When I was done, I had to tell them, “Ladies. Damn.” They’d come to the after-party knowing exactly what they wanted, and it was fucking beautiful.
Indeed, it felt good to be this good.
2
Cassidy
The first day of class after the first game was like the first day of fall or spring. The air was suddenly charged with a new life and excitement that hadn’t been there just a few days before. Attending a university with a proud football heritage in the Deep South, there was always a certain base level of team spirt on and off campus. But the first day back after the start of football season was something special. That team spirit was suddenly revitalized and ignited like a fire.
I woke up before my alarm, ready to embrace the real start of my last year. I was a third year senior, about to finish my business degree a year early, after taking classes non-stop since the day I walked in as a freshman. That meant a lot of coordination, a full course load every semester, and sticking around for summer courses. It was a tough slog, but it was about to pay off.
My best college friend and roommate, Miranda, was still sleeping, but a few minutes later her alarm went off. A pale hand with chipped black nail polish stretched out from under her sheets and tapped the snooze button before retreating back into the warm comfort.
I walked across the room and shook her by her shoulder. “Time to get up, Miranda,” I whined mockingly.
Her covers slid down to reveal her hot pink hair and messy black eyeliner from two nights ago, no less. The girl should have been getting a Master’s degree in shuteye.
“What day is it?” she croaked.
“It’s Monday morning. Get up. Time for coffee and first day of class,” I reminded her.
“Why the hell are you so damn hyper?”
“I didn’t get much rest all day yesterday. Somebody was a bit loud and hungover.”
“Yeah, and I think I might still be.” She pulled the covers down the rest of the way, squinting at the clock as she sat up in her bed. “Do I have time for a shower first?”
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug.
I gathered everything I needed for this morning’s classes, thinking about what this year meant to me. It was also my last year as a cheerleader. I’d been doing that gig all through high school and college, following in my mother’s and older sister’s footsteps. That was where our similarities ended, because there would be no more cheerleading in my future, unlike them. Personally, I was looking forward to the end of hearing cocky jocks try to get me to sleep with them because the cheerleading squad was supposed to be their own private supply of ass, ready to build team morale at the drop of a pair of pompoms—or a pair of panties. Take your pick.
I’d managed to avoid all of them so far. I was determined not to end up like my mom or my older sister, Caroline. My dear mother had hooked up with my dad right after high school, and together they had ridden the football-cheerleader couple wave, clichés and all, right up to today. My sister, Caroline took the baton from Mom and used her professional cheerleading career—if you could call it that—to snag an NFL player. I figured it could have been worse. She could have ended up with some used up has-been high school athlete who just sat around remembering his glory days and drinking himself to death. Either way, I wanted a career of my own, and I was on my way there. Cheerleading was almost over for me.
Miranda came back from the shower only a little more alive than she’d been when she went in. She quickly threw on fresh black eyeliner and a clean carbon copy of her all-black outfit. Miranda was an odd one, but I loved her to pieces. I’d only known her for as long as we’d been in college, yet we were so close now. She was from Massachusetts, and we’d been roommates the whole time.
She was originally doing a double major in history and anthropology, and at some point in first year, she became obsessed with folklore, paranormal and occult studies, and pretty much anything surrounded by superstition or mythology. Her clothes had grown progressively darker each school year, and I often teased her that if they ever found a color darker than black, she’d probably wear it. Hell, knowing Miranda, she’d try to become it.
Still, freaky or not, oddball or not, we were best friends, and we stuck together.
“You ready?” I asked as she finished lacing her knee-high leather boots.
“Yep. I must get some brew in me.” She stood up cautiously and wavered a little. “Definitely double dark roast,” she added after steadying herself on me.
I laughed, and we left our dorm arm in arm, heading up the main campus walkway to the closest coffee shop. Campus was alive with students and faculty busily making their way to and from their classes and offices. It was a bright fall morning. The heat and humidity were finally starting to lessen, and the light had begun to change to that beautiful golden hue of autumn, no longer the harsh bright light we’d dealt with all summer long. There was a hint of a chill in the air, but it was just enough to make it easier for everyone to move around. I took a deep, long breath, filling my lungs to commemorate again that this was the first day of my last year in this place.
“So, tell me about Saturday night.” I tugged on Miranda’s arm, bringing her out of her sleepy trance.
“You were there.” she managed.
“Not at the party…or did you have so much to drink you forgot I don’t ever go to those things?”
“Oh yeah.”
“So how was it?”
“Honestly? I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”
“That bad, huh? You slept so much yesterday, I figured it was a blast.”
“Let’s get some coffee in me before you try to make me talk,” she croaked.
“Fair enough, you party animal.”
We walked into our favorite coffee shop, the Acadian Cafe, which looked more like a bookstore or library with a cozy, quiet atmosphere. We came here often. It was easy for patrons to catch up without competing over the noise at other campus spots. Miranda slurred out our orders to the barista, who somehow figured it out and just gave us our usual. Grabbing our cups, we found a free table in the corner and took our seats.
