Draw Play: A Sports Romance

by Tia Lewis

  Jess cleared her throat. “Well, then. You two have fun. And thanks for coming!” She gave me another hug, then a brief squeeze. “Get it, girl!” she whispered, then hurried off.

  I braced myself for the inquisition I knew I’d face the next day.

  “So, do you really want to type up your notes, or was that just an excuse to get out of the cast party?” I asked with a smile as we left the building.

  “No, I really do. I want to get it out while it’s still fresh.” He patted his bag. “Laptop’s in here, ready to go. Unless you had something else to do.”

  What the heck else do I ever have to do? “No, not at all. I’m happy to help you out. I can fill in anything you don’t remember.”

  The tension nearly crackled between us as we walked the long path through the quad to the library. It stayed open twenty-four-seven to accommodate students with odd schedules or a noisy apartment. At nearly ten at night, there were only a few students there.

  We took our regular secluded table, far away from the others. Jake opened his laptop.

  “When is your paper due?” I asked.

  “Not until after the break.”

  “Smart—getting a head start on it. I can tell I’m having a good influence on you,” I teased.

  “I would have said that myself, but you already did so I won’t bother.”

  I laughed at him, and he laughed along with me. It felt so good to sit and laugh with him like we were just two ordinary people. Not like I wanted to jump his bones, which I most definitely did.

  “Shh!” We both turned to see a student with his finger raised to his lips.

  I stifled a giggle. “We're too loud,” I whispered.

  “We’ll have to whisper very, very quietly,” he replied.

  I dissolved into chuckles. “Okay, okay. Let’s get serious, or we’ll be here all night.” I stretched, shaking out my hands.

  “What are you doing?” Jake asked, watching me with a smirk.

  “Stretching. Getting ready to think. What’s so weird about that?”

  “I didn’t say it was weird.”

  “Your face did,” I said, stretching from the waist, touching the floor.

  “Because it’s a little weird. But I wasn’t going to say it.”

  I snickered again. “You have your warm-ups, I have mine.” I pointed to the screen. “All right. Go.”

  He flexed his fingers. “So, Heidi was the main character.”

  “Pretty good, seeing as how the play is named after her,” I muttered.

  “Shut up. Heidi. Main character.” He typed. “She came of age in the sixties, then went through the whole seventies bullshit.”

  “Oh, please, write that in your paper. Please.”

  He smirked. “And then, when she got to the eighties and nineties, she wondered where she was going. Like, all the things she worked for, for so long, weren’t the answer at all. She didn’t know what she wanted. She had to go against everything she thought she wanted when she was younger. Plus, it wasn’t like any real change happened, anyway. She still had to work even harder to be heard.”

  “That’s fascinating, the way you see it.”

  “Is that wrong?”

  “No, not at all. I mean it. There are different ways of saying it, but you got to the heart of it all.” I sat on the table, my feet on the chair beside him. “I think she felt betrayed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she spent all this time with the women around her, the feminists. They were going to take their lives into their hands and rise above male repression and do their own thing. Only … the other women ended up falling into the old roles, the ones they fought against. And she was the only hold-out. She was lonely. She felt like they betrayed her.”

  “Huh. That’s interesting.” He tapped his fingers along the keys, taking down what I said. “That makes sense.”

  “Like, that consciousness-raising group. What a joke,” I said.

  “You think so?”

  “I do. They were all so full of it. They went right back to being who they said they didn’t want to be. That was how I saw it. They just went whichever way the wind blew them. Shifty bitches.”

  He laughed. “Okay. That’s cool. Maybe I should add that to my paper, too.”

  I had to laugh at myself—softly, so the student across the room didn’t get angry. He had his back to me, though so I couldn’t tell.

  “I guess we take things based on how we feel,” I said. “Like you. Do you think the choice to play football is going to carry you through for the rest of your life?”

  He frowned, looking up at me. “What?”

  “You said Heidi crosses this two, three-decade span and winds up wondering if anything she did was worthwhile because she feels betrayed by the people she thought she was fighting alongside. Is that you? Do you worry that you’ll feel that way?”

  He stared at the laptop screen, deep in thought. I hoped I hadn’t upset him … then again, I hoped I had. He needed to think his choices through. Football was dangerous. How many players were still coming forward, talking about brain injuries and things like that? I might not have watched the game, but I paid attention to the media.

  “I don’t know.” He looked up again. “I don’t. I hope not.”

  I nodded. “It’s pretty deep stuff. I know. We didn’t come here to talk about that.”

  He didn’t return his attention to the laptop, though. Instead, his hand found my ankle.

  “Whoa! What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “Remember when he said. Shh.” He jerked his head in the direction of our friend, still reading on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, his hand began sliding up the inside of my leg.

  “Jake, not here!” I mouthed, swatting his hand.

  “Fine.” He grinned and grabbed his cell phone.

  A few minutes later my phone vibrated on the table, and I read a text message that sent shivers down my body. I want you, Claire. I'll make you beg. I'll fuck you until you can't feel your legs. Whisper in your ear to cum for me while you dig your nails into my back.

