Vérité (12 page)

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Authors: Rachel Blaufeld

BOOK: Vérité
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When I saw the strip of condoms and a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the nightstand, I understood then how something might been misconstrued by my staying with Trey. From what I gathered in the car ride back from my dorm, he was a junior, a self-professed ladies’ man, and a starting guard on the team. Tiberius had gone to the same prep school as Trey—one of the reasons Hafton went back to recruit another player. Tiberius would supposedly be coming off the bench to relieve Trey at shooting guard . . . and hopefully be a starter soon.

I pulled Trey’s door closed, then padded down the hall toward Ty’s room. It was all together and controlled, just like the man who lived there. The navy bedspread was tucked in on all four corners, and there were no condoms or booze to be seen. Above his bed was a poster from his high school with their logo and his number memorialized in the middle. A team photo held a place of honor on his dresser, and curious, I crept closer to inspect it. A young Tiberius sat in the middle of the front row with a faux thug expression in place of his normal bright smile, and all his teammates were woven around him with the same hard-ass look plastered across their faces. They were a tapestry of colors and heights and widths. Despite all their physical differences, brotherhood and love jumped off the photo.

As I backed out of the room and pulled the bedroom door shut, I heard the front door open and close.

“Tingly?” Tiberius called from the hallway.

I called out, “Here,” my response weak from the fear that ripped through my body like the tornado whipped through Kansas in
The Wizard of Oz
. I was afraid to show my face, scared about what may have happened to Logan, and absolutely terrified over what might come next between Tiberius and me.

I’m not in Kansas anymore.

“You good?” Ty’s voice was louder as he made his way into the open main space. He turned the corner and walked toward me in the same ratty T-shirt he’d had on earlier. Only now there was a spray of blood across the shoulder.

My heart rate amped up to such a frenetic pace, I felt like I was at the track. “I’m okay. You?” I asked, my eyes not meeting his as I stared at the red spatter.

“All good. I could use a shower. You down with waiting another few minutes?”

As if I had a choice. I’d been kept prisoner there all afternoon, and now I couldn’t walk away from the bloodied guy in front of me if I tried.

I nodded. He stepped close and slipped his hand behind my neck, sliding it along the nape under the heavy shawl of my hair.

Bringing my face underneath his nose, he said quietly, “Don’t be scared, T. It’s all good, okay? Everything’s good, and now you’re protected and nobody’s gonna touch you.”

How did he do that? Read my thoughts so clearly when I’d spent the greater part of my life masking them?

Slipping from his grasp, I said, “Go get a shower, I’ll wait.”

After he nodded and headed back to his room, I sat on the couch, my hands tucked under my thighs, my legs beating up and down to some unknown frantic rhythm. The water came on, the pipes roaring to life. I took a deep, calming breath and let the calming whoosh in the background soothe my frazzled nerves.

My phone beeped, then buzzed in my pocket.

 

GINNY
: Hey, you okay? I just got home from last night. You’re not here.

ME
: Yeah. Stayed out last night after going out with the track team. I came back for a little. With Tiberius now.

GINNY
: You sure you’re okay? What are you doing later for dinner? You going out?

ME
: I don’t know. Tiberius is showering, so I’ll see when he gets out.

GINNY
: Ooh, showering. Sorry to disturb. Wink, wink.

ME
: I think I liked you better when your head was tucked in a book. Wink, wink.

GINNY
: Ha. Very funny. Text me later.

 

I bowed my head in silent thanks. Ginny would have told me if she’d heard anything about last night. If rumors were going to spread, the athletic dorms would be the first place they would steamroll through. The last thing I needed was to call attention to myself. Again. Which was why I hoped whatever happened with Logan this afternoon didn’t get out either. Even if people knew the truth, they would side with him over me. After all, I was already branded with a scarlet letter.

The water stopped, the pipes clanging for a few seconds until quieting, and then Tiberius walked out with just a towel around his waist. Beads of water slid down his chest, coming to a rest on the edge of the towel, where they were absorbed.

First, I focused on his tattoo, now recognizing the crest as being from his high school. Then my eyes wandered, drinking their fill as they ran the full length of him from his dark nipples to his ankles, stopping to widen at his thick and muscular legs.

