FOOTBALL ROMANCE: Tight (Bad Boy Alpha Male College Football Player and First Time Virgin) (Contemporary New Adult Athlete Sports Romance)

by Bridget Lang

"Mason," she said, relaxing a bit and stepping into the room. "Where have you been? Didn't you get my messages?"

  Mason's eyes shifted from her to the man behind her. She realized how upset he looked.

  "Is this what you're doing with your time?" the man screamed at Mason, veins bulging in his neck. "How can you be a football player when you're busy fooling around with some little tramp?"

  Emma's eyes began to blur as Mason stood by, saying nothing.

  "Is this why you missed practice the other day?" the man demanded.

  "Dad," Mason finally said. She'd never heard him sound so fearful and uncertain. "It's not like that."

  Mason's father raised his eyebrows.

  "Oh? Well why don't you tell me how it is then. Because from where I'm standing it looks like you care more about your girlfriend here than you do your career!"

  "She's not my girlfriend," Mason screamed. "I barely know her. She's... she's been following me."

  "Is that true?" Mason's father turned on her. "Well I want your name. I'm gonna have you thrown out of this school if you bother my son again, do you hear me?"

  Emma turned and fled from Mason's room. All of her fears had just been confirmed. What was even worse was that everything Zoey had told her was true. Mason didn't care for her. He'd been using her all along. She ran to her dorm and was grateful that, at least, Zoey wasn't there to watch Emma flood her pillow with tears.

  Chapter 13

  Emma woke up tired. Her alarm buzzed and she rubbed at her eyes as they tried to focus on her surroundings. She reached across her nightstand and shut the alarm down, looking at her phone. She had five new missed calls from Mason. She deleted them without listening to one of them. There were a slew of text messages that he'd sent her too. She started to read one of them then deleted those too. Why didn't he just leave her alone? He obviously didn't care about her. She felt like a fool.

  It had been three days since the incident at Mason's frat house, and Zoey had not let Emma hear the end of it. "I told you so Mouse," was the new running phrase in their room. Oh, and Emma's personal favorite, "Poor Mouse, she got screwed by a rat."

  The only consolation Emma had was that she wouldn't have to deal with Zoey much longer. She picked up another pile of clothes and threw them in a box, then pushed it against the wall with the others. Her father was coming for her in the morning; she would be back home and in her own bed within twenty-four hours.

  She made her way to biology, dreading seeing Mason again. Maybe he wouldn't be there. If he had any class he'd leave her alone and drop bio altogether, especially since he didn't care about his academics anyway. She walked into the classroom and was surprised to find Mason already seated. He stood up when she came in and she almost turned and left, but unless she was planning to switch majors she was gonna have to get used to seeing him in here. She needed biology before she could advance to the four hundred level class she'd need to graduate.

  "Emma," Mason said as soon as she sat down.

  She ignored him.

  "Please, let me explain." She glanced at him and saw his eyes were moist and sincere looking, but that did nothing to sooth her anger. He could cry her a river for all she cared. There was nothing he could say to fix this.

  "Emma, please. I just freaked out when my dad showed up like that, and then you came in, and I didn't know what to say."

  "So you told everyone I was stalking you?" she snapped.

  "No! Well... yes. Kind of, I mean. I told the coach that when he laid into me for missing practice. Emma he threatened to kick me off the team, I had to tell him something."

  "Uh huh, and your dad?"

  "I just... I froze. I didn't want him thinking—"

  "Thinking what? That you would lower yourself to date someone like me?"

  Mason's face turned red. "That's not what I meant," he said.

  "I don't care what you meant Mason. Just leave me alone."

  "Maybe this weekend we get together. Let me try to make it up to you. There's a frat party at my house tonight and I thought—"

  "I won't be here this weekend," she said, not taking her eyes off her notebook.

  "Oh. Where are you going?"

  "Home. I'm moving back in with my parents."

  Mason's jaw dropped and he started to say something but Professor Douglas began his lecture. Emma tried to concentrate but couldn't stop sensing Mason's eyes on her. When class finally ended she gathered her things and ran into the hall. Mason followed after her, catching her arm as she tried to flee before any more tears could fall.

  "Emma, would you please just listen?"

  Just then Mason's football buddies filed out of class. "Look, it's the stalker," one of them quipped. The others laughed. Emma's cheeks went red and her eyes grew wet.

  "Hey stalker. Why don't you stalk yourself a better grade in this class? I heard you bombed the last test." They hunched over laughing, and Mason turned on them.

  "She is not a stalker," he shouted.

  The guys stopped laughing and stared at him.

