Team Player 2: A Sports Anthology

by Paige, Rochelle

  Lance: Talk to me, Harper. Right now. At least tell me if you’re okay.

  Bubbles pop up and disappear the way they have for the last few days. She wants to talk, but she’s afraid of the asshole that kicked her out of his room. I get it. But the situation was shit, and I was not at all prepared for the bomb she dropped. I see both sides of this, and I can’t understand why she can’t or refuses to see mine. I’ve told her enough for her to know how fucking important this season is to me.

  She’s stubborn as hell. And most days it’s an attribute I like about her, but for the last week, it’s pissed me right the hell off. Staring at my phone, I will her to text back until it lights up with an incoming call.

  “Hey, Momma.”

  “Hey, you. How are you?”

  “Good, sore from practice yesterday and walking to class.”

  “They’re working you hard, huh?”

  “Every day.”

  “Well, I raised a warrior. You’ll make it.”

  “How are you? How’s Dad?”

  “Good. Good. Dad’s good, but your brother is a nightmare. I knew I should have stopped at one child. The little shit took off with the tractor last week to impress some girl. He actually drove it down the highway and picked her up. Stole my picnic basket with the good china and everything.”

  I can’t help my grin. For years, Trevor thought his name was ‘little shit.’

  “He’s in the dog house. Your father nearly skinned him.”

  “He’s just blowing off steam, Mom.”

  “Is that what you call it? You weren’t much more intelligent sneaking over to Becky Ballenger’s house when you were only fifteen. Or was it Becky Rendon? I could never keep up. I was certain I was going to be a grandmother before you graduated.”

  “Mom, can we change the subject?”

  “Fine. But you know I’m right. You gettin’ around okay?”

  “So far yeah, the room I rented is a little far from campus, so it’s a bit of a pain in the ass, but it’s cheap rent, so it’s working out.”

  “Do you need money?”

  “No, Mom, I’m okay.”

  “You don’t know how sorry I am that you had to sell your truck. I promise you once we get the herd to auction and—”

  “Stop beating yourself up. I swear, I’m good.”

  “Okay. Be there to pick you up this Friday? Dad could use your help with a few things. And I’ll get your laundry.”

  “I can do my own laundry, Mom. There’s a machine at my new place.”

  “I like doing it.”

  “Liar. I’ll text you the new address.”

  With the season about to start, my trips home will be fewer and fewer, I’m going to have to work sunup to sundown while I’m there. Sighing heavily, I rub my forehead and clear all selfish thoughts until familiar, fair white-blonde hair distracts me from my pity party and conversation. My body jolts in awareness when I see my inkling was right and Harper comes into full view walking across campus alone, towards the parking lot.

  “Momma,” I start at a dead run, “I gotta go.”

  “K, son, see you Friday. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” I stop a few feet away from where she walks and adjust my backpack so I can shoot off a text.

  Lance: You can’t avoid me forever.

  Harper stops walking when her phone buzzes in her hand. Reads the text, bites her lip, before raising her phone to respond. I study her profile as she types out another reply, she has no intention of sending. Her halo hair in a braid along her crown while the rest of it flows down her shoulders. She looks beautiful in a fitted sundress, her curves hugged by the thin material. My dick recognizes the need for her as I wet my lips, tempted to sweep her up in my arms and carry her away. I can’t decide if I want to kiss the fucking life out of her or punish-fuck her into oblivion. Either way, it’s time to face the music.

  “You ever going to send off that text?”

  She hangs her head, letting out a breath of defeat without looking my way.

  “Go away. We can’t be seen together.”

  “No one is around,” I confirm, looking left and right. “It’s just you and your lover.” I chuckle, but it dies in my throat with her reaction.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want him around either,” she retorts dryly.

  I close the space between us, determined to front her out. “Look, avoiding me isn’t cool. You’re the one who screwed up.” I raise my hand as she opens her mouth to object. “But not telling me how it went down at home or letting me know if you’re okay isn’t either. I must’ve fucking texted you a hundred times.”

  She narrows her eyes. “After you threw me out of your room.”

  I nod. “I was upset. I had a right to be.”

  “You don’t get to treat me like that no matter what I do wrong. You hear me?”

  “I apologized. If you were good at accepting them, we would have spoken by now.”

  “I’m new to this, and you know that!” She looks so innocent glaring at me with a mixture of hurt and determination. “I will not be treated that way!”

  “I heard you the first time. And here’s a tip. You have to communicate with the person you’re arguing with or else it isn’t an argument.”

  “Don’t you patronize me, Shrek!”

  Loud laughter bursts from me, and she harrumphs.

  “Oh, come on,” I call to her back, “that was a dig at me and it was funny!”

  More aggravation takes hold, and the boom of my voice at her back stops her in her tracks. “Harper, stop!”

  She turns to me with her arms crossed.

  “Okay, you’ve got me, I’m through the first hoop. You win, I’ll juggle, I’ll do whatever you want, just stop fucking walking away and talk to me.”

  She stares at me, her mouth opening and then closing.

