For once, getting laid wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“You like her.”
I shake my head at Maggie across the table and chew a little more on my straw. “No — what, who?”
“Whatever girl you have in your head right now,” she says. “Whoever she is, she’s stealing away my sacred Sunday lunch date with my little brother.”
I set the empty cup down. “Sorry, Mag. Just a bit distracted.”
“Yeah, no shit.” She chuckles. “I expected Annoyingly Self-Confident Junior today after that win last night, not Oddly Pensive Junior. What’s her name?”
“There’s no her.” I look down at the table and Maggie gasps, quickly bringing my eyes back to her stunned face. “What?”
“What’s hisname?” she asks, feigning worry.
I glare at her. “It’s not that either.”
She deflates in disappointment. “Well, there’s someone out there putting you in a tizzy and I want to know who it is.”
“I am not in a tizzy...” I sigh, knowing that Maggie will play this game all day unless I give her something. “Okay, maybe a little tizzy.”
“What happened?”
“I slept with her.”
“So?”
“Like, literally. In bed, fully-clothed... sleep.”
Maggie reaches across the table to lay a comforting hand on mine. “Junior...” she whispers, “was there spooning?”
“There might definitely have been some spooning.”
“Did you like it?”
I close my eyes, instantly recalling the warmth of Eliza’s body lying beside mine. “A lot.”
Maggie clears her throat, forcing the obvious cackle back down into her lungs. “I’m so proud of you.”
I shake her hand off. “Don’t do that, Mag.”
She sits back, fighting the grin. “My little brother, all grown up and entering exclusive relationships—”
“We are not exclusive,” I stop her. “We’re just having fun. Last night was an accident.”
“Last night?!”
I growl, realizing I’ve already revealed too much. There’s no going back now. I tossed a fierce kitten a loose thread and she won’t stop until she’s through unraveling it with her claws. “I came straight here from her place.”
“So, instead of partying with the team last night, you went over to see her?”
“We had plans, but she got sick and canceled. I wanted to see if she was okay.”
“Did you bring soup?” she asks, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Please tell me you brought her soup.”
“I didn’t bring her soup.” I pause. “I brought her coffee.”
“Junior...” Maggie smiles. “You like her.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Junior...” She gives her voice a hard edge. “I know like her when I see it and you like her.” I sit back and sigh with annoyance. “It’s okay to like her. Why are you so embarrassed?”
“I’m not embarrassed. And no, it’s not okay to like her. Not this one.”
She chews on that for a mo
ment. “Have you been having fun with anyone else since you first had fun with her?”
“No,” I admit.
“Has she?”
“I hope not.I mean...” I give a passive shrug, reacting to Maggie’s twisted smirk. “I don’t know, not that I care...”
“Hate to break it to you, little brother, but you are one very specific conversation away from being in an exclusive relationship with this girl.”
“She wouldn’t go for it.”
“Why not?”
“Because... we’re not allowed to see each other.”
“Not allowed?” she mocks. “What is she, a Capulet?”
“No. She’s a Pierce.”
“A Pier — Pierce?!” Her eyes blink a dozen times. “As in the new football coach, Pierce?”
I gesture for her to lower her voice. “As in his daughter, Eliza, yes. He doesn’t want anyone on the team involved with her but we kind of... rebelled.”
“Wait — she’s really pretty.”
I note her confused eyes. “This shocks you?”
“No, I’m just surprised you have actual taste.”
“Mag, I’ve been telling you about banging hot girls since I was in high school.”
“There is a huge difference between the hot girl and the pretty girl, little brother. The hot girl you brag about to your friends. The pretty girl you take home to meet Mom.”
I shake my head. “No one’s going home to meet Mom. Wait, how do you know she’s pretty?”
“Nate and I always go to theatre department showcases every few weeks,” she explains. “I noticed her name popping up in the programs this year and she is very hard not to notice up there. She’s really talented.”
“I know.”
“You’ve seen her perform?”
I hesitate, imagining the exact expression my response will bring. “I help her run lines.”
Maggie’s jaw drops in slow motion, the edges of her lips curling into a maniacal grin. “You help her memorize her lines?!”
“Mag...”
“That’s so cute!”
“Stop it. She helps me with my math homework. It’s an even trade.”
“I thought you said you two were just having fun.”
“It’s a little more than just having fun. Can we drop this, please?”
“Okay,” she says, giggling behind her soda cup.
“So…” I stare Maggie down. “You go to all the theatre showcases but you’ve never once been to one of my games?”
She winces, dropping her grin. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that…” I laugh and she slaps her hand on the table between us. “Oh, speaking of Mom — her birthday is next Sunday. I was thinking we could head over there and see her instead of coming here…?”
“Fine by me,” I say. “Want me to pick you up?”
Her face contorts. “Um, no. I will pick you up and we’ll take my car. There’s no way I’m getting in that shag wagon of yours.”
“Fair enough.”
“Anyway…” She grabs her purse off the back of her chair. “I need to stop by the campus bookstore. Wanna tag along?”
“No,” I answer. “I have some homework to do, I think…”
“I’ll see you next week.” She stands up but quickly pauses. “You haven’t dragged Eliza into that van, have you?” Her nose scrunches up her face like a withering sponge.
