by SM Soto
Of course, he does, I can’t help but think. He has football player written all over him. I follow him inside, stepping into the warmth of the apartment.
“Looks like someone has a visitor,” he announces once he’s over the threshold. Loud boisterous voices can be heard over the background noise of the television. This apartment is the epitome of a man cave. Fully equipped with a video gaming system, a pool table, and men’s clothes strewn across the floor. Let’s not forget the pictures of half-naked models on the walls.
Definite man cave.
Luke rounds the corner, a smile tipping his lips when he sees me.
“Was wondering when you’d get here. Jesus, you must drive like a grandma.” He shifts his gaze to the guy walking in front of me and they slap each other on the back.
“Drew, this is Natalia, G’s half-sister. We have a class together,” Luke offers in way of greeting. Drew’s eyes widen, and he looks at me like he doesn’t know what to say.
“Don’t worry bro, she’s cool. They’re nothing alike.”
Drew visibly relaxes, and I have to stifle a laugh.
Yeah, I feel the same way when it comes to my sister too.
Drew walks into what I’m assuming is their kitchen where more male voices can be heard. I pointedly look at Luke, waving my hand around the room.
“Lovely décor around the place.”
His lip twitches and the dimple in his cheek slowly deepens. He turns around, examining the room with his hands on his hips like it’s the first time he’s really seeing everything around him.
“Yeah, the guys can be a little over the top sometimes.”
I sputter a laugh and raise a brow. “Sometimes?”
He laughs at that and nods at my assessment.
“And I do not drive like a grandma,” I grumble, punching him in the arm. He feigns hurt, rubbing his arm.
“Okay maybe not a grandma, more like a soccer mom.”
I tilt my head to the side pursing my lips. “I can work with that.”
“A few of the guys should be leaving soon, so it’ll quiet down a bit, then we can get to work.”
I nod and lower myself onto the couch, afraid to touch anything. I don’t even want to think about what happens on this couch, shared by an apartment filled with guys.
I shiver in contempt.
Clearing my throat, I tighten my cardigan around my body and wipe my clammy hands on my jean clad thighs, trying to get rid of the excess moisture. Damn nerves.
After the guys eat in the kitchen, they slowly filter out of the apartment, leaving Luke and me alone.
“Ready to get started?”
“Yup. I brought my textbook, only because I know you don’t own one.”
I pull my textbook and notes out of my shoulder bag, balking when I see Luke lay his own textbook on the table.
“I hate to correct you, but I do have one,” he says smugly.
“If you own one, why am I always forced to share mine with you?”
“Because I hate carrying unnecessary items around. It’s obvious I don’t need to bring one when you already have one.”
I roll my eyes at his statement and proceed to start working on our project. We’ve got a decent amount of information down so far, but it’s not enough for me. I like to be ahead in all assignments. This is the main reason I hate group projects or having partners. Waiting for a person’s availability is irritating. If I had it my way, I’d be halfway done with this project by now.
“What’s your end game anyway?”
Looking up from my notes, I furrow my brows at Luke in confusion. “End game for what?”
“I mean school. What do you want to do after you graduate? Career wise.”
“Well, I’m a psych major, but my ‘end game’ as you say, is to be a counselor. Decent pay, and I get to help others in the process. What about you?”
“Football,” he says as he flips through the pages of his textbook. My brows shoot up in surprise.
“So, your end game is football? Don’t you have a plan B? What if something happens and you can’t play anymore?”
He shrugs. “There is no plan B. It’s football or nothing for me.”
My mouth hangs open and I gape at him. I mean, he can’t seriously be this stupid, can he?
“But everyone needs a plan B,” I stress. “Becoming a pro football player isn’t guaranteed.”
Luke sighs in exasperation. “I know it’s not guaranteed, but it’s my only passion. I come from a family that loves to throw their wealth around. My father wanted me to become a lawyer just like him. It was expected of me. But fuck, stuck wearing a suit all day isn’t me. And my mother wanted me to become a doctor, just like she is but I told them a long time ago I knew what I wanted to do with my life. Thankfully, I have a family that accepts my decision and pushes me toward my goals. So no, I don’t have a plan B because I know I’m going pro one day. There’s no doubt in my mind that it will all work out.”
My lip twitches into a small smile at the passion in his voice. I had no idea football meant so much to him. I still think it’s idiotic to base your future solely on a dream, but still, I can’t argue with the fact that he’s determined. The dude’s got passion.
“Well, for your sake, I hope one day you will go pro.”
“You don’t have to hope, babe. I know I am.”
I ignore the fluttering in my belly and roll my eyes at his comment.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” I say, nervously tucking a loose, wavy strand of hair behind my ear.
“Okay, shoot.”
“I know Sam invited you to the club with us, but I don’t think you should come. No offense or anything.”
Luke freezes with a pen in his hand and shifts his gaze up to mine. “Oh, she was serious? I thought it was a joke to piss you off. I didn’t really plan on going anyway, so no worries,” he says with an indifferent shrug.
