by Ali Dean
“She’ll know without me saying anything that I don’t like the guy. If I need to say more, I will. But I can’t stop her from seeing the fucker. I’m not her mother. She’s mine.”
Still, I know this is going to eat at Jace. His relationship with his mom doesn’t need any complications. It’s complicated enough on its own.
I’d mentioned the party to Jace earlier, telling him I wanted to at least stop in and say hi to my teammates. He didn’t seem enthused about going before the dinner, but now he’s driving directly to the frat.
I’ve never been to a frat party as a college student. I showed up at a couple last year with Jace, but I was only there for him then. He’d go briefly to say hello and appease his teammates, who gave him a hard time for rarely going out with them. But now, I have my own teammates at the party, and I wonder how that will play out. Will Jace hang with the cross team? Will I hang with the football players? Will we all hang together?
When both of us are approached and dragged in opposite directions, I’m not given much of an opportunity to contemplate the best approach to the social dynamics. Kiki spots me from across the lawn and beelines in my direction. She’s wearing tiny cotton shorts and a string bikini top and carrying a bottle of vodka. I’m not sure what I expected from my team captain, but this wasn’t it.
“Pepper! Where have you been?” She doesn’t sound accusatory, just perplexed as to my whereabouts. Before I can respond, she’s tugging me toward a makeshift bar where jello shots await. When I glance behind me, Jace is already surrounded by people. Oh well, it’s probably for the best I hang with my teammates for now anyway. He’s extra intimidating when he’s in a bad mood and I don’t want him scaring off my new friends.
Kiki doesn’t pressure me when I decline jello shots, but she does scold me for my lack of appropriate attire. “That’s a cute dress, Pepper, but where’s your bathing suit?”
Glancing around, I realize I’m the only girl out here not wearing a bikini. I’d considered throwing one in my bag when we left for dinner earlier, just in case, but I didn’t think everyone would actually wear bathing suits.
When Lexi approaches, she immediately joins Kiki in scolding me. “We even got Caroline to wear a bikini top!” Lexi beams, apparently proud of her ability to coerce our shy roommate into wearing something outside her comfort zone.
“No worries, my friends,” Kiki announces with a flourish. “I came prepared.”
I raise my eyebrows at Lexi as Kiki takes my arm and drags me into the frat house. She finds a bag under a pile of clothing and whips out a purple strapless bikini. Shoving it into my hands, she points to the bathroom behind me. “Go, change, we’ll wait here.”
“Do you have shorts? Most girls out there are wearing shorts.”
“Nope. You’ll be fine.”
With a huff, I take the bathing suit and head into the bathroom. I’ve got a wicked shorts tan line from all the running I do, but it’s dark out so hopefully I won’t look too ridiculous.
When I step out of the bathroom, covering myself with my dress self-consciously, Lexi tugs the dress away. “Just pretend you’re at the beach or a pool party. There is a makeshift pool thing set up, actually.”
“Ew. There’s no way I’m getting in that.” I probably sound like a snob, but seriously, I know what goes on at these parties and I’m sure there are all kinds of bodily fluids in there.
“Good call, Jones,” Kiki says with a nod as she leads us through the house. “Already saw a girl on the soccer team hurl in there.”
“Yum.”
Lexi giggles. “This is so much fun,” she says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “I love partying with my teammates.”
Lexi’s a little unsteady on her feet, and when we join the rest of the team on the lawn in the back yard, I discover she’s not the only one who’s had quite a bit to drink. My friends in high school drank at parties, and it makes sense the same thing would happen in college. But for some reason, I thought my teammates would be too serious about running to drink like other college students. It just doesn’t seem possible that these girls can run as fast as they do and still get drunk on the weekends. I suppose I should know better. I mean, I’ve seen how some of Jace’s teammates party, and they’re mostly scholarship athletes too.
It makes me wonder if I’m being silly by not drinking. I’m reminded that Jace is the best athlete at UC and he only had a beer or two once in a while. Even during the off season in the spring, when his teammates got drunk on a regular basis, Jace didn’t join them. Whoever would have thought Jace Wilder would be my inspiration for sobriety in college? The boy was the center of every party in high school.
