Be Mine

by Jen Frederick

  “You say that now, but what happens after the girl keeps you up five consecutive nights because her gums hurt and you can’t do anything about it?”

  “Is that why you have circles under your eyes?”

  Self-consciously, I swipe a knuckle across my cheekbone. “Thank you for pointing that out and no, I get these from the strain of serving all you Mustangs.”

  He flops onto his back carelessly, his head landing only inches away from my knee. A little to the left and he would’ve ended up in my lap. His silky hair flops over one eyebrow, begging for me to brush it aside. I curl my fingers into my palms. If there was ever a boy that I shouldn’t be touching, it’s this one, and not just because I know what dogs pro players can be but because I need a friend, too. I didn’t realize it until Charlie admitted she was lonely. The longing in her voice echoed mine. I haven’t had a real friend in forever. When I had Cassidy, I lost touch with my high school friends. They were studying trig and discussing Hamlet while I was learning how to breastfeed. They were applying to colleges while I was filling out forms for food stamps. I don’t think Charlie would like it if I started crushing on her man. And Nick is her man in my book.

  “I hope you’re treating Charlie right, Nick,” I say for my benefit as much as his.

  “I drove her here,” he says, as if that’s such a big deal.

  I slap his shoulder. “That’s not enough. Buy her flowers. Send her chocolates. Book her a spa day. Tell her you—” The words lodge in my throat, but I push them out anyway—“tell her you love her.”

  “She knows I love her. We grew up together,” he says in the voice of a man who is taking his woman for granted.

  Irritated, I press him. “Women need to hear those words otherwise you’re going to lose her?”

  “Lose her? I couldn’t if I tried. I moved all the way down to Texas and she still followed me.” He says all of this with a slight lilt to his voice, as if Charlotte’s devotion is all a joke.

  He shifts slightly and the blanket curls underneath his large frame. Is it my imagination or has he moved closer to me? I send a panicked glance toward Charlie, who merely smiles and waves as if she doesn’t care that her boyfriend’s head is nearly in my lap. I give him a little shove and move backward.

  He grunts in protest. “What’s that for?”

  “Your head was almost on my leg.” I jab a finger toward my knee, plus, he deserves a little knock in his head for his careless attitude toward Charlie.

  “So?”

  “So. Your love is watching us.” I jerk my chin toward Charlie, who is now pushing Cassidy on the swing.

  “My love?” He rolls his head toward me. “Who the hell is that?”

  “Charlotte!” I point.

  She hears her name and waves cheerily back again.

  “She’s my love?” He sounds dumbfounded.

  “You just said she was.”

  “I said I love her.”

  “Exactly!” I throw my hands up in exasperation. He’s playing games with the sweetest girl. I punch his shoulder again.

  The puzzled frown only deepens. “I’m so confused.”

  “You football players are all alike.” He’s not Chip, but he’s still a rat.

  Nick levers his muscular frame up on one arm. “I love her like my sister. In fact, she will be my sister someday, as soon as my brother gets his head out of his ass.”

  “Y-your brother?” Did I hear that right?

  “What, you don’t know about him?”

  I shake my head.

  “That’s right. Charlotte’s trying to forget that he exists. My brother’s a Navy SEAL.”

  “Oh.” Charlie tried to tell me yesterday, but I brushed away her explanation. Was it because I was using Charlie as a shield against Nick’s attractiveness?

  “Yup.” A small, almost-sad smile tips the corners of his lips up. “Hard to live up to.”

  My attention swerves back to Nick. Was that envy I heard? “But you play professional football. That’s amazing.”

  He shrugs. “I play a game. My brother is saving lives. He’s doing important things.”

  “Is that what your parents say?” I’m starting to feel incensed on Nick’s behalf. “Because very few people can play the quarterback position in professional football.”

  Our hometown had a collective orgasm when Chip was drafted to the team in Detroit. The town fathers had the Welcome to Ashton sign changed a week later so that the words “Home of Jonathan ‘Chip’ Peters” were written in bold white letters. It didn’t matter how many interceptions he threw or how many games he lost. He was the hometown boy that made it to the big league. They love him.

