Personal Foul

by Hayley Faiman

  Fuck. I’m probably making a mistake.

  I decide to text her back, giving her a time where it’s obvious that I’m only there for sex and nothing else.

  I’ll be there around eleven.

  I continue working, studying my new freshman recruits until it’s time for me to head home, shower, and go to Brittany’s. I don’t bother getting too dressed up after my shower, deciding to wear a pair of old worn, jeans and a faded blue t-shirt. I run my hand through my short hair, noticing that the ends are getting a little long and I probably need a cut.

  I pull into Brittany’s familiar driveway. Her townhouse has its own driveway and garage. I know her little white Corolla is parked inside. I dated Brittany for over a year and we broke up about a year ago, but we keep doing this. We keep texting each other when we need to fuck, and that’s all it is. There’s no emotion in what we’re doing, no feelings of love or hate, just void—at least for me, anyway.

  Every single time I come over, she tries for more; and every single time, I have to shake her. She is definitely just someone I used to know. She’s comfortable, she’s warm, and she’s available; however, I make no promises. She’ll get a little clingy for a few weeks after tonight, then she’ll leave me alone until the next time. It’s a pattern, an unhealthy as fuck pattern, but a pattern all the same.

  I slam my pickup truck door closed and jog over to her porch. I don’t even have to lift my hand to ring the bell. The door opens immediately, and there she is, wearing nothing but a light pink, satin robe. It’s left open, and I can see the center of her chest, down to her belly, and her white lace covered pussy.

  I don’t bother speaking as I step inside and shut the door closed behind me. I wrap my hand around hers and pull her toward her bedroom. My cock is already growing hard at the anticipation of getting wet inside of her warm pussy.

  “Cole,” she murmurs once we’re inside of her bedroom.

  Turning to her, I gather her in my arms without saying a word, and slip my hand beneath her panties. Shoving my fingers inside of her waiting cunt, I pump in and out of her. She lets her head fall back, her shorter, dark brown hair falling around the tops of her shoulder blades when she does. With a hum, she rolls her hips, searching for more friction against her clit. When I know she’s close, I pull out of her body and instruct her to get on the bed.

  Brittany does as I’ve said and crawls onto the bed. I watch as she shimmies her panties down, grabbing them in her hand before flinging them across the room. She then spreads her thighs and bends over—head down ass up, just the way I like her.

  Grabbing a condom from my jeans, I shove my pants down past my hips before I roll it on. I thrust inside of her in one swift motion with a moan.

  When she pushes against me, I wrap one hand around the back of her neck and slip the other around her hip, pressing two fingers against her clit as I fuck her. I don’t stop until she’s screaming, I’m sweating, and I’ve emptied my balls, filling the tip of the condom with my cum.

  “Until next time?” she pants as I pull out of her and lift my jeans over my hips. I tie a knot in the condom and take it to the trashcan in her bathroom.

  “Whenever that is,” I shrug as I turn around.

  “Cole?” she calls out. I halt and turn to face her. She’s a sweaty mess in the center of her bed, but she’s got a smirk on her lips from her climax not long ago. “You need me, you call. Anytime you feel like fucking, I’m down; you know that.”

  Lifting my chin, I turn and leave her. Yeah, I know she’s down anytime at all. I also know that if it happens too often, she forgets that we aren’t together. She starts inching her way into my life, and I don’t need her brand of crazy as a constant. I went through that shit once, never again.

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  JESSA

  MARGIE WRAPS ME in her arms and gives me a tight squeeze. “Watch out for my boy. Keep an eye on him. Keep him grounded,” she whispers. “Take care of him.”

  Taking a step back from her, I turn to see Jim talking to Trent. His face is tight, and I know he’s giving him a lecture. Margie knows Trent. She’s his mother, and although she thinks he hangs the moon, she’s also not blind to the kind of boy he is. He’s cocky, he’s self-centered, and when it comes to his school work, he’s lazy.

  “I will,” I whisper. She cups my cheek.

