Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance (46 page)

“Right…” I nod but I don’t believe a word of it. “So, they still don’t know about us?”

He shakes his head. “No one knows anything… except Ty, obviously, but he’s not saying anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“If he was going to tell somebody, he would have by now. Trust me.”

I take a deep breath, feeling better but still annoyed — especially at my father’s dismissive remarks. Daughter or not, he obviously doesn’t give a shit about treating women with respect. Never has.

“Ellie…” Junior takes a step forward and lays his hands on my arms. “Are we cool?”

Small blooms of comfort travel up my body, reacting to his touch. “Of course, we’re
cool
,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You defended my freakin’ honor.”

He laughs and reaches across the table for his phone. “Good. Now that
that
nonsense is settled, I wanted to show you
this
.”

I try to sneak a peek while he taps and swipes but he quickly tilts the screen away from me. “What is it?”

“The TA posted our test grades this morning,” he answers, smirking.

I step closer. “Already?”

“Yup, and…”

I fidget with anticipation.
“And?”

He finally turns the phone to show me and my jaw drops.

“Ninety-two?!” I snatch the phone from his hand. “Junior, that’s awesome!”

“Best damn math grade I’ve ever gotten
in my life
,” he laughs. “All thanks to my lovely tutor.”

“I had nothing to do with it…”

“Bullshit.”

“This was all you, Junior.”

“And
you
,” he says. “I never would have had it in me without you… well… letting me
in
you.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Wait…” I pinch the webpage, zooming in and out to prove its authenticity.

“What?”

“Just making sure this wasn’t
manipulated
.”

He takes the phone from me. “It’s
real
, I swear,” he laughs.

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

“Good.” He leans in, chewing on his lip. “Now that
the hard part
is over… I suggest you pick up the biggest bottle of lube you can find, Eliza Pierce.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Uh-huh…” He grabs my arm and tugs me towards him, quickly spinning me around and I place my hands on the table in front of us. “Because… I’m going to own that field tomorrow and then I’m going to take you home with me and I’m going to own that ass, too.”

I swallow, instantly throbbing at his words. “Don’t get too
cocky
, Junior,” I whisper, craning my head back to look at him. “This team
slaughtered
you last year, as I recall.”

“Oh, they won’t this time,” he says, dripping with confidence. He inches forward, pressing himself against my rear and I melt for him. His hand slides up my thigh and disappears beneath my skirt. “Cross my heart…”

I grow tense as his hand slides over my ass and he taps a finger against the tight rosebud between my cheeks.

He kisses my neck, breathing heavily against my skin as he rubs it and I let out a soft moan.

“Let me feel it…”

He doesn’t ask questions, nor does he deny me.

I listen to his zipper fall and his familiar hardness slides between my cheeks. “Is this what you want?” he whispers.

“Yes.” I turn to feel his lips on mine but he refuses my kiss.

Junior smiles and pushes his tip against the entrance, just barely stretching it and all I want to do is scream his name.

He lets go and it falls away from me.

“Wait, more —”

“No…”
he says. “No, you’ll take it when I want you to take it, Ellie. I own you like I own that field every weekend. Say it.”

My muscles spasm, forever entranced by his perfect, dirty mouth. “You own me.”

He spanks me once and steps away, pushing himself back into his zipper. “We’ll continue this tomorrow night.”

“Maybe we will.”

“Meet me at my place after the game?”

“Actually…” I spin around, laying my skirt down. “We have an early rehearsal tomorrow, which means I’m free to
attend
the game.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“I may only catch the second half but that’s the only part that really matters anyway…”

His eyes narrow. “You’re going just to try and psyche me out, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I tease.

“It’ll take a lot more than that to rattle me on the field, Ellie. Once I’ve got my eye on the ball, nothing can stop me from getting it to the end zone.”

“Let’s hope so.” I kiss his cheek. “Because
my
end zone is
really
looking forward to your balls.”

Junior bites his lip. “That little mouth of yours… is
amazing
.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to stick my dick in it later.”

I crack up and shove him backward. “That was
so
weak.
”

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist…” He pauses, his gaze lingering on me for a long moment but I’m too busy staring back to count the seconds. “Coming over tonight?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Well, I don’t want you to get
bored
of me,” I joke.

“You’re right,” he smiles. “Don’t want to ruin a good thing.”

“Exactly.”

Junior grabs his backpack off the table and tosses it over his shoulder. “If I don’t see you between now and then, I’ll see you after the game.”

I nod. “After the game.”

“Bye, Ellie.”

“Bye, Junior.”

He steps out into the library and the door is barely even closed before I’m grinning like a fucking idiot. It’s one of those deep smiles, too; the kind that completely takes you over and refuses to let go until your face muscles can’t take it anymore and you end up feeling the pain for days.

Junior Morgan.
Of course, we’re cool. He defended my honor. That means something, right? Based on his reputation before me, I have to imagine that chivalry was low on his list of priorities. The fact that he took my side over his team has to
mean something
.

Or maybe I’m grasping at straws again. Maybe I’m so desperate to make something from nothing that I’ll cling to even the slightest of chances that there could be something there that resembles a real relationship. That didn’t go so well with my father. What makes me think Junior Morgan is any different?

A chill rolls down my back, the latest of many that have shaken me today.

I sit down at the table and wait for it to pass.

Chapter 19

Junior

I lied.

