Next Man Up (Making the Score Football Romance Book 2)

by Tawdra Kandle

  All of those memories made me wonder why I’d made the effort to come over to this party tonight. I had twinges of regret even as I’d waited for the U-Van to pick me up, but by then, it was too late. I’d left my dorm room, and I was committed.

  I had the driver drop me off on the corner, at the far end of the block of fraternity houses. The last thing I needed was the humiliation of having throngs of drunk college kids witness me rolling down the ramp from the van. No, thanks, I didn’t mind having to wheel myself a little further in order to avoid that particular shit show.

  Happily, the house where the party was being held was accessible and the front porch was almost empty. I was able to quickly get up the ramp and into the main room without any issues.

  Theta Lambda house, on the other hand, was more than crowded. It was teeming with people, and that was the one thing I hadn’t thought about when I’d decided to come. After I inched through the huge living room, it was almost impossible to maneuver my chair down the hall, let alone to turn into any room.

  I settled for rolling into the kitchen, which was a straight shot from the door. I couldn’t get very far in, because a bunch of girls were standing around the table, giggling as they attempted to pour shots.

  One of them was vaguely familiar, and I realized she must’ve gone to high school with me. I glanced over my shoulder to see if there was any way I could ease back out before anyone noticed me, but another surge of humanity had filled the corridor. There wasn’t any way to move forward or backward.

  I was stuck. Shit.

  “Heyyyyyyy.” The girl I’d recognized turned around, and now her bleary eyes were focused on me. “I know you. Didn’t you used to be Eli Tucker?”

  Irritation, mixed with frustration over being boxed in, boiled up into rage. “Didn’t you used to be a fucking slut? Oh, wait. Looks like you still are.”

  She frowned at me, but it didn’t take incredible powers of observation to see that she was too wasted to figure out that I’d insulted her. One of her friends, however, must not have been that far gone, because she slammed down the beer bottle she was holding and glowered at me.

  “You fucking dick—”

  “Oh, there you are, Eli.” Suddenly, there was soft, cool hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I wondered where you’d gone. This place is a zoo, isn’t it?”

  Zelda Porter was standing next to me, touching me, talking to me as if we were here together, and I felt like maybe I’d accidentally huffed something strong, because nothing else made sense.

  “He just called my friend a slut!” Outraged girl wasn’t ready to back down.

  “You probably misunderstood him. Eli wouldn’t do that. It’s so loud in here, I don’t know how anyone can hear anything.” Zelda neatly insinuated herself between my legs and the table, blocking me from the view of the rest of the room, facing me. She rested her hands on the arms of my chair and gazed into my eyes. “Like I said, this place is a zoo. Let’s not taunt the animals, shall we?”

  Her voice was low, clearly meant only for my ears, but I was distracted by the way her dress gapped at the neckline, giving me a mind-numbing view of those beautiful tits. I couldn’t answer her for minute. Christ, I couldn’t swallow or breathe.

  I was also pretty sure I’d somehow stumbled into an alternate universe, because Zelda Porter, who barely gave me the time of day, who had never spared me more than a passing glance and who hadn’t really spoken to me aside from our little interchange earlier tonight, was gazing at me like we were best friends. Or more.

  My face must’ve shown my shock and confusion. Zelda winked at me, an understanding smile playing around her lips. “I’m sick of this whole thing. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

  I managed a nod, and she straightened, sidestepping until I had enough room to turn around. Zelda walked ahead of me, which was awesome for two reasons. One, she cleared a path for me to get through the hall. And two, it gave me a perfect excuse to stare at her exquisitely rounded ass as she moved.

  God, I had a massive hard on. Great.

  Keeping my eyes on that sweet booty, I rolled through the parted crowd until we reached the doorway. Zelda paused, glancing over her shoulder to make sure I was still there. She stepped aside as I sped up a little to make it over the threshold to the porch, but I noticed that she didn’t lean toward me to help, and I was grateful for that. Most people couldn’t resist.