  "Why don't you guys go throw the football around and leave her alone? That's all you're good for anyway. I hope you make a lot of money playing the game, because you'll never be able to use your brains to make one dime."

  The expression on his teammates' faces made it difficult for Emma to suppress a smile. She was glad Mason had finally stood up for her, but she couldn't forget how he'd treated her. His teammates shuffled off, looking hurt, and Emma turned to go.

  "Wait," he said. "Don't you believe me now?"

  She hesitated. "Maybe. But the thing is... I don't care." He looked at her with questioning eyes that couldn't grasp what she was saying. "You hurt me so much. You humiliated me. There's no coming back from that."

  Then she fled from him before he could try to change her mind again.

  Chapter 14

  The library was packed, but Emma knew it would empty out soon. The frat party at Mason's place was tonight; she'd heard Zoey and some others talking about it. Apparently it was a big deal. It was alumni night—past members and new members got a chance to welcome each other. Everyone was trying to cram their studying into one short, intense session before heading over there. Even Zoey was here right now, her nose grinding against her books. When seven o' clock hit though, Emma would have the place all to herself.

  She flipped through her biology and chem books, marking important passages with a tab before writing things into her notebook. There was another big test in biology on Monday and Emma couldn't afford to bomb it again.

  The only good thing to come out of the last test was that no one in class had passed it with anything higher than a C, so Professor Douglas had decided to grade everything on a curve, thus turning her F into a C. Mason, as it turns out, had received the highest grade in class, much to Professor Douglas's astonishment. He appeared to have decided that Mason was some sort of idiot savant, and was now trying to nurture his untapped scientific genius rather than make fun of him.

  Emma flipped back and forth between the pages of her bio book looking for the answer to question fourteen on the practice test Professor Douglas had given them. There were to be no surprises this time, he said, for which the entire class had thanked him.

  She was flipping back to chapter nine when something hit the side of her head. She looked down and saw a paper airplane fall to the floor. It toppled onto its side; written in bright pink letters were the words "Open Me." Emma looked around but didn't see anyone watching her. She unfolded the airplane and read the message:

  I love you. Please give me another chance. I'd do anything for you, including humiliate myself. Look up.

  Emma raised her head and saw Mason walking towards her, a feather boa draped around his shoulders, a pink bathrobe covering his body. A small giggle escaped her throat. She couldn't help it. He looked ridiculous. Someone next to her looked up, and that person nudged the one next to them. Soon the whole library had their eyes on Mason. He stopped in front of Emma, who was trying
to hide her smile.

  "Mason," she said. "If you think that parading around in a bathrobe makes up for what you did to me..." But she couldn't hide the light creeping into her eyes.

  "I don't," he said. "But I'm betting this does." He jumped onto the table where Emma sat with her books spread out. "Here ye, here ye," he said, raising his arm like the Statue of Liberty. He had the total attention of everyone in the library, including the librarians and professors who were working there.

  "Mason," Emma whispered, tugging on his robe. "What are you doing?"

  He took a deep breath. "I would like to declare, right here and now, my undying love for Emma Davis." He looked down at her and she felt her cheeks burn. She really wished he'd come back down from the table now. She appreciated what he was doing. But apparently he wasn't done.

  "To prove my love for this woman, I would now like to perform a song just for her."

  There were laughs and groans. She saw Professor Douglas in the back, holding a book and watching with a surprised smile on his face. Then, before Emma knew what was happening, Mason removed the pink bathrobe. The library burst into a round of laughter and applause as Mason stood before everyone in a hot pink lace thong. He began to sing:

  "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

  You make me happy, when skies are grey,

  You'll never know dear, how much I love you,

  Oh please don't take, my sunshine away."

  People stood up and began to stamp and applaud, hollering so that it didn't seem like a library anymore. It was more like a football stadium. Mason's cheeks were glowing. He looked down at Emma and reached out a hand to her. She took it.

  "Am I forgiven?" he asked.

  "Most definitely," she said, her face beaming.

  "Good. I have one last thing I need to do. Will you meet me outside my frat house tonight at seven?"

  "Okay."

  He smiled and gave her a kiss that made her heart race before raising his head back up and looking across the sea of students who were still applauding. The librarians were trying to get things under control again.

  "And just so this love of mine will never again doubt me..." he said, then he pulled the lace thong off in one swift move and jumped off the table, streaking through the library as the applause tripled and the librarians gave up.

  Emma's heart had never felt so light. Zoey came running up to her. "I got it all on video. What's your email? I'll send it to you."

  Emma couldn't hide the shock on her face as Zoey took her email down and seconds later Emma had the video in her inbox.

  "Thanks."

