Like I said, military bearing. A guy who brooked no bullshit.
“What can I do for you, Coach?”
“You know the Liotta situation?”
“Of course.”
“He’s out. You’re in. It’s as easy as that.”
I exhaled in relief. “Okay, thanks so much, Coach. But I started in the last game and did a pretty good job, why are we even really having this conversation? Unless you’re telling me we’re just swapping spots, and he’s the new backup?”
Coach ran his hands through his buzzcut. “Liotta’s exhausted all his possible appeals with the university. He’s lost his scholarship. I was the one who decided he couldn’t possibly continue after what he did. But I want you to think back to what I just said: it’s as easy as that.”
I frowned. “Okay…”
“That means if you pull a psychotic drug-induced scandal, you’re out, and I’ll find myself a new starting quarterback even if I have to scout every department for someone even resembling your sort of build myself. I’m not going to tolerate any more of this hedonistic bullshit from you and the boys.”
“I’m not that kind of guy, Coach,” I tried to express to him.
“You better not be,” he said, shaking his head. “Son, if you do this right, I’m sure you’re probably a year or two away from getting in the best possible position for the draft.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I felt like I was already ready. Why was he telling me I needed a couple of years more of development? Did he think I was going to wait until senior year to start playing ball as a pro?”
“I know that look,” he said, pulling himself forward with his fists planted to his desk. “You think I’m being too slow on you. That you’re talented enough to make it already.”
Not wanting to confirm his suspicion, I didn’t answer him.
“People push themselves too much, son. Take it from me. I sure did. Look, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. It seemed like a no-brainer to you that Liotta’s out, but aside from that stupid YouTube video, nobody would have really cared. I could’ve made that whole scandal go away. Probably talk the dean into giving our boy a chance, explain how he was our best hope to really show Division I what Florida could do.”
I winced. I was right. Coach Frost really stuck by his man.
“But he took advantage of the trust I had for him, and talent or no talent, I’m not letting anybody break the team. I know you’ve got a lot of gossip surrounding you, so don’t let that blow up in your face. Now’s the time for you to be working hard.”
I nodded, standing up. “You’ll discover you were right to trust me, Coach.”
“Better as hell be, son,” he said. I couldn’t get over how it didn’t feel weird at all that a guy who was barely in his early thirties could call me ‘son’ and make it sound more like the case than my dad. “Now I have more calls to make. We’re also going to think about moving some guys around, try different positions — gonna need a new quarterback, after all.”
“Gotcha, Coach,” I said, nodding. “Thank you again.”
“Thank yourself after you put in the practice and kick Kentucky’s ass for us in the next game. Now get out of here.”
As soon as I left the coach’s office, hopping over to my car parked across from the entrance to the athletic department, my phone rang.
It was my dad.
“When are you going to stop focusing on childish pursuits and just come work for the company like you’re meant to, son?” he said, without even a greeting.
Son.
It sounded mocking coming from Sergio Howard. He was my dad, yes, and I spent all my life looking up to him even when our family broke apart and everybody but him suffered for it… but I couldn’t help but react with an instinctive pride when he called me his son, even if he insulted my biggest passion in life in doing so.
“I’m not interested in having this conversation,” I said, my voice dropping low.
“Because you’d rather celebrate instead?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, maybe just because you’ve wasted enough hours to get a starting spot on your school’s football team. It’s been a frustrating year for you, hasn’t it? Now things are finally getting back on track,” he said.
This was my dad, alright. He loved to stand over me like this, dismiss me for wanting something other than to follow in his footsteps.
“Join the company, son. The school’s sent me your academic transcript so far and it’s not looking great. You’re just wasting your time outside of the football, which to me is an even bigger waste of time. So how about you make a graceful exit right now?”
I laughed in his face. I wished this was a video call, so I could see how ridiculous he was, trying to pull a stunt like this.
“You’re pretty well-informed, Dad.”
“I know everything. That’s the perk of having all this money and power, son. One day you’ll learn that. You don’t get to where I am without being able to know everything just as it happens.”
I didn’t care if Coach Frost and him were texting buddies, all I knew was I wanted him out of my hair.
“You spoken to your mother lately?” my father continued. “I’m sure she’s got it in her head that you’re going to mess up and end up injured with your lifelong dream broken. Just quit while you’re ahead, Bryant. You have a place in the company. Stop wasting your time in Florida and come to New York. At least I can groom you for bigger things.”
“Don’t you bring Mom up like that,” I said, icy and unhappy.
“Honestly, if you just wanted to keep an interest in football, just buy a team. I’ve got the money. You want that for your birthday?”
“Fuck off, Dad,” I hissed. I was done with him taunting me.
He really got to me. I couldn’t believe that big news like this could be soured so quickly by a phone call, but he did that.
When I got back to my apartment, I decided I was going to do nothing for the rest of the week except practice and study.
I was here for a reason. College football was the proving ground where I was going to meet my destiny of playing pro.