“You hungry?” Tiberius asked, interrupting my perusal.

“Um, what?”

“Are you hungry?”

Warmth crept up my cheeks at the suspicion he was referring to the hunger that was probably dancing in my eyes. “Um, you mean for lunch or dinner?”

“Yeah. What did you think I meant?” he asked, smirking.

“Sure. I’m a little hungry.”

“Good. I’m going to throw on some clothes and then we can go eat. Want to go to the dorms or somewhere in town?”

“How about the Union?”

“Good idea. One sec and I’ll be ready,” he yelled as he headed back toward his room.

I wondered where Trey was; could he be finishing up something with Logan? A chill climbed my body like a roller coaster heading toward the top of a steep drop. As soon as my stomach dipped, more thoughts clawed up my spine.

Was this our first date? First I was sequestered inside his apartment, and then Tiberius casually asked if we should go eat as if that was a normal, everyday occurrence. He’d been asking and I’d been refusing to go eat, and now he had me at his mercy.

Luckily, Tiberius was dressed quickly, so I didn’t have long with my free-falling thoughts. Otherwise, I may have bolted—with or without permission.

“Let’s roll.” He held out his hand, then pulled me up from the sofa.

“Let’s roll,” I said, mocking him as I rolled my eyes.

“What?” He stopped to stare at me, and his smile faded. I wanted it back.

“Nothing, it’s just you came back with blood on your shirt after going to explain ‘the rules’ to Logan, and now you just want to go eat. Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” Afraid to meet his gaze, I stared at the beige carpet as if I thought it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen.

Tiberius shook his head. “Come on, that wasn’t Logan’s blood. I’ll explain when we walk.”

Before I could argue with him he pulled me out the door, steering us up the path toward campus. Tiberius’s even-tempered nature was soothing, and I took deep breaths to summon the patience to let him tell me what happened in his own time. Lucky for me, he didn’t make me wait long.

“Look, Rex, I get you care about what happens to Logan because he’s part of the team. I would never jeopardize that. I thought you’d know that about me, seeing as how I only got the guys on the team now.”

We walked side by side, making it easier to talk since I didn’t have to face him. His straightforwardness was refreshing, something I definitely wasn’t used to, but I wasn’t sure if I could ever take his motives at face value. It was so unlike the world I grew up in, where everything was fake and phony. In LA, posing and posturing took precedence over loyalty and love.

“When I said we were gonna talk, I meant it. The guys and I went to take Logan’s pulse on what happened, make sure he’s going to take the boys’ little beating as a warning and stay away from you. Mostly, I wanted to make sure this didn’t blow back on you.” Catching my eye, he said pointedly, “It’s not gonna.”

“So, whose blood was that?” I couldn’t help but blurt.

“Mel’s.”

“What?” I stopped walking and turned to face Tiberius, craning my neck to see his face, and saw nothing but honesty and openness in his eyes. “Mel? Why? He took care of me.”

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m defending Jamel?

“It was just a bloody lip, and he deserved it. The lip bleeds a lot, so when I got up in his grill, it went flying everywhere.”

Tiberius took my hand and started walking again, his words tumbling faster. “I’m trying hard not to be jealous of him, you in his T-shirt, you defending him. And I’m not telling you this to make you mad, but he doesn’t like you, T. He doesn’t like anyone except for the team, so he’s agreed to accept you. But today he didn’t get away with his skinny-white-girl bullshit, and I let him know I’m not gonna hear any more of that. So, that’s it. And I may have busted up his lip while letting him know.”

He squeezed my hand, making my fingers disappear inside his gigantic paw. How could he be so gentle with me, but act like busting someone’s lip was no biggie?

At my dubious expression, he shook his head. “We’re guys. We don’t use our words all the time, Rex. The team is a family, they’re like brothers, so when they act shitty, they get my fist. I don’t say,
pretty please don’t do that
. That wouldn’t settle shit.”

“Did I just say what I was thinking out loud? Or did you know what was rambling through my brain?” I stopped again, needing clarification of what just occurred between the two of us.