  “How the hell did you get here, anyway?” She cocked her head and studied me, mild interest in her gaze. “I’m assuming you didn’t roll all the way to Greek row from Liddleton.”

  “The U-Van. It’s how Nate and I get anywhere further than a block away.” I turned toward the ramp, wondering if Zelda would follow but unwilling to give her the satisfaction of glancing backwards.

  “That’s right. I forgot about that.” She maneuvered ahead of me neatly so that when I hit the bottom of the ramp, I had to stop abruptly to avoid knocking her down. “But you’re in luck. I have a car, and I’ll drive you back.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll call the van.” I reached for my phone. “Go back in and enjoy the party. I appreciate you helping me get out of there, but I’m fine.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m heading back now, anyway. My car’s right over here in the lot.” She paused. “If it’ll make you feel better, I can drop you off behind the dorm and you can go in by yourself, so no one sees you with me.”

  I scowled up into her face, searching for a trace of irony or hurt. But she was expressionless, watching me, waiting.

  “Why wouldn’t I want to be seen with you?” I pivoted. “Why would you say that?”

  “Oh, come on, Eli. Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot. I know what people say, and I know what they think of me. Just because I don’t care doesn’t mean I don’t hear the whispers. I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting anyone to think you’d been with me tonight.”

  “That’s not it. I don’t give a rat’s ass about what others might think. Actually, you could only make me look better, right? The pathetic dude in the wheelchair is getting lucky. Then again, we’re probably both safe, since no one would believe that happened.”

  “Which means you should stop stalling and just let me drive you back.” She rubbed the back of her neck, like it might be stiff, and sighed. “I’m tired, and I want to be in my own room. Let’s go.”

  Zelda began walking away from me into the darkness. I considered being stubborn and refusing her offer again, but I had a feeling that in the long run, she was going to get her way. I might as well give in now and reap the benefit of riding in her car. This time of night, on a Saturday, the U-Van wouldn’t get to me for at least an hour. I had no desire to sit out here and wait for it.

  My wheels crunched over the gravel. This wasn’t exactly easy-going, and silently I thanked my physical therapists for coercing me into all the upper body strength work I’d continued doing even after I’d been officially dismissed from therapy. That training meant that I was able to move myself across tougher terrain that I might have been otherwise able to do.

  Strangely, I realized that I had no idea what Zelda drove. I’d never seen her car before now. I guessed it wasn’t so odd; we hadn’t been friends over this last year, just . . . friends of friends. Friends-in-law. But now that she was actually talking to me and making me feel like she saw me as a real person, it seemed we should’ve known more about each other, after living in the same community for nine months.

  I fully expected her to have a sleek little sports car, something gorgeous and built for sin, just like she was. But when she stopped and unlocked the driver’s side door, it was of a sensible mini-SUV in a very boring beige.

  “Do you drive your mom’s car?” I blurted out the question before I thought about it.

  Zelda glanced at me and snorted. “Hardly. This is mine. It’s hybrid, it’s reliable, and it gets amazing mileage. Plus, the insurance is better than it would be on something flashier.” She lifted one shoulder. “I supposed
you thought I drove . . . what, a Corvette? A Porsche? Something red and low to the ground? Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I just . . . it seems like a, um, very smart kind of car. Sensible.”

  “It’s sensible enough that you should be able to maneuver into the passenger seat, and I can stow your chair in the back.” She skirted the back of the car and pointed to the door. “Can you open that wide enough to get in, or would you like me to give you a hand?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to shoot her a suggestive comeback, but I buttoned my lip, because with Zelda, I just wasn’t sure how she’d respond. She was as unpredictable as a wild tiger, I thought . . . and possibly just as dangerous.

  “I think I can do it, if you don’t mind dealing with the chair. Haven’t quite mastered the ability to fold it up once I’m actually in the car.” I spoke wryly, hoping she could hear the underlying truce in my words. I might have been a grumpy, short-tempered son of a bitch, but I knew that Zelda had done me a favor, both inside at the party and by offering to drive me back to the dorm. I wasn’t going to screw that up.

