Pass Protection (Quarterback Sneak Book 3)

by Natalie Brock

  Taking a deep breath, she turned back around and was stunned to see Matthew standing in front of her. “I…I thought you left,” she stuttered.

  “I did, but I feel bad. Look, I didn’t mean to be rude or dismissive. I was raised to treat women better than that. I’m in a bad mood but that’s no excuse to take it out on you.”

  Brittany stood up straighter and struck her defiant pose, the one she was most comfortable with. Leaning in, she put her hands on her hips and shot back. “Sure isn’t. So why did you? Why are you in a lousy mood?”

  Matthew shook his head slightly. “Nothing I want to talk about with you.”

  “More dismissiveness?” she asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

  He tried to smile, but it looked kind of fake. “Sorry,” he told her.

  Taking a step closer, she said, “If you’re really sorry, you can make it up to me by escorting me to the victory party.”

  Matthew sighed heavily and shook his head. “Why are you pushing so hard? You can have any guy you want.”

  “Maybe I don’t want just any guy.”

  “Okay, look.” He held his hands up and paused as if he were gathering his thoughts. “You seem like a nice enough girl, Brittany, but I’m not the right guy for you. You want a different kind of guy and—”

  “How do you know that? Maybe you’re exactly the kind of guy I want. And maybe I’m exactly the kind of girl you need.”

  “I’m not looking for any girl right now, and even if I were, I’m not going to compromise my values for you,” he said harshly, making Brittany flinch. “Not for anyone.” He softened his tone. “Look, how about we just agree to be friends?” He forced a smile.

  She sighed. “That’ll be hard, but—” She stopped mid-sentence when he raised his brows. She didn’t need to set herself up to get rejected again. “Okay, sure. But don’t blame me if hope springs eternal. You never know where friendship will lead.”

  “Brittany.” His tone sounded like a warning.

  She held up her palms in surrender. “Okay, okay.” She held out her hand to shake his and when he took it, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a glossy lip-print behind.

  He laughed and shook his head from side to side. “You’re something else, you know that? I gotta go. See you later.”

  »»•««

  Matthew’s voice echoed in Brittany’s ears as she walked toward Dos Naranjas, the team’s favorite watering hole just off campus. “You’re something else,” he’d said. What the hell did that mean? Was it a compliment or an insult? It was hard to tell.

  Forget him, she told herself. He made it abundantly clear he was not interested. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her from being interested in him. He was the first truly good guy she’d met since Philip, and she was finding the good ones to be really far and few between. In fact, there might never be another one and that right there was the reason Brittany pushed so hard. If he really, truly wasn’t interested, would he have come back and apologized? She shook herself as she approached the entrance. Stop it, girl. Stop obsessing. He’s a nice guy, so of course he felt bad for being rude. And the only reason he was being rude in the first place is because you were pushing too hard. Time to back off. Time to take his advice, go to the party, spend time with the team, leave your insecurities at the door, and just have a good time.

  Looking around the darkened bar as her eyes adjusted to the low light, she saw the same characters as usual. Looked like all the Barracudas guys and girls were there to celebrate their win. Most of them were gathered around the bar itself, three and four people deep. The bartender would be having a good night tonight.

  She started to approach the bar when she suddenly realized she wasn’t in the mood for a party, maybe because Matthew wasn’t in the mood, or maybe because he called her a party girl. If that was what people thought, it meant she was a really good actress. She’d barely had a date in two years while couples like Philip and Sara and Tony and Allison rode off into the sunset.

  Contrary to popular belief, she was alone. She was always alone. The times she did go on dates, she quickly learned the guys only wanted one thing from her—but she wasn’t putting out.

  Her phone buzzed, and for a second she imagined it might be Matt, but he didn’t even have her phone number. She pulled it out and the display was hard to read. She looked around and spotted an empty booth with a little lamp on the table and she quickly grabbed a seat. The message was from her mom who’d just played a word in their long-distance crossword game. She and her mom played the virtual crossword game back and forth all day long.

