Beauty and the Running Back Read online

  I bite my lip, willing myself not to break into a million pieces in his loving arms. How can he still know the right thing to say even when I’ve kept him totally in the dark? For a second, I nearly lose control of myself and spill everything. I swear, I’m this close…

  “When do you have to leave for Boston?” he asks, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Allie’s heading up right after Christmas,” I say softly. He winces as the information lands. That’s less than two weeks away.

  “Will you still come to the Bowl?” he asks.

  “Of course I will,” I tell him, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Good,” he smiles, “I’m winning it just for you, after all. It’d be a shame if you missed out on it.”

  “You’re not rid of me yet, Crash,” I grin sadly, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

  “I never want to be rid of you, Cahill,” he replies, placing his hands on my hips. Even this simple closeness feels illicit with my family so nearby. “Here. Let me show you…”

  Dean

  I let one hand stray from Jessa’s hip into my coat pocket. With a knot in my throat the size of a softball, I take out the small gift box and place in her hands.

  “What’s this?” she breathes, looking up at me with those blue eyes I’ve come to love so goddamn much.

  “It’s your Christmas present,” I smile softly. “And also sort of a thank you present.”

  “I don’t really deserve a thank you present,” she smiles back, “I didn’t do any actual tutoring, after all…”

  “It’s not the fake tutoring I want to thank you for,” I murmur, “I want to thank you for… taking a chance on me. For getting to know me. I know I’m not exactly your type…”

  “You don’t have to thank me for that,” Jessa says, her eyes misting over, “Getting to know you… That’s been the real gift.”

  “Well, I hope you’ll accept this one anyway,” I laugh, glancing down at the little box in her hands.

  With a smile, Jessa eases open the box. Her eyes go wide as she stares down at the necklace resting on the velvet lining. It’s a simple silver chain that’s plain enough, but what it sports is the real gift. On the chain rests a vintage opal ring, with intricate golden filigree around the setting.

  “Dean…” Jessa breathes.

  “It was my mom’s,” I tell her, speaking around the lump in my throat, “She didn’t own much jewelry, but this ring was passed down from her mom, and her mom before that. I think it’s from the 1930’s? I don’t really know anything else about it, except that’s it beautiful. And that it was one of Mom’s favorites. It shouldn’t be in a box somewhere, gathering dust. She wouldn’t have wanted that. It should be worn by someone as beautiful as you. If you like it, that is.”

  “I love it,” Jessa whispers, laying her hand on my cheek, “Dean, it’s incredible. But are you sure…?”

  “I want you to have it,” I tell her, laying my hand over hers, “And my mom would have wanted you to have it too, if she could have met you. I just know it.”

  A single tear rolls down Jessa’s cheek as we stand in the darkened corner of the front porch. I brush it away with my thumb as I take her face in my hands.

  “I love you, Jessa Cahill,” I tell her adamantly, “And I want you to know that I’m here. Even when I can’t see you every day, or hold you every night, I’m here for you. And I will be for as long as you still want me.”

  “I love you too, Dean,” she smiles, the tears coming steadily now, “Now more than ever. God, you have no idea…”

  I bring my mouth swiftly to hers, catching her full lips in a kiss. Her body all but melts against mine as I hold her to me, trying to memorize the feel of her. These next few months are going to be torture without her, but I know I have to let her go. The easiest way to drive someone away is by holding on too tight. And there’s no way I’m going to risk that with Jessa. After all, a few months is nothing in the scope of the entire future. And I realize now that that’s exactly what I want with her.

  A future.

  PART II:

  Chapter Eight

  Spring

  ***

  Jessa

  “Oh my god,” I gasp, pressing my hands to my chest, “You are an angel.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Allie laughs, handing over the two boxes of Girl Scout Cookies she brought home for me. Samoas and Thin Mints. The perfect combination.

  I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, pushing my laptop aside as Allison sits down next to me. She laughs as I all but tear open the box of Thin Mints with my teeth.