“Oh.” My brows furrow. “Okay then. That’s good I guess.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that this conversation wasn’t as uncomfortable as I imagined it would be. I don’t know why I even thought he would want to hang out with me and my friends, anyway. We go back to studying in comfortable silence
The stark ringing of Luke’s cell phone blares around the room as he digs it out of his pants pocket. The universal chime of the FaceTime ring goes on and on. His finger hovers over the screen before he finally decides to answer it.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
He shifts his gaze to mine, lifting a finger indicating he’ll a be a minute.
“Lukey! How are you, honey? And what took you so long to answer?”
I stifle my laughter at his mother’s inquisition. If I grew up with a protective mother, I assume this is what it would be like.
“I’m good, Mom. Everything here is good.”
I discretely scoot farther away from Luke, making certain his mother can’t see me. That would be awkward.
As Luke continues his conversation with his mother, I jot down notes from the textbook. I carelessly flip the page of my textbook, and the thin paper cuts through my skin.
“Ouch! Crap.”
Sucking my index finger in my mouth, the slight tang of copper tingles on my tongue. I swear, papercuts might seem like a minor scratch, but the pain that comes with them is unbelievable. I’d imagine this is what it feels like to almost chop off your own damn finger. I didn’t realize I said anything out loud until I hear Luke’s mother.
“Are with someone right now, Lukey? Let me see!” she says excitedly from the other line, and I can’t help it. I laugh. Luke snaps his gaze to mine with narrowed eyes, giving me what can only be described as the death glare.
“Is that her? Put her on, damn you!” she urges, and Luke blows out a sigh before he tilts the phone toward me so I can see his mom, and vice-versa.
“Well I’ll be damned. She is gorgeous! All that tan skin, and black hair—she looks like she’s from those Mexican novel
las!”
Luke’s mom is absolutely adorable. There’s no other way to describe her. She has chestnut brown hair cut into a short bob that frames her face, and one of those smiles that makes you feel immediately at ease. I don’t see much of a resemblance between the two of them, except for the deep dimples. He must take mostly after his father.
“Well, hi there! I’m Karen, Luke’s momma. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
I wave awkwardly not sure what the protocol is for something like this. She probably thinks we’re friends, but little does she know, we’re the furthest thing from it. “Hang on real tight to this one, Lukey, she looks like a keeper,” she says excitedly, and Luke rolls his eyes, tilting the phone back toward himself.
“Hate to burst your bubble, Mom, but Natalia and I aren’t dating. We have a class together, and we’re partners for a project.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and I raise my brows, mouthing, “Lukey?”
His lips thin and he flips me off outside of his mother’s camera view.
“Oh, Luke, honey. Why not? She’s gorgeous and obviously very smart. I’ve always told you, the women with their heads buried in the books are always the best!”
“Alright, Mom. I’m hanging up now.”
“Okay, okay, okay!” she says in exasperation. “Fine. I won’t say anything else.”
“Good.” Luke says, blowing out a relieved breath. If this wasn’t so entertaining, I might actually feel bad for him. Key word being “might”.
“How’s football?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Great. Coach told me I’m being scouted by a few teams. He says my chances of being drafted are really good.”
“Oh my God, Luke! That’s great, Baby. I’m so proud of you. When is the next game? Your father has been pestering me nonstop about going.”
Luke chuckles, and his dimples deepen at his mother’s enthusiasm. “The game is next Friday. I’ll send you guys the tickets.”
“Good, Baby, good. How’s school? Your classes?”
“My grades are good. Everything’s good.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me Luke Alexander Caldwell?”
He chuckles down the line and darts his gaze to mine. It’s then I realize I have a huge smile plastered across my face from listening to their conversation.
“No, Ma, I’m not trying to get rid of you. I’m just in the middle of studying.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you guys to it. Bye Natalia! Please keep an eye on my boy, maybe even smack some sense into him every now and then.”
I laugh and scoot next to Luke so I can say bye to his mother. “You don’t have to tell me twice. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Caldwell.”
“You too sweetie,” she says with a warm smile. “And you, Luke,” she turns her attention back to Luke. “Be good and stay out of trouble.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he grumbles.
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, Ma. Tell the old man I love him too. See you guys next Friday.”
When Luke finally gets off the phone, I can’t suppress the smile on my face. Watching him interact with his mom made him seem more real and down to earth. Not that he wasn’t before, but now, it’s achingly clear he loves his parents, especially his vibrant mother.
“You’re such a momma’s boy,” I taunt playfully. He shrugs and smiles, revealing his dimples.
“Sure am,” he says with a wink.
***
I don’t know how much time passes before the silence of our studying prompts me to turn to Luke. “Can I ask you something?”
Luke flicks his hazel eyes to mine and stares, prompting me to go on with my question.
“Why do you torture me the way you do? I mean seriously, if I was a totally different person, I think I might’ve jumped off a bridge by now.”
Luke chuckles. “I don’t know to be honest. It’s fun sparring with you. You’re witty and you always have a comeback. But honestly, I think I just love watching you squirm. It’s hilarious.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
He laughs whole heartedly with a shake of his head. “Don’t I know it.”
I roll my eyes with a huff and get back to work, doing my best to keep all sources of conversation project related.
