Go Deep: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Bella Love-Wins

  Bullshit. Our defense wasn’t doing their job.

  For the remainder of the first half of the game, we maintained our little back-and-forth game, but with a pass right before half-time, I brought us back into the lead. We were cutting it close tonight, but coming off the field at half-time, I still felt confident we would bring in another win. My teammates seemed a little tired and worried coming off the field. The other team was working us hard, but we would come back harder. Coach was confident, and gave us some words to that effect.

  As the second half started, whatever it was that had gotten into my teammates, it was starting to spread to me. Our opponents’ offensive line ran over our defense at the beginning of the third quarter. It was like we weren’t on the field at all. Our offensive game in the second half evaporated too, and the other team got bolder because of it. I was being forced to call more run and gun plays, forcing my receivers to respond to what the defense was doing instead of trying to aim for plays we had practiced.

  It was a shit show.

  I didn’t know what else to do. It was either keep doing that or run the ball on nearly every play to avoid getting blitzed. I was confident that my receivers would continue coming through for me, and thankfully, they did. We were able to keep the scoring neck and neck for the remainder of the game. The other team would push ahead, and then we would get out in front. Then, they’d score again, setting us back. We couldn’t get enough of a lead on them to settle into a routine.

  First and goal. Less than a minute on the clock.

  We needed a touchdown and a two-point conversion to win the game, and we were close enough to taste it. Our opponents were close enough to taste it, too. I could see it in their eyes. They were hungry for a piece of the quarterback. They were coming for me. We snapped the ball, and I stepped back in the pocket with two defensive linemen circling around on either side of me. I had two options. I could throw a pass and hope like hell someone was in position to catch it. Or, I could run like hell.

  My feet had been itching all night to just go for it. Their defensive line had wrecked my nerves. I couldn’t concentrate. I was less than ten yards from the end zone. I had it.

  If I could just move.

  And I did. I darted out from between the two hulking giants coming after me and stepped around the boys in front of me. I could see the goal line.

  What I couldn’t see was the defensive lineman waiting for me as I came around the offensive and defensive players in front of me.

  He hit me before I even saw him. I wound up flat on my back, dizzy and blurry-eyed until it hit me that I’d just cost us the game. As the wall of a player who hit me reached down to help me up, Evan walked by.

  “I was wide-fucking-open man. What the fuck were you thinking?”

  I hadn’t seen him.

  “You good now, bruh,” the Number 92 player for the opposing team said to me, patting me on the helmet before walking off to celebrate with his teammates.

  The voices of my teammates’ disgust were all around me.

  “Good going, Slade.”

  “That wasn’t football. What the fuck was that?”

  “Way to go.”

  “And that’s how you fuck up a game.”

  I lingered back while everyone walked into the locker room ahead of me. The other team’s defense had played a part in spooking me into a corner, but if I was being honest with myself, I was already rattled. I was tired from the extra work at the landlord’s restaurant, running from class to practice to work, then back home to do it all over again. For three weeks.

  Not to mention that bet about getting in her pants. That hadn’t left my mind, and I was still going to go for round two or more before I told anyone it had happened at all.

  There was so much on my damn mind, and it showed on the field tonight.

  “Hey, Slade.”

  Cassidy’s hand and voice stopped me on the way into the locker rooms. I turned to see her riveting blue eyes smiling at me. How come I’d never noticed that before?

  “Hey. It’s not a great time, Cass.”

  “I’d bet. I just wanted to tell you, good job out there tonight.” She was being sincere too.

  “Thanks, but it wasn’t a win.”

  “True, but you played your ass off out there tonight. After you study the film from tonight, you’ll agree. I kind of feel bad for the next team you come up against.”

  I nodded, appreciating her attempt to cheer me up. “Thanks.”

  For a second it looked like she was about to hug me, but we were interrupted by Mo. “Dude. Let’s get a move on. We have a party to get to.”

  Tre was behind him with a couple of blonde groupies on his arm. He laughed as they tried to accompany him into the locker room. “All right, ladies. This is the end of the line. You’ll have to wait for me until we’re all changed and ready. See you later.”

  “We’ll be out in five, ten minutes,” Mo assured the girls, pulling me past them.

  Inside the locker room, the mood had lightened up already. Everyone was laughing and cutting up. We peeled off our uniforms and hit the showers. There was an after party to go to and I needed to show up, but I wasn’t planning on staying long.

  I did not like to lose, so I had no plans for anyone to stick my nose in it all night long. The after party was at a fan’s house near campus, since the fraternity couldn’t host them for a while. The boys brought the banners and everything over, and people already seemed to know where to find us. We all rolled up to the house together, the entire team walking in as a unit. It was a sign of strength and a show of force. We were received just as we would have been if we’d won the game, with beer and loud cheers from the crowd.

  Chad passed me, looking back as he walked up the front steps to the house. “I’ll get you a beer. You earned it tonight.”