  “I know you will, Jessa. You’re such a blessing to us. How we ever got so lucky to have you in our lives I’ll never know,” she smiles. It looks almost sad before she rearranges her features and turns toward Trent.

  Next thing I know, Jim has me in a huge bear hug, and I giggle. He really is the father I never had, warm and loving, a true gentle giant. He tells me to be good and to have fun.

  Fun.

  I don’t really know what fun is. My entire life has been trying to avoid becoming my mother, working hard in school, and staying on the straight and narrow, for both me and Trent.

  It only takes Trent and I a few more minutes, until our seatbelts are fastened, in his beat-up Chevy pickup. He brings the engine to life with a roar and turns toward Lincoln. It’s only a four-and-a-half-hour drive, but it feels like we’re headed to a completely different world. I suck in a breath as I look out the window. I’ve only ever been to Ogallala, the next town over from Grant, for groceries and necessities. This entire experience is something completely out of my comfort zone, and I’m terrified.

  “How about some road head?” Trent asks, taking me away from my thoughts.

  My eyes widen as I turn to him. He’s got a smirk on his face as his wrist dangles on the top of the steering wheel. “I don’t think so,” I whisper.

  “Fuck, Jess, you have zero sense of adventure. It’s a wonder you’re even coming to Lincoln,” he snorts. I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t really an option, though.”

  Trent pulls over to the side of the road and I turn to him as he throws the truck into park. His eyes are dark, almost black, and his face is menacingly scary. I know this look. I hate this look. He reaches up and wraps his hand around the back of my head and yanks me down across the bench seat.

  Soundlessly, he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. I don’t bother fighting him. He’s in a mood. Maybe he’s sad about leaving his parents’ house, maybe he’s nervous about his new football team. Who knows?

  I open my mouth and he holds my head down as he fucks me. It isn’t nice, it isn’t gentle, and he doesn’t give a shit if I can breathe or not. I close my eyes and try not to cry. It only pisses him off more if I do. When he comes down my throat, I’m relieved that he’s finished.

  He releases me, and I wipe the sides of my mouth as I settle back into my seat. Then he quietly rearranges himself before he pulls back onto the highway. We don’t speak of what just happened. We never do when he’s like this. It’s something that he just does.

  About two hours into our trip, he stops so that we can use the restroom. He then buys a couple of burgers and milkshakes before we get back on the road. He smiles as he reaches over and squeezes my thigh, his mood shifting. I let out an exhale, glad that he’s back to being happy and out of his darkness.

  “I think it’s bullshit that we have to live on campus,” Trent grumbles as we arrive at the school.

  I’m completely blown away by the sheer size of the buildings. They’re bigger than anything I’ve ever seen before in my life. I can’t believe that this place, this school, all of it is really happening. I don’t care where I live. I could be in a closet somewhere and I’d be happy.

  “We’re under nineteen, Trent. It’s the rules,” I state, unable to look away from the gorgeous campus.

  I didn’t get to come with Trent and his parents when they went on a campus tour. I didn’t get to go with them when they visited any school. I had to housesit and do homework, something my weekends always consisted of. Doing homework for two people is consuming and left little time for myself, or anything else, especially when I had to be at Trent’s games and practices.

  He
grunts as he ambles out of the truck. I take out my phone and look at my email with my roommate and dorm assignment. Pressing my legs together, I try to keep my knees from knocking in nervous-excitement. It’s all really happening. I’m really here.

  “Get your shit out, babe. My dorm is on the other side, and I have to drive over there,” Trent announces from the front seat of his truck.

  I huff out a breath and turn to him. “You’re not going to help me?” I ask as my mouth drops open a bit.

  “Jess, you’re not the only one who has to move in today. I have my own shit to take care of. I’ll come by in a few hours and we’ll do dinner or something,” he shrugs.

  I try not to let my disappointment show. In all honesty, this isn’t anything new. I grab the two duffle bags from the back of his truck and stand to the side, trying to figure out how I’m going to carry them both inside. Trent backs up and takes off without so much as a wave goodbye.

