by J. L. Beck
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Evan says.
He grabs his bag off the bench as I slip into my t-shirt and jeans. The fact I still have to practice even though I’m not playing sucks donkey balls.
“I’m not different. I mean, not really.”
“You’re totally different. We’ve lost our wingman. You used to get us all the pussy, and now I’ve got to rely on Evan to help me get the ladies,” Murphy leans over and whispers as if he’s telling me a secret. “And let me tell you, Evan doesn’t bring the ladies in. In fact, I think he might be the reason I have none at the moment.”
Evan glowers. “You’re an asshole, Murphy.”
“Better than a whole ass,” Murphy taunts.
“You’re stupid, that’s why you can’t get the ladies,” Evan replies and steps closer to me. “I thought you were just messing around with Blair, that she was a bet? Being a couple sounds like a lot more than that.”
Like a bucket of ice water raining down on me, I freeze. The bet. I had forgotten all about it until this very moment.
“I called it off a while ago, didn’t Murphy tell you?”
His steely gaze shifts to Murphy and then back to me. “He didn’t tell me shit. Too bad you didn’t keep that bet, could’ve won, now we get to make fun of you forever.”
“That’s fine. It’s worth it.” I grin.
I’m feeling like a million fucking bucks. Nothing can bring me down. As soon as I think the words, my phone starts to go off. I tug it out of my pocket and sigh when I see the name flashing across the screen.
“Gotta go. See you at the house, Murphy,” I tell them, grab my bag, and walk out the locker room door.
I hit the green answer key on my way out to my truck. I’ve been dreading having this conversation since I found out I was going to be suspended from the game this weekend.
“Dad–”
“You got balls of steel, either that or you’re dumb? Which is it, boy?” I grit my teeth.
All my life he’s done this. Told me I was stupid, belittled me, said I would never amount to anything. Even when I first started playing pee wee football, he reminded me that I could always do better. Nothing was good enough for him, and to this day, still isn’t.
“What’s up?” I decide to play dumb.
“What’s up? Are you fucking kidding me? You got suspended from the game this weekend. What the fuck is going on with you? Do you even care? I’m going to assume not, and fighting? I should come down there and kick your ass. You’re ruining your chances at going pro.”
“Ruining my chances?” I scoff. More like ruining his. I’m past fed up with my father. I’m in uncharted territory now. Descending into dangerous waters.
“Don’t act like you don’t care. Football is your one chance at stardom. The only thing you have going for you.”
I almost choke on my saliva. “Did you really just call to lecture me?”
“You’ve been ignoring my phone calls. I think I should come pay you a visit and show you what happens when you disobey me. How do you think you got all the nice shit you have? The truck and condo? Who do you think pays for your classes?”
My dead mother. I don’t say the words, but I really want to. If it wasn’t for my mother dying and her insurance policy, we’d have none of these things. I’d give it all back in a heartbeat if I could—if it meant that she was alive and healthy. If she was still here.
“I’m not going to fight with you. I’m tired and just got done with practice.” I start the truck up and throw her into reverse, slowly backing out of the parking spot.
“At least you’re still going to practice. Who did you punch? And why? You need to explain yourself.” When I don’t say anything, he continues, “It was a girl, wasn’t it? Fighting over pussy. It’s that, isn’t it?”
My father and Blair, in the same sentence, doesn’t sit well with me.
Furious, I growl into the phone. “I don’t have to explain shit. I’m an adult, and I don’t answer to you. Next time you call, maybe you can pretend like you give a shit about me and not just call to bitch about football.”
Hanging up the phone, I drop it into the cup holder. I squeeze the steering wheel, picturing it as my father’s throat. My blood is boiling, and I want to punch something, make someone bleed. Forcing myself to think about anything but the man who is supposed to be my father, my thoughts shift to Blair. In my mind, I see her brown hair, button nose, her heart-shaped face, and pink lips tipped up in a smile. The mere thought of her calms me.
The drive to the condo is a short one, and I’m calmer when I arrive. I don’t want my father’s asshole ways to ruin my night with Blair, so I shove that shit down, lock it up, and throw away the key.
She is the only thing that matters to me right now. If I didn’t have practice, I would’ve been at the house earlier, but just because I can’t play in this weekend’s game, doesn’t mean I can skip practice. Since I couldn’t take her home, I offered to let her use my truck, but she refused and had her friend, Jude, take her back to my place instead.
Murphy most likely won’t be home tonight, and if he does come back, it won’t be till late, which means, Nerd and I have the entire house to ourselves. Fuck, we could have sex all night. In the kitchen, living room, shower… I could fuck her on every piece of furniture.
Slow down, caveman.
Opening the front door, I’m surprised and stop mid-step when I find Blair sitting at the breakfast bar on a stool in the kitchen. Of course, she has her books scattered around her. I wonder if she’s ever taken a day where she didn’t study or do homework?
“Hey, you!” She beams, and the organ in my chest starts to throb, right along with the other organ between my legs. I swear I’ve been hard for her all day. It’s like I have a permanent boner or something. I should probably get it looked at, but the only thing I want to do is be between her legs and beside her.