A firm arm snakes around my bare waist, and I startle before recognizing the familiar body behind me. “There you are,” Jace says in my ear. When I smell alcohol on his breath, I frown and turn in his arms to look at him.
“You’re drinking?” I just thought of him as my inspiration, and now he’s changing his tune?
“Just one shot with Frankie,” he admits. “And this beer.” Jace holds up a red solo cup. He actually looks a little guilty, and I feel bad for sounding so accusatory. It wasn’t exactly a joyful dinner before we arrived here.
“Sorry, I was just surprised. You don’t drink much anymore.”
“I just thought I’d take the edge off after listening to Lance the fucker for an hour.”
I laugh. “Are you ever going to be able to say his name without a curse involved?”
“No,” he says darkly.
We both seem to notice simultaneously that the commotion from a slip ‘n’ slide competition has dwindled, and instead people are watching us. I blame Jace having taken his shirt off. Sure, every other guy here is shirtless and some are actually wearing Speedos, but my boyfriend’s chest truly is quite remarkable. Jace, however, blames my bathing suit.
“Pepper, what the hell are you wearing?” He pulls back to glance at me, and I wonder how he missed my lack of clothing when he first approached.
I roll my eyes. “Kiki made me. Blame her!” I point in Kiki’s direction, and she’s looking our way. She grins back with an innocent little wave, undaunted by Jace’s glare.
“This is not appropriate for a frat party,” he says so earnestly, I can’t help the tug of a smile on my lips.
“Jace, baby, look around. Every girl here is wearing the same thing.” My voice is sweet and a little patronizing. He can get so “roar” about other guys looking at me, it’s cute.
He doesn’t look around, he just pulls me to him, like he can hide my body with his. “Maybe, but you attract more attention than any of them.” With a shudder, he whispers, “I can practically feel the vultures circling. I’m not leaving your fucking side unless you put more clothes on.” I think he’s partially kidding, but I don’t mind his possessiveness. I’m not keen on being approached by drunk guys looking for a hookup anyway. Vultures lurking or not, I’m just happy with Jace Wilder at my side.
Chapter 4
Jace
Pepper’s warm body tucked under my arm keeps me calm. We split up when we got to this party, and my anxiety level skyrocketed. My brain is stuck on my mom’s boyfriend. I don’t want him in our lives. I’m really tempted to break that shit up. He’s not good for my mom, yet she’s into him. The fucker has charmed her somehow. He’s got the kind of face some girls like and he’s in decent shape. The jerk might have some money – at least, he acts like he does – but my mom didn’t strike me as someone so shallow. It really pisses me off. What is she thinking? Was she with loser druggies for so long that she thinks that’s all she deserves?
My blood was starting to boil and I took a shot with the guys. I can’t even remember the last time I did that, but my teammates were amped to keep it going with me and that’s when I knew I needed Pepper. She brings me out of the dark when it’s threatening to suck me under.
I’m trying real hard to give her enough space to do her thing. She’s a freshman, and she doesn’t nee
d me shadowing her as she makes new friends and figures out college life. But shit, my mom’s boyfriend has me ready to hit something, and I know I can’t go there. It’s her life. If we had a more normal mother-son relationship I might get in the middle of her love life, but I’m afraid she’ll chose him over me if I try to interfere. My thoughts are my enemy right now, and that’s why Pepper’s going to have to stay glued to my side.
The expansive lawn is littered with girls showing off their summer tans. Some of them barely have their boobs covered, but the female skin assaulting my vision doesn’t affect me. The only body I’m interested in is safely in my arms as we take in the scene around us.
I’ve been paying attention to the UC cross team since I was a freshman. I knew Pepper would be on the team, and these people will be her scene. The men’s and women’s teams are close, which I actually like because it means they watch out for each other and keep to themselves more than some of the other athletes. The girls don’t seem bitchy, though a couple of them sleep around. I’ve heard Trish’s name come up amongst the guys a few times. I’m not worried. The cross team’s probably the best social group to look out for her, and I’m relieved she’s not joining a team full of drama queens or fuck-ups. There are more than a few like that.
