FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (61 page)

I gulped and found my voice, hoping it sounded steady.  "I need to go to the library.  It's finals, I need to study." 

"You can study here, the roads are closed unless it's an emergency.  The mayor said so."

I rolled my eyes.  "I know Dad, I was right there when he did, remember?"   I wasn't really invested in leaving before, but now I was.  "It is an emergency, I have to make my grades."

  "You can study here," my mother piped up from my father's chest.

"You let Sarah go out." It felt cheap, but it needed to be said,

"I didn't
let
her, and she's going to have hell to pay when she gets home."

"But I'm nineteen and in college, you need to let me make my own decisions."

"Stop being dramatic, Alexandra."  Mom pulled back from my father and sighed. She rolled her eyes and that was it, the argument was done.

I ran stomping upstairs, aware of being dramatic, but I couldn’t help myself.  This was like being in high school all over again.  I was a grown woman but I still lived the life of a teenager.  I needed to cut free, break loose. 

I grabbed my phone and checked it.  Ingrid's number was right there, tantalizing me.  My thumb hovered over the call button several moments before I finally made my decision.

Case

Case looked out of the tiny, second floor window and out onto the snow covered street below.  Buried cars were humped along each side of the road.  A few intrepid souls had tried to forge through the snow with their 4x4s, leaving two deep, rutted tire tracks for the cars that came behind them.

"Well, fuck," he sighed.

Crash was rifling through cabinets.  "I don't have much," he called, his voice muffled inside an open cupboard. "Ah, here it is."

Case turned to see him triumphantly beaming, holding an ancient jar of instant coffee.  "Whatever, as long as its hot and caffeinated."

Crash slammed a chipped mug into the microwave and pressed several buttons.  "You want sugar?  I got that too.  But no milk or shit, it goes bad too quickly."

"Black is fine."

Crash nodded and opened the microwave before it was done cooking, too impatient to wait.   He slopped the heaping mounds of crystals into the steaming mug as carefully as he drove his pick-up. 

"Here, get your own damn sugar." Crash handed him the too hot mug, and Case had to set it down quickly to avoid scalding himself. He sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. Once he located a clean spoon, he dumped three heaping tablespoons of sugar into the bitter brew.

He lifted it hesitantly to his lips. The first sip confirmed what he had suspected from the smell.  It tasted awful. But it was warm and it was coffee and so he kept sipping as he watched the plows go by.

"How'd your girl get home last night?" He didn't really care, but felt like he needed to make conversation. After all, Crash had let him sleep here the night so he wouldn't have to find a way back to the clubhouse in the storm. Even though Crash was his brother, he still felt awkward and he wished J. was here.

"Beats me." Crash laughed and lit a cigarette. 

Case's nostrils twitched.  The smell of tobacco made him flinch, the bad memories threatening to take him over once more. He smoked, but only occasionally, and he hated the smell on others. It reminded him too much of both his mother and fear.

He shifted on the couch, trying discreetly to move out of range. He wasn't sure if Crash saw him or if he just got bored by Case's inane conversation, because he suddenly wandered away from the kitchen and into his room, scratching has ass through his boxers.  Case was almost ready to drift back into his reverie when he heard Crash's shout of laughter from the bedroom.

"Aw how sweet, she left her number!" Crash appeared in the doorway holding a piece of paper, and his eyes looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd hit that again," he said appraisingly. 

Case thought of the girl with the brown eyes.  He would definitely never see her again.  But he'd like to see a girl who looked like her once more.

He needed to get out of this slump. He'd been banging bored housewives for too long and, true to their nature, they were boring.  He suddenly found himself way more interested Crash's lifestyle that he was previously. "You gonna see her again?" 

"Yeah, sure, she was a screamer, I like that." Crash's smile was lopsided as he licked his lips.  "Usually go for the Latina ladies though.   I love my senoritas." He leaned against the doorway, favoring his bad leg.   "Lusty Latin firecrackers, man oh man, I had this one chick, I swear she could cum like a freight train. I just wanted to stay in that pussy all day, crawl up inside and live there.  I tell you, she shaved herself bare except for this little dark tuft, holy shit man, I wish you could have seen it...."

As Crash waxed poetic about the Latinas of his past, Case turned back to the window and tuned him out. Even though the sun was out, the snow was still falling lightly from the clear sky. Case wondered how the heck that could be happening. "How're we gonna get back to the clubhouse?" he wondered suddenly.

Crash interrupted his monologue. "Beats me, and who cares? It's finals week at Temple, the bitches are in the mood to party. And we're right in the prime location." 