  “Oh my God,” I blushed uncontrollably as his hand made its way back onto my legs. “Jake, stop!”

  “Do you really want me to?” he whispered, moving steadily upward. “Tell me you really want me to, and I will.”

  I should have. I knew that I should have. I should have made Jake stop. We were in the library, for crying out loud. People studied there. And we weren’t alone.

  I looked around. I didn’t see any cameras. At the same time, that sneaky hand reached the inside of my thigh. I gasped, closing my eyes.

  “I’ll stop. I will.” His hand disappeared up my skirt.

  I opened my legs slightly, aching for his touch.

  “Hmm,” he whispered, “I think you want me to keep going.”

  “Shh,” I replied. I kept my eyes on the other student, terrified that he might turn around at any moment. Meanwhile, Jake rubbed the backs of his fingers against the mound of my pussy. He applied pressure to the spot right over my clit, grinding his knuckles in over my panties. I inched forward, moving my hips closer to the edge of the table, spreading my legs a little wider.

  “Damn,” he whispered. His breathing was faster than before. He watched me, and our eyes locked for a moment just as he slid his hand beneath my panties. I almost arched off the table, sheer delight ripping through me. “You’re so wet, so fast,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.

  I sighed, pressing my lips together to hold back the moans that threatened to rip loose at any moment. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t for fear of missing getting caught.

  “Yes,” I whispered, moving my hips in time with his touch. He ran his thumb over my button in slow circles, driving me mad with pleasure. It raced through me, consuming me. I reached down and held his hand tight as the orgasm closed in and shuddered as quietly as I could when it hit me.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, shaking. I couldn’t believe it. And we had gotte
n away with it, too. My skin was flushed, my heart racing.

  Jake wasn’t finished, though. He pushed back slightly, and I got a look at the impressive erection he sported. “What do you want to do with this?” he asked.

  I licked my lips. He had other ideas, though.

  “Come here.” He took my hand and pulled me from the table, then to the back of the bookcases. It was totally secluded where we went, giving us a measure of privacy. He pushed me against one of the bookcases, invading my mouth with his tongue. I moaned into his lips, overcome again. I couldn’t have stopped if I tried. He fumbled with the zipper of his cargo shorts as I held on to him, running my hands over his hard body. When his rigid member was free, I wrapped my hand partially around it, still amazed how big he was.

  “You’re such a bad girl,” he whispered as I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth. I was still relatively new to it, but I worked up and down, sucking, pressing my tongue to the underside of the shaft. He seemed to love it, holding my head in place as he thrust forward with his hips, then releasing me so I could bob up and down.

  I sucked the head gently, stroking his shaft as I went. “Yeah … just like that…” he whispered, closing his eyes, throwing his head back. I glanced up to see him lost in pleasure, and my wetness between my thighs only increased. I loved knowing I could reduce him to a quaking pile of muscle.

  “Quick,” he whispered, pulling out of my mouth. I stood, and he pushed me against the bookcase again. He fumbled with a condom. I held on to the shelves as he lifted my leg, pulling my panties aside to push his way into me.

  I cried out softly before I could stop myself. He covered my mouth with his hand and fucked me hard, forcefully, driving himself again and again upward into my pussy. I couldn’t believe it was happening. The excitement of knowing we might be discovered at any moment was almost too much to take. His length filling me over and over, his mouth crushed against mine, his hands on my breasts, kneading, and pinching. It was all too much, and together it was enough to send me skyrocketing. A few more quick, sharp thrusts and he leaned against me, shaking, groaning against my neck.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back on the shelves, working desperately to keep my gasps for air as quiet as possible. I lowered my leg once he left me, and we straightened ourselves out.

  “I never thought I would like going to the library at night,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me.

  As we left the library, still grinning like fools over getting away with a public quickie, I had a thought that wiped the smile from my face.

  “Break starts tomorrow,” I said. A whole week and I wouldn’t be able to see Jake. I didn’t want to say anything about it to make him think I was upset about being apart … but I was upset about being apart.

  “I know,” he said. “Are you going home?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t look or sound happy.

  “I guess I’ll see you when we get back. Are you planning to study while you’re at home?”

  “Geez, you’re a machine!”

  “I know. So, are you?”

  “Yes, Ma’am!”

  “Watch it, or I’ll have a whip the next time you see me.”

  “Don’t get me excited again,” he growled as we got to the main doors of my building. I turned to him.

  “Well, have a good break. I guess I’ll see you next Monday.” I wanted him to say he would miss me. After what we’d just done, it was the least he could say.

  “Okay.” He backed away. “Later.”

  My heart ached as he moved farther away. I turned so he wouldn’t see the tears build up in my eyes.

  “Hey.” He took me by the shoulders and spun me around, then kissed me deeply. We stood there for what felt like forever, with his arms around my waist and mine around his shoulders. I stood on my tip toes savoring his lips. When we parted, I was breathless.

  “See you when we get back,” he breathed. Then he turned and left for real, while I held onto the door to keep myself steady.

