Our Muted Recklessness (Muted Hopelessness Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  “My fucking god, Ashton, she’s practically a virgin. She’s already experienced trauma, and can be left further traumatized by the shit you’re doing to her in bed. Being friends is one thing, but sex—sex where she’s cast under a spell and with questions because she has no clue of the experienced circle you’ve been in since you were a damn child—is an entirely different matter!”

  NormaJean…

  I cracked a salacious grin. “Are you referring to my dick game, Trisha Gaskin?”

  “Don’t get cute with me, young man,” she snarled.

  “Then don’t impede on my personal life,” I countered.

  She took another deep breath, likely seeing how defenseless she was. Trisha grabbed her nose and shook her head softly. “I don’t mean to be bull-headed, it’s just that Tori’s dealing with a lot. She’s been through so much domestically—these two semesters alone—and someone has to protect her.”

  “You mean the fucker who assaulted her?” Trisha’s eyes blew the hell up. I moved toward the door, over this shit. “You think she’s just a fetish-worthy, impoverished tomboy toy for me. You ever think we actually have a connection?”

  Her head shook, eyes blank. “You’re not the same as her, Spencer.”

  I nodded, lips twisted around. “Thanks for revealing how you really think I’m a piece of rich shit, Gaskin.” I slammed the door, leaving her alone in the office.

  Marching toward the locking room, I ran into A.D. Jones.

  He stopped just a few feet in front of me. “The hell’s wrong with you, son?”

  I maintained my stride, hardly looking his way. “Keep your fuckin’ subordinate away from me.”

  I didn’t stop until I made it back to my assigned training room.

  As I shadowboxed the chilled air in the bleachers, I took in the beautiful picture in front of me. The track was so peaceful at night, no matter how cold it was. It was empty, and the lights brought out the small design details of the rubber. The BSU colors were a small notice, but detectable. It was dope.

  Movement from the aluminum bench beneath my feet had my attention go left and right until I saw Ashton walking my way. His big body was led by his head hanging low. Wide shoulders weighed from book bag straps, and his hands were tucked into the pouch of his sweatshirt. I watched him from the corner of my eye until he sat down facing the track.

  “Hey,” he grumbled.

  I sat, too. “Hey.” I finally turned to face him. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

  He messaged me, asking to meet him at the old track and field tonight. It was unexpected, but stealing away a moment with him couldn’t be denied.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve been out here waiting.” I shrugged.

  He pulled out his Blackberry for the time. Ashton faced the field again when he muttered, “I’m only a few minutes late.”

  I was joking about him being late. Yes, he was, but not that much. I wished he hadn’t taken it that seriously. That’s when I realized, he hadn’t smiled when our eyes met—if they met at all. Was something wrong?

  “How was your run?”

  I licked my lips. “Good.” My eyes swiped across the field remembering. “Did four miles.”

  “How long?” I could feel him looking my way, but my eyes stayed focused on the field.

  “Forty-one minutes.”

  “That ain’t it.” His words were a punch in the stomach. “You need to be at, at least, thirty minutes, but your goal should be thirty-six.”

  I didn’t respond. He was right, but it still hurt my feelings. I was used to my trainer, Tyrone, going hard, but Ashton’s words hit different.

  “How many pages are you into that English Lit paper?”

  I shrugged. “Three.”

  “It’s a six-page essay.”

  “It ain’t due ‘till next week.”

  “But you ain’t leaving time to edit it or to proof.” He was mad.

  Definitely mad…

  That hurt, too. Taking a deep breath, I shrugged again, not knowing what to say.

  “Do I scare you?”

  My head whipped his way. “What?”

  Ashton’s eyes were tight, concentrating. “Me. What we do with each other. Does any of that scare you?”

  “No.” Him asking made me scared. “Why you ask me that?”

  “Because you talk to Trisha about what we do together.”

  Suddenly, I couldn’t look at him. My eyes fell away.

  What the fuck did she tell him?

  “I—I’m sorry. What did she say?”