After a few sips of the go-juice, I looked up to see if Miranda was ready to talk yet. “So…” I started, staring at her.
“So?”
“Saturday night?”
“Oh, yeah.” She sighed. “You know, if you really want to know what goes on there, you should come with me every once in a while.”
“I’m sure I’m not the only cheerleader who wasn’t there.” Even I heard the defensiveness in my tone. “Besides, this year is not about college football. I’ve got a future to get to.”
“Yeah. I think you’re just scared. You might actually have a little fun. You know, it’s okay to be shallow sometimes, Cassidy. It won’t hurt you. It doesn’t hurt me to take a break every once in a while so I can remember I’m living for today, not just my future.”
I tilted my head to one side so she’d know I wasn’t buying it. “I don’t know about all that. You looked pretty wasted yesterday. Not sure I’d call that living for today.”
She took a sip of her coffee and winked at me.
“So how’d it go?” I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to find out, but I couldn’t help myself. I may not have enjoyed going to the parties, for all the same reasons I didn’t really enjoy cheerleading, but I always wanted to know what happened.
“It wasn’t really that exciting. All the frat boys were there. You were the only cheerleader who didn’t show up, and the team strolled in after everyone else was pretty much lit.”
“Oh God,” I groaned. “Did anything crazy happen?”
Miranda shrugged. “It was the same thing as always. A bunch of girls flocked to the team as they came in. The frat boys tried to get with the cheerleaders. I stayed off to the side and helped them drink as much alcohol as I could. It didn’t really turn into an orgy. The cops weren’t called. That’s always a plus,” she said with a chuckle.
“Were there a lot o
f people there?” I asked. It always pained me a little to avoid these gatherings. Part of me craved the social interaction, as much as I hated the party scene.
“Oh, man, the house was packed out the front door and spilled out back. When I left yesterday morning, there were people passed out on the porch and in the bushes,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t realize there were that many of us there on Saturday night.”
As we finished our coffee, I checked my phone and gathered up my things. “We have to get go going. I have a lecture in fifteen minutes on the other side of campus.”
“What do you have now?” Miranda asked, not getting up.
“Entrepreneurship,” I told her. It was part of my business degree.
“I’ll never understand why you would schedule a class this early,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m going to nurse myself back to health on this coffee. My first class is in ninety minutes.”
I smiled. “Sounds good. See you at practice?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She raised her cup to me as I backed out the door, bumping into someone passing by.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized, turning around and putting my hand out to touch the guy’s shoulder.
“It’s fine, doll.” He turned and smiled.
I looked up, recognizing the strong, confident voice. “Slade.” The heat immediately rose up my neck to my cheeks. Dammit. He brought out that reaction every time. I pulled my hand back as if I’d touched something scalding hot. Which I did, but I wasn’t about to let him in on that salacious thought.
“The one and only.” He gave me a tacky mock bow and had a suggestive look in his eyes when he straightened out again. I wondered what he was thinking, but I brushed the idea away quickly. I didn’t want to know what our star quarterback was thinking about doing to me. I was probably the only girl on campus he hadn’t bagged yet.
It wasn’t surprising that girls around here threw themselves at him. He stood almost a foot taller than me, at about six feet, four inches. He had short, messy blonde hair that always had that freshly-fucked look, and the most hypnotic hazel eyes. It wasn’t just the color that got people. There was a charisma behind those eyes that could be very appealing. Again, he was not going to hear that from me.
“Heading to the Entrepreneurship lecture?” he asked, and then I remembered we’d end up in a few classed this year because of my accelerated pace to get out of this hellhole. We’d had a couple of management and finance classes together last year, so I should have expected we’d bump into each other more.
“Yes. I’m on the way there now,” I told him.
“Yeah, me too. Want to wait for me to grab a coffee? I’ll walk with you.”
I hesitated. It wouldn’t have made any sense to tell him I could walk on my own since we were going to the same place. At the same time, he was always coming on to me. He rarely gave it a rest. Honestly, I didn’t want to spend the next ten minutes telling him to keep his paws to himself and that no still meant no.
Did I mention I was the only one he hadn’t slept with? That was me, the only girl on campus that he’d set his sight on who was strong enough to resist those exquisitely toned muscles and mesmerizing eyes. It also didn’t help that I was best friends with his younger brother, Shawn. We all grew up together, so I still saw Slade as that obnoxious little shit who pulled my pigtails mercilessly, before his hormones kicked in, turning him physically into a living sculpture of the ideal man that stood before me—but still an obnoxious shit.
He looked at his wrist as if he wore a watch. “Earth to Cassidy. Come on, babe. We’re going to be late. I don’t want to make you late.”
“Yeah, sure,” I agreed reluctantly.