“I could tell. Hey, it was just my momma and me growing up, I know how to read women. Don’t make fun of me!” Laughter vibrated in his chest, the rumble of it traveling down his arm to where our hands were still entwined. Then he became very serious, almost ominous, his eyes turning a dark blue beneath his furrowed brow. “I would never use my fists on a woman, though. Never. You get that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.
Tu fait l’amour aux dames
,” I said with a heavy French accent.

“Say what?” Tiberius shot back in heavy Jersey.

“You make love to the ladies,” I translated, and I swear to God, I thought I saw a faint blush creep over Ty’s cheeks. “Hey, I was just kidding. I’m a French major, Italian and Spanish minor. Sometimes I can’t help it. But I can tell you’re gentle, the
make love, not war
kind of guy,” I joked back, wanting to move away from this discussion.

And clearly so did Tiberius, because he quickly added, “Come on, I’m hungry, and I’m finally getting to take you to eat.”

We talked and joked the entire way to the Union, laughing about different words in French and Spanish, and what few jobs would be available for me as a language major. Tiberius told me he was a business major, and moaned a little over Statistics 200.

When we finally made it to the food line, he made a big deal out of using his student ID to pay for both of our meals, even though we were both on athletic meal plans. “It’s our first date,” he reminded me, his eyes shiny blue again, their lightness matching his wide smile.

I’d just muttered my thanks and reached up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek when a burst of clapping and whistling broke out. Careful not to drop my salad, I turned slowly to see Trey and Lamar grinning and punching each other in the shoulder like goofballs.

I was surprised to see them both wearing low-slung jeans, Nike T-shirts, and clean basketball shoes—basically what Tiberius was wearing. It was the first time I’d seen all of them without their uniforms or practice clothes on. Well, the night before, I guess Trey had been wearing something else, but I was too frazzled to notice.

They looked good. All of them, especially Tiberius, who finished paying and was ready to sit.

It was impossible not to pass the other guys as we made our way toward a table.

“Hey, Tingly,” Trey said.

“T,” came with a chin lift from Lamar.

Tiberius gave them a frown. “Cool it.”

“Hey.” I smiled at the other guys and flashed a dirty look at Tiberius. I had to admit, I was afraid he was going to go all robo-possessive again and start busting up lips.

“What you two up to?” Trey asked, lifting his chin toward us.

“Eating,” I answered.

“Cool. We’ll sit with ya’ll.” Lamar mugged at us as if he were joking, but then he grabbed a giant Gatorade and a few slices of pizza and made himself comfortable.

We took up a table large enough for ten people, so the guys could make themselves comfortable with their impossibly long tree-trunk legs spread out in front of them. Then they woofed down more calories than I’d ever imagined was possible.

Tiberius was making his way through a meatball hoagie, a side of fries, and a blue drink when he waved a fry at me. “Want one?” he asked.

“Are you sure you can spare one?”

“Yeah,” he said, before adding with a chin nod, “There’s more up there.”

I grabbed the fry and plunged it into the ketchup before popping it in my mouth. Sadly, a small moan escaped my lungs as I had my way with the salty, greasy, crispy piece of potato.

“You know you wish she’d do that for you,” Trey said slyly, taunting Tiberius.

“Here, have another.” Tiberius offered up another one and I lunged for it, nearly falling out of my chair.

“What, you starve yourself? That why you’re so skinny?” Lamar asked with another chin lift. These guys loved their chin lifts as much as their not-so-gentle ribbing and nicknames.

I shook my head. “Nah. Just a bad habit from growing up. We didn’t eat fried food,” I said without thinking, then froze. The differences in our two worlds crashed head-on with my lungs inside my chest, stunting my breath. I was worried I’d offended them, but they continued to surprise me, these basketball boys.

“Shit, girl, we got to get you some fried food and put some meat on your bones.”

Trying to hold the emotional storm raging inside my heart at bay, I said, “A little fried food is a go, meat on my bones is a no-go. I need to stay lean for my season. That would be like me suggesting we chop a few inches off your height.”

That earned me a huge laugh from Trey. “Nah, girl. Our boy Tiberius needs something to hold on to. Little bit’s all you need,” he teased with a glance at Ty, tormenting his roommate again.

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