  Ashton’s head shook. “It’s not important—”

  “Then why you bring it up?”

  Why are you so tight?

  “Because I don’t want you scared of me.”

  My body twisted to him. “I’m not!”

  “You sure?”

  “I ain’t scared of nobody on this campus! Can’t nobody do shit to me but send me home!”

  And away from you…

  “All I’m saying is, you can talk to me about anything I do with and for you. We’re friends, Tori. I’m not here to clown or pity you. I’m here for an even exchange. I thought you knew that.”

  Even exchange. What’s that?

  “I know!” I snapped. “Look, I’m sorry for talking to Trisha—”

  “I’m not mad at you for talking to her.”

  Then why you bring her up?

  I didn’t know how to ask. Instead, I faced the track again.

  “I called you out here to make sure you know, there are no gimmicks, pranks, or fetishes happening between us. I know my situation’s fucked up with me training and all, but that don’t mean I’m the bad guy.

  Noooo…

  I turned to him. “I never…” I couldn’t finish it. “We’re good, Ashton!”

  He watched me for a while…studying me. My knees started bouncing on my toes with nervous energy until he finally broke his silence. “Okay. I’m happy.”

  I turned back to the field ahead and let go of a deep breath, not wanting to fight with him. The last thing I needed was Ashton as an enemy. I nodded after a while. Needing this to be over and for us to be cool again, I didn’t argue anymore. Maybe later on tonight or in the morning when I woke up, I could find the words. Should I ask to stay the night with him? Mornings with Ashton always seemed to feel new and…exciting.

  “Look…” He scratched the back of his head. “I’m tired, had a long day.” Thank you! Me, too! “I’ve got to check in on these damn pledges in the morning before training.”

  I nodded, face to the field. “Okay.” I was ready to turn down myself. My ass started to ache from the run and the tensing I’d been doing throughout this whole conversation. I stood to go, and so did Ashton.

  “I’mma head in to crash. I’ll hit you.” When his mouth met my cheek, I nodded at the same time, playing off my shock.

  Without leaving time for me to respond, Ashton took off in the direction he came in. I watched him leave the bleachers without looking back for me. Something in my chest felt…bad.

  With all the talking around me and being out of breath from my excitement, I shouted into the phone to my uncle June. “Yeah, man! Of course, I did. The fuck you think I did?”

  “Watch your damn mouth, Ashton Spencer!” my mother spit back.

  So fucking ecstatic, I had to remember they were all on the call with me on speaker.

  “My bad, Ma! I’m just so…” I couldn’t speak, so overcome with happiness.

  “I know, baby! Your aunt Tab here is proud of you,” my aunt Tabitha shared animatedly.

  “What you score on the broad jump?” I recognized Boobie’s voice in spite of all the chatter around me.

  My eyes grazed over to my agent, who was still talking to the representatives from the Connecticut Kings.

  The fucking Kings!

  They wanted to interview me here at the Combine. The Kings! The shit was unreal. I mean, I knew I’d make it here. I’d always been confident i
n myself, and I had the best training team around me, too. But being here amongst countless players, showcasing top tier skills felt surreal now that it was all over and I’d gotten all my scores, which was the advantage of being one of the last to go.

  “One hundred-ten inches,” I answered. “That’s two inches farther than the threshold for QBs.”

  “Damn! That’s what the fuck I’m talking about!” he shouted.

  I was fucking hyped.

  “What about the…the…” June sucked his teeth. “Damn! I’m so fuckin’ souped up, I can’t find my damn words! The forty-yard dash and the three-cone?”

  “Four-point-four eight for the forty-yard dash, which is point-two seconds better than my fastest time at…Blakewood.” I panted, fighting for oxygen, I was so worked up. “And…six-point-nine. That’s two-point…five seconds above the…threshold for QBs.” I needed to calm down and breathe or else I’d pass the hell out before talking to my dream team.

  “Shit, my nigga!” June shouted.

  “I ‘on’t know what those numbers mean, but they sound great, baby! I wish we could be there with you,” my mother cried.