  “You’re gonna get crumbs all over your belly,” she teases, grabbing a cookie for herself before I devour them all.

  I glance down at my rounded midsection. It’s already March, and I look every bit of those six months along, let me tell you. Allison lays a hand on my belly and lets out a laugh.

  “He must really like Girl Scout cookies,” she smiles, “He’s kicking away like a maniac.”

  “We don’t know that it’s a boy,” I remind her.

  “Yeah, I know. But I’ve got a hunch,” she replies, her eyes rapt on my belly as we both feel for the baby’s movements.

  Allison has been a godsend throughout this entire process. Even though I made a drastically different choice than her when faced with an unexpected pregnancy, she’s never tried to talk me out of my decision. With her medical know-how, she’s helped me take excellent care of myself and my baby, arranging checkups with the OBGYNs at her teaching hospital. And just as importantly, she’s helped me keep this a secret from everyone back at Rayburn. Our parents, my friends, and of course, Dean.

  “Are you still looking through potential families?” she asks, glancing over at my laptop. “I thought you would have clicked with one by now.”

  “There are so many to choose from,” I sigh, pulling the computer closer.

  I have two tabs open: one is a completed quiz for one of my online courses with Rayburn, the other is a directory of families looking to adopt a baby in the Boston area. Looking to adopt a baby like the one I happen to be currently carrying.

  “This couple seems nice,” Allison says, reading the profile of an attractive pair from nearby Brookline. “They both work in tech, went to Ivy League schools, eat organic…”

  “I just don’t know how you’re supposed to pick your baby’s future parents the same way people pick OKCupid dates,” I say sullenly.

  “You’ll know the right people when you see them,” Allie assures me, “Just trust your gut, you know?”

  “My gut can’t focus on anything except getting as many of these Thin Mints inside of it as possible,” I laugh, waddling after Allison as she heads for the kitchen. “How is it supposed to make the most important decision I’ve ever faced?”

  Allison’s apartment in Boston is small but incredibly homey. I’m still amazed at her selflessness in sharing this space with me, especially while she’s insanely busy finishing up her pre-med degree. Not everyone would go so far to help out someone in need—not even if that someone was a baby sister. I’ve been living here with Allison since right after the New Year. I told my parents the same story I told Dean, about the creative writing workshop at BU. Blaire even used her coding know-how to make a fake homepage for the workshop that I could point my parents to.

  I was a little nervous about leaving my mom alone with my dad, but he’s in the best spirits of his life these days. Just before I left town for Boston, the Rayburn Red Birds won their Bowl, thanks in large part to Dean. Words cannot describe how proud I was to watch him score the winning touchdown of that game. Or how heartbroken I was to have to leave so soon after. But even now, six months into this pregnancy and three months into me and Dean’s long distance relationship, I stand by my choice wholeheartedly. This is what’s best for everyone. That’s been my mantra since moving up to Boston. Getting pregnant at nineteen wasn’t exactly my plan, but I’ve got in under control.
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  Well. As much control as it could possibly be under, anyway.

  A Skype call starts ringing on my laptop, and I see that it’s Dean dropping a line. I hurry to carry the laptop over to my desk and dim the lights. By only filming myself from the shoulders up and making the lighting as terrible as possible, I can pretty easily hide the fact that I’m pregnant over Skype. Though who knows—if I get any bigger that probably won’t even work anymore. My chipmunk cheeks and insanely luxurious head of hair will give me away in a heartbeat. But in the meantime, it’s worth the effort to see Dean’s face smiling back at me through the computer screen.

  “Hey baby,” I smile, accepting the video call.

  “There’s my girl,” Dean grins back at me.

  He’s sitting on his bed, wearing a black tee shirt and jeans. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder… and the lust grow hotter. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones or what, but just the sight of him is enough to get me hot and bothered between the legs.