  “Yep.” Zelda stood by, and I was acutely aware that she was watching me as I opened the door and then wheeled myself as close as I could to the seat, angling my chair in the exact position, just as I’d been taught. Reaching down, I locked the wheels and deftly lifted my legs from the footrests. There wasn’t any graceful way to do the next part; it either worked or it didn’t, and every time I had to transfer to a car that was new to me was a total crapshoot.

  Tonight, at least in this moment, luck was on my side. I braced my hands just right and moved in the way I needed to, and there I was, exactly where I planned to land. The only thing I had to do now was drag my legs in with me. Once they were settled, I reached for the door and slammed it shut.

  Zelda was looking at me through the window, and I didn’t miss the slight incline of her head, the small nod that acknowledged I’d done this right. I realized too late that I should’ve kept the door open long enough to show her how to fold the chair.

  I shouldn’t have worried. She leaned down and examined the hinge mechanism for a few seconds before gripping it in the exact right spot. The wheelchair collapsed into its flattened form, and with admirable ease, Zelda opened the rear passenger door and hoisted it into the space behind me.

  I watched out of the side of my eyes as she climbed into the driver’s seat, and I didn’t miss the play of her leg muscles when she shifted out of park and stepped on the brake. I took in the way the seatbelt thrust her boobs into prominence. And I appreciated the grace of the entire package—how she adjusted her stance and turned her head, her eyes alert and serious.

  Zelda Porter was a total babe. I’d been trying to ignore this fact all year, but now that we were about to finish for the summer, I allowed myself the pleasure of admitting this, of admiring her. Once upon a time, I thought, we would’ve been the golden couple: the football star and the chick with super model looks and genius-level intelligence. We would’ve been the pair everyone else at Birch loved to hate, because we were just that gorgeous and lucky.

  “Why did you come out tonight?”

  Her question jerked me out of my brooding, and I glanced at her in surprise.

  “I was bored.” Clearing my throat, I added, “I didn’t want to go to the bar. That kind of place, with all those people, is a nightmare for me.”

  “But going to a crowded party at a frat house seemed like a good idea?” She sounded amused and slightly skeptical.

  “No. But it sounded . . . manageable.” I rubbed the palm of my hand down my denim-covered thigh. “I’ve been a hermit this year.”

  “Hmmmm.” Zelda’s eyebrow quirked up. “Why?”

  This was one question I’d spent a lot of time considering. “Maybe because it was familiar. Maybe because it was safe. Maybe because it was . . . penance.” I lifted a shoulder. “Who knows?”

  “Penance?” This thought seemed to intrigue her, as one delicate pale eyebrow lifted. She smirked. “Tell me, Eli, just what do you have to be penitent about?”

  “Eh.” I coughed a little and stared out the window. Zelda drove through campus slowly, probably mindful of the security out in full force tonight. “Uh, I was kind of a dick in high school.”

  She laughed. “Weren’t we all? That doesn’t seem like a reason to punish yourself now.”

  “Maybe penance isn’t the right word. Reformation might be a better way of saying it. I’m a reformed dick, and that’s why I avoid fun.”

  “Because fun brings out your inner dickness?”

  I exhaled and closed my eyes, dropping my head against the headrest. “It’s possible that I’m afraid of a relapse into dickness. That if I let myself get into . . .certain situations, I might fall back into bad habits.” I opened one eye and glanced at Zelda. “And I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Sorry for the info dump.”

  One side of her mouth crooked up. “Sometimes it’s easier to share stuff like this with a stranger. Or with someone who’s practically a stranger, anyway.”

  The idea that she thought of us that way somehow pissed me off. “We’re not strangers. Are we? We’ve known each other since last fall.”

  “Have we? You and I haven’t had a legit conversation until now. We’ve barely said a dozen words to each other since August.”

  She was right, of course, but perversely, I wanted to argue. “But you know who I am, and I know who you are.” I curled my fingers around the edge of the seat. “You stepped in tonight to save me from a potentially ugly scene. You acted like you knew me back at the frat house.”