“Hey,” I greet with a wolfish grin.
Closing the front door behind me, I walk over to her. Moving her chestnut locks off her shoulder, I press my lips to the sensitive flesh right below her ear. No, we haven’t been intimate long, but I’ve come to understand Blair’s body. I’ve watched her enough, seen her reactions to my touch, and I know exactly what it takes to get her wet.
“I was thinking…” Another open-mouthed kiss. “Maybe we can do…” And another. “Pizza and a movie…” My lips find her throbbing pulse, and I suck on the spot until she lets out a light mewl and shifts, turning around on the stool to face me.
“And…” Her voice is low, sure, and this time, I stop sucking on her flesh and nip at it with my teeth before pulling away.
The softest of whimpers escape her, and the sound has a direct line to my cock, which grows harder with each second.
“Who said there was more?” I wink, loving the light banter that takes place between us.
Everything with Blair is easy, being with her, letting my walls down. It’s natural, like it was always meant to be this way. And to think we started out as enemies.
“Maybe you didn’t, but the growing rod between your legs did.” She gestures to my cock, which is jutting out in my sweatpants like a goddamn skyscraper.
“Fucking traitor. I swear to God, he can never keep his head out of my business,” I joke.
“You mean my business, though, right? Because he goes inside of me.” Blair plays along, and we both let out a laugh.
It’s tempting to push her face down on the couch and own her body, giving us both what we need, but I don’t want her to assume that I only want sex. I want so much more than that, sex is merely a bonus.
“You pick the movie, and I’ll order the pizza. Then we can see where the night goes.” I wiggle my eyebrows, knowing good and well that I’m sinking deep inside her later.
“Why do you get the easy job?” She gives me a fake pout and starts to stack her books into a neat pile.
I’m a little obsessed. I know this, and Evan was right, I’v
e never been like this, especially not about a girl, but there’s something about her, something that is unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. She doesn’t get caught up in my football image. She doesn’t care about money or fame or my friends. She’s with me because she wants to be, not because of what I can offer her.
After I finish ordering Blair her favorite, a veggies lover, and a sausage and mushroom pizza for myself, I meet her over at the sectional.
Like a boss, she is scrolling through the Netflix recommendations.
Slinging an arm over her shoulder, I pull her into my side, needing her closer.
Turning, she looks up at me. “I never thought I would be dating the guy I poured a beer on.”
“Same, except I never thought I would be dating the chick who legit hated my guts.”
“I didn’t hate your guts. I was just…” she looks away, and I want to kick myself in the face. “I’m insecure and wrapped up with worry that someday I’ll become my mom. That’s not your fault.”
“Stop, you don’t have to explain yourself.” And really, she doesn’t. “You’ve told me why you are the way you are, and I understand. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is anyone else.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose and hope that my words are reassuring enough.
We haven’t talked about the fact that I’m basically living someone else’s dream since I confessed the truth. Blair knows the real me, sees through the mask I wear daily. Part of me wonders if she would ever push me to do what I want, to quit football.
Helping to push her out of her comfort zone was the best decision I ever made. I could never be as courageous as her though. I’m a fraud, forced to live a lie. Football is all I have, and my father would murder me if I even showed an ounce of interest in something else.
And while I don’t let the prick dictate my life, I do value living.
Nodding her head, everything falls back into place, and I shove my thoughts away, focusing on the present instead of an unattainable dream.
Together we choose something to watch and are just getting into the first episode when the doorbell rings.
“Pizza!” I exclaim and disconnect from Blair.
She rolls her eyes as I rush toward the door, pulling out my wallet in the process. Opening the door, I find the pizza delivery guy standing there with our two pizzas. He doesn’t smile and almost seems annoyed as we exchange money and pizzas.
“Thanks,” I tell him and slam the door closed.
Walking into the kitchen, I set the two pizzas down and get out the plates. Blair gets up and walks into the kitchen, her feet barely make any noise against the tile. When I look up from dishing out the pizza, I find her standing close by looking down at her phone.
She frowns before slipping the device back into her pocket.
“What’s up?” I ask before shoving a piece of greasy goodness into my mouth.
Blair chews on her bottom lip in contemplation. “Nothing. Just my brother. He wants to come and visit. Apparently, my mom got back with an ex, and there is tension.”
She’s shared so much with me, and I know if I want this to work out, for us to grow closer, I’ll have to tell her about my mom, but I’m just not ready yet.
“He can come hang out with us for a weekend if you want?” I offer, and that makes her smile. Holy hell, I love when she smiles at me.
“You would be okay with that? Him coming here and hanging out with us?”
I nod. “Of course, it would give me a chance to get to know him and to introduce myself as your boyfriend.”
“I should’ve known it had nothing to do with being sweet and everything to do with giving your ego a boost.” She playfully slaps me, and I shove another piece of pizza past my lips before walking to the fridge for a bottle of water.
“You know how it is, sweetheart. You’re either stroking my ego, or my…”
“Do not finish that sentence or so help me god.” Blair narrows her eyes, but I can see the flicks of mischief in her eyes.
