by B. B. Hamel
He was clearly rejecting her. I could see that, plain as day. But it was still a shock to see Cathy kneeling in front of him, giving him those eyes, even if he was getting up and trying to get away.
That hurt. I didn’t want it to hurt, but it did. Gibson didn’t owe me anything, and he wasn’t my boyfriend, so he could do whatever he wanted. He was a big star on campus after all. Plenty of girls were probably throwing themselves at him. Just because he got me pregnant by accident didn’t mean I got to control whatever he did.
But I hated seeing that. I hated how crazy it made me feel and how angry.
So I left. He wanted me to stay, wanted to see me, but I couldn’t look at him. I just kept seeing the famous football player, the big man on campus, and not Gibson, not the guy I had been spending so much time with this last week.
I trudged back to my apartment, feeling like shit. I locked up my bike and found Harper sitting on the couch. “Back so soon?” she asked.
I sat down next to her. “I wish I could drink.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I caught him with his ex.”
“What?”
“I mean, she was throwing herself at him and he was rejecting her, but still.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. She was on her knees in front of him. I could hear him turning her down even before I got in the room, but I still didn’t like seeing it.”
“Man. What a whore.”
I laughed. “Don’t say that.”
“Whatever. I’m just defending my friend.”
“I know, Harps. I appreciate it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Honestly? I’m not going to do anything. I’m just going to sit here and forget about it.”
She sighed. “Oh, Avery, this sucks.”
“I know. I’m freaking pregnant and I have a huge crush on my baby daddy but I’m doing this weird study on him. Meanwhile, he keeps trying to come on to me but I’m too afraid to do anything. Oh, and my parents hate me.”
“Senior year is going great so far,” she said.
I laughed. “Yeah. It’s really awesome for me. This is not how I imagined it would go.”
“To be fair, does anyone think they’re going to get pregnant by the school super jock?”
“Probably not.”
“At least you know he likes you.”
“I don’t know. He wants me, but I don’t know if there’s anything more than that.”
“Come on, he’s letting you study him for this bio thing. The guy is into you.”
I sighed. “I guess. Can we not talk about Gibson for a little bit?”
“Sure,” she said, turning on the Real Housewives. “We can do that.”
I stared at the screen and did my best to turn off my brain, but it was impossible to shut down the constant cycle of worry and fear I was running through.
We must have watched an entire season of that show by the time I was sucked back into reality. One second I was staring at the television, and the next it was already ten at night.
“Did we just time travel?” I asked Harper as she got up and got herself some water.
“I think so. I’m pretty sure we just fell into a reality TV time vortex.”
“I suddenly have this insane urge to get a boob job.”
“That’s just the vortex affecting your brain. You must resist.”
I laughed and got up, stretching.
Suddenly, the buzzer on our door rang.
Harper raised an eyebrow. “Expecting someone?”
“Not until tomorrow.. Are you?”
“Nope.”
I walked over to the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Avery, it’s me.”
I knew that voice. Gibson.
“Hi, Gibson.”
“Mind if I come up?”
“I guess so.”
I buzzed him in. Harper gave me a look.
“What?” I asked her.
“You sure you want to see him right now?”
“No, but he’s here.”
“You can always throw him out.”
“I know.”
“Yell if you want me to do it for you. I’ll be in my room with earplugs in, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“Oh, you know.” She grinned at me and then disappeared back into her room.
I sighed, shaking my head. A second later, there was a knock on the door. I pulled it open.
Gibson stood there wearing jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I couldn’t help but glance at the tattoos on his arms and at the way he held himself, grinning at me slightly.
“Hey,” he said.
“Gibson, what are you doing here?”
He laughed. “You sound surprised to see me.”
“I don’t know. I just figured you’d be out somewhere celebrating.”
“I could be, but I decided I wanted to be here instead.”
I bit my lip. “Come in.” I stepped aside and he walked in, looking around.
“Want anything?” I asked him.
“I’m good.”
“Sit down, I guess.”
He took a seat on the couch, crossing his legs. “What did you think of the game earlier?”
I shrugged. “It was exciting.”
“First half wasn’t great.”
“No, but you came back.”
“Early season jitters.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the ground. “Well, since you’re here.”
“You want to do my vitals?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
He began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m all yours.”
That was what I was afraid of. I left the room and quickly grabbed my bag. When I came back, he was sitting on the couch, grinning at me casually, his shirt draped over the chair. I glanced at his body, still not used to seeing him like that, before I got out my equipment.
“Sorry again about what you saw earlier,” he said.
“I know it wasn’t your fault.”