I hesitate. “Well…”
“Ugh…” She doesn’t even try to hide her disgust. “You’re lucky she even likes you at all…”
“I tell myself that every day.”
“Bye, little brother.”
“Bye, Mag — Wait. You think she likes me?”
She grins down at me. “Have you thought of asking her that?”
I shake my head. “We’re not allowed to be together.”
“It kind of sounds like you already are, Junior.”
She squeezes my shoulder as she passes by and I sit back to absorb the situation.
Eliza has been pretty clear from the start that this isn’t serious. It can’t be. That’s rule number one. We hang out, we have sex, we study and read lines. No emotions necessary. No need to second guess anything we say or do because it’s all on the surface. I scratch her back, she scratches mine. It’s a nice arrangement.
But then, why did I rush over there like that last night? Why did she even let me in? Why didn’t either of us complain when we were cuddling on her bed?
Because you’re dating her, you fucking moron.
I reach for my phone, instinct driving for me to call her but I drop it back down. I don’t even know what I’d say to her. I just want to hear her voice.
Shit. I really do like her. No, that’s not enough.
I’m fucking crazy about her.
* * *
I park my van and step outside into the driveway. I don’t even remember how I got here. I’ve been stuck in my head since lunch, obsessing over the possibility of having the talk with Eliza Pierce that I arrived home completely on auto-pilot.
At this point, I’ve managed to talk myself into believing that Eliza feels the same way about me as I do about her. There’s something in her smile, something so beautiful and comforting, that there must be more than just casual friendliness behind it. No girl has ever looked at me like that before — at least, none that I’ve noticed as much as her.
I step onto the porch and the front door opens before I reach it.
“Good morning, Lover Boy.”
Grant pops it closed behind him and I stare at him with confusion.
“Grant…? You looking for Eliza?”
He grins. “Nope.”
I furrow my brow. “So…”
“Don’t think too hard about it,” he says, flashing a quick wink.
He taps my cheek with his palm as he passes. I stand still for several moments while he half-skips to his car parked on the street.
Okay, then.
I step inside the house and run right into Ty’s worrisome face.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes shifting from mine to the street outside.
“Relax, man. Grant’s a cool guy.”
I give his shoulder a reassuring pat as I pass by him into the living room and he stares at me as I plop down onto the couch.
“Rough night?” he asks, letting the tension fall from his shoulders.
I shake my head. “No, it was perfect.”
“Then, why do you look like someone sucker-punched you in the nads?”
I stare at the ceiling. There’s a word on my tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever used it in this context before, but I might as well test drive it now.
“I’m in love with Eliza.”
My body twinges for a second, jolting at the mere mention of the word but I settle just as quickly. Somehow, I feel lighter and better off than I was before, like an overdue, cathartic shock to the system.
“Shit, dude.” Ty chuckles. “You just now figure that out?”
“Yeah.”
“I could have told you that.”
I look up at him. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
“Do you feel bad about it?”
I let a moment pass by. “No.”
“So, what’s wrong — other than the obvious she’s Cary Pierce’s daughter part?”
“Shit…” I sigh. “This is bad.”
“You didn’t seem all that concerned about it before when it was just sex.”
“Well, I can do sex.” Words fall out of me with little thought. “I like sex. Sex and I are buddies. Being in love is something else entirely.”
“Is it, though?” he asks, tilting his head.
I blink. “Isn’t it?”
“You sure you’re not just over-thinking this?”
“Probably — but I can’t stop over-thinking about it. I mean… what do I do now? Do I tell her? How do I talk to her? How do I act around her? Do we stop having sex? Do we have more sex?”
“Okay, yeah. You’re definitely over-thin
king it.” He turns toward the kitchen. “I’m going to put on some coffee and then we’re going to talk this out.”
“Sounds good.”
I look straight ahead as he wanders out of the room, once again spiraling down into a labyrinth of what-ifs and maybes. What if Eliza doesn’t love me back? Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. I was so sure just five minutes ago that she wanted me but now I’ve dropped anchor right back to square one.
Fuck. This love thing kind of sucks.
“Junior…”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you decide — just don’t fuck it up,” he warns from the doorway. “We’re on track for the championship this year and I would very much like for that to happen.”
“Me, too.”
He disappears into the other room again, leaving me crushed and nauseous. Maybe I caught Eliza’s stomach bug last night after all. Or maybe I just can’t deal with the fact that she’s Cary Pierce’s daughter and I have no business falling in love with her. We can’t be together the way I want us to be.
But that hasn’t stopped us so far.
Chapter 22
Eliza
I feel strange.
Almost broken, in a way. Except there’s nothing shattered or missing. There’s something new inside, pushing the usual formation out of place like a pebble shaking around in my shoe.
A pebble. It’s probably smaller than that, actually — if it even exists at all. Just thinking about it gives me a stress headache. How can something so small mean so much so quickly?
“When is it due?”
I snap up from my book to find Junior staring across the table at me. “What?”
He smiles and taps his pencil against my book. “The scene. When do you need to have it memorized?”
“Oh, um…” I rub the bridge of my nose. “Next Thursday, I think.”
“Are you okay? You seem strange.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “No strangeness. Just tired, I guess.” I point to his notebook. “Have you finished that proof?”
“Yup.” Junior slides it over to me and I pick up my pencil to check his work. “What are you doing this weekend?”
The Bad Baller Collection Page 15