“Heart.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”
“You’re the worst.” She snickers.
“Maybe, but you definitely don’t think that when I’m between your legs.”
“Oh, god. Seriously, shut up.” Her cheeks turn crimson, and she walks back to the couch with her plate.
“That’s exactly what you say, oh god… yes… more please…”
“Cage!” she growls, and I let out a laugh.
I grab my own plate and head to the couch. I’m almost in the living room when there is a pounding on the front door. It’s urgent and insistent, and I have no fucking clue who it could be. The sound echoes through the space, and I glance over at Blair.
Worry riddles her features. The knocking continues, and I set my plate down and walk over to the door. Looking through the peephole, I’m shocked to find my father on the other side of the door. An angry scowl on his face. He raises his hand once more to knock, and I unlock the door, pulling it open.
The blood in my veins turns to lava.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I growl.
“This is my fucking house, isn’t it?” he snarls and takes a step to move inside.
He smells like a damn distillery, and as I glance over my shoulder at Blair, a bad feeling starts to fester in my gut. I don’t want him here, but more than anything, I don’t want Blair to meet him. He isn’t worthy of her presence. Hell, he isn’t even worthy of mine.
“What’re you fucking hiding in there?” My father decides to shove past me and enters the house on a stumble.
Blair’s audible gasp fills the space, and I turn to face him, refusing to look at her. I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes.
“Is this the fucking bitch that got you suspended from the team?” His eyes ping pong between us, and I harden my gaze, not wanting him to know that she matters to me.
“Can you please leave?” I gesture to the door.
Rage fills his once soft green eyes, eyes that my mother said I got from him. Looking at him now, I wonder if there was anything good about him.
“It is. I cannot fucking believe that you got into a fight over some pussy. I thought I raised you better than that.”
Snapping, I’ve had enough of him talking badly about Blair. He can say whatever he wants about me, but I refuse to let him bad-mouth her.
“Don’t talk about her like that. Now leave, please,” I grit the last word, forcing myself to say it, hoping he’ll take pity on me while knowing it won’t be that easy.
“I ain’t going nowhere, boy. It’s obvious you need a lesson in what’s really important here.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Blair’s expression turn panicked. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but don’t get the chance because my father fist comes out of nowhere.
His knuckles land like a boulder on my nose, and blood explodes everywhere as I stumble backward, barely catching myself. For an old man, he’s still got a good arm.
Pain radiates across the bridge of my nose, and I wince as I blink at the fucker, rage morphs into hate. There have been many times in my life when I thought I might hate my father, but after this moment, I am sure that I hate the man.
This was the last straw for me.
“I want her gone. Get her the fuck out of my house. You don’t need a woman. All she’s going to do is distract you from the big picture.” His words come out slurred, and he stumbles backward a bit.
My muscles are burning with rage, and I want so badly to hurt him, but I’m smart enough to know I wouldn’t stop at a single punch, and he’s not worth it. Not one bit.
Blair pushes up off the couch and starts moving as if she’s been given an order.
“She’s not leaving,” I sneer and turn to her. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Her little throat bobs and fear trickles into her baby blues. I can’t imagine what she is thinking right now. I had hoped this day would never come
“The only person leaving is you!” I
roar and take a determined step toward him, cutting off his sight of her. Like me, my father is a big man, but with the amount of whiskey I’m sure he’s consumed tonight, he’s nothing but an ant.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he growls, shoving at me as I push him backward, toward the door.
“The man you were supposed to be,” I grit through my teeth. “Leave, or I’m calling the police, and with the amount of alcohol in your veins, you’ll be on your third DUI.”
Those words seem to reach him in some way because he blinks as if realizing that I’m not joking and moves all on his own to the door.
“We’re not done, Cage. This better not happen again, or a punch to the nose will be the last thing you have to worry about. I’ll take it all, every single thing.” Like the drunk he is, he stumbles out the door, barely making it to his car.
If I cared, I’d call him an Uber, but I don’t care. I just want him gone.
Gone from my life, gone from fucking existence.
Slamming the front door closed, I click the lock into place. Leaning against the heavy wood, I breathe deeply. I feel like I’m on the verge of exploding. Rage bubbles up, growing closer and closer to the surface.
“Cage…” Blair’s sweet voice meets my ears.
I can’t face her. I can’t let her see me like this. I’m fucking broken right now. I want to hurt someone, lash out, make them feel my pain. She doesn’t need that, doesn’t need to see me like this.
“I’m not myself right now…” I growl in warning. I hate that my father ruined our night together and that she had to see him hit me.
Blair doesn’t care about what I say obviously since a second later, I feel her dainty hand on my bicep. Her touch burns through me, and I shatter like a glass, exploding everywhere.
“You’re Cage Wilder, and that’s all that matters to me.” Her words only encourage the need swirling deep in my stomach. Like always, my cock rises to attention. She’s all I have, all that is here. I’m a fucking bastard because right now, I want to fuck her hard and fast, take my anger out on her. Punish her for all the things that are wrong in my life.
“What do you need, Cage? I’m here for you. Do you want to talk about it?”