“People do shit like that,” he said. “I didn’t want it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like what I said before. People want things from me, but they also want to give me things, because they think they can get me in their debt. I hate being in people’s debt.”
“I understand. It’s really okay.” I started with his blood pressure and then got his temperature.
“How am I?” he asked.
“What? You’re amazing,” I said, off balance.
“I meant my vitals. I know how great I am.”
I blushed. “They’re good. About the same as last time.”
“Good. I need to be healthy.”
“Yeah. Your body is your job.”
“Pretty much.”
My fingertips brushed across his skin, and suddenly I realized something.
He could be out anywhere right now. He could be at some party having a wild time. People wanted him, wanted him to go to their parties. I was sure he had a hundred invites on his phone right now, and probably all of his buddies were wondering where he was.
And instead of doing all of that, instead of enjoying his victory, he was in my apartment with me. He was letting me take his vitals, but that was just an excuse. He wanted to be around me so much that he was willing to skip going out and having a good time.
I pulled off the blood pressure cuff and took out the thermometer. I took his pulse, feeling nervous for some reason. It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d done this with him, but it felt like we’d never touched before.
“Your heart rate is a little high,” I commented when I was done.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why?”
“I’m looking at you, thinking about what I want to do to you.”
I cocked my head to the side slightly. I felt a thrill jolt through me. “Like what?”
He re
ached forward and took my hair, pulling me toward him. “I keep thinking about the way your pussy felt wrapped around my hard cock.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said, smiling slightly. I could feel how wet I was already.
“I want your ass in the air, begging for it, dripping wet. I want to slowly push myself inside you, holding your hips tight. I want to feel you shiver as I fill that tight little pussy.”
“Okay,” I said, and he kissed me.
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his shirtless chest. I could feel his warmth and his hard muscles against me.
His kiss was what I’d been needing, what I’d been begging for. His taste flooded my mouth, new and familiar all at once. I kissed him hard, his hands pulling me closer, tighter. We kissed like that hard, thrills running down my spine in waves and waves of need and want.
And just as I felt myself getting into it, completely losing myself, his phone began to ring.
I pulled back, breathing heavily.
“Don’t stop,” he said to me.
“Answer it,” I said. “It could be important.”
“It’s not.”
“Answer it. I’m not going anywhere.”
He frowned and then grabbed his phone from his pocket. He answered it.
“What?” His expression was annoyed, but a second later he went completely blank. “Okay,” he said. “I know where that is. When?” He paused to listen. “All right. Fine.” He hung up the phone.
“What was that?”
“Listen, I need to go.”
I frowned. “Really?”
He sighed. “Avery, believe me, leaving right now is the fucking last thing I want to do, but this is important.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a business thing.”
“At ten on a Saturday?”
“Yeah.” He stood up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“It’s okay,” I said. He buttoned up his shirt, and I wished he wouldn’t. When he was finished, he pulled me up toward him and kissed me again.
“I promise, if this weren’t incredibly important, I wouldn’t go.”
“I believe you,” I said, and I did.
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
He let me go and then turned and left.
I stared at the door for a second before the frustration really hit me. What awful fucking timing.
Why the hell did I tell him to answer that phone?
I sighed and slowly put my equipment away. I was still soaking wet and frustrated, but I was going to have to wait. At least I’d finally kissed him, finally given in to what I really wanted.
That was better than nothing, at least.
17
Gibson
I had the worst fucking luck.
I looked around the parking lot of the abandoned high school, but I was still alone. It was ten thirty and I was right on time, but it looked like the guy was running late.
The high school used to serve the whole town around MD, but that was a long time ago. It closed down when the steel mills started to disappear. Now it was just a hangout for druggies and homeless people. There was trash littering the parking lot, and the windows were all busted out from the buildings.
First it was the janitor that cock blocked me. I knew she wanted it that night, and I had been about to take what I needed. Now it was the damn fucking mob trying to give me my money.
I almost wanted to tell the bastards to wait. Almost. If I weren’t doing this for her benefit, I just might have rescheduled.
But this money was for her. I wasn’t going to touch a dime of it, not until our baby was born. Maybe five grand wasn’t enough for us to live on, but it was definitely a lot of money, enough to get started at least.
I saw a pair of lights approaching down the road. A black car pulled into the parking lot. It slowly came to a stop across from me. The engine shut off and a door opened.
A tall man got out, a man I didn’t recognize. He walked toward me carrying a black duffel bag.
“Gibson?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
He nodded. “I recognize you. Good game, kid.”
“Thanks. Who are you?”
“My name is Rafa,” he said. “I’ll be handling your shit from now on.”
“What happened to the other guy?”
“Nothing happened to him. It’s just that he’s a small fish. I’m a much bigger fucking fish. Get it?”
