Whiplash: A Sports Romance (11 page)

I move quickly down the hall towards the lobby to look for Junior. Before I round the corner, a hand latches around my arm and pulls me into an empty classroom.

Junior closes the door and presses me against the wall. “Congratulations,” he says before crushing his lips on mine.

I lean into the kiss, feeling it all the way down into my toes as his hands travel down my body. “Thanks for coming,” I tell him, “at eight in the morning on a
Saturday
.”

He attacks my neck, leaving a line of kisses from my ear to my collarbone. “I had to be on campus anyway,” he says, sliding his fingers beneath my blouse. “Coach wants to get in one last practice before the game today.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?”

“Probably,” he breathes, kissing me again. He leans down to cup my rear and lifts me up to pin me against the wall with little effort. “But I wanted to be sure you’re still in on our deal…”

I quiver as his hard package presses against me. “Yes, I’m still in.”

“Good.” He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth. “Because I want to fill this little mouth of yours, Eliza Pierce…”

I moan, imagining his salty sweetness on my tongue.

He gives me one last kiss and drops me back down. “Are you coming to the game?”

“Uh…” I straighten my skirt. “I don’t think so.”

“What? You don’t like football?”

“Not really.”

Junior chuckles. “But your dad is
Cary Pierce
.”

“Yeah… that’s kinda why I don’t like football,” I say, only half-joking.

“Where can I find you after?”

“Here.”

His lips curl. He slides his thumb along my bottom lip and I know exactly what he’s imagining putting there. “Bye, Ellie.”

I nod, fighting all temptation in me to let him have it right here and now. “Bye, Junior.”

He opens the door and steps outside into the hall.

I take a long, deep breath. Then another one. And another one.

It’s only eight in the morning and I already need a new pair of panties.

It’s gonna be a long day…

Chapter 11

Junior

Pure adrenaline.

There’s no other way to describe it. The call of the screaming crowd — most of which came just to catch a quick glimpse of Cary Pierce. The rehearsed rhymes from the cheerleaders. The weight of the pads on my shoulders. It all comes together with the pouring sweat and pulsing blood and that’s what it creates: Pure, unfiltered adrenaline.

Add in the taste of Eliza Pierce’s lip gloss still clinging to my tongue and I’m surprised I’m even conscious right now.

I look straight ahead and stare into the faces of the defensive linemen, each one of them just itching to dart forward and take me out. Their black eyes give a nervous twitch and I fight the grin from spreading across my face.

Earlier tonight, that twitch was nonexistent. They knew who we were. They knew the reputation this school has, just like everybody else does.

We’re a bunch of losers.

Not so much anymore.

We’re twelve points ahead.
Twelve.
That’s a bigger lead than we’ve ever had. The other team thought they had this in the bag but since the start of the fourth quarter, they’ve been sweating a little more than we are.

I glance to the sidelines and I lock eyes with Cary Pierce. He nods at me with his arms crossed over his chest and for a moment, I think this is all just a dream.

If someone walked up to me when I was ten-years-old and told me that someday I’d be the quarterback for a college football team coached by
Cary freakin’ Pierce
, I’d have said they were full of shit. Especially when they added in the part about feeling up his hot daughter in a dark, empty classroom.

With eyes forward, I lean down to prepare for the snap. The world spins in slow motion and I turn my head to check the positions of the offensive line one last time, my cleats digging into the turf just twenty yards from the end zone.

“Hike!”

The center snaps the ball back and I catch it as the defensive line shoves forward with hell in their eyes.

My eyes shift to the wide receivers on either side. The one to my left struggles to make it past the cornerback but Ty bolts like lightning around the fray.

I pull my arm back and throw it over their heads, arching it far down the field a split second before a two-hundred-pound mass topples me to the ground. I roll them away and pulse up onto my knees to watch the play unfold.

Ty sprints and launches forward to catch the ball before rolling onto the ground — smack dab in the middle of the brightly-lit end zone.

The crowd screams with victory and the world shakes from the sound of their feet pounding against the bleachers.

My eyes rush to the clock. Seven seconds. There are only seven seconds left in the game and we’re officially up eighteen points.

We’re going to win.

I throw up my hands and scream, along with the rest of my stadium. It’s hard to say who’s more shocked: our team, their team, or the crowd.

I look at Cary Pierce. He’s still standing there on the sidelines with his arms crossed. The only difference is that now he’s smirking — like he knew this was how it was destined to end all along.

My ears ring so badly that I don’t even hear it when the clock hits zero.

***

Ty hops up onto the bench and waves his hands around the locker room to get our attention. He’s still clutching the football but the man deserves to hold onto that for as long as he fucking wants.

“Party at our place tonight!” he announces, igniting a wave of shouts and hoo-rahs from the team. “Bring your booze! Bring your women and friends! Leave your inhibitions at the door!”

He hops off the bench and pats my shoulder, quickly realizing that I didn’t actually approve a giant post-game party at our shared residence.

“That cool?” he asks.

I laugh. “Of course.”

