Beauty and the Running Back Page 9

  “I… I don’t know…” she says quietly, sinking back on her heels, “I think things are going well just the way they are, don’t you?”

  “Well sure,” I say, sitting on the bed next to her, “But it’s not like we can keep this a secret forever.”

  “Why not?” she laughs, trying to sound lighthearted. But I can hear the desperation ringing loud and clear in her voice.

  I sit with my hands on my knees, trying not to be hurt. Trying and failing, that is.

  “Is it just that you’re embarrassed for people to know, or what?” I ask her, swinging my eyes her way.

  Her blue-green eyes go wide.

  “It’s not like that at all,” she insists.

  “Then I just don’t get it,” I say roughly, “From where I’m sitting, it seems like you just don’t want the rest of the school to know that you’re with some big, dumb jock like me.”

  “You know that’s not how I think of you,” she replies, hugging her knees into her chest. “I mean, if anyone was going to be embarrassed about coming out as a couple, it would logically be you. The star running back and some artsy writer-type who usually has potting soil under her finger nails?”

  “Except I’m not the one who’s pushing to keep this a secret,” I remind her, “You are.”

  “I know. You’re right.”

  “So?” I demand, “Why don’t you want to go public? I need to understand.”

  Jessa’s eyes mist over with tears as she sits beside me on the bed, and at once I feel like a complete asshole.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter, “I just… I care about you so much, Jessa. And I’m proud to be with you. I want to be able to be with you all the time, not just when we can sneak away.”

  “I get that,” she says quietly, blinking away her tears, “I’d love to be able to be with you all the time, too. To let the world know about this incredible thing we have. If we were at another school, if I wasn’t living at my parents’ house, if my dad wasn’t a rage-filled asshole…”

  “Why are you so afraid of him, Jessa?” I ask, taking her hand in mine, “I mean, you’re a grown woman. Why should it matter whether your dad approves of your love life?”

  “You haven’t known my dad very long,” she says, her eyes snapping up to mine, “And the only contact you’ve had with him is on the football field, where anger and aggression are normal. Well, I can tell you that for Nathan Cahill, the anger and aggression don’t end when he hits the showers.”

  “What are you telling me?” I ask, feeling my own anger boiling to a simmer. “He doesn’t… He isn’t violent with you, is he?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Jessa says, shaking her head, “He’s never hit me or my sister. God knows what he does to my mom behind closed doors, but… His violence is always mental. Emotional. He can be a cruel sonofabitch when he’s angry, Dean. And if he were to find out that you and I had been seeing each other behind his back, it wouldn’t just be he’d be out to punish.”

  “I’m not afraid of your father,” I growl, taking her hands in mine, “And I wouldn’t be afraid to lock horns with him over you.”

  “And what if he were to give you less playing time? Bench you? Kick you off the team for some made up reason?” she presses, “What would you do then?”

  “He can’t afford to bench me,” I grin assuredly, “He needs me on the field too much.”

  “Maybe,” Jessa laughs quietly, “But he’d find other ways to hurt you. To hurt the both of us. I just don’t think it makes any sense to risk him finding out, Dean. I really don’t.”

  “Well… What would it take to make him approve of us being together then?” I ask.

  “I honestly don’t know,” she sighs, “I can’t see how he’d ever get over me being with one of his players. He just has this huge mental block against it. I mean, he’s against me or Allison being with any guy. If it was one of his players, he’d just feel doubly betrayed.”

  “What if I went about it his way?” I ask, “You know… All proper and shit?”

  “Proper? You?” Jessa smiles, nudging me with her shoulder.

  “Sure!” I exclaim, “Why not?”

  “You are many things, Dean,” she goes on, “Honorable. Loyal. Sexy as fuck. But proper? You are not.”

  “Maybe you’ve just never seen the proper side of me before,” I grin, wrapping my arms around her waist and wrestling her playfully onto her back. She laughs as I pin her hands up above her head.

  “Because I love your improper side so much,” she grins back, grinding her hips lightly against mine.

