Naomi nodded. “She said for you to remain in the room. Don’t leave for any reason.”
A flash of hope shot through Edy. “And you think we can get away with sneaking him in now? He wants to come now.”
Naomi cringed. “It’s not the best idea. But I think we can pull it off. If Tamela or London show up, we can always stuff him in the bathroom.”
Edy’s cheeks heated at that. They were going all in for her, risking their own necks because she missed her boyfriend. “Are you sure about this? I mean, you don’t have to help me.” Her heart pounded at the thought of crossing their captain so openly. Still, Hassan had said he needed her and her heart had nearly pulled apart at the words.
Naomi squeezed her hand. “I know you miss him. You’ve been down about it since you got here. Let’s cheer you up.”
Edy had the sudden, rushing impulse to hug her roommate. So she did. When had the girl began to mean something to her? When had she gained these friends that would go all in with her, risking obscene punishments like running suicide laps and standing endlessly? But she would do it for them, Edy realized.
“Let’s get to work,” Naomi said. “The faster we get him in, the faster we can breathe easier.”
The operation to sneak Hassan into Edy’s room was embarrassingly elaborate. A girl at each end of the hall: Willow and Naomi. Cassie posted up in front of Captain Napoleon’s door just in case it opened, then she would raise her hand as if she’d been about to knock. Her job would be to block Napoleon’s view. Edy, meanwhile, stood in her doorway to usher Hassan in. The whole arrangement went off beautifully, flawlessly, even with Hassan’s bewildered expression. There hadn’t been time enough in the two weeks they’d been in Baton Rouge to explain the fist-tight rule the upperclassmen held over them. So, Edy swung him in and leapt to embrace him, only to find those strong, sure, solid arms wrapping her and melting her into the warmth of his body.
“You,” Edy said against the flex of his chest.
“You,” Hassan said and brushed his lips across her forehead.
“I missed—”
He cut her off with a kiss, a kiss hard and insistent, yet somehow tenderly wanting, too. His hands dropped from the small of her back, lower, to grip her backside, then kneading it, before racing up underneath her tee to lift it off all at once.
His touch seared, incinerating, burning her from within. He was greedy for her, he said. He needed her, he said, and her mouth moved without need of thought. “Yes, please,” she said and wondered how it was that she said it again, and again, ‘Yes please,’ until she came to beg.
Both his hands slid down the side of her body, gliding over her hips and looping her pants and panties in one go. No sooner had he dropped them than did she lift her mouth to kiss him, to taste the intensity of him just a second after they’d parted. She found her fingers in his hair, gripping, pulling, saying his name, and her forgetting how to breathe.
He lifted her onto her dresser and shoved aside a few toiletries and pictures of them. A moment of their fumbled kisses passed, with him unbuckling his jeans and her blindly helping, then him reaching around for something. She exhaled at the sound of crumpling foil and caught a laugh from him in the middle of their kiss.
He kissed her deep enough to curl her toes, then her legs, tight around him. His tongue slipped deep in her mouth, then deeper, sliding to a rhythm she knew and wanted, to the rhythm of him loving her.
And with a lift of her leg so that she curved back and open for him, he shoved into her with such intensity that an earthquake avalanched inside her.
She gripped his shoulder and bit down on a moan as her whole body went rigid.
He filled her to capacity, stretched her a bit beyond, and settled, finally, into a fit he’d molded himself.
“Hassan,” she said.
“Yeah, Cake?” he said, voice raw.
But she had no words for him, only a name, his name, whispered like a last wish, a dying word. Soon he grunted, snatched her tight to him, and pressed into her with unrelenting pressure. She trembled against him, whimpered what might have been a word, and ruptured.
He’d been holding back on her. She knew that now as he plowed into her over and again, knocking lotions, perfume, and a bottle of vitamins from their rocking dresser. He didn’t care. He was on fire. He burned and wanted extinguishing. He wanted everything she had to give.
Hassan fell still, breathing ragged, as he gripped Edy’s dresser. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt it dampened now with his sweat.
“God, you feel incredible,” Edy murmured. “So incredible.”