  “You haven’t turned into a popsicle up there in Boston yet,” he observes.

  “Nope,” I laugh, “That’s because I still get nice and hot every time I see you.”

  He groans longingly at my words. “You can’t crank me up from three states away. That’s just not fair.”

  I glance over to make sure my bedroom door is closed before going on.

  “You don’t want to know that I’m thinking about that big, gorgeous cock of yours?” I ask him, smiling through the camera, “That I can’t wait to feel it drive up inside of me again?”

  A wide grin spreads across Dean’s face as he steps off the bed. I hear his bedroom door close off screen, and when he steps back into frame I can already see his dick standing at attention in his jeans. Since I left for Boston, we’ve gotten very creative with our sex life. We sext like maniacs, trade dirty pictures (I took a million before I started to show, and have been doling them out little by little along the way), and of course, Skype sex.

  “You know I’ve been counting down the days until I can fill you up again,” Dean growls, unbuckling his belt.

  “I’m getting wet just thinking about it,” I breathe, slipping my hand between my thighs.

  “What if I was there to roll my fingertips over your clit?” he murmurs, “Just the way you like. Would that feel good?”

  “That would feel amazing…” I sigh, pressing two fingers to my hard, aching clit and rubbing away.

  I circle my slick pearl as Dean frees his cock from his jeans. His steady hand wraps itself around his thick shaft, working up and down as I lean into my own touch. My sex clenches in rich anticipation. Our eyes lock as we get ourselves off together, our new favorite thing to do in the world. Who says a little distance has to totally derail your sex life?

  My hand stops dead in its tracks as my baby send a huge kick into the side of my belly. For a brief second, I’m terrified that Dean might have seen it through the screen—but of course, he’s more than occupied. Still, I find myself unable to get back into the moment with Dean. Not because being pregnant has made it hard to get off or feel sexy, but because I’m starting to feel a little queasy about lying to Dean. He's the father of this baby, for god’s sake, and he doesn’t even know it exists. I know that keeping him in the dark for now is for his own good, but still. The guilt is starting to build up.

  I get my head back in the game, dirty talking Dean through his orgasm. It’s the least I can do, considering the fact that I’m off having our baby in secret. I remind myself that it won’t be a secret forever. I’m going to tell him when the baby is born. But that means I have to complete the seemingly impossible task of picking out an adoptive family before that happens. At least I still have three more months to think about all of this. I’m sure by the time the baby is actually born, I’ll have everything ready to go. What choice is there, really?

  “God, I miss you…” Dean breathes contentedly, after he’s cleaned himself up.

  “I miss you too,” I smile, “More than you can possibly know.”

  Will he still look at me with those same kind eyes after the truth comes out? I have no way of knowing. All I can do is bask in his love while it lasts, and be prepared for the fallout if—when—it comes.

  Chapter Nine

  Dean

  I make my way through a sea of scantily clad sorority girls, red plastic cup in hand. It’s the first night of spring break here at Rayburn, and the place is going wild. Buck and I have just arrived at the Sigma Nu house, where a Cancun-themed bash is underway. The tequila is flowing, the sorority girls are rocking the string bikinis they just broke out after a long winter, and I’m the reigning king of Rayburn University after bringing in our latest Bowl victory.

  And for all that, I still wish I was freezing my ass off up in Boston instead of being at this goddamn party tonight.

  Don’t get me wrong, the star treatment has been sweet. I’ve barely had to lift a finger in any of my spring semester classes, now that Ms. Warren’s class is over. I’ve been partying with my boys, having a grand old time now that we’re only playing spring games. And to top it all off, I’ve been getting some calls from scouts in the wake of our Bowl victory. A shot at the NFL has never seemed more likely.

  But as awesome as everything is going right now, every exciting or happy occasion is kinda dark around the edges. Every time something great happens, I have to think about how much better it would be if Jessa were here. I know that she had to go take that workshop at BU to grow as a writer. She’s shared some of the stories she’s written up there, and they’re totally amazing, so I know it’s worth the distance. But fuck. I’m glad no one told me how hard this was gonna be, or I may not have been able to let her go.

