Quarterback Bait (17 page)
Authors: Celia Loren
Ash
Carson looked out of her element in a football stadium, to
say the very least. Anya, for her part, was blending in with aplomb. My
mother's face had healed entirely, and on the surface she seemed just about
back to her gung-ho, pleasantly nutty self. She waved a big, borrowed foam
finger in one hand—something she'd lifted from “the very nice man” in the row
in front of us. Carson and I exchanged heavy eye rolls every time she tilted
her head forward to laugh at one of the goober's Dad jokes—but we didn't really
mean anything by it. It was mostly just nice to see her laughing again.
“Do we get to sing in football?” Carson asked me. “
One,
two, three strikes you’re out?
Or is that tennis?” A few rows down, some
incredulous-looking Longhorn fans turned to shoot us dirty looks. My
half-sister just waved a bejeweled hand, high on her own dumb joke.
I'd been edgy for most of this family date so far. Though I
was thrilled to be out and about with my motley crew (not to mention super surprised
when Anya had suggested this morning that we all go see a UT game) I wasn't
sure how well I'd be able to hide my feelings once Landon came out of
his...dugout, or whatever they called it. Already, Carson had nearly caught me
and the boy several times. I wasn't any good at lying to her face. And there
was still the uncomfortable fact of poor, sweet Nate Dempsey, who I'd broken up
with on her stoop that very morning, without offering anyone an explanation.
“Stop being weird,” my sis repeated now, elbowing me so some
of my popcorn sloshed out of its red and white striped box. To my left and far
left, Lotte and Melanie played with their phones, ignoring our family business.
“You're doing it again. Everything's going to be fine, you know. The soon-to-be-ex-step-monster
is doing his daily course of anger management as we speak. You've done all you
can. Chips are falling where they may.”
“It's not that.”
“Then,
what
?”
Anya hooted at something else the “nice man” said. It was
then that the cheerleaders—in their infuriatingly tiny outfits—took to the
field. Around us, the crowd began to roar. Any minute now, UT's chosen son
would be coming out to claim what felt like the whole world's attention.
And yet, he loved
me.
Of all these thrilled, waiting,
fans—
I
was the one he'd be looking for. The thought made my breath catch
in my chest. I felt huge. Bigger than the Jumbo Tron.
“I'll tell you later, C. I promise.”
“Is it school?”
“No.”
“Is it…”—Carson ducked her head and lowered her voice in the
direction of my other companions—“…friends?”
“Obviously not, dum-dum. You are basically my only friend.”
“Oh, har-dee-har-har.”
“Shhh!” Anya said, turning to us with an unexpected
sharpness. “Babies, the game is starting! Woo, woo!”
It was then that I heard the beginnings of a skirmish in our
section of the stands. The Longhorns, in their orange and white stripes, were
running onto the field below—but all around us, heads were turning backward.
Someone was thwacking his way through the crowd, down towards our little area. It
didn't take a genius.
“That's not
him,
is it?” Carson murmured in my ear.
“Jesus, kid. I figured you could be discreet for at least a while. Anya's
barely...” But I couldn't hear the rest of her speech over the roar. People
were standing, all around us, obscuring my view. I could no longer be sure.
“
A-DRIAN!!!
” he called. That's how I knew for sure.
(I mean, speaking of Dad jokes.) People started to titter around us. I was
dimly aware that on the field below, the cheerleaders had ceased their cheers.
By the time I'd crawled up on my chair to scan for his face,
he was just a few rows away—apparently following the guiding light that was
Anya's borrowed finger. Fans were shrieking, queuing for autographs. But the
minute his eyes found mine, it was like we were the only people in that stadium
of thousands.
“Landon!” I waved. It was a strange and unexpected joy, to
shout his name out in a crowd. We'd had to be secret for so long. Finally,
suddenly, he was at the edge of our row. He could speak to me over the heads of
the wide-eyed Lotte and Melanie. I stood, then attempted to scooch past my
friends and into the aisle.
“Something's come up,” he told me, when I reached him. The
stands shushed around us. I tried not to think of my mother's face behind me,
and what she might be thinking. “I can't play today. Or, maybe—probably—ever
again.”
“FUCK NO!” someone cried. The chorus latched on. People
started to boo and hiss. Notably, the “nice man” of Anya's acquaintance led the
attack.
“I was faced with a fucked-up ultimatum, they basically made
me chose: you or football…and I had to pick my girl!” Landon shouted at the
stands. That seemed to shut everyone up, for a second. Then someone behind me
cooed:
Awww.
“But here's the thing. We might have to Bonnie and Clyde this
shit. I mean—some people are threatening legal action. Against me.” It didn't
seem at all appropriate, but he grinned a sheepish grin.
“Oh. Shit.”
“Yeah. It's bad. But, you know...you play the cards you're
dealt, right?” He looked at me with expectant eyes. The University of Texas
looked at me with expectant eyes.
I must've been stone-cold crazy. I mean,
bad
was the
tip of the iceberg. For a second, what stretched in front of us was only a
world of hassle—court testimonies and mediation, divorce papers, counseling,
possibly transferring schools...but then, there were his stupid eyes, his
stupid chin, and his stupid face, looking at me irresistibly.
“Fuck it,” I breathed. Ignoring the looks from the crowd, my
friends, my sister, my mom—the rest of the world melted away. “We'll be bad
together.”
A smile spread wide across his face and he jumped up into
the stands, climbing over people and taking the bleachers two rows at a time.
As I stood to meet him, he grabbed me around the waist and picked me up in a crushing
embrace, pressing his lips against mine.
“I love you, Doll.” He said over the cheering crowd.
“I love you too.”
“Let’s do this.”
THE END
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My 18th birthday gift was moving in with two of the
hottest, cockiest guys I’d ever met.
Austen and Logan Riggens, my new stepbrothers, my walking
nightmares. They’re both older than me, they’re both MMA fighters, and to
describe them in a few words…they're charming, assertive, know-it-all,
a**holes.
It’s like an unwritten rule in their house that they walk
around without shirts on. Teasing me, mocking me, trying their best to make me
squirm.
They don’t care that our parents are practically married,
or that it’s totally unacceptable to steal a kiss from me as we pass in the hallways,
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Chapter Fourteen
When we get closer to our neighborhood, I fall back. I’ve
been following Logan home, staring at the back of his head as he drives in
front of me on the highway. Now that I know where I am, I turn left as he
continues home. I don’t want to arrive back at the house too close to him, both
so as not to arouse suspicion and so that we won’t be alone when we pull into
the garage and walk up to our respective bedrooms.
I drive aimlessly through the residential streets. My skin
feels like it’s on fire. That kiss, though it couldn’t have been more than a
few seconds long, was something else. My body reacted so immediately to his,
all of my nerves endings lighting up at once.
I pull over and rest my head on the top of the steering
wheel.
No, Cat. No, absolutely not.
It’s just because Logan is
forbidden, that’s it. That’s where these feelings are coming from. It’s already
complicated enough, to be dating your mom’s boyfriend’s son, while living in
the same house. Giving way to any kind of illicit attraction to said son’s
brother? That would just be beyond the pale.
I take a deep breath and start home. I think I’ve given
Logan a sufficient head start. When I press the garage door button clipped to
the passenger seat visor, I’m dismayed to see Logan just stepping out of his
car. He just got back, too. He glances up, squinting against the sudden
brightness, and then looks away when he sees it's me. As I pull into the last
remaining space just next to him, I watch him shift his weight toward the door,
then stop. I turn off my engine and step out, nervously chewing my lip.