Pepper tilts her head up to look at me. “The slip ‘n’ slide is calling my name,” she admits with a grin.
She looks so damn excited.
“Is it, now?”
Pepper picks up on the mischief in my voice and she narrows her eyes suspiciously. Then, without warning, she ducks out from under my arm and sprints away. Instantly, I feel the loss of her body pressed next to mine, but I quickly recover from the shock and chase after her. The girl can run, no doubt about it, but she doesn’t have my speed.
I catch her just as she dives onto the slip ‘n’ slide, head first. I’ve forgotten to toss my beer, and the red solo cup is still in one hand as my other arm snakes around her. We rush downhill together, my body covering hers as she squeals, uninhibited and totally wrapped up in the moment, in me. Not wanting to crush her I roll onto my back, taking her with me, and our momentum slows when we hit the grass, though it’s slick from hose water running down all night, and we glide a little farther before coming to a halt.
Beer from my cup has spilled all over Pepper’s chest, and it takes some willpower not to kiss and lick it off. There are gawkers taking this in, and I’m all too aware that Pepper Jones in a bikini is a powerful image. I’m not about to let her star in anyone’s visual fantasies but mine.
I revel in Pepper’s laughter before pulling her up to her feet with me, and limit myself to a kiss on her shoulder before wrapping my arm protectively around her waist.
She feels so good right here with me, her wet skin sliding against mine as we walk back up the hill. A lot more people are out back now, and it seems my teammates have made their way from the front lawn too. I’m used to eyes following me, and I’m proud to show everyone that yeah, we are a fucking perfect couple. We fit together. We look right together. We feel right together. She makes me happy, brings me a peace I can’t find anywhere else. Not by working out, playing football, or drinking with the guys. With Pepper at my side, my mom’s boyfriend doesn’t mean shit to me.
Chapter 5
After a couple of weeks of preseason with just the athletes on campus, the rest of the students show up, and there’s an energy in the air I’ve never experienced before. When I walk between lecture halls on my first day of college classes, it’s overwhelming how many new faces there are. It’s a relief I’ve already made friends and established myself on the cross team. Because even with that, I feel pretty lost.
I’m checking the numbers on the doors as I walk down a hallway, looking for freshman English, when I bump into a solid chest.
“Oh, sorry.” I quickly step back and look up to apologize. I have to tilt my head back quite a ways before my eyes land on Clayton Dennison. I try to hide my grimace.
His eyes twinkle in amusement. “I was wondering if you were going to notice me here or just walk right into me. Guess it’s my lucky day. I don’t get pretty girls slamming into me every morning, you know.”
My body tenses at his words. Is he seriously flirting with me? Doesn’t he know better by now? Maybe he’s just one of those guys who can’t help it, like Brax Hilton.
“You were waiting for me to bump into you? You didn’t think about stepping aside?”
Clayton shrugs, still smirking. “Are you lost? Where you headed?”
“Room 312.” Clayton has an uncanny ability to show up just when I need rescuing. Not that I really need it right now, but I certainly don’t want to be late for my first class, and, judging by the hurried steps of those still in the hallway, class is about to start.
Clayton nods. “That’s Mack Hall.” He points behind him and I spin to find open double doors.
“Thanks,” I say shortly before hurrying inside. I don’t look back at Clayton.
After I slip into a seat near the back, Caroline takes the one beside me. “Sweet, we’re in the same class,” I greet her with a grin.
“So, who was that guy in the hallway? You seemed to know him.”
“Oh, yeah. He went to my high school. He’s a senior.”
“Damn, what’s in the water at your high school, Pepper? It’s a breeding ground for hot dudes. Your boyfriend, Ryan Harding, and that guy.” She pretends to fan herself. Apparently Caroline is chatty when it’s one on one. Interesting.