  17

  Jake

  I pulled the truck up in front of the old rowhome. It looked exactly the same as it always had, only dirtier and older. The porch roof sagged. The concrete steps were cracked and crumbling. There were bars on the windows. The front door was scratched and grimy. I hated driving home in my SUV, always afraid somebody would steal it—even though most of the neighborhood knew who I was and didn’t screw around with me.

  I wondered how much longer it would be before the whole house fell down on Mom’s head. Either that or the magazines and newspapers she insisted on stacking around the house would fall down and pin her tiny body until she starved to death—and she was already close to that.

  The door opened and out stepped my mother. All ninety pounds of her.

  “Jake! Come here, son!” she cried, holding her arms out.

  I opened the car door, and the smell of cigarettes hit me as soon as I did. One of my biggest fears was that she would fall asleep while smoking.

  I gave her a hug, noticing the old housedress she wore and how thin she was. “Mom, are you eating?”

  “Of course. I’m alive, right?”

  “You’re not eating enough. You’re going to waste away.”

  “I’m just fine. Women are supposed to be slim.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. Women were expected to do a lot of things, according to her. They were supposed to have boyfriends; they were supposed to have fun. They were supposed to smoke cigarettes to keep their weight down. They were supposed to have a cocktail or two. They were supposed to walk around with their hair in curlers all day long.

  “Come on in,” she said, pulling me by the arm. I wished to God I didn’t have to be there. I wished I could have afforded to go skiing or to the beach like my friends. I could hardly afford the payments on my car.

  The house was no bigger than it had been over the summer, of course. The walls were still as depressing, with the brown paneling and faded pictures tacked up on them. The plastic cover on the couch was still torn in a few places, the TV just as old. The carpet was just as worn down, little better than a bare floor. There was still nothing in the wooden cabinets or the fridge.

  “Mom, I have to go to the store. I can’t live on saltine crackers and orange juice all week.” I held out my hand. “Give me some money, and I’ll go for you.”

  “I don’t have any,” she said. The look in her eye told me she wasn’t in the mood for an argument, so I let it go. I knew she had money stashed somewhere—a coffee can, her dresser drawer, the cookie jar. She always hoarded money “just in case.” Just in case she ran out of smokes or cheap vodka.

  “Can you get me a pack of Virginia Slims while you’re there?” she called out as I got into the car. I sighed loudly and turned up the stereo even louder. Five minutes, and I already wanted to get the hell out. How had I lived there for so long?

  I drove through my old town. Nothing ever changed. I could have walked through blindfolded and known where everything was. I even could have sidestepped the broken concrete in front of Mr. Black’s barber shop. That sidewalk had been broken since before I was born, probably.

  The corner store hadn’t changed since the seventies. The same faded awning that used to be red and green once, but was faded from years of sun and rain. The same handwritten ads in the window. Only the prices changed. When I walked in, it was like walking through a time warp. I could have been five years old again.

  “Jake Jennings! How nice to see you!” Stella shouted from behind the cash register, with a smile just as big as ever. It matched her oversized body.

  “Hello, Stella.”

  “You’ve gotten so tall and big.” She gripped my biceps.

  I blushed and told her I was in town over the break. She asked me college was going, and I told her, “It’s great, thank you, Ma’am.”

  “I’m just here to pick up some things for my mother,” I explained.

  “Such a good son. She’
s always sayin’ what a good boy you are, too, every time she comes in here. She can’t wait till the spring when you get signed by a big team. We’re all rootin’ for ya!”

  “Fingers crossed,” I smiled and held up crossed fingers, then pulled out a cart to do the shopping through the narrow, overstuffed, dusty aisles. As soon as my back turned to her, I stopped smiling. Of course, my mother bragged on me. Of course, she told everybody who would listen that her boy was going to be a big football star in the NFL. So he could support her, of course.

  It boiled my blood. I wanted to take care of my mother, but I hated that she expected it. I would have her around my neck for the rest of my life.

  “Jake?”

  I looked down the aisle. For a split-second, I thought it might be my ex-girlfriend, Melissa. It wasn’t. Just a girl I sort of recognized.

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled. “Greta. From high school. Remember me?”

  Then I recognized her face. She was a friend of Melissa’s. “Yeah. Sorry, it’s been a long time. How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. You’re home on break too, huh?”

  “Same for you?”

  “Yeah. It’s a real brain shift,” she said, grinning.

  “Tell me about it.” I rubbed my hand along the back of my neck then ran it through my hair. “Especially when nothing here actually changes.”

  “I know. It’s like a spooky movie or something. Time froze here.” We both laughed. “Hey, did you hear Melissa and her boyfriend just got engaged?”

  My heart clenched like a fist, but I smiled anyway. “No. No, I didn’t know that. My mom didn’t get a chance to tell me.”

  “Yeah, they’re planning a big destination wedding.” She rolled her eyes. “Like any of us can afford to go to something like that.”

  Because she doesn’t want you to, baby. It was so obvious. Just another way for Melissa to forget all about where she came from. I couldn’t blame her. I’d been back for way less than an hour, and I wanted to get the hell out and never go back.