  “Talk to me,” I urge more gently.

  “Look, this week was hell on earth, and I know you’ve got enough going on. It’s just…I felt like we were getting close and you just shut me out like that. So easily, too easily. You shut down on me. I know it’s my mess, but it made me feel like shit.” She tilts her head, her eyes raking over me. “If I’m so easily disposable, I don’t think I should play around with you anymore.”

  “If that’s what you want, it’s probably best.” It’s my line. I’m sure I’ve said it half a dozen times, and I’ve never hated myself fully for it until now. I don’t say it because I don’t care, I say it because I genuinely have never wanted to commit to any woman, until now.

  “Well, it’s not what I want, if you want honesty from me. Damn you,” her eyes rake me, and I see her face fall, “now I have to start over.”

  “What?” I cover the distance between us, studying the gloss on her lips. I’ve missed her. The increase in ache lets me know as much. Being this close to her and being unable to touch her hurts a lot worse than the separation. But she’s forbidden, the key to my demise. She could be the one person to ruin every best-laid plan for me. Why can’t I shake what I feel for her and chalk it up to curiosity? Why am I standing so close to the fire doused in kerosene?

  Because I like her, and I like spending time with her. Because I see a lot of myself in her. Because I feel the need to protect her. Because I love being inside of her just from the taste I’ve acquired so far. I love kissing her, touching her, hearing her moan my name. I’m enamored by her. There’s not one thing about her that grates on me, not even when I’m pissed at her. Nothing about this girl rubs me wrong. It’s just the opposite.

  “God, could you not stand there looking at me like that!” She shakes her head. “I made it nearly a week,” she mutters. “I was giving you an out. So just take it. Go away. And if you see me in the future, turn the other way. This can’t happen, right? So, let’s cut the head off the monster before it gets us both.”

  She resumes her walk towards the parking lot. I fight every inclination to follow, though everything in me is screaming to go after her. Having h
er the way I had did shit to stifle my want. My appetite for her has only grown. She’s under my skin, filling my veins, changing my makeup. She wants this, us, to be a thing. How can this be a thing? The coach’s daughter? It’s career suicide, and I don’t even have a career yet. But it’s the throbbing in my chest that wins as my legs pump to catch up with her.

  “Harper,” I grab for her hand.

  “Go, Lance. I mean it. You need to go. You wanted to erase the other night, right? It’s erased.”

  Her words sting so much, my throat clogs. In a barbaric act of stupidity, I throw her over my shoulder and carry her towards her Toyota. This move officially makes me the dumbest fucking man in the history of ever.

  “Put me down, you ass!”

  “We were in the middle of a conversation, a lover’s quarrel, if you will. If you want to lecture me about manners, it might be good to gain some yourself.”

  “We were done.”

  “Unlock your truck.”

  “What?”

  “The keys are in your hand, Harper, unlock it.”

  “Why?”

  I slap her ass and duck behind an Escalade to avoid a few students.

  She yelps at the contact, and I hear the distinct beep and head in the direction of the noise.

  “You want this to be real?” I ask hoarsely, my mind racing as I haul her through the parking lot.

  “It’s already real. A little too real, if you ask me. And this is not a conversation I want to have when my ass is in the air.”

  “If we do this thing, heads up, your ass will be in the air often.”

  I open her driver’s door and sit her behind the wheel. She keeps her eyes down. “I’m trying here, Prescott. I’m trying really hard to do what you need me to do.”

  “And what do you think that is?”

  “Disappear, not exist in your world. I know this world you’re in, maybe better than you because you can’t see outside of it. And you can’t see anything outside of it for months at a time. I get it. That’s how I feel about dance. And I’m a fan of yours, Lance, not because of whatever this is, but because you have real talent. I’ve watched you grow. I don’t want to get in the way of your goals. Honestly, I wouldn’t let you get in the way of mine. And we both know you’re going to get drafted.”

  “We don’t know.”

  “You have a good chance, depending on how the season goes. Walk away from me, this, now, and you’ll have an even better chance.”

  I groan in frustration because I know she’s right, but I don’t move, not an inch.

  “What do you want to happen?”

  She pushes out a long breath and shrugs. “The impossible. I want it to be easy like it was, but it’s not now. I thought we were connecting. I liked being with you.”

  “Me too,” I say softly. “I’ve missed you, Harper.”

  She nods. “Me too.”

  Silence passes as we both try and find a way around the shitstorm we’ve created. But she’s so close I can taste her; a new addiction, the needle within reach. With her, I can exhale. With her, there’s no pretense. She knows exactly who I am and what I’m about. I let her in, and I did it willingly, no resistance. There’s a reason. I’m into her too much to walk away.

  “Maybe our season was summer, you know? And now it’s almost over.”

  I lift her hand and she fits her fingers between mine.

  “I just don’t want to cost you something I can’t replace, Lance.”

  “What if it’s you?”

  Her lips part and I know that I mean it. Fuck, I’m falling for this girl.