“Well, Ryan only moved to Brockton his senior year when his dad became the UC coach, but yeah, Brockton’s got some hot guys, I won’t argue with that.” She should see Wesley Jamison, Jace’s half-brother. He holds his own.
“It’s like the home of the beautiful and athletic. A little different from my dumpy hometown.”
“I thought you were from Las Vegas? Honestly, I didn’t even know real people lived there.”
She laughs. “A suburb of Vegas.”
“Gotcha.”
“So what sport does that guy in the hallway play? I know an athlete when I see one.”
Sighing, I indulge her curiosity. “That’s Clayton Dennison.” I wait for a reaction and when I see she doesn’t know who he is, I tell her. “He’s the baseball pitcher. And he’s probably going to the Major Leagues when he graduates.”
She whistles under her breath. When the professor arrives and draws our attention to her, I’m relieved. Clayton Dennison is complicated. He’s not someone I want to think about, and until today, I haven’t really had to in a while.
Last year, Clayton had helped save me from crazy Savannah Hawkins. The first time, he got me out of a public situation when she drugged me – yes, she put roofies in my drink – during my official recruit visit at UC. The second time, he was the first at the scene when she hit me with her car. So when I say crazy, I mean crazy.
Before those episodes, Jace was worried Clayton was going to be a problem. In high school, Clayton’s reign at Brockton Public was tainted by the presence of Jace Wilder, and when Jace became a student at UC last fall, the same thing was happening all over again for Clayton. Jace once again became the hottest athlete on campus as a freshman, and it looked like Clayton was going to target me in order to bring Jace down a notch.
But he must have changed his tune after realizing we had our own issues without his interference. Last time I asked Jace about Clayton, he said there was nothing going on there. Clayton backing off could also have been because Jace didn’t really go out much, and kept a low profile. Clayton could still pretend to be the top dog in the social scene, though when Jace did show up at parties, it was an even bigger deal because it was so rare. Either way, Clayton backed off. At least, he had stopped his flirtations with me. Until today.
I would have to give Jace a heads-up. He didn’t like it when I kept stuff like this from him, and after all we’d been through, I didn’t blame him. Jace had stalkers and enemies and people who wanted to challenge him, felt threaten
ed by him. Staying in the loop as to who these people were and what they had on their agenda was simply part and parcel of being with Jace Wilder. We’d had a reprieve from drama since the Savannah Hawkins showdown, but that didn’t mean we were in the clear for good.
After my morning classes, I’m excited to meet Jace for lunch. He texted me this morning to meet him at Molly’s Deli. It’s off campus, which allows us to eat together without all our teammates. I like that he makes time for just the two of us, especially today, my first day of college classes. I’m already worried about all my assignments and I want to vent my worries to Jace and get his take on the syllabi for the classes I’ve had so far.
Jace isn’t waiting for me when I arrive, so I find a little table in the back and wait. It feels good to take off my backpack. College text books are seriously heavy and we don’t have lockers to go to between classes like high school. Ten minutes later, and still no Jace. I’ve checked my phone for a text, because he’s rarely late to meet me, but there’s nothing. Eventually, my stomach is growling so I order two sandwiches. Maybe by the time Jace gets here they’ll be ready.
But he never shows. I call him, text him, eat my sandwich. I’m a little worried. He always has his phone on him. I can’t imagine he forgot our lunch date and his phone. Something must be up.
My anxiety increases as the day goes on, and when there’s still no word by practice, it’s morphed into anger. I’d take out my emotions on the workout, but it’s just an easy recovery run today. The anger mixes with worry when I don’t see him at Chapman Hall with the rest of his teammates at dinner.
Frankie, Jace’s roommate, catches my eye from across the cafeteria. He tilts his head toward the hallway leading to the restrooms and I nod. My heart is racing when I see his stern expression. I try not to let my mind wander but all I can think is that he’s in the hospital. That something horrible happened to him. I don’t know why my mind goes straight there, but it does.
I find Frankie’s large frame leaning against the wall, arms crossed. We stand facing one another, each searching the other’s expression.