She opened her eyes when he didn’t answer, only to find him looking down at her. Searching her face for… something.
“I love you,” he said and drove in again.
Edy ate a moan. She felt her body curling against him, racing to the finish line, and she buried her face in the thick, corded muscle of his shoulder.
He rammed. Rammed until she jabbered, until she clawed at his slickened back, until her own forehead pricked with sweat amidst an anguished stream of begging.
And then they were done. Skin-against-skin wet and pulsing against each other, both of them struggled for breath.
“I have to go,” Hassan said and pulled away from her.
“What?” Edy said and blinked blankly.
Hassan eased off his condom and disappeared for the bathroom, where a flush sounded a few seconds later. He returned to grab his jeans, pull them up, and zipper them.
“It’s a thing—a tradition,” Hassan said, “with the football team and us having won our first game. I—I have to go,” he said.
Edy’s lips screwed up tight. She had traditions she’d blown off for him. She’d stuck her neck out—twice now—to be with him and all they’d done was have sex and text. In fact, they hadn’t had a single detailed conversation since they’d arrived in Baton Rouge. She’d been looking forward to changing that.
“Night, Cake,” he said and kissed her on the forehead. When he took a step, Edy grabbed him by the wrist.
“No,” she said.
He looked at a loss. “I want to stay. But I have to—”
“Go after you hear me out,” she said. “Because we came here together. But not for what just happened. We came to be together. That means more than a quick physical connection and a run out the door. You may not understand it, but there’s a price I pay anytime I’m with you right now. The least you could do is…”
She failed. She didn’t know what the least he could do was. But it wasn’t run straight out the door.
He stopped. Seemed to consider it. “I’m sorry, Edy. I’ll be in a hurry sometimes. But have faith in me, okay? Have faith in us. It doesn’t mean anything when I rush. I just try to get the most of what little time we have and I…” He looked around, as if the room might suddenly help him. “You mean everything to me. You believe that, don’t you?” He reached up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. Sweaty, it clung to her skin.
She nodded, because she still did.
Less than a minute later, he was gone.
Sunday night they had the den. Edy had been through enough nights with the upperclassmen to know that something was amiss. They said little as they blindfolded each freshman and shoved them into cars. During their eerily silent drive, Edy stressed in anticipation. The darkness was the worst, with its blind need for trust and its sense of disorientation.
They were meant not to know where the den was so they could never pass the information on. Since Edy still didn’t know her way around Baton Rouge, there was no chance of her recognizing her whereabouts anyway, when they climbed out the car, removed the blindfolds and entered the apartment complex.
They were in someone’s apartment again. Someone’s cheaply-carpeted, white-walled, possibly just-fumigated apartment. Dust layered the sparsely furnished place. One maroon couch, which Edy had never had the luxury of sitting on, sat against a wall nearly close enough to touch the moment sh
e entered. In one corner, a roach the size of Edy’s palm lay on its back, legs bent. She couldn’t stop staring at it.
Tamela and London lined the freshmen up, creating a miniature arc because of space restrictions. Afterwards, they would likely have to recite team history, noting famous dancers that had come from the squad, or some other such mundane task. After that, there would be an excruciating amount of exercise, some alcohol for the upperclassmen, and whatever other humiliating tasks they could think up.
“Tonight, ladies,” Tamela said, “you are here because one of you has decided to disobey. The rules and the den are here to help you shed all presumption, pride, and naivety. Where are your priorities? With the future of this team and your career or with whims of the moment?” She cast a meaningful glance at Edy. “You will decide once and for all where your priorities lie. And if those priorities lie with your boyfriend, then by all means, we wish the two of you happiness. Understand that, Phelps?”
Oh God. Every pair of eyes turned on Edy. She nodded weakly, anticipation cranking up enough to make her stomach cramp.
“Good then. Step out to receive your punishment. Meanwhile, I have something special for the rest of you, as I know you helped her sneak that goddamned boy in her room.”