He was in and out of the coffee shop in a minute, presumably because the barista was crushing on him and probably started his order while he was out at the door talking to me. We started walking, side by side. I could feel his presence tugging on me, enticing my body with the promise of the pleasure he’d given to other girls on campus. It had been too long since the last time I’d gotten any. That was the only reason I could think of for feeling even the slightest bit of attraction to this epic douchebag.
“Missed you at the party the other night,” he said nonchalantly.
“I didn’t think you’d be looking for me, seeing as I never come to those things. How did it go?”
I didn’t look at him while he prattled on about the pranks some of his frat brothers got up to. I dreaded to see the look in his eyes in case the conversation moved to something less desirable, like who he banged in his room, or downstairs, or in his car if he wasn’t too wasted to drive them home.
“I’m always looking for you, Cassidy,” he said when we made it to the lecture hall. “Always.”
“That’s a shame.”
“After you.” He held the door for me to go in first. Where was all this chivalry coming from?
“Thanks,” I said coolly, making a point to idle at the front of the class until he took a seat, then I sat as far away from him as possible. I couldn’t imagine having to listen to his deep, abrasive voice for a full two-hour lecture.
3
Slade
I took my seat in the last row of the lecture hall for my Entrepreneurship class. Cassidy sat down front. She always sat down front. She did it to discourage me from sitting near her. She knew I wasn’t about to sit up there with the obvious keeners. From my seat, though, I still had a clear shot of her. She was a tiny little thing, probably around five and a half feet, and had an obviously athletic body and those long, shapely legs. She had curves in all the right places. I wanted to get lost in those curves. I would have gladly put money on how toned that body was. Dammit I was ready to feel her long, chestnut-brown waves tumble down over my face while she moved over top of me.
Bottom line is I had a bad case of lust for the girl. I even envied the other cheerleaders who got to put their hands on her tiny waist and toss her around at practice or on our Saturday games. These hands of mine wanted to grab those hips and turn her each and every way but never turn her loose until she screamed my name. It was time for that chapter, and come hell or swamp water, I was determined to get her before the year was out. Fucking Cassidy Greyson was my self-assigned senior project. No matter what else I accomplished this year, my college career would be incomplete if I didn’t bag that sweet piece of ass.
She wasn’t the little kid running around with my kid brother anymore. She was a sexy woman now. Those blue eyes had deepened over the last few years, the childhood innocence in them giving way to a kind of maturity that promised dirty things to be had in the dark of night. Her hair was more of a chestnut brown now, but still very natural. Her voice was as toned as her thighs and those tits that hid out under too many layers for my liking.
Christ, all this thinking about Cassidy got me in a very bad place for start of class—distracted, hard, and horny as fuck. I smiled and shook my head, thinking it would have been a shame to have to grab one of the eager girls checking me out after class to work off the edge. It was a good thing Dr. Taylor, our Entrepreneurship professor, showed up just then.
“Good morning, class,” Dr. Taylor announced. The man looked like a science professor more than a business professor. He had messy salt-and-pepper hair, wore glasses, and always sported a white lab coat over his gray suit. He always had whatever he needed in the coat though, whether it was a dry erase marker or his cell phone.
A few students let out a halfhearted “Good morning” in response.
He stopped and looked around at all of us, then he stopped and focused on me. Good job, Mr. Clark. Nice way to kick off the season.”
“Thanks,” I chuckled, putting on my “I’m so humble” act as this was a formal, public forum.
Setting his armload of books and notes down on the table beside his podium, he grabbed a couple sheets of paper from the top. He walked over to the corkboard at the side of the lecture hall near the door and posted the sheets with pu
sh pins.
“Class, I don’t see many new faces around the room, which is a good thing, because you all know each other by now. This is why I won’t waste any time getting to the good part. Let’s go over your term project.”
The room groaned.
“No, no. Don’t start that yet. Trust me. You’ll enjoy this one. This project will count for thirty-five percent of your course grade, so you have to do well if you expect to ace this course. That being said, I think it’s also worth reminding you that everyone in here needs this course for a degree, and hopefully a career right out of the gate.”
He pushed his glasses up and looked around the room. No one found him even remotely encouraging. This was the first day of class, for fuck’s sake. Half of the students were still buzzed from Saturday night.
“You will each be working with a partner to launch a mock business. Now, you may or may not actually launch a business out of this project. However, you will write up a complete business plan. You will pitch the business to a real business owner or angel investor. At the end of it all, you will also hand in a write-up of your experience doing the project. Most importantly, you will treat this as a real business and not just a project. I’ve lined up a few owners and investors, who have agreed to help you emulate the real world experience by reviewing your project as if you were really pitching a business idea to them. That’s why I say, if they really like your idea, it could take off. No, I’m not kidding. Take this seriously. I shouldn’t have to say that, but every year, someone goofs off and wonders why they flunk this class.”
Go Deep: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 2