  “Nah, they’re proud of me. They aren’t into comparisons. And before you say anything, Nate’s not the one putting me down either. It’s not like that. I just know. Saving lives is on a different scale than throwing touchdowns. One is important, and the other’s just for entertainment. Unfortunately, all I’ve ever wanted to do is the entertainment thing, so that’s what I’m doing.” He lies back onto the blanket. “And all Nate’s ever wanted to do is make something of his life to show our dad that he’s worth something. My dad came from nothing. He grew up in a trailer park, joined the Marines, paid his way through college and built a huge empire by his own hands. We want to make our parents proud.”

  “I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t be proud.” I look over to Cassidy, who is waving her feet in the air. “I’m proud when Cassidy eats all her peas. It doesn’t take much to make a parent happy.”

  Nick laughs, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. Pick me up and shake me like a rattle, but he’s so damn hot it’s not even fair.

  “Well, I’ve never been very good at eating my peas, so I’m going to try to prove my worth by winning some games. What about you, Lainey? Are you making your parents proud?”

  “No.”

  I regret my terse response when the humor in Nick’s face drains away. I should’ve lied, but what parent is ever proud of a girl who gets knocked up at the age of seventeen? I stick out my chin. “My dad’s been long gone and my mom’s still upset I had sex before I got married. She’s a strict Catholic.”

  Nick reaches out a hand and squeezes my sneaker-clad toe. “Hey, I’m sorry. It was a dumbshit thing for me to say.”

  I try to act like it doesn’t matter. “Forget it. It’s no big deal. I don’t really care, after all. I have Cassidy.”

  “That’s better than being a Navy SEAL and a pro player put together.” He gives the compliment with so much sincerity that I don’t have a comeback. Something hot fills my throat. I blink and look up at the sky, away from the honey in his gaze. Not even the late-summer sun generates as much warmth as Nick’s approving look.

  I concentrate on breathing so that I don’t throw myself into his arms. Nick’s offering friendship here, nothing more. And even if there was something like affection and lust swimming in those deadly eyes of his, I can’t accept it.

  Chapter Five

  Nick

  "Chip. Let’s talk about the option read for the third down play. Today, we were a little slow in getting the ball to Montgomery. We should consider making the decision before you make the turn up the field.” Coach waits for a response but gets none because our starting QB is staring across the room.

  I follow his gaze to where Lainey is clearing a table. I don’t blame him. I can’t take my eyes off her either. Her shoulders fall as she picks up a tip. It must be smaller than she hoped for. I know things are tight for her, but she’s not going to accept any help. I’ve tried to find her a new place to live, a car, and a loan to go back to school. Lainey was so mad after these offers that she didn’t talk to me for two weeks. She also started returning my hundred-dollar-bill tips. I’ve been able to funnel some money through my fellow teammates who have told me more than once that there’s easier pussy out there. They’re not wrong. Even as a backup rookie quarterback, the line of women at my door is longer than I expected it would be, bu
t none of them are curvy, lush-haired brunettes with melting eyes and an attitude that’s both sharp and sweet.

  “Chip. Chip. Chip.” The last one is said loud enough that half the bar turns.

  “What?” replies a surly Peters.

  “Did you hear anything I said in the last five minutes?” Coach snaps.

  I down half my protein shake and try to hide my own irritation. Chip’s game sucked yesterday. Monday is technically our day off, but the quarterbacks had to come in to attend a special meeting at the practice facility. We ran through some game film, but Chip kept complaining about being hungry, refused the catering, and demanded we come here to Stacks.

  It’s late and we’re all a little frustrated, but since we’ve sat down, Chip’s done nothing but complain. The food sucks. The beer’s warm. The service is slower than a turtle’s ass.

  “Where’s the goddamned waitress?” Chip says again.

  “She’s busy. I’m trying to point out something here.” Coach jabs a finger at the print-out of game film.