  That broadened my already bright as hell beam.

  “I know,” I replied to her longing. “But I gotta go calm my ass down before I talk to the Kings. When Tamir gave me the final numbers, I called y’all right away.”

  “Hol’ up, my G!” Boobie yelled. “What about the short shuttle, ten-yard split, and twenty-yard split?”

  “Oh, ummm…” I scratched my head, looking down at Tamir’s chicken scratch handwriting on the paper he handed me. “For the ten-yard, one-point fifty-five seconds, and that was fifteen seconds above the threshold for QBs. The twenty-yard was two-point seven, which is point-fifteen seconds above the threshold. And…uhhhh…” I squinted my eyes looking. “…for the short shuttle, I did three-point nine. And that was point-three seconds above the threshold—but look, I gotta go. I’ll hit y’all later!”

  “Okay.”

  “A’ight, my nigga!”

  “Okie-doke, baby!” They all shouted at the same time.

  “Alright. Love y’all!”

  I ended the call and typed fast as hell into the phone to the one other person I wanted to share the news with.

  The phone rang on the other line as I peered over at Tamir Cook, who was still yapping it up with the Kings people. When the phone rang for the fourth time, disappointment filled my chest.

  C’mon…

  “Hey!” she was out of breath.

  My face split all the way the fuck open in a smile. I hadn’t heard her voice since that night at the track and field park. It had been fucking hell not speaking to her, but training was the perfect distraction. Then, the morning I left for Indianapolis, I got a message from Tori saying she believed in me and she wished me good luck. For some odd reason, hearing it from her meant more than the other calls and BBMs I’d gotten for the Combine. I was sure it was because Tori was an athlete, too.

  So, hell yeah. It felt good having her answer my call, and finally, I replied, “Hey…”

  “Well?” she snapped, sounding out of breath herself. “Boy, if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna punch the shit out of you when I see you. And I won’t care that your Prince of Zamunda ass bombed at the Combine.”

  Still cheesing hard, my forehead wrinkled. “What?”

  “Spence! I’m in the middle of training!” she screamed on me.

  I rubbed my chest, enjoying torturing her, and wishing I had more time. “Girl, you know I kicked ass out here.”

  A high pitch squawk cut through the line. My head pushed back in shock. It was so girlie, I had to look down at the name on the screen to be sure of who the hell I called.

  “Champion human!” she screamed.

  That was the best label she’d given me yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  -THEN-

  “You good, bro?” Al asked as we left the car and sauntered toward the house—I walked just fine; his ass limped.

  My attention was on the three-level beach house before me. It was bigger than it seemed in the pictures Andrea showed me. Dope as hell, nonetheless.

  “Yeah,” I answered Al. “I’m good.”

  It wasn’t true. I was grumpy as hell and glad to have landed. These past few months had totally reshaped my life. I had no damn clue what was normal anymore. The transition from college student to soon-to-be professional football player hadn’t been kind to me. I had no classes and yet still no down time.

  My personal life ceased to exist the moment I returned to BSU to begin training for the Combine. Once that was successfully completed, I was still in show horse mode. Blakewood hosted Pro Day last week. Just four days ago, we’d finished a day filled with the same measurable drills as the Combine, only this time, I did it alongside my fellow Panthers. Al performed, too, and it damn near killed his ass. Of course, I had more responsibilities and had to stick around longer than everyone else, which was why we were arriving at Macen Beach, South Carolina a couple of days after everyone else.

  “I’mma drop my shit on the back deck and go take a dip in the ocean, my G,” Al announced behind me, to which I simply nodded.

  I was restless and needed to dump my luggage in my room, so I headed into the house. The door was open, and the sounds of music from the back was replaced by blasting televisions.

  “Oh, hey, Spence!” Karmen stepped out of what I quickly made out as a bathroom. “You and Al just got here?”

  “Yeah.” My eyes swept all over the contemporary open-plan. “Where’s everybody?”

  “You mean Aivery?” She pointed. “She’s out on the beach, tanning. She’s been waiting on you. I can go get her…”

  “I’m good. Where’s my room?”