On my fifth yawn of the night, we finally decide to wrap it up until we’re both free again.
“I’ll see you in class. Thanks for actually not being a douche and for walking me to my car.”
I toss my bag onto the passenger seat and reach out to shut my door. Luke’s arm shoots out, stopping me from closing my car door. I swing my gaze to him and pinch my brows together in question.
“What are you doing next Friday?” Hazel eyes search mine. Swirls of amber, arctic blue, and emerald green intermingle together so well I can hardly tell where one starts and the other ends.
“It’s my day off. I was just going to stay home and study.”
“Come to my game.” The intensity of his stare makes my skin prickle with awareness, and I force myself to swallow.
“A football game? You want me to go to a football game?” I ask incredulously.
“That’s what I said, right?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?
He shrugs. “I think you should see me play before I go pro.”
“God, you’re so full of yourself.”
I watch him smirk in satisfaction. He knows he has me. I can’t lie that going to a college football game doesn’t sound intriguing, a little scary, but intriguing nevertheless. And a little, tiny, minuscule part of me does want to see Luke out there on the field.
“Fine,” I groan, slamming the door in his face. He backs away from the car, grinning all the way back to his door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Natalia
The weekend at the club with the girls does not go as planned, at all. Luke shows up with a few of his friends after all, and my night is immediately ruined. I didn’t expect to see him here. The night is just supposed to be spent with our closest friends, not a group of hulking football players. Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who is behind it all—Samantha. I am so close to murdering my best friend, I’m surprised I don’t follow through, that’s how angry I am with her for interfering, again.
I have to watch every girl with a beating heart fawn all over Luke for what feels like the entire night. It is ridiculous. What makes matters worse is, I can’t understand why I am so pissed off. I mean, he is just my assignment partner for class. Why do I even care? But I do. I am so frustrated, I even resort to drinking. Alcohol and I do not mix well when paired with hot football players. I had to learn that the hard way.
By the end of the night, I am a slurring, angry mess of my normally composed self. To top it off, I piss off CJ and Aliza in the process, nearly breaking them apart. To say a night out at the club goes sour is putting it mildly. I’ve never felt more like an idiot than I do this weekend.
***
Today’s the day of Luke’s football game, and I can’t escape the fact that I’m nervous. I attempt to talk myself out of going at least a hundred times after the disaster at the club last Saturday. But ultimately, I decide to bite the bullet and just do it. I told him I would be there, so I’m going no matter what. This is the first college function that I’m going to, and I’m not entirely sure what to expect. College football is wild from what I’ve heard, and to top it off, I’m going alone. Sam and Aliza can’t come because of work, and now, I’m forced to do this like a loner.
I push past rowdy students in the Qualcomm stadium and try to find the section housing the people wearing our school colors. A large group of people wearing red and black catch my attention, and I navigate my way through the wild crowd toward a semi-empty row of seats. Elbows and bodies slam into me as I walk past people, trying to make my way through the crowded stadium.
“Oops. Excuse me,” I mumble every time I bump into someone. It doesn’t matter anyway. Even with my ap
ologies, no one cares if you crash into them. They’re only worried about getting to their spots to watch the game. I squeeze my way into an open section, looking for a seat. I jolt back in surprise as a die-hard fan with face paint jumps in front of me.
“Go Aztecs!” he yells at the top of his lungs. The jugular vein in his neck bulges, and I’m half surprised he doesn’t spontaneously combust on the spot. My eyes widen in shock at his display of support as I squeeze past him to the nearest empty seat.
What the hell have I just walked into? The people here are living in an alternate universe.
Plopping down in the seat, I give a little sigh of relief. My view isn’t bad. I can see the players practicing on the field decently. I scan the guys on the field, looking for the jersey with the number six. When I see Luke, a smile tips the corners of my lips. A group of girls seated ahead of me catch my attention with their loud giggling. The number six is painted on their faces. I roll my eyes at Luke’s bevy of supporters. Such a man whore.
I try to keep up with what’s going on in the game, but I have no idea what’s happening half the time. The announcer and the camera crews are distracting enough. Topped with the screaming fans, I’m half tempted to cover my ears from the level of noise. I can hardly tell if Luke is doing good or not, but I assume he is. Every time he gets the ball and throws it, the crowd screams wildly. He even runs into the end zone a few times with the ball. At least I think that’s what it’s called. My knowledge on football is non-existent. I couldn’t really care less about sports, if I’m being honest. The blowing of a whistle and the deafening cheering of the crowd signals the end of the game. Fans jump around hugging each other like they just won a million dollars. It’s ridiculous. The football players slowly walk off the field, and the stands filled with people start to clear out.
I walk out of the crowded stadium and try to find my car. The parking lot is huge. I could’ve sworn I’ve spotted my car at least four times already, though none were mine. Continuously clicking the alarm signal, I try to locate my car by the flashing lights and the horn. My phone vibrates in my pants pocket, ruining my concentration on the rows of cars. Sighing, I dig my cell out of my pocket. My brows pinch together when I see the name that’s flashing on my screen. Luke Caldwell. Why is he calling me?