  Nodding, I grabbed a cup and filled it from one of the kegs some other generous benefactor had brought over to the house in preparation for the party. All our super fan had to do was play host. We supplied all the eye candy, and could probably take credit for most of the girls who showed up. I watched as the cheerleaders and sorority girls who’d followed us over paired off with my frat brothers, teammates, and other students. Good for them, I thought. They needed a little encouragement for next time.

  I was ready to leave less than half hour after I got there. For some reason, standing around sipping beer and watching everyone drink and dance to loud music did nothing for me. Finishing off my beer, I dropped my cup in the trash. Sleep was what I needed, and to fix my schedule before it cost me another game. I slipped out the front door and down the steps, deciding to walk back to the frat house, given I’d arrived here in one of the other players’ car.

  Cassidy was on my mind as I walked. She’d be at home for sure, so I sent her a text, thinking I could at least tell her thanks for the encouragement earlier. She didn’t reply by the time I made it to the house and up to my room, so I left it alone, setting the phone on the nightstand before heading to bed.

  10

  Cassidy

  Sunday morning came around, and I read Slade’s text from Saturday night after the game, probably while he was pissed drunk at the after party. I didn’t reply because I wasn’t sure how to respond. We had moved into uncharted territory, and there was no guide book for this transition.

  Miranda was missing in action all day Sunday, so there was no one to talk to about what seemed to be happening here. Not that I was ready to tell her, but I thought for sure she’d be around to try and drag it out of me. She was probably crashing somewhere after the frat party. I didn’t understand how she was able to maintain it, or how she didn’t get herself in trouble. Neither of us were old enough to be drinking, not that being underage ever stopped anyone on campus. Then again, maybe that was why she always went to parties instead of bars. It was easier to score drinks underage if no one was inclined to card her. That still didn’t explain how she was able to manage a double major while getting sloshed every weeke
nd. But she wasn’t my problem, I reminded myself. Slade, on the other hand, apparently was.

  We’d crossed a line when we slept together, and even though I’d had a couple of college one-night stands before, this was the first one to haunt me every day since. I’d managed to keep my distance since that night, but some unknown force made me go talk to him after last night’s game. I guess I felt bad for him, with the crowd practically ready to string him up to a light post for his choices. Seeing him looking all defeated didn’t help either.

  I spent Sunday failing in my effort not to think about it and trying to ignore his text message that was still unanswered on my phone. After a while, I did my best to get through my other coursework and prepare myself for the week ahead. By the time I went to bed Sunday night, Miranda still wasn’t back. I was concerned, but only slightly. She had a way of getting carried away with her paranormal buddies at times.

  Monday morning rolled around and Miranda was back in our dorm as usual. As was our usual start of the week routine, we got dressed and headed to the coffee shop down the street from our dorm.

  “That was some game Saturday night,” I said over my coffee, as this was the first real block of time we’d had to chat since then.

  “It was. What the hell was going on out there on the field?” Miranda asked. “It was like they forgot about their plays and were just scampering around the field aimlessly.”

  “I don’t know.” I caught myself defending Slade again. “They tried. There was some fierce competition from the other team too.”

  She looked at me, eyebrows cocked and head tilted, as though I’d grown an extra head while we sat there. “Have you gone crazy? Or are you making excuses for your boyfriend?”

  “Please, Miranda.” I tried to dismiss the boyfriend part, but she was right that I was making excuses. I really was going soft on him.

  “Slade could have done more to help win that game. Evan was standing there wide open. Wide open,” she stressed again, shaking her head. “If he’d just passed the ball to Evan, the game would have ended differently.”

  “You don’t know that, Miranda.”

  “Nope. I’m sure of it. Slade got spooked by how aggressive the defensive line had become, and made a bad call when he decided to run the ball. Dumbass.”

  “I don’t know,” I continued holding out. Something was going on with Slade. He’s missed our project meetings, and lately he looked tired and preoccupied all the time, even on the field.

  My phone buzzed on the table, and Miranda looked over at it.

  “Maybe that’s him now, calling to let you know he won’t be in class. Something’s up, Cassidy. You should keep an eye on him.”

  “Since when is he my responsibility?” I picked up the phone and checked the number. “And it’s his brother, Shawn, for your information. I’ve got to take this call while I head to class, hun. See you this afternoon at practice.” I got up and walked outside, keeping my eyes open so I didn’t run into anyone again.

  “Hi Shawn,” I answered, curious. He’d never call this time of day normally. “Is everything all right?”

  “Hey, Cassidy. Yes, everything’s fine. I only have a minute, but I wanted to ask you something.”

  My heart sank into my stomach. Shawn was my best friend, and all the other times when he’d started a conversation with ‘I wanted to ask you something’, it meant ‘we need to talk’. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

  “Okay.” I swallowed hard.

  “Did you sleep with Slade?” he asked flat out.

  “What?”

  “Come on, Cassidy. Did you sleep with Slade?”

  “Where is this coming from, Shawn?” I had to say something to avoid a direct answer. And really, I was curious about why he’d called out of the blue and only to ask me about whether I’d done the nasty with Slade.

  “Answer the question.”

  “You know how I feel about your brother, Shawn.”