  If it weren’t for her parents, she’d be even more of a mess than she already was. Brittany looked at the game board and quickly played a new word. L.O.S.T. She put her phone away.

  Before she could get up from the table, Bennie slid into the seat next to her, trapping her in the booth.

  She wrinkled her nose when he put his arm around her, clasping her shoulder with those flabby fingers of his. Bennie was one of the team’s offensive linemen, a real bruiser, who was totally not her type. He appeared as wide as he was tall and had a short forehead with close-set eyes and a chubby face. Other than his face and stubby fingers, he wasn’t fat. Rather, he was thickset and muscular, but his behavior reminded Brittany of a basketball player she knew in high school and wished she could forget.

  Bennie was always coming on to her and she had no appreciation for it. Was this how she made Matthew feel? He was sitting too close and holding her a little too tightly. His breath smelled of beer and cigarettes, despite the team’s strong suggestion the athletes refrain from smoking. “Back off, Bennie.” She pushed on his chest and tried to get him to loosen his hold on her. In addition to his bad breath, he smelled like he hadn’t showered after the game. He was making her feel nauseous. Maybe if she threw up on him, he’d leave her alone for good.

  “Whatsamatter Britt’ny,” he slurred. He planted a wet kiss on her neck while she continued trying to push him off. “Let’s go back to my place.”

  “In your dreams.” While struggling to push him away, she looked around hoping someone would see that she could use some help, but no one was looking in her direction. Everyone was facing the bar and mostly focused on the TVs hanging from the wall behind it.

  “You got that right, baby. I got friends on the basketball team and they told me all about you, every detail.” He looked down her cleavage. “I got this picture of you in my head and I wanna see if the reality matches up with my dreams.” He laughed loudly at his joke.

  When he laughed, he inadvertently loosened his grasp on her. Thinking fast, Brittany slid from her seat onto the floor. She crouched down under the table, narrowly avoided hitting her head, and crawled out the other side. She quickly got off the floor and didn’t turn around. She just rushed away and ran toward some cheerleaders standing at the bar. She pushed her way into the crowd, hoping to block Bennie’s view. She figured he was so drunk he wouldn’t have the energy to come looking for her.

  She ran two fingers over her head to push the hair out of her face, blew out some air, and fanned herself. Her palms were dirty and sticky from being on her hands and knees. She looked down and saw the knees of her leggings were dirty as well. She wrinkled her nose. She needed a shower badly to get Bennie’s cooties off of her, along with the shmutz from the floor.

  “You okay Brit?” one of her friends asked.

  “Yeah, thanks Sofia, I’m okay. But I wouldn’t mind getting out of here, you know?” Looking at the group of girls she was with, she asked, “Who wants to ditch this popsicle stand and walk back to campus with me?”

  Chapter Three

  As soon as Brittany got home from the bar, she took a hot shower. She closed her eyes and let the steam dry-clean the odors of alcohol and cigarettes from her hair and nostrils. She tried to erase the image of Bennie too. She hated feeling trapped like that, and she hated feeling powerless. She fantasized being in that booth with Bennie and pushi
ng him away, when suddenly Matthew appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Bennie by collar. He pulled him out of that booth and punched him again and again, knocking him to the ground and leaving the lineman in a bloody heap. Brittany smiled as she squeezed the water from her hair before stepping out of the shower. She let that image—the image of being saved by Matthew—meld in her mind as she fell asleep, hoping that image would displace any nightmares that threatened.

  She was glad she’d be working the next morning. She was eager to get off campus and have something to take her mind off Bennie. And Matthew. The two men were opposite ends of the spectrum, but they occupied too much of her mind as she tossed and turned during the night.

  Brittany and two of her cheerleader friends had a car-share system. They owned a used car—an eight-year-old Volkswagen—and the deal was whoever drove it last had to fill it up with gas after every use so the next girl wouldn’t have to worry about running on empty. A couple days a week, Brittany needed the car to drive to her part-time job. Depending on her class schedule, she either worked mornings or afternoons, as well as the Sunday after a Saturday home game.