Faye Richardson’s mouth fell open. “I’ve been meaning to ask whether all this is sanctioned?” she said. “Because I don’t think—”
Tamela stepped into her space, so close that they could’ve kissed. She folded her arms and looked up at Faye like the bulldog she was. “Thinking of reporting me, are you? And just who do you think is ready to listen? Our coach, who just happens to be my mom? Or will you take something down to the Athletic Department? Maybe we can go together. I haven’t visited Aunt Violet and Uncle Ray in a while. They’re always getting on their favorite niece about neglecting them. Oh! I have a suggestion. Why don’t you take your complaint straight to the Dean of Students? Dr. Beck is Mummy’s first cousin, once removed. Or something like that. I keep meaning to ask her how that works. Guess I’ll ask at the next family reunion.”
Edy stared at her.
“Shit,” Naomi said.
“Uh, what is it you want me to do?” Edy asked loudly. She had Rebecca Phelps for a mother and knew not to screw around with people who had connections.
“Step forward,” Tamela said.
Edy glanced at her, wondering about the wisdom of doing anything they said, before she moved, her feet deciding for her that she would comply.
“Rat,” London said.
“Rat! Rat! Rat!” the older girls began to chant, falling together in some sort of monstrous chorus. Edy’s eyes swept wide as she took them in, angry faces, balled fists, shouts all around.
“We make examples of rats,” Tamela said, “and you have been marked as a rat.”
“But… I don’t know what that means,” Edy said softly.
A bottle of tequila started around the room. Each girl took a swig straight from the source. When it came to Edy, she knew to do the same.
“You questioned my authority,” Tamela said to her. “As did this one.” She gestured to Faye Richardson. “Step forward or find your own way home.”
Edy lifted her chin. She forced air down and into her lungs. The urge to pant swung in and Edy clamped down hard. For some reason, meeting their abuse fearlessly was important to her.
“On your knees, please,” Tamela said. “Both of you.”
Every fiber in Edy resisted the notion of dropping to her knees before this girl. But the gauntlet had been thrown. Disobey and get tossed from the apartment and the team, of course. Edy didn’t doubt that the coach’s daughter could persuade her mom that one or two teammates had violated core rules. There would be no recourse for a stranger with no connections. And it didn’t matter anyway. She’d crawl through fire to keep on dancing.
Without looking at Faye, Edy dropped to her knees, careful to keep her head up. She would not bow unnecessarily. She was not afraid.
Several girls down, Faye took a step back. “We were told in orientation that we were not to be subjected to any physical or mental activity meant to cause intimidation, threat—”
“On your knees, Richardson,” Tamela said softly, the warning in her voice subtle as the wind.
“Physical or mental stress, humiliation or anguish—” Faye continued, voice approaching a shout.
Edy leapt to her feet, panicking. “Just get on your goddamn knees,” she said and yanked Faye down. The girl was a brilliant dancer. She couldn’t let a couple of assholes keep her from what she loved. She could do this. So could Edy.
Tamela smiled. “Beautiful. Now crawl to the window and smile at la cucaracha.”
Edy’s eyes flew wide. Did she mean that fucking roach? A roach would be part of her punishment for seeing Hassan?
The grinning faces looking down on her told Edy her answer. Face the roach. Smile at him. Her skin crawled in response.
Edy began the crawl, knee by careful knee, eyes averted, willing herself not to think as the space to her destination withered away. But then she looked.
God help her, the thing was ugly—ugly and unforgivably repulsive. With its rigid brown body and curled, pinched legs revealed, Edy found herself cringing, her body stiff and desperate.
She looked away again. She couldn’t help it. Having crawled so far that her head stood above the roach, Edy opted for the wall. She conjugated Spanish verbs in her head so as not to think about the carcass mere inches below her chin, sprawled so close to her hands. Voy, vas, va, vamos, vais, van. She organized possible NFL picks in order of her anticipated draft: Leonard Cummings, Brad Daniels, Wayne Chestnut, Xavier Wright, Andre Theobald… Finally, she glanced down and pressed a fist to her mouth.
She absolutely hated bugs.
The rest of the freshmen were standing on one leg. They stretched the other skyward, so that it was parallel with their body. They were expected to stay that way indefinitely. Faye, now on her knees, came to a stop near Edy.