  “We do this and we’re going to have to hide it until the season is over. This is more than just about ball. This is a lot more.”

  She draws her brows. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if this was just about me, it would be one thing. I’d face coach, I’d try to make it right between us now, but it’s not just about me. It’s about a lot more, and I can’t take a chance on it knowing the outcome might not go in our favor. This season is a life changer for me. I need to get drafted.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Every player does.”

  “No,” I shake my head and catch her eyes, “this is serious.”

  She swallows. “I would never do anything to jeopardize ball for you.”

  “I need your word that you won’t tell anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t, but, my sister already knows. And my best friend. He lives in New York and doesn’t give a shit about football.”

  “Damn it, Harper.”

  “You want me to trust you? Well, you’re going to have to trust me. These are my people. They would never hurt me or anyone I care about.”

  “Fine. That’s it.”

  “Swear.”

  “No Snapchatting my dick.”

  She rolls her eyes. “It was your ass and—”

  I grip her chin and crush her mouth with mine. I kiss her as deep as I can before pulling away.

  “That’s the first and last kiss I can give you in public until December. You okay with that?”

  “So, what does this mean?” She’s glowing, and it does something indescribable to me.

  “I’m yours for the season, whatever that means.”

  “No other girls?”

  “Are you serious? I can barely handle you.”

  She grins. “Tell me why the draft is so important.”

  I lean in and press a kiss to her temple. “One day I’ll explain, but for now you’re going to have to trust me and believe that this secrecy isn’t about me.”

  “I trust you.” She hesitates, and it puts me on edge.

  “What?” I ask, pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

  “This isn’t an ass thing, is it?” I see her pride overtake her features. This girl is a force.

  “No, it’s not an ass thing.”

  “You have feelings for me?”

  “You’re asking for a lot of confessions in one day.”

  “I expect a lot. I want respect, manners, and an occasional dinner.”

  “It’ll have to be breakfast in bed.”

  “Good breakfast?”

  “Can we negotiate later? I’m late for class.” I lean in and force her eyes to mine. “Don’t disappear on me again. If we’re having a fight, I need the opportunity to defend myself.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Come to my place at eleven tonight. Text me when you pull up, and I’ll sneak you in. There are always ballplayers over when my roommate is home, so we’ll have to be careful.”

  “K.”

  I shut her door, and we share a smile through the window before I turn and make my way towards campus, reeling with how easily I just gave in to what I wanted. It’s the first selfish thing I’ve done since I started TGU. Harper will be for me. She’s the one thing I want out of the rest of my time here, even if it’s running out. But deep down I know there’s more truth. I couldn’t deny this girl anything.

  I’m definitely fucking falling for her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harper

  Elated on the drive home, I dial René’s number. I met him at dance camp in sixth grade, and we’ve been inseparable since. He’s the true best friend in the way time and space don’t matter. Even without speaking for weeks or months, we remain thick as thieves.

  “What’s up, Mami? Dey have three openings left in the show. Come to New York, now, I know ju’ll get one of dem.

  “He wants to be exclusive.”

  My phone beeps and I see it’s René requesting FaceTime.

  I answer and mount my cell on the dash.

  “Dis is not an announcements for a phone call!”

  “I’m driving,” I giggle, giddy as hell. I call this feeling ‘The Lance Effect.’

  “All de stress dis week for nothing. Do ju have a picture?”

  “Don’t go there right now.”

  “Too soon?”

  “Wa
y too soon.”

  “Oh Mami, ju are glowing. I’m so happy for ju. So, he likes to play with balls too?”

  “Cute.”

  “Be careful dis one. If he’s too pretty, he probably got a mean streak.”

  “He can be bitchy but not with me. He’s patient with me. And I think you would love him.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him. Bring him at Christmas.”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “Ju know I miss ju so much. Is so cold here already. Did I tell ju, I’m with Ricky now?” René’s conversations are always a mile a minute and probably a result of a case of undiagnosed ADHD, but I’m always able to keep up.

  “Yeah. He’s the hot one?”

  “No, he’s de ugly one. I love him, I tink.”

  “You think?”

  “I don’t know. I’m feeling a little needy lately. When can ju come to New York?”

  “I told you before Christmas.”

  “I mean to live, Mami.”

  “Two and a half years?” It seems like a lifetime.

  “Do jour parents know what dey are doing to ju?”

  “They just want me with a diploma before I hand myself over to dance.”

  “Ju are de best dancer I know. Dis is a waste of jour youth. School can wait. Ju know Ricky got an audition to do a tour? He won’t tell me who with because he tinks I show up.”

  “You will.”

  “Does no one trusts me?”

  “I don’t. But I love you.”

  “Do me a favor, Mami, send me a picture of him shirtless, so if Ricky pisses me off, I can make him jealous.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “It was worth a shots.”

  “Shot.”

  “Shots are better.”

  “You’re so crazy.”

  “I have ta go, Mami, I have chickens in the oven. Love ju.”

  “This Jew loves you.”

  “Rainbows.”

  “Rainbows.”