  Chip’s attention is fixed across the room. “Christ. She’s fucking around while I’m dry as dust. Does she think she gets paid for just being here?” He slams his half-full beer bottle on the table and pushes away from the table.

  “Hey, I’ll get you something from the bar.” I’m halfway out of my chair when coach tugs me down.

  “Let him go,” Coach mutters. “He needs to let off some steam.”

  “What? No.” I shake him off. “She’s a waitress working her ass off for a few measly tips an hour. She doesn’t need an angry player in her face yelling at her because he can’t pop off on his coach.”

  “And you can?” Coach snaps.

  I keep my mouth shut but keep walking. I’m probably going to get yelled at when I get back, but it’ll be worth it. Lainey doesn’t deserve this.

  “Get back here, Jackson,” Coach bellows.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’ve been yelling at your fat ass for ten minutes now,” Chip is yelling at Lainey. “I’m dry as a bone and you’re shaking your tits in front of two old men who wouldn’t know what to do with them if you shoved one in their mouths.”

  The locals are staring at him wide-eyed as if they haven’t seen him throw a hundred temper tantrums on the sidelines. The equipment manager has had to stock extra helmets because Chip has cracked his main one for the last three games.

  I slide between a frozen Lainey and a furious Chip, who towers over the girl by a foot. “Your manager is asking for you, Lainey,” I lie. “You better go before he blows a gasket.”

  “Get out of my fucking way, Rookie. Adult business is happening here,” Chip snarls and punches the heel of his palm against my shoulder.

  I don’t move. “I’ll get you a beer. Why don’t you go sit down?”

  “You don’t get to tell me to sit down, Rookie. I’m the top dog here. Not you. You do what I tell you, not the other way around.”

  There’s a protocol here. A pecking order in the locker room. The starting quarterback sits on top, and then the other stars fall somewhere underneath. I’m not a star. I’m a backup with a gun for an arm, but until my decision-making skills get better and I stop trying to force the ball into tiny defensive holes, I’ll be holding the clipboard on Sundays. And if I keep interfering in Chip’s business, I may be out of a job completely. Despite this, I step forward, making sure my large frame shields Lainey completely.

  “Coach wasn’t done talking. I’ll get you the beer you want. Why don’t you take a seat?”

  Chip’s right fist comes out of nowhere. I knew he was mad. I knew he wouldn’t like me interfering. I didn’t know he’d punch me. It catches me square on the cheek, and if I were smaller, weaker—say a girl Lainey’s size—I would’ve been laid out on my ass.

  But I’ve got twenty pounds on Chip and I lift every day—which is something he hasn’t done since he was a rookie. I absorb the hit, rocking back on my heels.

  Lainey cries out. Coach is half out of his chair. One of the locals whips out a phone. I give the man a hard shake of my head. Guiltily, he sets the phone down.

  I run a hand down my cheek and stare at Chip, who seems shocked at his own sudden violence. The instinct to strike him back rides me hard. I grit my teeth. “I might be your backup, but I’m not your punching dummy. Don’t do that again.”

  I grab Lainey’s wrist and pull her behind me. No way am I leaving her there for Chip to go off on. “Lainey’s clocking out,” I inform the bartender as I march out of the bar.

  As soon as we clear the door, Lainey shakes me off. “You shouldn’t have done that. He’s going to come after you.”

  I finger my cheek. “He already did. I don’t think he’ll try anything again. Coach is big on locker room unity. Chip’s already on thin ice because he’s been losing so many games.” And that’s part of why he punched me. He knows I’m breathing down his shoulder. It’s partly why I let his anger slide. As soon as I can corral my instincts and start making more precise decisions on the field, I will have his starting job.

  “You don’t know him. He’s a…a…”

  “Asshole? Prick? Penishead? Dicknoodle?” I offer.

  She sighs. “I need to go back in.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s Monday night. It’s dead in there. Do you really think you’re going to make any more money tonight? Besides, Chip hasn’t come outside, which means he’s in there stewing about how he didn’t get the last say. You go back in and you’re going to be his target.”