  She had a hard time waking up this morning. She had some scary nightmares and she blamed Bennie. His lewd behavior and the way he pawed at her were too close to that awful incident she was beginning to think she’d never get over. Still, she was proud of her evasive actions last night. The downside was Bennie was one of the Barracudas, so there was no way to completely avoid him, and reporting his actions was out of the question.

  She pulled the Volkswagen into the strip center off International Drive. This shopping center had seen better days. The grocery store that anchored the shopping center went out of business years ago and it was now one of those stores where everything costs a dollar. Brittany often bought shampoo, kitchen and bathroom supplies, crackers for the dorm, and bottled water there.

  When she entered the salon, her senses were immediately assaulted by the smells of peroxide and hairspray. It made her eyes water and she was sure if she worked there long enough, the caustic chemicals would eat away at her brain cells. Still, she really liked working in the salon. Salon Simone wasn’t a trendy place with snooty stylists and snobby customers. Most of the clientele at the salon were older ladies who’d been coming there for decades. The salon changed owners many times over, but the clients stayed loyal.

  What Brittany didn’t much like was sweeping up hair clippings and laundering the towels and capes, but she liked the people aspects of the job, like greeting customers, making appointments, and shampooing the old ladies’ hair. The women were always so complimentary. They told her how pretty she was and what a beautiful figure she had. They often said she reminded them of their younger selves. It was nice to hear, and a much-needed boost to her ego, especially after being rejected by cute guys like Philip and Matthew.

  She greeted the hairstylists when she walked in. A couple of them tended to be moody and she never knew if they were going to be friendly or not.

  In the supply nook, she slipped a smock over her T-shirt and jeans and returned to the front of the shop. She glanced at the appointment book. “Mrs. Friedman,” she called to the next customer. Brittany smiled warmly. The short, stocky woman with graying hair leaned on a three-pronged cane as she struggled to get up from her seat in the waiting area. Brittany approached Mrs. Friedman and helped pull her to her feet, grasping the loose skin on the older woman’s arm. Mrs. Friedman held on to Brittany as they slowly walked to the back of the salon. “How’s your day going, Mrs. Friedman?”

  The older woman plopped into a chair with a porcelain sink behind her. “I told you last time. Call me Myra. Mrs. Friedman makes me feel old, although I guess I am old enough to be your grandmother.”

  Myra came in every other Sunday morning to have her hair washed and styled. She was one of Brittany’s favorite customers. Brittany smiled and gently leaned Myra back in the chair and turned on the faucet. She tested the water temperature before running it over the woman’s hair. “Too hot?”

  “A little, but I like it hot.” She laughed at her own words. “You know I was pretty hot when I was young. Not as beautiful as you, of course.”

  “You’re still beautiful,” Brittany said sincerely. If she looked beyond the jowls and double chin, she could see that Myra was once very pretty. Even at seventy or so, the woman’s brown eyes still had a brightness to them, and her smile made Brittany feel good. Myra reminded Brittany of her favorite grandma—her mother’s mother who passed away when Brittany was in middle school. She loved listening to her grandma’s stories and she loved listening to Myra too. She pumped out a dollop of shampoo from the giant container behind the sink and massaged it into Myra’s hair.

  “How’s your boyfriend?” Myra asked.

  “Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Don’t you? I thought you did.”

  “Sadly, I don’t.” Brittany tried not to sound as sad as she felt when she admitted her boyfriendless status.

  “How is that possible with your figure? If I had a figure like that, I’d have had dozens of boyfriends.”

  “Oh, you know the story. The guys I like don’t like me,” she said truthfully.

  “Boys are stupid,” Myra blurted, making Brittany laugh. “Well they are. They were stupid in my day too.”

  She massaged Myra’s scalp and said, “I was hoping you’d tell me not to give up.”

  “Well of course you shouldn’t give up, honey. The right one will come along. I kissed a lot of frogs before Barry came along.” Brittany couldn’t help but chuckle. “We had a wonderful forty-six years together before he passed.”

