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

by Tawdra Kandle

  “If you were going to say since I’ve been in a wheelchair, you’d be right. Actually, I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was in junior high.” A sly smirk spread over his face. “In the traditional sense of the word, I mean.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Quinn’s tone was dry. “But maybe it’s time to try something new and novel. A girlfriend might be just what you need now.” She slid me a side-eye. “I was having this same conversation with Zelda earlier. She told me I have to leave her alone and stop pushing her to try a relationship, and I promised I’d respect that. But you, Tuck—” She sent him a wicked smile. “You are fair game.”

  “Hey, why does Zel get a pass and I don’t?” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think that’s right.”

  “It’s a chick thing.” Nate nodded. “Sorry, Tuck. There are some things you just can’t fight, and this is one of them.”

  Our dessert and coffee arrived then. Unfortunately, the cannoli I’d been so excited to enjoy now didn’t appeal at all.

  “Hey, want some of this?” I nudged the plate toward Quinn. “I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”

  She frowned. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you turn down cannoli. Or even offer to share one.” She pretended to check me for fever. “Do you feel sick?”

  I batted her hand away. “Stop. I’m just not in the mood anymore.”

  Quinn studied me. “I’m sorry. Let’s get the checks so we can be ready to leave when Gia and Nate are finished with the desserts.” She lifted her hand to wave to our server.

  I was aware that Eli was staring at me, but I didn’t lift my eyes to meet his. Right now, I just wanted to get back to my room and crawl into bed. Alone.

  The broodiness that began at the end of our dinner that night lasted for the next week. I couldn’t seem to shake the restless feeling that I wasn’t happy anymore with my life as I knew it. I didn’t know what to change, though. Classes were going well, and I was looking forward to my summer internship. As much as I wasn’t excited about Matt being in New Jersey, I wasn’t unhappy about Gia and I moving into the apartment that we’d share with Quinn come the fall.

  I’d spoken to Grammy recently and regularly, so I knew everyone in Lancaster was fine. I wasn’t homesick.

  That left only one aspect of my life, but I really didn’t feel like dissecting my sex life or examining too closely why I’d been avoiding Eli since the night at Santori’s.

  I was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Grammy would say I was wallowing, and she would be right. My homework was done. The suite was empty because Gia had gone to a party, and Quinn had driven to the shore to spend the weekend with her mom. Nate and his family were going to be there, too; since Quinn would be down in Carolina this summer with Leo, she was trying to log some quality time with her mother—and Nate, too, I suspected—before she left town.

  My phone buzzed, and with a sigh that sounded suspiciously self-pitying, I flipped it over to read the screen.

  Eli: Hey, you busy?

  I hesitated before replying. I’d been almost expecting his text, both dreading it and afraid it wouldn’t come. For the past four months, every time one or the other of us had an empty room, we’d ended up together—in bed. With Nate away, Eli was alone.

  Finally, I typed out my response.

  Zelda: Not really.

  Eli: I’m working on my take-home essay for poli sci. It could use another set of eyes. Would you mind taking a look?

  I vacillated. I knew what Eli was asking; he was using the excuse of needing help with a paper to get me over to his dorm. I could play it one of two ways. I could pretend to think he only wanted a proofreader and suggest that he email me the essay . . . or I could cut the crap and just tell him I was heading over.

  Or not. I could do what I should’ve done months ago and just make a clean break. I could tell him that I didn’t have time to read his paper, because I was going out tonight. And then I could actually put on real clothes, instead of the yoga pants and tank I was currently wearing, and I could go out. I could find a willing guy and let him take me somewhere to fuck me senseless.

  That would be the smart thing to do. I knew Eli Tucker was the reason for my mood. I knew that I’d been playing with fire, having sex with him so much—while not having sex with any other guy. It was not my style, so it wasn’t any wonder that I’d begun to fall into the trap I’d warned Eli about. I was starting to equate sex with . . . emotion.

  I should shut this shit down fast.