Case nodded and considered. The rest of the club always ragged on Crash for his pussy chasing ways, but J. wasn't paying attention anymore, and hanging out with the old dudes was depressing as fuck.  He felt guilty thinking that about Mac, but there was no denying that the man was getting older.  His life was catching up with him hard.  The strong silent man who had taken him in seven years ago was getting racked more and more by the cough.  He spent his days in the clubhouse, silently drinking and mourning the woman who left him twenty-five years ago. 

Maybe it was the cold that brought back the memory.  Maybe it was the fact that today was Hunter's birthday, just like it had been that day when he had pounded on Mac's door.  Mac still had the house back then, before he had moved completely into the clubhouse. Back then he was still holding onto the memory of his wife, unable to let go of the house they had shared in happier times.

And the Case was grateful for it. The house on the corner with too many trees in the front yard, shading it from the view of the passersby, was where he had ended up desperately pounding on the door that bitterly cold afternoon.

When Mac had answered the door and saw the shaggy haired kid shivering on his porch with his toes stuffed into too small shoes, he hadn't said anything.  But he knew exactly what Case needed.  It was too embarrassing to go to her house, even though she tried so hard to care for him. Better to go to the grizzled old vet who kept to himself and seemed like he could keep a secret.

That evening, Mac had fed the boys without comment.  Case watched from the corner and shook his head when Mac held out his offering of Hamburger Helper, but Case wanted to wait until the younger boys had their fill.  Their ribs were sticking out alarmingly.  He was big and strong for a fourteen year old. He could drink water to curb his appetite.  At least that hadn't been turned off yet, unlike the heat. 

When Mac asked him if he wanted to tell him where he got that shiner, Case pressed his lips together and shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest and refusing to meet Mac's eyes.  It was Dom, Mother's most recent boyfriend. After Case watched him beat his mom without moving, Dom went on to try to hit Hunter. Once his little brother was threatened, Case had immediately jumped in. Dom had clocked him, knocking him backwards over the couch. 

"No, I don't want to talk about it

"Well, it's your business." Mac replied, and went on preparing a second helping of dinner.  When he was done he slid a plate over to Case.  Case tried to hold back. He didn't want to show how hungry he was but once the first forkful hit his lips, he inhaled it like a vacuum. Pausing to look up from his plate for a second, he saw that Jonah and Hunter were laughing and pink cheeked for the first since Mother had stormed out after Dom and left them alone in the freezing house.  It helped Case's heart, to see them looking happy. The tight anxiety that was ever present in his daily life eased slightly.  He felt like he could maybe trust this man.  Maybe.  Or at least try to trust. 

Slowly he turned to where Mac sat, his fist closed around an open can of beer.

"Can I ask you something?" He tried to keep his voice from wavering.

Mac inclined his head slightly.

"Do you know anywhere I could find a job?"

Mac was silent so long he wondered if he hadn't heard him. Case felt suddenly nervous. This was revealing too much. A fourteen-year-old shouldn't be holding a job, he should be in school, hanging out with his friends, enjoying his youth. Not worrying about providing for two smaller children. This was the kind of attention he always tried to avoid. How stupid could he be in bringing the focus onto their home life? Why had he opened his mouth? Why had he broken down? The food didn't taste good anymore. He pushed his plate back.

"You know anythin' 'bout being a mechanic?" Mac was looking at him steadily.

Case felt a flutter in his chest. He had no idea, of course, but he had done enough jerry-rigged repairs around the house that he felt he was justified in lying.

"Sure I do.'

"Then yeah, I think I do."

Case imitated Mac's abbreviated nod. He didn't want to betray how excited he felt. There was a sense of relief in having finally having an adult watch over them. The burden on his shoulders eased slightly as he watched Mac move around his kitchen with a cigarette in his mouth, dumping food from cans into a battered old saucepan.  The cigarette didn't turn Case's stomach like his mother's sour menthols. 

Two weeks. This has been the longest she'd been gone yet. He hoped she would stay away for good now. 

Lexi

I was so grateful to be out of the house that I left way earlier than I needed to for my first class.  The storm had left the world sparkling and new in the crisp cold.  The approach of the holidays had everyone in the neighborhood happy and shouting about how it would definitely be a white Christmas.

I drove down Kelly Drive, wending my way past the sculptures and towards the glistening glass buildings of Center City that reflected the puffy clouds and blue sky.  It was above freezing and the steady drip-drip of icicles rained down on me as I crossed under the roofs of the campus buildings to find my way to the library.