“John and I are hitting the liquor store on the way home. Want to follow us? We
might
need help physically unearthing the store from the ground and dropping it into our backyard.”

I lick my lips, tasting what remains of Eliza’s cherry flavor. “Actually, there’s something I have to take care of real quick but I’ll meet you at the house after.”

Ty stares at me with suspicion but he says nothing of it. “All right. I’ll see you there.”

I close my locker and bolt outside into the quad.

“It’s Junior!”

My feet barely hit the sidewalk before the screaming starts. Fellow students rush at me, their faces painted with school colors.

I pause, immersed in the strange glory of it all. I accept the high-fives and the selfies with various girls that can’t keep their hands off of me.

Holy shit.

We won one game.
One game.

The crowd chants my name and my face turns red. I push through them, grinning like a madman and listening to them scream my name over and over again.

I could stand here and take this all night but there’s only one voice I really want to hear screaming my name right now.

Luckily, the crowd doesn’t follow me very far. They’re all too eager to get a piece of every player that walks out of the athletic center, collecting selfies with them like novelty shot glasses.

I pause outside of Talon Hall and rush around to the back entrance instead to avoid suspicion.

It’s quiet inside. I guess the celebration hasn’t reached this place yet. Or they just don’t care. Neither would surprise me given how nonchalant Eliza is about the whole thing.

Voices touch my ears, a sudden uproar of laughter echoing from the auditorium. I pull the doors open and step inside. It’s a small group hanging out by the stage, Eliza Pierce herself among them. I sit down in the back row, deciding to watch her from afar just like I did at her audition.

There’s something about the way she is around other people that’s different than the way she is around me but I can’t put my finger on what. She’s always beautiful and confident and well-spoken but… maybe it’s her
eyes
; those shimmering blue pools of light that almost seem to twinkle when she looks at me.

“Bye, Eliza. Bye, Grant.”

My lips twitch as the others excuse themselves, leaving her and Grant alone on the stage. I stand up as they leave and walk down the aisle towards them as Grant rattles off about the upcoming theatre showcase.

Finally, Eliza notices me. Her teeth instantly clutch her bottom lip and her cheeks take on a rosy tint.

Grant’s eyes shift towards me and he grins. “Hello there.”

“Hey,” I greet.

“Grant, I’ll text you later tonight, okay?” Eliza says to him, her eyes just barely leaving mine.

He flashes a slow, knowing grin and grabs his backpack. “All right.” He clears his throat. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Eliza continues to stare at me as Grant hops off the stage. He passes me with quick strides and pats my shoulder on the way, but it’s less a friendly gesture than it is one of warning — kind of like a big brother sizing up his little sister’s date.

I wait for him to leave and we linger in the silence together.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I smile. “We won.”

She rolls her eyes. “Is that what all that screaming out there was about?”

“It was a good game.”

“Was it down-to-the-wire exciting?”

“It was, actually.”

“Bottom of the ninth?” she asks. “Bases loaded?”

“That’s
baseball
.”

“I know. I’m just fucking with you, Junior.” She sits down on the edge of the stage, her bare legs dangling down beneath the hem of her skirt. “So, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with the other jocks?”

“You know why I’m here.”

She raises a quick brow, playing up the innocent coyness in her tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

I stop in front of her, just barely easing between her legs. “I’m here to fill that smart, little mouth of yours and you’re going to swallow every drop of me.”

“I never agreed to
that part
.”

“You will. You will because you’ll want to… because you’ll like the taste.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and speaking of taste…” I lay my hands on her thighs. “Tonight, I’m finally going to find out what you taste like.” She exhales softly, her breath warm with lust. “I’m going to eat you like no one ever has, like no one ever will, and by the end of it, you’ll be mine.”

“You sound
very
confident about that,” she whispers.

“I told you I’d make you scream my name, Ellie,” I whisper back.
“I meant it.
”

I raise a hand to the nape of her neck and she leans into my touch as I pull her forward to claim her lips. She shudders with the kiss, parting her mouth to massage my probing tongue with hers.

She lays her palms against my chest and adds pressure to push me away as my other hand travels beneath her skirt. I pull back and we both take a deep breath.

“Stop pretending you don’t want this…” I hook my thumb into her panties, “and spread your legs—”

“Not here,”
she warns, guiding me back again. “This room has really good acoustics.”

“Then where?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this…” She heaves a thick, reluctant sigh as she slides off the stage.

“Where’s your van?”

Chapter 12

Eliza

Junior grabs my hand and pulls me down the sidewalk, not caring at all who might see him do it.

Luckily, the campus is so full of life that no one seems to notice or care as we bound towards the parking lot across the quad. His fingers are wrapped so tightly around mine that I feel my blood pounding in my fingertips. It’s almost as if he’s scared I’ll back out at the last moment and I feel a twinge of satisfaction knowing how badly he wants this.

I don’t hesitate for a second after he slides his van door open. I step inside and he follows me in. The door isn’t even closed all the way before I feel his hands on my body, lying me down onto my back. He kisses me; hard and fast, sucking and nibbling at my lips until I feel pain while he pushes my sweater off my shoulders.