  “I . . .” She frowned into the darkness, not looking at me. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I would’ve done the same for anyone I knew.”

  “Aha!” I grinned in triumph. “So you admit you do know me. I’m not a stranger.”

  “Oh, God, you’re a pain in the ass.” Zelda cast her eyes upward. “I guess it depends on how you define knowing someone. There’re lots of people who probably say they know me.” She shot me an arch look filled with that special brand of Zelda self-deprecation. “And many of them do, in the so-called biblical sense, at least. But very, very few people really know me. I’m selective about the people I let into my life.”

  “I’m not one of those, huh?” I tried to play it off like I was pretending to be wounded, but the truth did hurt.

  “You’re on the periphery. Closer than some. But not in the inner circle, sadly.”

  I watched her profile, the way her eyes never left the road in front of us. “You don’t like me, do you? When we first met, back at the beginning of the school year, I almost thought . . .” I stopped speaking abruptly, trying to figure out what I wanted to say. How much I wanted to reveal. “Uh, I thought maybe we’d hooked up before. You seemed familiar.”

  She gave a brittle laugh. “Speaking of being a dick . . . you had so many hookups, you think you might not remember them all? Recognize them all?” On the steering wheel, her little finger twitched.

  “Not only do I think it, I know it. But I couldn’t think of how that could be, with you and me. I’ve never been to Lancaster.”

  “It does seem unlikely, doesn’t it?” Her shoulders tensed. I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been staring at her.

  “But still, you don’t like me. And I can’t figure out why.”

  “Maybe we’re just like oil and water. Two things never meant to mix. Don’t you ever find that you don’t click with some people? That’s how it is with us. You’re always grumping around, snapping at people, and I’m fucking every male in sight.” She slid a fleeting glance my way. “Maybe you resent the fact that I’m living the lifestyle you used to love.”

  I ignored that last jibe. “The thing is, though, Zelda . . . I could be wrong, but I think we would click, if we gave each other a chance. You were a decent person tonight. Hell, you were more than decent—you went out of your way to help me. I t
hink if you let down your guard a little—and maybe if I wasn’t—what did you call me? A grump? Maybe we’d find out we have more in common than we think.”

  For a few seconds, Zelda didn’t answer. When she finally spoke, it was on a long sigh. “Stranger things, I guess.” She turned the car into the parking lot adjacent to Liddleton and came to a stop in front of the main doors, lining up my side of the car with the edge of the ramp. “Here you are, Cinderella, safely home before midnight.”

  I didn’t reach for the door handle, but I noticed that Zelda didn’t, either. This was the awkward part of my life—or rather, one of many awkward parts. Sometimes people tended to forget that I couldn’t just hop out of the car and close the door behind me. No matter how independent I claimed to be, there were some things that I just couldn’t manage on my own, and retrieving my chair to unfold it was one of those things. I hated that I had to ask for help. Hated it worse than almost any other aspect of my new life.

  And maybe it was that bubbling resentment that was to blame for what happened next. Zelda began to move the gearshift into park, but without me thinking about it or considering what I was doing, I reached over and covered her hand with mine, stopping her.

  “Wait.”

  It was one syllable, one word, but it ignited a flare of surprise in her huge blue eyes. She cocked her head.

  “Why?”

  I fidgeted in the seat. “Come inside with me. It’s early, and I didn’t plan on being back here this soon. I’m going to guess you didn’t plan to sit alone in your room tonight, either.”

  She regarded me steadily. No hint of what she was thinking played out across that perfect face, but still, somehow, I knew she was considering what I’d suggested. Her brain was weighing the pros and the cons, and in a second, she’d give me an answer.

  “No,” she replied finally. “Actually, I didn’t plan to be home alone in my room tonight. I fully intended to spend the evening at the bar with Quinn and Gia and Nate—at least until I found someone to hook up with. But it wasn’t my scene, and to be honest, Nate and Gia were both driving me crazy. So I bailed, and then on my way back here, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check out the Greek parties. Someone had texted me about Theta Lambda. I went in to see if there was anything fun happening . . . and you know what happened next.”