  “Hey you guys!” I hear Esther sing out from across the room.

  I glance up and see Esther and Noel heading over to me and Buck, cutting across the crowded room. They’re wearing matching bikinis in the Red Bird cheerleaders colors, and each carry gigantic mason jar margaritas. Noel’s red hair is gathered into a messy up do, exposing her long, cream-white neck. Even as she drapes herself across Buck, she keeps her eyes on me. I avert my gaze, knowing full well that part of the reason she finally agreed to date my best friend was to make me jealous. And I have to say, it’s working. I’m not jealous of Buck being able to screw Noel, I’m jealous of the fact that they get to be physically close. I’d kill to have Jessa as close to me as Noel is to Buck right now.

  “No Royce this evening?” Esther asks, looking around the room.

  “I thought you were done with that asshole?” I ask her, sipping my beer.

  “I mean, I am,” she sighs, “But I know he hasn’t gotten as much interest from the scouts and recruiters as he was hoping for after the Bowl. He must be pretty down about it.”

  “If he wanted more attention, he should have played a better game,” Buck shrugs.

  “Or stopped being a prick who’s allergic to hard work,” I add.

  Our quarterback has been sulking like a little kid all spring. I’m trying not to indulge in too much schadenfreude, but I have to admit that it’s hard not to enjoy his displeasure a little. Guys like Parker expect the world to be handed to them on a silver platter. Hell, I’m sure he’ll still have a great life working for one of his dad’s companies or some shit. But it’s guys like me and Buck, guys who’ve had to work for every scrap in this life, who are motivated to go the distance. And I, for one, intend to go all the way.

  “You’re looking a little bit down yourself, Crash,” Esther observes, cocking her head sympathetically. “Everything all right?”

  I shoot Buck a warning look, reminding him to keep his mouth shut. Me and Jessa’s relationship is still a total secret to everyone here at Rayburn, and I promised I’d keep it that way until she got back. It’s been hard as hell, only having Buck to talk to about missing her. He’s too busy getting it on with Noel to be a shoulder to cry on, most of the time. I know people are wondering why I’m not playing the f
ield as I used to, so I’ve just been telling them that I need to focus on my game for recruiters.

  That would be all well and good if my holding back in the sex department didn’t make every girl on campus all the more eager to “get through to me”. I’ve never been more pursued by more women than during these past three months, and that’s saying something. Even Esther has been turning on the charm a little more than usual, and she and I have never been anything but good friends. It’s like this whole damn school is conspiring to turn me into a cheating piece of shit. But fuck that, it’s not going to happen.

  “I’m gonna go grab a refill,” I tell Esther.

  She eyes my mostly-full plastic cup, eyebrows raised.

  “Sure. The keg is out back,” she tells me.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, making my way toward the back of the house.

  I step out onto the crowded outdoor patio, half-heartedly intercepting people’s greetings and attention, before continuing down into the grassy backyard. I find an abandoned stone bench away from the party and sink down onto it, throwing back a long swig of beer. What’s the point of being the star of your school when what you really want feels like it’s a galaxy away?

  “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to drink alone?”

  I look up to see Buck standing before me, looking as concerned as he ever does.

  “What’re you doing out here?” I ask, “I thought Noel had you on a much shorter leash than this.”

  “She lets me out for air sometimes,” Buck grins, sitting down beside me, “She’s a very compassionate master when she wants to be.”

  “Jesus,” I laugh, “I never thought I’d see the day Buck Wallace let himself be whipped.”

  “You should talk, bro,” he replies, “You’ve been walking around like the world is ending ever since Jessa left.”

  “It doesn’t feel like the world is ending,” I grumble, “It just feels like the world is… out to lunch until she gets back.”