“Faye Richardson, you are not quite close enough to our friend,” Tamela said cheerfully. “Do us a favor and lean forward.”
Edy shot a glance at her fellow freshman. She’d craned her neck back as if she’d hoped to sever it from her head via stretching. With Tamela’s words, the girl started panting. A tear streamed down her face. It made a lonely procession over her pale, rounded cheeks, before the rivers began. Edy couldn’t shake the notion that she was responsible for this. If she hadn’t caved and agreed to see Hassan, then they wouldn’t be facing the roach. Maybe they wouldn’t even be in the den that night.
“Faye,” Edy said, “please don’t cry. I know it’s my fault and all, but I’m sorry. Just… try to be strong. It might go harder for us if you cry.” Somehow, Edy had thought that would do the trick, but then Faye shuddered. She opened her mouth and a whimper emerged, as her bottom lip trembled.
“Don’t look at him,” Edy said. Then she messed up and looked herself, failing to follow her own advice. It was still there and still dead.
“Closer, ladies. You need to admire him,” Tamela said sweetly.
Christ.
Faye’s sobs broke like a dam. Then she began to gag.
Edy side-saddled over and grabbed her by the arm. She tilted her head so that her view of la cucaracha all but disappeared.
“You can do it,” Edy said, quietly, between them. “You’re a dancer. You fall and get hurt and get back up again. Your body gets battered and you persevere. You’re unbelievably talented. Do what it takes to have influence on this team, then change the way things operate.”
Faye peeked at her. “You think we could do that?” she whispered.
Edy nodded, then dropped back to her hands and knees when she noticed London looking. Faye followed her example.
“Phelps,” Tamela said. “You may rejoin the team. This evening you will regale us with stories of you and Hassan, since you are so unable to stay away. We want to know everything. How you met, when you first kissed
, when you knew it was true love.”
Edy drew up slow and cast a backwards worried glance at Faye, who was still on the floor. She wondered how long the girl would have to stay and whether she’d crack from the roach.
Edy didn’t want to tell the upperclassmen anything about her relationship with Hassan. It made her nervous as she tried to contemplate ways they could use the info against her. But how could they? She and Hassan were rock solid. They always had been. And she didn’t think they’d do something as malicious as spread rumors or otherwise meddle in her personal life. Tamela, in her own crazy way, wanted each of them to show that they would do anything for the team, that their commitment to LSU’s dance squad was real. As far as Edy was concerned, it didn’t matter whether she had to stand on one leg, stare at cockroaches, or confess her sins. She would do that and more to be a dancer.
It was that simple.
She knew Hassan would understand.
Chapter Seventeen
Hassan had smashed the first game, putting up massive yards and even scoring a touchdown in the first half. Granted, the single touchdown he’d scored had been the roughest one he’d ever earned given the strength of the guys he’d faced, but hell, he’d done it and had only a sore body plus a few bruises for his trouble.
He wasn’t a baby, he could handle the pain. Already, he looked forward to their second game against a cupcake opponent. The stats racked up there could be massive.
After his performance, Hassan’s teammates transformed overnight. He was still the newbie freshman subjected to the occasional prank, but they seemed to be slowing to a trickle and carried out more for the principle of the matter rather than reminding him that he was not yet one of them. Because he did feel part of the team and it had happened in an instance.
After the Virginia Tech game and visiting Edy, he and a bunch of guys headed over to the Zeta Kappa house where they got smashed and made a ruckus. Hassan got more fist bumps, slaps on the back, and cups of beer shoved into his hands than he’d ever had before. Through it all, he had a niggling sense of needing to talk to Edy again. He didn’t like the way they’d parted, with her all stiff and eyes downcast. Shortly after, he’d called her cell and got sent to voicemail While at the party, he texted her and got no response. He had no idea what was up with her, but he told himself it was nothing. She hardly ever answered the phone anyway. Her teammates demanded all of her time, all of her attention, and all of her energy, it seemed. Why would she answer the phone just because her boyfriend called? There were teammates to think of, he thought bitterly. Their wants had to come first.
Wrecked (Love Edy Book Three) Page 12