I pulled my books out of my bag and found my notebook.  My American History exam was still scheduled for tomorrow.  No respite for yesterday being a snow day. But I didn't care. I was as prepared as I could ever be. Instead of my usual flurry of worry, I instead leafed mindlessly through my notebook, not seeing the scrawled handwriting at all. 

Looking out of the windows and into the freshly scrubbed world made me antsy. I looked down to see my legs were wiggling, in the way that drove my father crazy. He was always yelling at me to just sit still. When I was little it was cute to be called "Wiggles", but as I got older, I was expected to be a proper lady.  And proper ladies sit still.

Casey was the only person I had ever met who seemed wound up more tightly than I was.

I sat back in my chair, not seeing the outside world anymore. Instead, my mind took me back to that ride on the 27 bus to Center City, on one of the few times my parents had allowed me to go out alone with him. As we sat next to each other in the cramped seats, we bounced our legs in unison. Pressing my leg up against his felt nice in way that I couldn't explain. It was like we were joined somehow. Our silent shimmying made me feel closer to him than words ever could.

When we were close
. The thought made me blink rapidly as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Those golden moments were gone now. The secrets we had shared sitting in my room together, with the door wide open to appease my mother's nosy nervousness. He knew everything about me back then. My deepest heart. My darkest fears. Talking to Casey made everything makes sense, and I loved him for it. Loved him as deeply and as completely as my fourteen year-old heart could manage.

But in all my love, I hadn't noticed what was there in front of my face from the very beginning. I had selfishly used his love as a crutch, as a blanket to wrap myself.  Never heeding the warning signs that he was in pain.

As close as we were, he never let me in his house. I knew he had brothers but I was never allowed to meet them more than just in passing. They were more like knobby-kneed, blond little ghosts, regarding me solemnly and warily from the shadows. He was the oldest of three boys and I was the oldest of three girls. I found that symmetry pleasing intellectually, but in my heart I knew something was desperately wrong.

I shook my head and ripped my gaze from the window, unwilling to think these thoughts any longer. I turned back to my notebook, stared for a moment, then reached into my bag for my phone. I would study for one hour, I resolved. One hour and then I would allow myself to go get some more coffee.

The minute I bent my head back to my notebook, my phone vibrated. I grabbed it, feeling relieved to be distracted from the studying I had barely even started. I gasped slightly when I saw that Ingrid had texted me back.

"Sorry! Just got this. You around campus?"

"In library," I replied, fingers flying furiously. Excitement bubbled in my chest. When she hadn't answered my text last night, I had given up, telling myself that she had finally had enough of my wishy-washy nervousness.  But it seemed I was wrong.

I bounced a little.  I couldn't help it. Today was going to be the day. Today I would take Ingrid up on her offer to go out
. Just for a little while, something to relieve the pressure of exams,
I vowed. Though, if I was honest with myself, I had barely studied at all.

But I pushed the thought aside.

I was just starting to become crestfallen that Ingrid hadn't texted me back yet, when she appeared in the doorway, looking like a fashion show as usual.

Once again I felt lumpy in her presence. I'm a weird combination; not a true blend of my parents like Sarah and Mary, but more like an assembly. I have my father's Irish red hair, though now he was completely bald. I have my mother's deep brown eyes, my father's freckles, my mother's wide sensuous mouth and full lips, my father's broad's strong shoulders, and my mother's wide Italian hips. My face was adorned with my father's big ears and my mother's straight, Roman nose. It was like someone ripped their features out of photographs and reassembled them into me.

Ingrid's small, delicate, porcelain doll features unsettled me, as did her fashion designer's flair for the dramatic. I was dressed in a cable knit sweater so heavy it was making me sweat in the library's close heat. The prickle of sweat along my forehead made me worried that my hair was starting to frizz. The dryness of winter usually earned me some respite from my hair's wild mood swings, but today did not seem to be my day.

"Hey Delaney! You're here early."

"Couldn't stand being in my parents' house a minute longer," I admitted truthfully.

She laughed, a musical sound, exposing rows of perfectly pearly white teeth. "Living at home gettin' to you, huh?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically and she laughed harder. "Snowed in with my parents, oh God, perish the thought. I would be in jail for murder."

"My dad's a former cop, I'd be on death row."

She widened her eyes for a second then laughed all the harder. "Damn Delaney, what's gotten into you this morning? I never knew you were such a bad ass."

I cocked my head to the side. "Desperation?"

She nodded. "I read you loud and clear. What are you doing tonight?"

The prickles on my scalp had become actual droplets of sweat. I couldn't stand it any longer. "Hang on," I called, and boldly stood up and took off that damned sweater. Once in my camisole, I finally felt like I wasn't going to faint.