  But I didn’t. I let the moments drag on, and when I finally tapped in my next answer, it had nothing to do with strength or making the smart move.

  Zelda: Sure. I’ll be over in ten.

  I waited in my room for a few minutes just to make sure Eli didn’t text that he didn’t want me to come, that he’d only needed a read-over that I could do from here. But he didn’t.

  Eli: I’ll be waiting.

  “Zel?”

  “Hmmm?” I opened my eyes part way and without lifting my head, craned my neck so that I could see Eli’s face. This was my second favorite part of sex with him . . . the moments where we both drowsed, spent and satisfied. The moments where I lay on him and forgot everything else other than the simple pleasure of being in his arms.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I felt one side of my lips curl up. “You’re going to ask it no matter what I say, so let’s skip right to the question. Go ahead.”

  His chest moved in a silent chuckle. “No, I wouldn’t ask if you told me that you were blissed out in post-orgasm afterglow, and I should shut up and leave you alone.”

  “That’s too many words, and it’s beside the point, because I already said to go ahead. But talk fast, because I can’t swear how long I’ll stay awake.”

  “What happened the other night at Santori’s?”

  Instantly, my glow began to ebb. “What do you mean?”

  “You seemed fine—you were fine—and then . . . you weren’t. You didn’t eat your cannoli. And you acted like you couldn’t wait to get out of there, and then this last week, you haven’t eaten lunch or dinner with the rest of us. I asked Quinn if you were sick, and she said no, you were just . . . quiet. I think she’s worried about you, too.”

  It was the too that got me. Quinn was worried about me, too, which implied that someone else was worried, and the only viable option was that Eli was worried about me. That made me perversely happy. For a girl who’d often wondered how much she was wanted, having someone care enough to be concerned was a big fucking deal.

  “I just—I don’t know. I wasn’t hungry.” It was a lame answer, and I knew it.

  “Huh. Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “What’s ‘okay’ supposed to mean?” I traced a ridge of muscle on his chest with the tip of my index finger. “You sound dubious.”

  “Ah, it’s just that—shit, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an arrogant son-of-a-bitch. But it felt like maybe you got quiet and lost your appetite after Cora came in.”

  I wished I were a good enough liar that I could laugh at that idea, that I could tell Eli convincingly that he was way off base. But I wasn’t, and I knew any denial would ring hollow.

  “Yeah, well . . . I didn’t like her.” Turning my head, I buried my nose in the crook of Eli’s neck and breathed deep. I loved the smell of him. I didn’t know what it was—his soap, I guessed, and some fragrance that was inherently his—but it made me both happy and peaceful.

  “How could you not like her?” He didn’t sound incredulous, just curious. “You only met her and saw her for about three minutes. What was there not to like?”

  “She’s too . . . perky. And petite.” I wrinkled my nose, even though I knew he couldn’t see me from where I lay. “Girls who are short and tiny like that—they make girls like me, who are tall, feel gangly. Like we’re all arms and legs. Like giants.”

  “Zel—you’ve got to be kidding.” Now Eli did sound in
credulous. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman on this entire campus, and you’re threatened by a little red-headed freshman? Please. I happen to know you have more self-confidence than that.”

  I sighed, my breath ruffling over his nipple and making him shiver. I wanted to do that again, just to see him react, but I couldn’t avoid answering his last statement.

  “You’ve never been a tall woman, bud. You don’t know how dainty girls make us feel.”

  “All right, I’ll concede to the fact that I’ve never been a woman of any type, tall or short. But I think it was something more than that.”

  “Hmmmmm. I can’t think of anything else it could be. I told you, I just don’t like perky. It makes me feel like I’m going into a diabetic coma.” I pretended to gag. “Ugh.”

  “She’s not that bad,” Eli protested mildly. “She’s just young.”