  “You’ve got the penthouse. Everyone’s hating, so be careful.” She winked.

  “Where’s everybody staying?”

  “Ummm…” She turned around. “DJ Paulie and Jerome are couching it here on the first floor, between the living room and lounge. There’s a bedroom down here where Dre claimed his spot. Me, Aiv, Andrea, ShawnNicole, and Al are up on the second floor.”

  I could feel my face go lax. “That’s it?”

  “Oh.” She popped her gum, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Tori and that mixed breed, Samantha, are splitting a room upstairs, too.”

  My chin dipped. “Samantha?” I didn’t know she’d be here.

  “Yeah. Her.” Karmen did a twirl, taking off for the back of the house.

  Did that shit make me even more upset? I considered it, taking two steps at a time to the third floor, passing ShawnNicole on the way.

  “You made it!” Her arms stretched wide, and I could sense her blotto right away.

  “I did.” I nodded, snickering at her silly ass. “I see y’all got it poppin’ already.”

  She smacked her lips, raising her colorful margarita glass in the air. “Yup. You know this Philly jawn gone get everybody right!”

  “The girls playing nice?”

  “Who? Aivery and ‘nem? She’s tight as hell about Samantha and Jerome being here.” She rolled her eyes. “They’ll be a’ight! Tori know how to deal with them when they act up anyway. Did you hear about how she whooped that Russian girl’s ass from USC?” She mimicked a fighter throwing air punches, cracking me the hell up. Hell yeah, I knew about last week’s fight. I watched it live from the sports complex. The University of Southern California had slept on Tori. “She ate that bitch up!”

  “Where is she?”

  “Tori? I ‘on’t know. She was playing pool downstairs.”

  “Okay. I’ll get up after I get settled in.”

  “Alright, love!” She continued downstairs.

  I pushed open the door on the side of the house, trying to remind myself to chill. This wasn’t the Blakewood campus. Discretion needed to be on one thousand out here. But fuck getting settled in. I hadn’t seen Tori since I returned to Blakewood from Indianapolis when we celebrated for a day and
a half, and made up for my withdrawal after being confronted by Trisha. She skipped out on classes that day, staying holed up with me at my apartment, overdosing on Margherita pizza and makeup/celebratory sex.

  I may not have been able to spend much time with Tori this semester, but word got around. DJ Paulie had been calling himself sniffing up her ass. They’d gone out on a few dates since last month. Tori and I didn’t waste much time talking about him or them. I didn’t even trip when I learned he was following her ass here for spring break. But now that I’d touched down and hadn’t seen her, it fucked with me.

  Where in the hell was she?

  Outside near the wooded area on the side of the house, I walked a narrow pathway until I heard a low voice. It was definitely Tori’s: one word answers, not many sentences. Her backside came into view with flip flops, dark pink bikini bottoms, and a netted, hot pink hood over her bikini top. She was being modest. I’d picked out and purchased every stitch of clothing she was wearing and knew the netted hoodie didn’t go with the bikini.

  “So, when’s that appointment?” Tori was alone, talking on her Blackberry. “Okay.”

  I stopped once a few feet away.

  “But she’s good, though. Right? Okay. Yeah. Cool.” She ended the call and dropped the phone near her thigh.

  Tori gazed out to the not so beautiful, undeveloped vista.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She turned my way, freezing at my presence. “When did you get here?”

  “That ain’t answering my question.”

  Tori sauntered over, her arms wrapped around me in a needy embrace. “I missed you.”

  “That don’t answer my question either.” I returned her embrace, feeling how tense I was up until this point.

  My palm gripped the side of her back when Tori’s nose grazed my neck. I could feel my dick awaken. Then she withdrew her head and peered over my shoulder to be sure we were alone.

  “Everyone seems to be at the beach. Now, tell me.”

  Tori shook her head. “It’s not a big deal. My mother’s been sick for a few months now. They’ve been sending her from doctor to doctor. This last one finally gave her a diagnosis.”