Whiplash: A Sports Romance (6 page)

Her face twists. “Isn’t that what football is?”

“No,”
I argue. “Sports are about strategy and anticipating the opponent’s move before it even happens. I have to train hard to do what I do.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “And I don’t?”

I stand up taller. There’s no way I’m wrong about this. “I’m in the gym five times a week.”

“So am I. You’re going to stand there and argue that actors aren’t scrutinized over every bit of their appearance? Pound for pound, I’m probably judged more than you are.” 

“Okay…” I blink, yanked off course by the logic in her reasoning. “But my team counts on me to be in shape. I have to be where I’m supposed to be, when I’m supposed to be there, or we don’t win.”

“I have to hit every cue, memorize every word of my lines
plus
 everyone else’s,” she says, her voice steady as a rock. “I have to live and breathe this place for weeks before opening night because if I don’t, then everyone will notice every missed step, every skipped line, and my crew will judge me for it — same as you. You memorize a few plays, you stand out in the field every weekend, and you perform for the crowd. It’s the same thing.”

“But people respect and admire what
I
do a lot more than what
you
do,” I bite.

Eliza smiles. “Hate to break it to you, Junior, but this auditorium is
always
sold out. Can you say the same for that stadium out there?”

I open my mouth to argue but nothing comes out. My throat clenches shut, smacked down into submission with the slightest crack of her tongue.

“It’s the audience that gives it life, isn’t it?” she continues, her tone much softer. Almost
comforting,
as if she’s nursing a wound. “Grant and I were just rehearsing until you walked in and made it
real
. Without the crowd out there screaming you on, it’s just a scrimmage, am I right?”

Total fucking whiplash. “Right…”

She grins at me again and offers me her bottle of water. “See? Not so different.”

I take the water, feeling a sudden, dry thirst. “Yeah,” I concede. I twist the cap off and drink a hard sip.

“By the way…
thanks for programming your name into my phone as
Big Dick Morgan
because
that
wouldn’t be difficult to explain to my dad or anything…”

I crack up the instant she says it. “It was
funny
. You laughed, admit it.”

“You’re an ass.” She narrows her eyes. “I might have
tittered.
A little.”

“I’ll take it.” I hand the bottle back to her. “Shall we?”

“Depends on where we’re going.”

“I have a few off-campus ideas,” I tease. “It won’t get back to the coach, I promise.”

“You sure?” she asks.

I draw an X across my chest. “Cross my heart.”

Her eyes fall to my body and I know she’s thinking about earlier. Hell, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since her finger touched my dick. I nearly jerked off the second she left the locker room but I didn’t in favor of saving it for tonight in case she touches it again.

Who am I kidding? Of course, she’s going to touch it again tonight.

I’m Junior fucking Morgan.

“Let’s go,” I say, smiling at the thought of her fingers wrapped around it.

Chapter 6

Eliza

We step outside into the quad. It’s highly populated tonight, full of people enjoying the warm evening, hanging out and having fun. I pull the hood of my sweater over my head and slide my sunglasses on. The sun is long gone but I can’t risk being seen out with Junior. I even slow down to keep at least two paces behind him on the sidewalk.

Junior spins around and walks backward with his eyes on me. “Ellie, what the hell are you doing?” he asks, smiling wide.

“Turn back around,” I snap.

“You look like you’re casing the place.”

“I’m not
casing
, I’m being
cautious.
” He stops suddenly and I collide with his thick chest, nearly knocking the sunglasses off my nose.
“Junior—”

“Eliza Pierce!” he shouts. “Watch where you’re going, lady!”

I jump back, putting several feet of distance between us. “Knock it off!”

“See?” He gestures around. “Not a single person looked up.”

I hide under my hood, annoyance spiking inside.

This was a horrible idea from the start. I should have just spoken up in the locker room when Dad came in. Then I could have avoided this whole damn thing.

“Hey…” Junior takes a step back and tilts down to try and find my eyes. “I’m sorry, all right? That was kinda dickish.”

“Living up to your name,
Big Dick Morgan.
”

“There she is!” he laughs. “Look, I’m parked in G lot. We can split up and you can meet me there, if you want.”

I straighten up and slide my glasses off. “No, it’s okay. I’ll walk with you.”

He pauses, staring down at me with soft, concerned eyes. “You’re really freaked out by the idea of the coach finding out about this…”

“I just don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“He doesn’t…” Junior goes quiet, hesitating his words. “You know…
hurt you
on this bad side, does he?”

I shake my head. “No. God, no.
Never.
He can just be… difficult, I guess. He and I have been getting along pretty well lately. I just don’t want to…”

“Rock the boat,” he nods.

“Right.”

“Well…” He clears his throat and smiles at me. “Now I feel kinda bad about coercing you into going out with me tonight.”

I can’t tell whether or not he means it. His face still shines with that cocky confidence but his voice sounds sincere enough. “I could have told you to fuck off anytime, Junior.”

“You certainly could have…” he leans in a little, “but you didn’t.”

I flash back to him in that towel, remembering the pained lust in his voice when he leaned into me and how long it took for my fingers to stop vibrating after I touched him. “I suppose you’re about to enlighten me with what that tells you about me…”

His lips curl. “Oh, Ellie, I think you’re already well-aware of what that says about you.”

He’s so damn sure he’s getting laid tonight. It’s almost cute. “G lot, you said?”

We walk the rest of the way in silence and I keep a constant watch around us, darting around from face-to-face for anyone that might know my father.