  “And she likes you.” I couldn’t stop that from coming out. “She was being all flirty and twirly and shit because she likes you and she wants you to ask her out.” I paused. “And maybe you should. Maybe it would be good for you to have a real girlfriend, Eli. You shouldn’t let me—this—” I tapped my finger on his chest and then pointed at myself. “It shouldn’t keep you from finding someone you like who could make a good girlfriend. Quinn was right about you. It’s time for you to have a regular girl in your life.”

  “Oh, yeah?” His arms tightened around me. “I have the only woman I want in my life already. And I’m perfectly happy with her and with how things are.”

  “Liar,” I murmured. “You’re not happy with how things are. You want more. Every time we’re alone together, you subtly push me for more. You think I don’t notice, but I do. But I was upfront with you, Eli. I told you what I was capable of and what I wasn’t. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “No one is saying anything like that.” His voice tightened. “Haven’t I followed every one of your rules and stipulations, Zelda? I haven’t told anyone about us. I treat you the same as I do Quinn and Gia. I don’t demand or expect anything from you. You can’t say I’ve gone back on my word in any way at all.”

  “I know.” I closed my eyes again. “I know all that. But I also know that if I said to you tonight, hey, let’s announce our relationship to the world and be out in the open about it—let’s be exclusive—you’d leap at the idea. You want the girlfriend experience now. Maybe you didn’t five years ago, but now you do. Admit it.”

  “I won’t, because it’s not true.” Eli’s fingers drew small circles on my back, where his hands rested near my spine. “I don’t want the experience.” He was silent for a few beats before he added, “It’s not the experience I want. It’s the girl. The woman. It’s you.”

  I lay very still, my heart thudding, and wondered how to reply to that. I was trying to figure it out when he went on, his voice softer this time.

  “And the hell of it is, Zel, I think you want the same thing, only you’re too damn stubborn to admit it. That’s why you were so upset the other night. It was because Cora made a fuss over me. She flirted, she touched me—and it was driving you fucking crazy, wasn’t it? It made you insane to think that maybe I was going to fall for her—for the annoying red-head—when you know the truth is that I belong to you.”

  I wanted to deny it, but I wasn’t going to lie. “I didn’t like it. The way she just—put her hands on you. Like you were some piece of meat. Or a really nice new Betsey Johnson purse.”

  This time when he laughed, it wasn’t silent. “I’m not sure I appreciate being compared to a handbag, but okay. So you didn’t like Cora touching me. That’s a start.”

  “And I didn’t like that she made me feel that way. I don’t like being . . . jealous.” I sniffed. “Especially when I don’t have any right to be jealous. Not of you. We don’t work that way. So I was mad at her and mad at myself. I didn’t want to care, but I did. And I hate it.”

  “Zel.” He stroked my hair, playing with the ends. “You have every right to be jealous. If this—what we just did together—doesn’t give you the right to be possessive, then I don’t know what does. Even if we don’t have a big, formal commitment—you can trust that I don’t see myself as available. I played along that night, because you told me you want the others not to suspect anything, but that doesn’t mean my feelings have changed. They haven’t.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wished like hell that I was the kind of girl who could sigh happily and tell Eli that I had feelings for him, too. Then we’d share a kiss full of meaning and live happily-ever-after.

  But I wasn’t that girl, and pretending that I could be would only make both of us miserable.

  “I’m not breaking our deal or changing our arrangement. You don’t have to run away so you can prove that you don’t need me, Zelda. You can stay right here. I won’t pressure you or try to force you into something you don’t think you want.” He used two fingers to tip up my chin, crunching a bit so that he could see my face. “But I’m not going to pretend that I don’t feel something. When it’s just the two of us here, Zel, all bets are off. I won’t coerce you into admitting this is more than just sex, but I’m going to show you—” He ran his hand down my back and caressed my backside. “—and tell you how much you mean to me, every chance I get. I promised to play by your rules, baby, but I never promised to play fair.”

  I smiled, in spite of myself, even as his words sent a niggle of worry through my chest. “You know I only have the rules because I don’t want you to get hurt. You have a tendency to think that I’m capable of much more than I really am, Eli. I’m only trying to protect you.”