  “Need some help?” Someone asks from behind me. I turn to see a girl with a kind smile aimed right toward me. I nod and say thanks as I pull my keycard out of my pocket for the doors. “Your brother’s a dick,” she states as we lug my bags toward the door.

  “He’s not my brother, he’s my boyfriend,” I confess. Her eyes widen.

  “Seriously?”

  I nod, because Trent is a dick. Always has been, even when we were five. He’s incredibly selfish, but he’s also all I’ve ever known, and he doesn’t abuse me. His family—god, I love his family—they’re incredible and so giving.

  I have hope that one day he’ll become more like them, when he’s finished playing sports and he doesn’t have to be the big jock anymore. When we’re just Jess and Trent. When we’re married with our own family, I know that he’ll be more like his parents—I hope.

  “I’m Ines, by the way,” the girl says.

  The name rings a bell, and I grin. This is my roommate. She’s tall and curvy, with long dark hair and chocolate eyes. Her skin tone is a dark olive and absolutely flawless. She looks like she could be of Latin heritage. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

  “I’m Jessa. I think we’re roommates,” I murmur.

  She grins, “Awesome. I was afraid I would get some goth girl who was into cutting or something. You seem sweet as pie. Where are you from?” she asks as we drag my bags toward our room.

  “Grant, Nebraska” I shrug.

  She laughs and its deep, husky, and totally sexy. I’m instantly jealous. “I’m from Florida. Can I just say, I’m extremely nervous about this weather?”

  I tell her it’s not too bad, if she doesn’t mind freezing her ass off all winter long. She gives me a narrow eye before she smiles. We arrive at our room, and I look around the small space. There is just enough room for two bunk beds that each have a desk at the bottom, and two small closets.

  It’s miniscule.

  It’s perfect.

  “So, why are you with that guy?” she asks as we unload our clothes into our closets. “You seem so sweet.”

  I press my lips together and let out a sigh as I gather my hair and braid it down my shoulder. It’s something I do when I’m thinking, something to keep my hands busy. Since my hair is to my waist, it gives me a minute to think.

  “I’ve known him since we were five. We’ve been dating since we were fourteen,” I shrug, not wishing to go into too much more detail.

  Ines looks at me, all too knowingly, and then nods as though she’s made some kind of internal decision. “There is so much more to that story, but we’re going to be besties, so you’ll tell me in time. I won’t talk too much shit about him from now on,” she grins before we both laugh.

  Once our room is all set up, we sit and talk, trying to get to know each other a little bit. I’ve found out that Ines is from Florida, she has four brothers and sisters, and she’s the first in her family to go to college. She’s half Cuban and half mutt, as she says. She is also an undeclared major as well. “Don’t worry, we’ll trudge through the year together, Jessa. We’ll figure it all out,” she smiles.

  My phone rings next to where I’m sitting on my freshly made bed, and I see that it’s Trent. “Hello,” I simply answer.

  “Sorry can’t do dinner, babe. You’re on your own. I met up with some of the guys on the team and we’re gonna hang out,” he announces before he ends the call. I don’t even get a moment to respond, and l let out a heavy breath.

  “You free for dinner?” Ines asks.

  I know she’s heard the one-sided conversation because Trent was screaming in my ear. It sounded like he was at a club; it was so loud in the background.

  “Yeah,” I shrug.

  “C’mon. My treat. There’s a great little deli I found just around the corner,” she says as she climbs down from her own bed.

  “I don’t know…” I say, thinking about the small amount of cash in my pocket.

  I cleaned out my bank account and decided I would reopen one here when I was able to get a job. For now, I have a minimal amount of money to my name and probably couldn’t even pay Ines back for dinner even if I wanted to.

  “Seriously, my treat, sweets,” she winks as she wraps her hand in mine and tugs me forward.