Ingrid looked at me wide-eyed, and I swear I saw her lick her lips slightly as her eyes raked over my chest. "Damn Lexi, where have you been hiding that body? You have got one hell of a rack."

I looked down at my deep, exposed cleavage and blushed. "Shit, sorry."

She widened her eyes. "Oh please, don't be, you remind me of my ex. Damn I miss those boobies."

My blush raged hotter. "Oh. You're a lesbian? I didn't know that."

"Nope!" She sang out, tossing her hair. "I'm bi." She grinned crookedly. "I like to fuck everybody, why bother with gender?"

I flashed to what my Catholic parents would say.  They would sniff and try to be hip, but claim she was just confused. That made me angry for her, and suddenly I wanted to protect her. Even though she clearly didn't need protecting.

"Well, um, awesome!" I stammered. "Er, I'd love to go out tonight, I need a break." 

She tapped her chin for a moment with a sky blue painted fingernail. "There're some friends I have from high school, they went to Temple, they're having a kegger tonight."  She started nodding as the plans settled in her mind.  "Yeah, that would work, it's supposed to be pretty chill, nothing wild." She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "I'll break you in easy, Delaney."

"Temple?" I repeated. Shit.  I tried to play it off cool, but the thought of going to Temple for a party made me nervous. All my life I've have heard about what a rough neighborhood Temple was in. My father's stories of students being held up at knife point, gunpoint, or even worse were a staple of our dining room table. He abjectly refused to let me go to school there, even though it was close to home, and a really decent school.  The tour I had insisted we take even emphasized how the school kept students safe and separate from the surrounding neighborhoods, even that wasn't good enough to quell my father's fears. If my father knew I was going to a party at Temple, he would hit the roof.

I decided to lie. 

I would bring my car, not drink too much and be home no later than ten. 
They wouldn't have any reason to get mad
, I reassured myself
. I'm nineteen.  They need to realize that.  Maybe the only way to help them do that is if I start acting like it.
 

My long hesitation didn't go unnoticed by Ingrid. She cocked her head and fixed her eyes on my still exposed chest. "Really, those are some spectacular tits, Lexi. You are doing a disservice to the world by keeping them hidden."

I started to laugh, louder that I meant to, but hysterical with the tension of knowing I was about to defy my family's wishes. Ingrid smiled back and tossed the rippling blonde hair that fell in a shimmering sheet about her shoulders. "Shit, what time is it?"

I looked down at my phone. "Shit is right, we'd better go."

I looked for a moment where my sweater lay in a heap on the table and made a quick decision. Stuffing it into my bag, I slipped my bare arms into my snow jacket, I followed her out of the library and out onto the concourse towards our class. The cold seeped right through my jacket, bringing goosebumps to my bare skin, and I wondered how I had ever thought it was warming up.

The day was even more dazzling now that the sun was higher in the sky, shining white in the sparkling snow.   When we stepped into lecture hall my eyes took forever to adjust to the dimness.  So I just kept following Ingrid blindly.

She led me to the back of the hall, where she and her minions sat, far away from the whiteboard.  I could barely make out my professor's scrawl. Shooting a self-conscious look in her direction, I reached into my purse and pulled out my glasses.  Ingrid looked at me sidelong and I shrugged.

I hated my glasses. And I hated sitting in the back of classrooms and having to wear them.

It felt weird, sitting back here.  Like an out of body experience. The whole semester I sat in the front row, studiously taking notes and raising my hand. It was a rut, a habit, that felt too longstanding to break so late in the game. Looking down at the lecture hall from this vantage point gives me a different perspective. Everything seemed small. My professor was a beige blur below us. From way up here I could barely make out his face much less count the hairs on his ears like I normally did.

In spite of the looming exams, the whole class seemed in high spirits. After shouting at us several times to quiet down, Prof. Schwartz just opened his arms.  "Who has questions for me?"

I looked down at my notebook. I actually had several, but sitting next to Ingrid made me self-conscious about asking them. So I sat back nervously, hoping that one of my fellow nerds would take the initiative.

But when they did, I felt guilty. Especially when one of my own questions was praised as being 'very astute.' Hearing my question in the mouth of the fat, sweaty guy in the second row made me jealous in a way I didn't quite understand. Something was changing inside of me. With deliberate slowness, I reached up to my face and removed the glasses that had plagued me my whole life. I leaned back, feigning comfort in the straight-backed chair, and shot a smile at Ingrid. Tonight, I was ready for some fun. Tonight I was ready to be a new kind of Lexi.