“I get it.” I nodded at the bag. “Is that my money?”
“It sure as fuck is.” He tossed me the bag. I caught it and opened up the zipper.
It was full of cash.
“That’s five grand,” he said.
“Good. Should I count it?”
He laughed. “You can trust me.”
I frowned at that. “I don’t owe you shit,” I said. “And I don’t trust you.”
“I hear you. But we should try and be friends.”
“Okay then. We’re friends. That all you needed?”
“Hold on now, Gibson.” Rafa grinned at me. He was about my height and my size, and there was something dangerous about him. The first man I’d met so far had seemed soft, but there was an edge to Rafa. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was cautious. “I have a proposal for you.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m listening.”
“You did a real good job. We made a nice little profit from this. I believe we could have a beautiful relationship going forward.”
“I don’t want a relationship,” I said. “I just need money. I wanted a fucking loan.”
“Fuck the loan,” he said, waving a hand. “The loan would be garbage. We’d gouge you like crazy, never let you go. Fuck the loan.”
“Gouge me?” I asked. “Like you’re trying to do now?”
He grinned huge. “You’re smart.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay then. Out of respect, I’ll skip the bullshit and play this straight.”
“I appreciate that.”
“We want you to throw a game. We’re willing to pay you fifty thousand dollars.”
I stared at him, not sure what to say.
That was a lot of money. Fifty thousand dollars sure as hell beat five grand, and it would be enough to give Avery and the baby a seriously good start to their life.
But throw an entire game?
I couldn’t imagine it. Throwing a half was bad enough, but throwing an entire game, even just one single game, could fuck my career. Depending on the opponent, Coach might bench me completely, and then I’d be done.
Throwing a game was dangerous, but the money equaled the danger.
“I have to think about it,” I told him.
“Okay, okay. I hear you. I didn’t expect you to say yes right off the bat. But listen, we’ll even let you choose which game to throw. How’s that sound?”
I shrugged. “It sounds better.”
“Okay then. You think and you get back to me. My card is in the bag.”
“Will do.”
He nodded, turned, and got into his car. He started it up, backed out, and slowly drove away.
I stared after him, my mind warring with itself. I needed that money, but I couldn’t throw a game. Or maybe I could if it was the right game and the season was going a certain way. Maybe I could throw a game if it just didn’t matter all that much in the long run.
This was dangerous, so fucking dangerous, but as I headed back toward campus, I hefted the bag in my hands.
Five grand. No matter what, I had this money and could use it on Avery and the baby. Every dime of this was for them.
I got out my phone and sent her a text. It was almost eleven, but maybe she’d still be awake. I felt elated, excited, and conflicted. I needed to see her, and I still felt her ringing in my blood.
Campus wasn’t far away, and neither was Avery.
18
Avery
“L
isten, I think we should go out.”
I looked up at Harper and slowly shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on, I won’t drink, either. We can be the sober losers standing in the corner.”
“What’s the point?”
“You can’t keep just moping around here. So he had to go. So what?”
I sighed and shook my head. Gibson had disappeared the second we kissed, and I just had no desire to go out. I was tired and lonely and frustrated, and I had no interest in going to some awful house party. Those were barely fun when I could drink; I couldn’t imagine what they’d be like sober.
“It’s not just that,” I said. “I’m just a pregnant weirdo. I don’t feel like going to a house party.”
She sighed. “Okay then. Suit yourself. I’m going out, though.”
“Good. Have fun.”
“I’ll try. But seriously, call or text me if you want me to come home.” She shook her head. “I hate leaving you’re here like this.”
I laughed. “Harps, it’s okay. I’m the pregnant one. At least you should have a good time while you can.”
She smiled. “Great point. See you later.” She left the apartment, and I was alone.
I didn’t mind. I really did want her to have a life. Just because I was pregnant and couldn’t have fun anymore didn’t mean she needed to sacrifice her life for me. She was already an incredible help with everything. At the very least she should go out on a weekend night.
Besides, I had everything I needed: comfortable clothes, comfortable couch, comfortable blanket, and entertaining, comfortable reality TV all night long. What else could a pregnant college girl need?
I stared at the television but kept thinking about Gibson. I didn’t know what that kiss meant or what could have been so important to pull him away in that moment. His lips had felt incredible against mine, and everything about him drove me absolutely wild. But there was something else going on with him, something he wasn’t telling me about. That was pretty obvious.
The image of his ex-girlfriend kneeling down in front of him came back to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was her who had called him. Or maybe he had a bunch of girls like that. It wouldn’t exactly surprise me, considering how he walked around campus like a hero or something.