  “Yeah, I think I do. I think I’ve known for a long time. And you’re still not answering my question, which makes me sure the answer is yes. Look, you told me you two were working together on a project, and then you started defending him on that very same call. So, tell me, have you slept with my brother?” I could hear in his tone that he wasn’t about to back down until I answered.

  I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “I always knew you had a thing for him, Cass. It was always obvious to everyone but the two of you.” I could hear the disgust in his voice.

  “What? No way.”

  “Admit it. You’re in love with him.”

  “What the fuck, Shawn? I’m not in love with your brother, and I didn’t sleep with him because I have a thing for him. It just happened. I can’t explain it other than to say it just happened…like…”

  “Like you’d been wanting to for years. Is that what you were about to say?”

  It was, but I stood there with my cell phone up to my ear on the sidewalk in silence as other students walked past me. This was not the time or place, and what I really wanted to know was why he was asking about this now.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he snapped. “Look, I have to go.”

  “No no, Shawn. You don’t get to ask a whopper of a question like that then hang up without telling me why or waiting to hear my side of it.”

  “Watch me.”

  “Wait,” I protested, but he hung up.

  I immediately got a text, and I checked to see if it was Shawn spewing more anger-filled rebukes via written word.

  It was Slade. Speak of the devil. And I hadn’t responded to his last text. This message was to ask if I wanted to meet tonight and prepare the script for the pitch and plan the write-up. Even though I would see him in class in a few minutes, I texted him back and told him fine. I figured I just had to accept that he’d be late again getting out of whatever it was he was doing after practice these days. He texted back that he’d see me soon, and I knew then that his texts meant he’d be at this morning’s lecture.

  The day went by and after cheerleading practice, I went back to my dorm for a nap in before Slade was ready to meet up. I woke to the buzz of my phone as he texted me.

  ‘Meet me at the house?’

  I replied with, ‘On my way.’

  I grabbed everything for the project and headed out to the car. I put the key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing.

  “Dammit,” I yelled at the car. My piece of shit beater car was on its last leg. Every time I really needed it, this would happen.

  Still sitting in the car, I texted Slade. ‘Car trouble again. Pick me up?’

  He texted back, ‘We can use your place. Be there in ten.’

  Miranda wasn’t home. I didn’t know where she was or how long she’d be gone, though it could turn into an all-nighter with her. Whether she came home or not wouldn’t make a difference, and actually, it was probably better that Slade knew she could show up anytime. The way things were going between us—the making out, that night in his room, my defending him, and the fact that Shawn knew now—it was probably for the best that we had a talk once we got the project work out of the way.

  I answered with. ‘Sure’ and took my things from the car to wait for him at the front door.

  His final reply was ‘I will be on my best behavior’ and a smiley face.

  I didn’t want to know what that meant. Of all nights for Miranda not to be here. I needed her to do me a favor and run interference to make sure Slade and I didn’t have a second alone. Some friend.

  I talked myself down from my frenzied state, reminding myself he was less of an ass around me lately, and hadn’t hit on me for a solid few weeks now. That was a good sign, a definite improvement on how things were before I jumped his bones. Maybe some of the mystery was gone for him. Either way. It was good not to deal with that side of him anymore.

  I looked up and down the laneway to our dorm, wondering where he was. I was going crazy, left alone with my thoughts like this an
d nowhere to direct that energy. If I’d had any more time alone in my thoughts I’d probably end up admitting that I wanted more of him, and I was pretty sure I knew which part that was.

  My greedy, greedy core.

  He was that good in bed, even if our little tryst was as vanilla as they came. If it were up to that one body part and logic was not a factor, we’d end up in a purely sexual relationship, and it would have been perfect. I’d let him come over, he could fuck my brains out, and then I’d send him on his merry way. A few times a week would do the trick.

  Except there was logic staring me in the face. And I still had no idea what caused Shawn to phone me about it. None of it made sense at the moment, so it was probably better for us to keep our hands off of each other until we straightened out a few things.

  “Where the hell are you, Slade?” I asked the night. The air was starting to get chilly, and I was down here in hardly any clothes and no fall jacket. I looked down at my phone to check the time. If he waited much longer I was liable to call the whole thing off and go to bed. Alone.

  11

  Slade

  I pulled up outside Cassidy’s dorm and as soon as I saw her I thought this was probably not a good idea. She stood outside under the old yellow streetlight in black shorts and a baby blue tank top. She had legs for days, and I took them in from her ankle all the way up to the shorts that were barely hiding the prize between them. I had to rearrange myself in my pants, remembering that I’d been there.

  Her little top waved in the gentle breeze, hanging off of the swell of her breasts, her stomach flat enough that the bottom of her tank top didn’t have anything to rest on. Something about her had definitely changed if she was comfortable enough to dress that way around me, knowing I wanted her. I’d never kept my lust for her a secret, and now she was letting me see that much more of her, literally.

  “Geez. I was wondering if you’d ever make it over here,” she said when I walked up from the car. She crossed her arms in front of her from the cold, and maybe to let me know she was upset about waiting too.