Junior’s car sits in the corner of G lot and I start to relax more and more with each step we take from the high-populated campus hangouts.

I pause as we approach the vehicle, genuinely wondering whether or not he’s messing with me. It’s an old, white mini-van.

“
This
is your car?”

Junior grins. “You’re
definitely
new around here if you’ve never heard of the Junior-mobile.”

I blink. “The
Junior-mobile
?”

“I didn’t name it,” he claims. “The team did.”

“And what’s so special about the
Junior-mobile
?”

He grabs the side door and slides it open. “Take a look.”

I step closer, instantly noticing the lack of seats inside. It’s been completely modified, leaving the front seats intact but everything else has been stripped out and replaced with an air mattress on the floor — along with a few thick pillows and a wrinkled comforter. The windows are tinted and I notice a string of soft, blue lights pinned to the ceiling to set the mood.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not getting in this thing!”

“Why not?” he laughs.

“Because I’m clean and I want to keep it that way. God knows what
diseases
are lingering all over the walls…”

“It’s perfectly
safe and clean
… just like me, by the way.”

“Doubtful.”

“Play your cards right and you’ll be the
first
classy lady to grace the backseat this semester.”

I feign a gasp. “The great Junior Morgan hasn’t gotten laid yet this semester?”

“I didn’t say that,” he grins. “I said you’d be the first one
in the backseat
.”

I cross my arms and lean against the open door. “So, how does this whole
player
persona
work for you?”

“Player persona?”

“Yeah,” I continue. “You pick out a girl, drag her to the old
Junior-mobile
, score a touchdown or two, and then what?
Sayonara
, lady? Hope we don’t randomly bump into each other again?”

“You sound surprised, Ellie,” he notes. “I thought all of us were dirty, cheating, lying scoundrels.”

“Don’t you ever feel bad about it?”

“I’ve never been dishonest to a girl to get her in here,” he says. “I’ve never led anyone on, made a promise I didn’t keep, or done anything particularly shady to get laid. I make it clear from the beginning what I want and I’ve done the same with you.”

“Is that all this is?” I ask. “After tonight, you’re just hoping to scratch another notch into your floorboards?”

Junior chews on his bottom lip. “Honestly, yes.”

I scoff and push off the door, unable to hide my disgust.
“Wow…”

“Ellie…”
He takes a step forward. “Don’t even
pretend
like you’re not interested.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He drifts in so close, I start to smell his cologne again. I ease back but quickly find myself leaning against the van, struggling inside between smacking him or
accidentally
stumbling inside.

“I’ll tell you what…” he says, “I’ll give you another shot to tell me to fuck off. Then you can leave and I’ll never bother you again. Cross my heart.
But
…” He places his hands on the van door, pinning me to it just like he pinned me to the lockers and a rush of heat strikes my core. “If there is
any
chance at all that you want me as much as I want you, then you’ll get in the van and we’ll continue our little date like normal. Don’t lie.
I can tell.
”

My eyes fall down his body, drawn to his groin as if I’ll see his cock again; hard and throbbing for me. I close them, embracing the darkness as I feel him drift closer.

“Ellie…”

Holy shit. I love the way he says that.

“… say you’ll stay. With me.”

His lips graze my cheek, angling close to my mouth but they never quite connect, leaving a hair’s distance between us.

This fucking guy. He’s baiting me and it’s working, but I don’t want to be just another notch in Junior Morgan’s dirty van floorboards.

The bitch of it is that I don’t want to leave either. I
want
that cock from earlier; the one I touched and fantasized about. I
want
to watch his tattooed body towering over me, thrusting me into oblivion while I cry out in blissful agony and a man like him knows exactly how to make that happen.

But I’ve spent my whole life as the daughter of a narcissistic womanizer. I won’t be taken advantage of one now.

I open my eyes and look into his, watching as his pupils twitch in anticipation of my response.

“Let’s go,” I say, shifting away from his touch and walking around the van to get into the passenger’s seat.

You want to fuck me, Junior Morgan?

You’re going to have to earn it first.

***

“Why are you here?” Junior asks me.

I glance over at him, wrinkling my brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a transfer student, right?” He takes his eyes off the road for a split second to look at me. “You’re new and you’re taking three-hundred level courses.”

“Ahh,” I nod. “Welcome to the glorious world of P.R. representatives.”

He pauses in confusion. “What?”

“When my dad decided he wanted to become a coach, his public relations guy told him he should
revamp
his entire image,” I explain. “That meant shifting away from his old, immature, manwhoring ways and embracing a more
family-friendly
lifestyle to gain good press when his new job went public.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“Well, you can’t be family-friendly without a family,” I say. “He contacted me — or more accurately, his P.R. rep contacted me — and offered me a deal. If I came to live with him, pose nice for photos, and act the doting daughter, then Dad would continue paying for my education.”

Junior pauses, shifting his attentions back to the road ahead. “I guess that’s why he doesn’t want you involved with the team…”

“It could cause
unnecessary drama
, as he claims,” I confirm. Junior chuckles and I turn towards him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says. “It’s just so strange that we’re talking about
Cary Pierce
right now. I have
Cary Pierce’s daughter
in my van.”

“Why is that strange?”

“I mean… he’s your dad, you’re used to knowing him. But me? I had a damn poster of the guy on my bedroom wall as a kid and now he’s my coach. It’s a bit…
strange
.”