  "No problem," Zoey said. "Do you have a dress for tonight?"

  Emma shook her head.

  "Come on," Zoey said, closing Emma's books up. "There's not much time."

  An hour later Emma emerged from her dorm room with Zoey, who was now behaving like they were old friends rather than enemies. They walked across the grounds together, Zoey leaving her when she saw Mason approaching. "Good luck," she whispered.

  "Thanks," Emma said. The dress she wore was bright pink—Zoey said she should wear it in honor of Mason's love declaration—and hugged every curve of her body.

  "Hi," he said, taking her in his arms. "You look beautiful."

  He kissed her hard and her insides tingled. She was ready to forget the frat party and go back to her room. "Thank you for coming. You know I meant every word I said in the library, right?"

  She nodded. There was no denying his feelings for her anymore. "I love you," he said, pressing his lips to hers once more. She could almost feel his pulse as his mouth moved against hers.

  "I love you too," she told him. He smiled and took her hand. "Come on," he said. "My father is an alumnus. I'll introduce you, properly this time."

  "What if he hates me?" Emma asked.

  "I don't care," Mason said. "I'm not losing you, ever again." He squeezed her hand and led her inside. They didn't know what the future might hold, but they knew that from now on, they'd be facing it together.

  THE END

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  SCREWED

  A Steamy Football Sports Romance

  STORY DESCRITION

  I hate Jett Lang.

  I’ve hated him for six years- ever since college. I was a shy, awkward freshman and he was a cocky, arrogant football star.

  A.K.A. the a-hole who made my college days a living hell.

  It figures he would be the one to come to my rescue

  Now he’s a better-paid, cocky, arrogant NFL star.

  Still steaming hot, panty-meltingly gorgeous. Still an a-hole.

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  Claire Donnelly.

  Sweet, mousy little Claire Donnelly.

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  Chapter 1 CLAIRE

  Another night, another bar. Jesus Christ.

  I blow my hair out of my eyes, and wrap both arms around my drunk boyfriend. The idiot is, as usual, totally shitfaced, which means I got a call at home from the bartender about 10 minutes ago hollering about Aaron picking fights with some poor college freshman over a game of darts, and how I needed to come pick him up.

  “Get that asshole under control, Claire.” the bartender barks at me as I drag Aaron, still screaming, out of the bar.

  Yeah, I want to shout back, I’ll get right on that.

  No one can get Aaron under control when he’s been drinking, which is pretty much all the time anymore. Tonight I have no doubt I’ll be repaid for the kindness of keeping him from pounding those scared kids into the floor with a lovely black eye that everyone at work will avoid asking me about.

  My co-workers have already heard all the stupid, repetitive lies; they aren’t interested in hearing them again.

  “Aaron, please try to calm down,” I try to talk comfortingly. I’m too exhausted to be scared of what I know is coming when we get home. I never thought I’d feel this exhausted at the age of 24.

  “Those little fucks cheated me out of my money!” Aaron bellows, still scrambling to get around me and
back into the bar. “They fucking hustled me!”

  I lean into his body trying to nonchalantly block him with mine. The car is in sight. “I know, baby,” I lie, placating him, “but you can’t just go after them. The bartender said we have to leave.”

  “I can’t?!” Aaron whips around to face me, his eyes wild and bloodshot.

  Oh crap! I said the wrong thing.

  “Did you just tell me what I can’t do, you little cunt?”

  Oh, God. I hoped he would have at least waited until we were in the car. “No, baby, that’s not…”

  “Not what? Not what?” He grabs my hair and starts yanking me around by it, bringing me to my knees. “Not you trying to fucking control me? You little lying bitch, that’s all you ever do. You just want to fucking control me.”

  “No, I swear,” I can feel eyes on us from all over the parking lot. No one will intervene. No one will try to stop him - they never do. Most will look away or leave. Some will watch in disgust. Those who watch will be more disgusted by me taking a beating than by him giving me one. I will just have to endure it, as always.

  “I’m not trying to control you. You’re in charge, okay, baby? You’re the boss. Please, let’s just go home, I’ll give you a massage and you can relax -”

  My words are cut short by a slamming punch to my jaw. I’m sent reeling backwards, knocked flat on the ground. I lie sprawled out on the pavement with Aaron ranting and screaming above me, but I’m not listening. I want to fucking kill him, the tears in my eyes are from humiliation rather than pain, although my jaw throbs. But I know my 5’2” frame springing up and throwing lame punches at him won’t diffuse the situation, it will make it worse for me.

  Just keep breathing, I remind myself, trying to swallow the fear that crawls up my throat like bile. I’ve been through this before, and I will make it through this time.