  A smile forms on my lips, and I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. I’ve never really had girlfriends. Being on Trent’s arm, being his girl and helping him pass his classes, while trying to keep up with my own, took up all of my time in high school. I was friendly with the girls I grew up with, but I never really had a best friend.

  I think that I’m going to like living on my own this year.

  COLE

  I’VE HAD THESE new freshmen for a fucking week. While I’ve managed to knock most of them down a peg or two, unfortunately, not all of them have budged. Mainly Trent Keller. He’s a pain in my fucking ass, just as I knew he would be. I run my hand over my hair, noticing that I still need a fucking cut.

  “Coach,” Cook, another new freshman, calls out from my doorway.

  “C’mon in, Cook,” I murmur. He hesitates as he takes a step inside of my door.

  He looks over his shoulder and then back at me. Fuck, he’s young. Swear to Christ, they keep getting younger every year. It can’t be me getting older, I refuse to believe that shit.

  “Yeah, coach, well… it’s Keller,” he mumbles.

  I don’t bother asking him what it is about Keller. He’s drunk. We’ve only been practicing for a week, and the kid has shown up four times three sheets to the wind. It’s typical. First taste of freedom and all. Small town boys that come to what they consider the big city.

  “I know. Thanks for telling me, though. I’ll take care of it,” I murmur. Cook nods his head before he turns around and jogs out of my office.

  I’ll take care of it all right. I’ll give him until the end of the first month of school to get his shit straight or he’s fucking gone. Though I won’t kick him out before I give him a couple warnings. I’m not heartless, but I am concerned with the wellbeing of my team, of their performance and their ability to stomp their opponents into the fucking ground. They can’t do that if any one of them is drunk or hungover.

  “Team is lookin’ good so far, Cole,” Patrick, the head coach, states as he walks into my office.

  I watch as he sits down in one of the chairs across from my desk. I nod and lean back.

  “They are, minus a few punk asses who think they’re still playing high school ball and their shit is untouchable,” I chuckle.

  Shaking his head, he laughs as well. “We always get a few of those.”

  “No shit,” I grunt.

  We go over our schedules and our ideas for the next couple of weeks. Playtime is over after this week. School is gearing up to start on Monday, and it’s time for these boys to train and train fucking hard. Patrick leaves about a half an hour later.

  A few minutes after he’s walked out of my door, John steps through into my office. He asks about my players and we shoot the shit for a few minutes. “Do you think you have some di
amonds in the rough?” he asks.

  I think about my boys for a few minutes and nod. “Actually, once they get that cocky beat the fuck outta them, then yeah, I do,” I chuckle.

  John laughs as he stands and tells me not to be a stranger, that his wife, Tiffany, is wanting my ass at her dinner table. I assume because she feels sorry for my bachelor status and wants to feed me some good home cooking.

  When the day is finally finished, I shut down my computer and lock my office. It’s late, and I head to my favorite Deli and bar, Bison Witches. A Husker sandwich and a Rogue Dead Guy Ale are calling my name after the long week of babysitting ball players.

  JESSA

  I’VE BEEN IN Lincoln for three weeks today. Classes started with little to no fanfare. Trent and I signed up for all of the same general education classes this semester, and I know it’s because he wants me to do all of his assignments for him and take his notes. I don’t mind. I’m used to it. What I do mind is that Trent has been doing a ton of partying.

  I don’t have time for parties or drinking. Between my school work and my new job at the Bison Witches Deli and Bar, I’m exhausted by the time I’m home for the night, which is somewhere around three every morning.

  “Babe,” I hear Trent call out from the other side of the door.

  We’re supposed to go out tonight. My boss isn’t ready to let me work the weekend evening crowd yet, so I have this Friday night off.

  I look over to Ines’ bed, wishing she was here and wishing she was coming with me. Trent is taking me to a party tonight, something about a fraternity. It’s the last place I want to go, but he’s insistent that we go together.

  “I’m ready,” I say as I open my door. Trent’s eyes scan my body, and then I see them narrow as he looks at me.