  “So when do the guys stop being stupid?”

  “Around the time they turn forty,” Myra said with a laugh.

  Brittany laughed too. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She finished rinsing the shampoo out of Myra’s hair and pushed her seat up. She wrapped a towel around the lady’s head. “Donna styling your hair today?”

  “Same as always.”

  “I’ll walk you over.” Brittany helped Myra to her feet and handed her the cane. “Take your time.”

  “You take your time too, Brittany. Don’t be in a rush to have a boyfriend because all your friends have one. And don’t get married young either. Wait for the real thing. My Barry and me were married for forty-six years. Did you know that?”

  “No.” Brittany pretended it was the first time she heard it, even though Myra mentioned it almost every time she came in. “That’s quite an accomplishment. I hope I’m lucky enough to find someone so devoted someday.”

  Chapter Four

  Between school, cheer practice, homework, and working at the salon, Brittany’s days were pretty full. During practice, her gaze often wandered in Matthew’s direction at the opposite end of the field. She watched him throw the ball and wondered why they sidelined him in favor of Tony. Matthew was good, really good. Even on the field, he reminded her of Philip Mason with his confidence, leadership, short passes, and accurate throws. She’d heard people say he was great in practice, but he couldn’t make the transition to game conditions. Something told her that was just an excuse to justify benching him.

  Friday seemed to come around quickly, especially when she had to pack for an away game. Hard to believe it was already Week Four. Tomorrow’s game was in Miami and she wasn’t looking forward to the nearly four hour bus ride. Just gathering all the girls and getting going was a prolonged event. The only good part was being able to sleep on the bus. Not everyone could fall asleep on the bus, considering all the noise, but the motion of the vehicle and the hum of the motor lulled her to sleep. In fact, Brittany sometimes slept even better on the bus than she did at home. She figured it had something to do with feeling safer in a crowd than she did alone. She rarely had nightmares during those intervals when she napped on the bus.

  As they headed south on Interstate 95, she couldn’t help but think about Philip, knowing he played for Miami now. What she didn’t know was
whether his team was home or away this weekend. If they were playing at home, she figured there was a good chance he’d be attending his alma mater’s game while the Barracudas were in town. Maybe she’d see him. Sighing, she remembered it didn’t really matter. He was in a serious relationship and had probably forgotten Brittany ever existed.

  »»•««

  Brittany and Sofia settled into their motel room after a quick bite to eat. There was no such thing as a private hotel room. Everyone had to share—cheerleaders and football players alike. But it all worked out, because Sofia had become Brittany’s cheer squad BFF and her roommate on the road.

  Sofia was the daughter of a Hispanic mother and a black father, and she was stunning. She had a new boyfriend—always one of the athletes—every three or four months, as if there was an expiration date on the guys. She told Brittany she didn’t want to get too serious with anyone while she was in college. She was too young. Her mother had her when she was eighteen, and it seemed to Sofia that her mom had to give up so much to raise her children.

  Brittany marveled at Sofia’s seemingly effortless ability to snare every guy she went after. She told Brittany she merely latched onto her target after practice. He would usually say he had to go back to his room and she offered to accompany him. Well, the guy never said no, and the two of them typically didn’t leave the room the rest of the day. Funny how when Brittany tried a similar tactic with Matthew, it backfired. Since it worked for other girls, it must mean something was wrong with her. Now and then, she considered asking Sofia or Jamie for advice, but it was too embarrassing a subject, even between BFFs. At nearly twenty years old, she should know how to attract a guy she was interested in. Hmm. Maybe she would get a book on the subject. There were probably thousands.

  Brittany loved and admired Sofia. She was one of the few girls on the squad Brittany truly trusted. She wasn’t as close with Sofia as she was with Jamie, but she knew Sofia had her back—something she couldn’t say about everyone. The other girls on the squad were nice enough and they all got along most of the time, but as with any large group of people who spent a lot of time together, they sometimes got on each other’s nerves. Brittany worked to stay above the fray. She’d experienced enough drama in high school to last a lifetime.