My dad could taunt me all he wanted, but I was ready to use all that bitterness and resentment to fuel my determination to be the very best quarterback I could be.
I couldn’t afford to ignore school, either. My scholarship was why I was here — if I just wanted to go to any school on Ward Beer money, I’d be someone I could never be proud of.
After all, I earned all this. And the only thing that mattered to me right now was earning up to my potential.
Locking my door and planting myself straight down on my bed, I took my phone out and hoped I could at least distract myself by texting someone.
Mia had a message for me.
“We’re going to Ciccio on Saturday,” she told me.
Wow. Really? I texted her back at once. “That’s a pretty expensive place. Are you buying for all four of us?”
“As if. You’re paying.”
“That’s the Mia Cowell I know, alright.”
I saw the Typing… text bubble show up. She had some sassy retort she was about to send me.
But she didn’t.
So I sent her another message instead. “I feel like this is some kind of prank. I’m not going to end up going only to find out I’m having a date with Fiona dressed like you, am I?”
“Nope. But you’re right to be on your toes. Serves you right for a change.”
I grinned, planting my phone down so I could charge it.
Well, at least I had something to look forward to now. A date.
I don’t remember the last time I actually had a proper date like that. I’m not really a date night kind of guy — I do parties, I do hookups, and I have girls who won’t leave me alone until I gently, or not so gently, end things with them.
For Mia Cowell to be the one to take me out on a date, even if it felt suspiciously staged and planned�
�� well, let’s just say I was willing to go along with this for as long as I could.
When Saturday night finally arrived, I was dressed to impress. New tailored shirt, a navy blue blazer with an Italian cut. Skinny jeans that hugged my legs and showed off just how muscular I was.
“Pick me up at my dorm.”
She sent me the location. Yeah, just as I thought. It was Sam’s dorm building.
I drove over as fast as I could, hoping Sam wouldn’t be there. Maybe this was a girl gang thing, that I’d drive over and be surrounded by a bunch of empowered women ready to dump all their resentment over men like me.
But no, it was just Mia wearing a cute little purple and gold halter dress sitting on a bench in front of the entrance.
She smiled as I drove my Mercedes right up to her, lowering the window. “Miss Cowell, I presume?” I said.
“Mr. Howard.”
“You know, part of me was sure I was going to be surprised by like, fifty girls, all of them ready to throw eggs at me.”
“I did consider a plan like that,” Mia said, her smile widening. “But since you’re paying for dinner, I’m deciding to be nice. I love Italian. This place better impress. Have you been?”
“Not really. The guys and I generally meal-plan throughout the week. I know, I know, it’s boring.”
Mia slipped into the passenger seat.
I didn’t move, glancing back at the dorm building.
“Don’t worry. Marvin and Sam already left for the restaurant.”
“Whew,” I said, closing my eyes in relief. “So… what gives? Is this actually a date, then? You’re gonna forgive all those years of me tormenting you just because your drunken, stoned best friend put you to a dare?”
“Let’s just say I’m trying out something new,” Mia said. “And that something new is to be open to the possibility that people are capable of change.”
Now I was the one who was surprised. No matter what I felt about how Mia was being uptight, I knew that she had her head in the right place, and that more often than not her being uptight was the product of her being overly righteous because she felt she had to stand by her principles.
The truth was, I had been a dick to her. It didn’t stop. I let it continue, I even had fun doing that. I was actively a bully. So this was definitely a surprise.
She was okay with me being quiet on the drive to the restaurant, thinking hard about all this.
Well, if she was sincere, I was going to be a gentleman. I could do that, hell, I owed it to her.
We were vibing really well, honestly. Even in the silence, it felt comfortable. Like for once, all the years we had spent growing up together just made sense, that it gave us some sort of shared history that left us at ease with each other.
I had instantly got that feeling from hanging out with Samantha during freshman year, but it wasn’t as strong as this. This felt… a little spooky just how comfortable it was.
We had a table inside and the maitre’d immediately showed us to it. “Best table in the house. Reservation for Cowell,” he said in a silky voice, handing us menus. “Your friends have been waiting for you, but rest assured, they have been making full use of their time.”
By that he meant they weren’t able to get their hands off each other.
Marvin and Sam were making out intensely. I almost felt like a voyeur being there, watching them get at it.
My best friend and my ex-girlfriend locking lips — and mouths, and tongues. I wasn’t a very jealous guy, and besides, I didn’t want Sam anymore.
But this felt a little gross, even if I knew I was being put up to this by a vengeful Sam.
Mia turned to me, touching my elbow. “Let’s just think about what we’re going to order.”
I couldn’t ignore the almost-pornographic make-out session taking place across from me. “Uh, you choose.”
“You sure?”
Sam pulled herself away from Marvin’s mouth long enough to breathily instruct Mia to order for her too. “Just order the best things for four people. Real fancy, whatever you want.”