  My cock throbs eagerly as she rubs against me. I press my hips forward, letting her feel the length of my hard rod against her slit. She sucks in a breath as she feels how ready I am to take her.

  “I’ll be plenty improper with you tonight,” I mutter, biting along her ear as I keep my stiff cock pressed against her hole, “But I’m telling you… I think putting on the Good Christian Boy act might work with your folks.”

  “One, don’t talk about my folks while your cock is pressed against my pussy,” she grins mischievously, “And two, you’re about as far from a Good Christian Boy as they come.”

  “You’ll just have to tutor me in that too,” I growl, lifting her tee shirt over her head. I groan as I see that she’s not wearing a bra underneath.

  “I’m not wearing any panties either,” she breathes, as if reading my mind.

  “I fucking love you,” I growl, laying my hand on her cheek.

  She blinks up at me in the near-darkness, and I realize what I’ve just said. Jessa and I have told each other that we care about each other plenty of times, but we’ve never used that word before. Love. I didn’t even plan on using it tonight, it just sort of slipped out. But the second it crossed my lips, I knew that it was true. We may only be a few months in, but I know I love this woman. I just hope I didn’t spook her by saying so too soon…

  “Dean,” Jessa breathes, laying a lingering kiss on my palm before turning her eyes back to me, “I fucking love you too.”

  We laugh with lusty delight as we tear off the rest of each other’s clothes. Jessa climbs on top of me and rides me with utter, delirious abandon. The sex we have that night is better than any we’ve had before—and trust me, that’s saying something. Maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with the fact that we’re not just fucking anymore. We’re making love.

  Jesus, listen to me. This being-in-love thing is turning me into a softie. Good thing Jessa makes me hard as a rock every time she as much as walks into a room. I guess things balance out, in the end.

  Jessa

  Not even the impending East Coast winter can ruin my good spirits as December sets in at Rayburn University. I finish my first semester of college with a 4.0 GPA, a handful of lovely close friends, and a nice long winter break to look forward to. Oh, and a sexy, compassionate, soulful (did I mention sexy?) man in my life. All told, I’d say this whole college experiment is going pretty well. I’m even feeling better physically about myself than I ever have before. I admit, the freshman fifteen is starting to creep up on me, but it’s landing in all the right places—namely my boobs and ass—so I don’t mind one bit.

  After Thanksgiving, which I will forevermore associate with Dean and I saying “I love you” for the first time, we started seriously talking about taking our relationship to the next level. Namely, actually telling people about it. I advised Dean to get through the last game of the regular season with my dad before we made any serious moves. Not only did the Rayburn Red Birds get through their last game, they absolutely killed it. That means that Rayburn will be playing in another bowl just before Christmas. I never knew what it was like to be proud of a sports team before this, but damn if I’m not over the moon for those guys.

  And one guy in particular…

  As Dean and I brainstorm about how to get my dad onboard with us being together, the first semester officially draws to a close, and winter break begins. And in the Cahill house, that
means quarters are going to be more cramped than ever. Not only will my dad and I be home more often without our school and work obligations, we’ll also have another person haunting the halls altogether—my sister, Allison. This is her last year of college and her last winter break that she’ll be spending at home with us before med school eats her life.

  Allison and I may have our differences, but she’s always been a fantastic big sister to me. From killer hand-me-downs to excellent advice, Allison has had my back from the start. And right now, I could definitely use her in my corner. I practically fly down the stairs when she and dad arrive home from the train station, all but knocking her flat as I throw my arms around her in a big bear hug.

  “Someone’s happy to see her big sis, huh?” Allison laughs, picking me up off my feet and spinning me around.

  “And then some,” I laugh, at she sets me down, taking in the sight of me with something approaching awe.

  “Damn, Jessa. You look incredible,” Allison gushes, giving me an admiring once-over, “My scrawny little sister is no more!”

  “Guess you didn’t steal all the T&A from the gene pool,” I laugh, helping her carry her bags upstairs as dad walks in the door behind her.

  “I don’t want to hear any talk of T&A in this house,” Dad snaps after us, “You hear me?”