  I think it’s the threat of Chip that tips the scales for her. I put an arm around her shoulders and turn her toward the small, dated Honda she drives. As we approach, I notice there’s a mound of clothes in the backseat.

  “Hey, are you moving? You should’ve said something. Charlie and I would’ve helped.”

  “No. This is laundry.”

  “Laundry?” I bend down to peer in the back. “What’s it doing in your car?”

  “I have to go to a laundromat.”

  “A what?”

  “You don’t know what a laundromat is?”

  I straighten and hold up my hands. “Guilty. I’m guessing it’s a place to wash your clothes.”

  “Yes.” She tilts her head and examines me. “I know you’re rich now, but how rich are you that you don’t know what a laundromat is?”

  “Why don’t we just say I was sheltered and go with that?” I suggest. Lainey already thinks that we’re too far apart to be much more than friends. I should be okay with friends, but…I’m not. I like her.

  There. I admit it. I like Lainey. I like her spirit, her toughness, her love for Cassidy. When they’re together, there’s a sense of family that I miss since my brother Nate joined the SEALS and Charlie went away to Europe for treatment for her childhood cancer. She came back, but she’s never been the same. The closeness we all shared was gone. With Lainey, I feel it again. The…I don’t know what to call it. The magic? A sense of togetherness? It’s corny in my head when I try to explain it, but it feels right.

  Whenever I’m with Lainey, I feel better. Who knows if it’s the same with her, though. Most of the time, I think Lainey’s too tired to feel anything other than exhaustion. She works all night, goes home and takes care of her toddler. I don’t know when she sleeps. I take another look into the backseat of her car. Her night’s not over.

  “How about you let me tag along so I can learn a little about the cold, rough world.”

  She snort-laughs. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

  “No.”

  Her laughter cuts off abruptly. She searches my face. I don’t know what she finds there—sincerity? Want? Need? I have all of those things spinning around in my head.

  “Fine, but you’re in charge of the dirty diapers.”

  “I’m okay with that.” It’s an easy decision. I get to spend more time with Lainey. How can I say no?

  I spoke too soon.

  “It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” Lai
ney says as I wash my hands.

  We just got done loading the fifth washing machine. Lainey’s roll of quarters is being rapidly decimated, and with each coin she shoves into the machines, her shoulders slump a little lower.

  “How does Cassidy go through so many clothes?” She’s a tiny girl. How can she dirty up so many things?

  “She isn’t potty trained yet and she thinks that eating is more fun when she’s wearing half her lunch.”

  “You’re a good mom.” I take a seat next to Lainey and stretch my legs out. “If I had to do what you did, I’d need to enter a coma for at least two days out of the week.”

  “Is that an option?” she jokes. Her head falls back against the wall and her eyes flutter shut.

  Is there a woman out there better than this one? I don’t think so. “It is tonight. Rest, baby. I’ll wake you up when the clothes are done.”

  She nods lightly, too tired to even notice the endearment that slipped out. Her head lolls on her neck and I gently guide it to my shoulder. Tomorrow, after the day is over, I’ll tell her how I feel, how I want to be part of her life, part of Cassidy’s life.

  For now, though, I’ll let her sleep. It’s what she needs the most.

  I run my fingers through the ends of her hair. It’s as soft as it looks. I lift it to my nose and take a sniff. It smells…fresh. It’s dark and lush and would look so fucking hot spread across my sheets.

  My dick grows hard as it always does when I think of her, and this time I don’t will my hard-on away. I took Charlie’s advice at first because I wanted to focus on the team. She was right that I couldn’t play with a single mom—at least not Lainey who worked so hard to keep a roof over her kid’s head and food on her kid’s table.

  But, now, I’m thinking I might be ready for more than just a casual fling. I really do love Cassidy. The idea of being a dad isn’t as scary today as it was a few months ago. There are plenty of dads on the team and they go hard—maybe harder because they have someone to play for.