  “But what if I don’t want to be safe? What if I want you and everything that goes along with you? What if I told you I was ready to jump without a net—because I have that much faith in you, even if you don’t?”

  My heart beat a little bit faster, in both anticipation and dread. “I’d say you’re taking a bigger risk than you can imagine, when it comes to me.”

  Eli pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

  “Then I’d say . . . game on.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tuck

  In the aftermath of my injury on the football field during my senior year, I’d had way too much time to think about how my life was changed forever. There were the obvious adjustments—things like not being able to walk, having to learn to use a wheelchair and to move my body using only my arms and shoulders, along with my core strength.

  Then there were the aspects of paralysis that came as a sort of nasty surprise. The way people didn’t quite look me in the eye anymore, for instance. The fact that my friends, the ones I had thought would stick by me no matter what—the ones who had hung out at the hospital when no one was sure what was going to happen to me—had drifted slowly away when it became clear that I was going to live—but not in the same way I had before.

  But what I’d been most depressed about in those days of adjustment and recovery was the idea that I might never have sex again. Or if I did, it would be awkward and almost clinical. I’d never have that kind of joyous, impetuous, spontaneous sex that I’d enjoyed for three wild years.

  And then came Zelda.

  If I hadn’t been sure that my feelings for her ran deeper than just our physical connection, I might’ve felt guilty about using her for sex. But I was sure. I’d thought about it long and hard—no pun intended—and I’d tried to imagine how I’d feel if I found out I could never fuck Zelda again. That wasn’t a fun idea, but to my shock, it was a lot more acceptable than the thought of not being able to just be with her ever again. I realized that hanging out with Zelda, talking with her about the most boring, mundane shit, totally trumped the sex—even though it was amazing, mind-blowing, stupendous sex.

  And it was. Holy shit, it was unbelievable. Zelda took my limitations and made them work for us. She didn’t shy away from mentioning the challenges, but she somehow elevated them. She accepted me for what I could do, but she always figu
red out a way to bring both of us incredible pleasure.

  I thought about this as I lay alongside her, late one summer afternoon, both of us coming down from some of that incredible pleasure. My heart was pounding, and my body was high on post-orgasmic endorphins. And the woman lying next to me, her eyes steady and wondering on mine, was the most exquisite sight I’d ever had the privilege of seeing.

  “You’re so beautiful.” I said the words without really thinking, speaking out of an intense need to say something, anything, that would hint at the depth of my feeling. I wanted to see her eyes go liquid again, and I needed that connection that only seemed to come when I was buried balls deep in her.

  But the minute I opened my mouth, I realized those words were all wrong. Instead of warming, her blue eyes glazed over, shuttering in such a way that I knew she was pulling back, even if she hadn’t moved at all. Her head still lay on my arm, blonde hair spilling around both of us, and one of her hands was braced on my hip. Her face didn’t change, except that her mouth thinned just the slightest bit.

  “Why, thank you.” Her voice was infused with humor and a little weariness. She fastened her gaze over my shoulder, and the tip of her tongue touched the corner of her lips. The air between us, that intimacy that was so rare, had vanished, replaced by a heightened tension.

  “But that’s not what you want to hear from me. You don’t buy it.” I wasn’t asking a question, just stating a fact.

  “Why wouldn’t I believe you?” She moved one slender, naked shoulder. “I know what I look like. I have a mirror. Taking into consideration both modern conventional norms and traditional standards of beauty, there’s no doubt that I am beautiful. Why would I argue with you over something so clearly true?”

  “No, that’s not it. I didn’t say you don’t believe me. Just that you don’t necessarily accept it from me, and you don’t want me to say it.” I ventured one hand out to wind a strand of her hair around my finger. “Because if I say it, I’m just like all those other guys who tell you that. But they do it because they think it’s going to get them in your bed faster. They do it because they have an agenda.”