  Allison and I giggle softly to ourselves, ducking into the guest bedroom to get her all set up. I’d forgotten how much easier it is to tolerate my dad’s shit as a team. It helps that Allison is daddy’s little girl—she could always get away with anything and still come out smelling like roses to him. That may have made me resentful at some point, but now her powers of persuasion and smoothing-over might just come in handy.

  “Damn! Rayburn really knows how to treat its coaches,” Allison exclaims, flopping onto the guest bed, “This house is beautiful.”

  “Yep. We’re living that D1 life now,” I smile, laying down next to her, “And I’m certainly not complaining.”

  “You’re doing OK here then?” Allison asks, rolling onto her side to face me, “I have to say, I was kind of shocked to hear that you were voluntarily moving back in with Mom and Dad after getting a taste of freedom last year. And coming to a party school like Rayburn, no less…”

  “It’ll be worth it to not have any student loans,” I tell her, “You can afford to take on some debt, knowing you’ll be able to pay it off when you’re a doctor. But I’m trying to be a writer, remember?”

  Allison chuckles, tucking a long lock of chestnut hair behind her ear.

  “No, I think it’s a good call,” she says, “As long as you’re happy here.”

  “Rayburn has been a pleasant surprise,” I tell her honestly, “I actually really like all my classes, I’ve made some awesome friends, and… my love life isn’t doing too shabbily either.”

  Allison sits up like a bolt at this last bit of information.

  “You’re going to have to elaborate on that one,” she says, kneeling beside me on the bed, “Are you seeing someone?”

  “I am,” I reply, grinning like a lunatic. It feels so nice to say so out loud. “It’s been going on for a few months now and it’s… incredible.”

  “What’s his name?!” Allison asks eagerly.

  “It’s… Dean,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper, “Dean Carter.”

  “Why are you whispering?” she asks, “Is he a professor or something?”

  “Worse,” I tell her, “He’s Dad’s running back.”

  My sister’s mouth falls into a surprised “o”.

  “You’re dating a football player?!” she exclaims.

  “Keep your voice down!” I plead.

  “Sorry, I’m just surprised is all,” Allison says, “You’ve always gone for the artsy, sensitive types.”

  “I know. But what can I say? Dean’s just… something else,” I say dreamily.

  “Damn. No wonder you look so radiant. You’re in love!” Allison croons.

  “You know what? I am,” I tell her, “And it’s awesome. There’s just one little thing…”

  “What’s that?”

  “Nobody except you and like two other people knows about us,” I reply.

  “Because of Dad,” Allison says.

  “Because of Dad,” I confirm, “But Dean has a plan to get around Dad’s bullshit. We’re gonna try to beat him at his own game.”

  “How?” Allison asks, genuinely curious, “Cause you know I’ve never had any luck getting Dad to accept a boy who even smiled at me back when I was a cheerleader. Especially not the football players.”

  “Well, Dean already kind of laid the ground work by getting Dad to suggest that I tutor him in English,” I go on, “So we’re just gonna turn up the heat. Go through all the antiquated suitor nonsense. You know, the kind of stuff Dad would flip for. We’re gonna start the campaign tomorrow night.”

  “What’re you gonna do, sit on the porch swing sipping lemonade?” Allison asks.

  “If that’s what it takes!” I laugh, “This thing between me and Dean is too important to give up on just because of Dad’s unreasonable world view.”

  “Hey, if it’s love, I say go for it,” Allison smiles, “Just let me know if I can help.”

  “Oh, you know I will,” I tell her, standing up to go, “I’ll let you get settled in!”

  “Hey, before you go,” Allison says, starting to unpack, “Do you have a couple tampons I could borrow? I totally forgot to pick some up before I left.”

  “Sure thing,” I say, and head down the hall to the bathroom.

  Closing the door behind me, I open the cabinet beneath the sink and reach for my ever-present box of tampons. But instead, my fingers close around thin air. I peer into the cabinet, and sure enough my tampons are nowhere to be found. Just the gigantic pads my mom prefers to use. I rack my brain, trying to remember where I put my stash. Oh, that’s right, I think to myself, I used up the last of them during my last period…

  Back in September.