Thinking about Eliza Pierce sitting out there in those bleachers is
absolutely
psyching me out.

She’s there right now, watching every hike, every toss, every move I make and she’s going to notice if I fumble even the smallest screw-up.

I scan the crowd again, searching for her long, brown hair but I can’t look for very long before I have to get my head back in this game.

My eyes jump to the scoreboard and I cringe.

We are losing by eight points and there’s only one minute left in the game.

I look at my teammates and I see it on their faces, just as they can probably see it on mine.

It’s over.

The ref blows the whistle, signaling a time-out and I hear Cary Pierce bellow out my name from the sidelines. He waves me over and I sprint to meet him.

“What’s wrong, Junior?” he asks.

I stare at him through my face guard, hoping he can’t read the dirty thoughts running through my mind. “We’re losing.”

“So?” he shrugs. “Losing happens in your head first, not the other way around.”

“There’s less than a minute left, Coach,” I point out. “There’s no way we can—”

“No.”
He shakes his head. “That’s plenty of time for a touchdown and a two-point conversion — that will tie us up and we’ll wipe them out in overtime.”

I pause and look over my shoulder at the field. He’s not wrong but it’s a risky play, especially with us sitting fifteen yards outside the red zone.

He knocks on the side of my helmet. “Get out of here. Get in here.” He lays a firm finger against my chest. “You know what I’m seeing right now?”

“What?”

“
Weakness.
It’s all over your damn face and I can guarantee they see it, too — and I’m not talking about the other team. I’m talking about
yours
, Junior. The quarterback falls and the rest follow. What are you going to do about it?”

I chew on my inner cheek. “I think—”

He knocks hard against my helmet again.
“Get out of here.
What are you going to do?”

My mind goes dark, surrounded by an ether of cold nothingness and I can’t for the life of me see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I see Eliza’s face instead, standing out amongst the dark gray wisps.

“I’m going to fake the hand-off,” I say through sudden clarity. “Put the focus on the halfback and run it in myself.”

He smiles. “Then go do it.”

I turn around and rush back out onto the field, igniting screams in the crowd around us. A little bit of that pure adrenaline fires through my limbs and it never stops tingling, even as we huddle up and I watch the look of shock on the team’s faces morph into a powerful confidence.

We’re going to fight this — right down to the very last second.

Suddenly, the idea of Eliza Pierce watching over my shoulder isn’t so bad.

My team stands in formation, creating phantom twitches to their left, making it as obvious to the other team as possible.

“Hike!”

The center snaps the ball back and I catch it, twisting around to lay it into John’s cradled arms — but I tuck it beneath mine instead.

John sprints to the left, taking half the offensive line with him and the defense falls for it.

I bolt to the right, slipping around them with the ball safely in my hands, and the crowd explodes.

A few of the other team notice, jutting out to grab me but I’ve already gained the momentum to dart right through them.

With the end zone in sight, I pick up my speed, running on pure adrenaline all the way to the goal. Ty rushes in after me, slamming against me in celebration but the game isn’t over yet.

There’s still a two-point conversion to worry about.

I look at the crowd, once again looking for her face but I still can’t find her.

We head to the three-yard line. If we don’t nail this play, then the game is over. We lose.

And I’ll never hear the end of it from Eliza.

“Just pop it up,” Ty shouts, pounding once on his chest. “We’ll catch it.”

He rushes to the end of the line with the rest of the wide receivers and I fill my lungs with hot, humid air.

“Hike!”

The next few moments blur past me. I feel the ball in my hands. I see the rage of the defensive linemen, just as determined to win as we are not to lose. I smell the turf beneath me and feel the crushing weight on my chest. Multiple tackles crash in front of me and my team falls.

I let the ball fly from my fingers, arching high up towards the center of the end zone. It spins downward and a dozen hands launch into the air, so many that I can’t even tell who is who.

Finally, the whistle blows and Ty stands up with the ball clutched in his hands.

Holy shit.

I look at the scoreboard and watch the numbers tick up with wide eyes. Tie game. I lock eyes with Cary Pierce, feeling that insane rush from my head to my toes.

We’ll wipe them out in overtime.

You bet your ass we will.

***

They didn’t stand a chance.

Cary Pierce promised everybody that they’d know my name. This season, we’d get their attention. Next season, we’d keep it. The man knows his shit, I’ll tell you that.

“Junior! Junior! Junior!”

I stand on the sidelines, submerged in complete shock and awe while they chant my name over and over again.

By now, the entire city knows of our victory — especially with the amount of screaming threatening to tear the stadium down — but there’s only one person that I care about celebrating with.

I keep looking through the crowd, hoping to catch sight of her but Eliza Pierce is still nowhere to be found.

Finally, my eyes land on a familiar face near the bottom of the bleachers, leaning casually against them and watching with great interest as the team pass by him.

Grant holds up his hand as Ty draws closer. “Good game, Mr. Fisher!” he shouts.

Ty slaps his hand. “Thanks, man!”

I pause in front of Grant but he doesn’t seem to notice I’m here. His eyes are too busy over his shoulder, locked on Ty’s rear end.

“Hey, Grant!”

His eyes flick in my direction. “Oh, hey, Lover Boy.” He nods. “Did you see that? Ty gave me a high-five.”

“I saw.”

“I’m making progress.”

I smirk. “Is Eliza with you? She said she’d be at the game today.”

He shakes his head. “She went home.”