Mia glanced at me, waiting for my take on this. I was grimacing, watching Marvin aggressively kiss Sam’s neck, his hands pawing at her boobs against her sweater.
“Marvin, man! Seriously. Keep it together. Save that for later.”
He came to, finally realizing I was there. “Oh shit, sorry, man.”
“I don’t mind you getting some action, but this is a classy establishment. Let’s wait until we’re, you know, done with the food. Or in this case, ordering the damn food, first.”
Marvin grinned. “I don’t know if I can wait.”
Sam shook her head, playfully swatting at Marvin’s beefy chest. “You better. This is a double date, not a Mia and Bryant one-on-one.”
A waiter had come to take the order and Mia took it upon herself to decide what we were going to have.
Under the table, I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” I mouthed to her.
She didn’t respond. I think she was actually… surprised that I was so grateful.
But now I was right back at the uncomfortable scene of having to watch Sam and Marvin just go at it together. Fucking hell, it was like they were desperately trying to get every inch of their bodies pressed together.
“This is so weird,” Mia whispered in my direction. “I’m actually not okay with this.”
“Tell me about it.”
Sam looked over at her best friend, and I caught her wink at Mia.
I pushed my back against the chair, feeling like I got ensnared in a trap of my own making. Of course there was an agenda here. Mia was a pawn, just like I was. Sam wanted revenge, so she probably put her up to asking me out on a date, with the specific intention of turning it into this… weird, twisted scene.
“I’m gonna need some air,” I said, trying to look away. “Have a smoke or something.”
“You don’t smoke,” Sam taunted, in between kisses with Marvin.
Mia stood up too. “Neither do I, but I could do with a bit of fresh air. I feel like you two have sucked it all out of the room.”
“Sounds about right,” Sam smiled.
“Okay, we’re going,” Mia said, pulling at my hand.
We made it outside, just looking at each other without trading any words.
Sam actually stopped making out with Marvin as she watched us leave.
I think she was staring daggers at me. That was some real hate. I shuddered. I was used to girls being pissed off at me, but Sam looked like she was going to do everything she could to make me feel terrible.
Mia exhaled when we were finally outside. “Like I said, that was weird as fuck.”
“Seriously.”
“I… I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Because you have to deal with all this. And because, you know, if Marvin and Sam stay together, she’ll probably keep doing this to you. She can be pretty vengeful.”
“Learned from the best, am I right?” I said, trying not to sound too accusatory as I nudged my chin in her direction.
She smiled. “Hey, I’m good at what I’m good at.”
We went quiet again.
Everything just felt… comfortable.
I didn’t even mind that I had to deal with Sam and Marvin all night tonight. Part of my mind had already skipped forward and imagined having to hear Sam make loud sex noises back home when she inevitably hooked up with Marvin, but at least here with Mia I could forget all about that.
She was looking at me.
This wasn’t a malicious stare, not like Sam’s glare. She was being kind.
I felt my guard drop.
I had to kiss her.
So I did.
7
Mia
I was reeling from the kiss and now that warmth was flooding to my face again and I could think straight, I realized we had been smoking right outside a window within direct view of our table.
Which could only mean one
thing.
I pushed Bryant off me and dared myself to look to our table.
Sam had seen me. She was already standing up, tossing a napkin to the floor, ready to storm out.
“Sam!” I whispered to Bryant, hitting his broad chest with both my fists, unhappy that drama kept chasing after us.
I didn’t have time to process the kiss. Not now. Not when I needed to get to Sam, explain that it wasn’t what she thought.
Or was it? I couldn’t even tell anymore. I thought of myself as this straight-laced, smart girl who knew what she was doing and could trust her sense of judgment, but now things were just spiraling out of control.
From being a bit player to a mess of Sam’s making, I was now mired in my own mess. This drama was now becoming swamp-like.
I also became incredibly conscious of all the people in town. People waiting for their ride-shares, people smoking outside restaurants and bars, people closing up shop.
Any one of them could know who Bryant was, could spark the rumor mill over our kiss.
I wasn’t even enrolled in Florida University yet and I had already seen the way gossip spreads here. I didn’t want to be the new girl in town splashed all over that YouTube gossip vlog channel run by that Fiona goth chick.
“Go,” Bryant said, moving out of my way.
I rushed to Sam.
Marvin stayed seated as Sam bolted her way out of the restaurant. My best friend briefly tried to glance around for alternate exits as she saw me walk back into the restaurant, but unless she wanted to exit through the kitchen, she had to face me. I could at least explain things to her.
But Sam was Sam. She chose to turn around and power-walk to the kitchen. Her heels clacked loudly along the restaurant’s marble floor, and I had to navigate around tables of irritated diners, apologizing as I tried to get to Sam.
Marvin laughed as he watched. I could tell from his face that he knew what all this was about. He must have witnessed the kiss, too.
She was midway through the kitchen, dodging busy cooks and waiters when I caught up with her.
Hating Him Wanting Him : A Contemporary Romance Collection Page 20