  My stomach flips on itself as I think back through the months, praying that I’ve made some kind of mistake. I remember getting my period right before Dean and I had sex for the first time, just after our first attempt that was so rudely interrupted by my parents coming home early from church. But surely that can’t have been the last time… right? I leap to my feet, shoving my hands through my blonde hair as I pace the narrow bathroom.

  “Don’t freak out, don’t freak out,” I mutter to myself, “Sometimes the pill can screw with your cycle. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about…”

  Unless it most definitely is.

  I pad back down the hallway to Allison’s room, trying not to burst into tears.

  “We need to go to the drug store,” I tell her from the doorway.

  My big sister takes one look at my pale face, drops what she’s doing, and goes to get the keys to my mother’s car.

  Dean

  With a low, guttural grunt, I thrust my weights straight up into the air one last time. Buck, my spotter, guides the bar onto the rack as I sit up, my muscles aching in the best way. The Red Birds are training like motherfuckers in the lead up to our Bowl. We’ve been spending hours in the weight room, making sure that we’re in the best shape possible before our big game. Between the adrenaline leading up to the game and my excitement about finding a way to actually be out as a couple with Jessa, I have plenty of energy to pump into my training.

  “Benching 225 ain’t too shabby,” Buck says, as we trade places. “Especially not for a sprightly little running back like yourself.”

  “Fuck you, man,” I laugh, giving him a light punch in the gut. “Let’s see how much you can bench.”

  Nothing can ruin my good spirits these days, not even the ribbing of my best friend. Tomorrow night, I’m gonna swing by Jessa’s house and start laying on the proper suitor bullshit for her parents. They’re gonna eat that crap up, I know it. Before long, Jessa and I will be able to be a real couple here on campus.

 
; As I’m getting ready to spot for Buck, I hear Royce’s drawling voice from across the weight room. Usually I just tune the rich fucker out, and today is no exception. Until, that is, I hear him utter the phrase, “The coach’s daughter…”

  I whip around to find Royce running his mouth as he waits for a turn on the leg press.

  “Seriously though, have you seen her?” he’s saying to a group of our teammates, “I mean, the hair, the eyes, that ass you could bounce a quarter off of. I’d give anything to tap that.”

  “Crash,” Buck mutters, standing up and grabbing hold of my elbow, “Keep it together, man. It’s just Royce being an idiot.”

  “I wonder if she’s a virgin?” Royce muses, while the other guys guffaw idiotically all around him, “She just looks like she’d be tight as hell, right? Hey, only one way to find out—”

  My field of vision starts to go white at the edges as blinding rage roils in my gut. I haven’t lost my temper in quite some time. But right now…

  “Just imagine what a pretty picture that would be,” Royce groans, “Jessa Cahill’s pouty little mouth wrapped around your cock like—”

  My forearm slams against Royce’s throat before he can finish his sentence. I’m holding him slammed up against the weight room wall, his eyes wide and wild as I snarl in his pretty fucking face.

  “What the hell, Crash?” he splutters, barely able to get the words out.

  “That’s our coach’s daughter,” I growl as his face turns red, “Show a little fucking respect, you prick.”

  I let Royce go roughly, letting him stagger forward as he gasps for air. Before anyone can stop me, I storm out of the weight room like an angry bull. As much as Royce had it coming to him, the intensity of my rage takes me by surprise. I haven’t let myself get this mad since I was in high school. Since then I’ve learned to control it, put it all into the game. I guess there’s just been too much emotion coursing through me lately to keep it all inside until I’m on the field. Maybe once me and Jessa go public as a couple and win her dad over, I’ll be able to relax a little. Let some of this steam vent without doing any harm to my teammates. It’s mid-December already, so I only have to wait a little while longer. Not that I regret what I just did to Royce. You can’t talk about a girl like Jessa that way and not expect to get a little fucked up. Not on my watch, anyway.