Offside (Pro-U Book 2) (7 page)

Chapter 10

Jacob

"Warm up laps. Go. Now." One of the coaches for FC Boston cupped his hands over his mouth and called out to all of us standing around making introductions. It was nice to already be known for some of my former accomplishments, but with that recognition came expectation too.

Nervousness danced around in my belly as I turned and started to run alongside the rest of the guys gathered there for our first summer practice.

"Hey. I'm Clint." A guy about my size and weight reached out his hand to me as we bounded along.

"Jacob." I shook it. "You from around here?"

"Yeah, I actually go here at Mount Ida." He gave me a crooked smile.

"Awesome." I tried to get back into the groove, but the guy wouldn't stop talking. He was a year younger than me and seemed to have a man-crush of sorts. Shaking him was going to be harder than trying to explain to one of the slutty girls at the Omega House why I didn't date.

"Line up." Coach motioned for us to join him on the side of the field. "Wright, you and Jackson are my blue forward, Daily, Marks, Pennington and James, you're blue midfield..."

I jogged toward the field and didn't wait to hear who would be on defense for my side. Clint jogged up beside me and lifted his hand as if to give me a high-five.

"Looks like me and you buddy."

"I'll take the lead." I hit his hand and took my position, ready to exert some energy and remind myself that I wasn't a worthless piece of shit. The events at the Omega House Friday morning left me questioning everything about myself. Someone in the frat had set us up and brought in date rape drugs for one of two reasons; to rape someone, or to make it look like I was trying to.

The whistle blew and the scrimmage started, stealing my thoughts and saving me from myself. I moved through the green team’s strikers and midfield before passing it to Clint. I had expected him to try and score for our side, even with a less than clear path to the goal, but he kicked it back my way. I didn't hesitate as I twisted toward the goal and kicked with all my might.

"Goal for the blue team. Just because they have Wright doesn't mean they’re going to automatically win. Remember. You're all here for a reason." Coach moved up to the sidelines and gave me a big grin. "Show him what you're made of and why he should play his ass off for us this summer."

A chuckle went around the group as we jumped back into it.

Two hours later with sweat drenching my entire body, and my heart racing, the game was over. The blue team had smoked the green, but everyone blamed that on me. I wasn't going to tear up about being the scapegoat, but I owed Clint an apology. He'd set me up for the score almost every time without fail.

"Hey." I walked over to him and lifted my hand in the air. "Fucking amazing job out there today. You didn't have to spot me like you did."

He hit my hand and smiled. "Yeah, I did. We're on a team, and you're the better scorer. I'll pull out some ninja shit soon, but today was about you."

"All right." I turned to find Micah jogging around the track not too far from where we were. He'd been good enough to ride up to Mount Ida with me that morning, but we'd not spoken much thanks to me sleeping over the forty-minute drive.

Coach put his hands on his hips and glanced around. "Good job. Shower up and get out of here. We'll see you guys again on Monday."

I walked toward the field, stopping only to pick up my water bottle and towel. Basketball season would be starting soon, and Micah would be in his element. He was the shortest guy on the team, but one of the best damn point guards in New England. His dreams of going to the NBA seemed very doable from my seat in the stands.

"Hey. You ready?"

He stopped and turned to face me, panting loudly. "You guys done already? I was just getting warmed up."

"Yeah, you beast. Let's go. We'll grab something to eat on our way back to Providence."

"I had oatmeal this morning." He brushed the back of his arm across his head and walked toward me. "You didn't eat, did you?"

"No. Lay off me, mother." I smiled and turned to walk with him toward the car. "Thanks for letting me sleep this morning."

He snorted. "As if I had much of a choice. You tossed the keys at me and said, 'here fucker. You drive’."

I smiled and shook my head. "Never. I wouldn't force you to do anything."

"Yeah right." He took the keys from me and got into the car as I glanced around. Clint was watching me from the field where I left everyone. "Weird."

"What?" Micah started the car and glanced over at me. "What's up?"

"Just that guy over there. He did a great job of setting me up to score all day, but almost too good of a job." I rolled my shoulders. "I'm being paranoid. After spending half my evening in coach’s office last night, trying to explain that I didn't rape anyone, nor was it me that spiked the beers, I just feel like everyone is out to get me."

"They called me in too. I was going to tell you this morning, but you weren't exactly in the mood to chat." He backed the car up and turned on the air conditioner. "You heard about what Emily did, right?"

"What do you mean?" I took a long sip from my water bottle and glanced over at him.

"She told Coach Diaz that she was with you all night."

"Oh shit. Was that what happened? He asked me if we were dating, and I told him no." I turned back toward the front of the car and let my head drop back. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she's a good woman, I guess. Maybe they said something to her about you getting hit with a rape charge?"

"I didn't rape this bitch," I barked as anger rolled through me. "She sucked me off and was mad when I wouldn’t fuck her against the wall."

"Yeah, that's
really
tough." He was being a dick.

"It is." I closed my eyes and tried to shake the heavy emotion that accompanied knowing that Emily had stepped up and practically fixed the situation for me. They would still be investigating everything, but her alibi was going to help. "You need to set us up."

"Never. She's a great girl. You need to prove to her and yourself that you're not the whore you've been pretending to be all these years."

"How do you know it's a facade? It might be the real me."

"Nope. I've seen the real you, and that jackass ain't him." He pulled down his visor and turned up the radio, cutting off the conversation and leaving me to stew in the truth of his words.

*

"Well? How was practice?" My father walked back to the dishwashing room in the back of the pizza parlor and stuck his head in. The smile on his face pulled me out of my funk as it always did.

"It was good. Nice to get back on the field for sure."

"Why are you back here? I thought you were going to be in the kitchen." He put his hands on his portly waist and gave me a knowing look.

"I was scheduled to be, but Gino hates washing dishes, and he's been with you a year, Dad. He needs a chance to prove to you that he can work with the pizza."

"He put sugar instead of salt in a batch of dough last week and ruined the whole damn thing. I'm not a thriving business that can sustain those kinds of losses. We're going broke, remember?"

"Yep, and if you have someone spend some more time with him, and teach him how to do his job better, he's going to be a great employee for you. He respects you a lot. Give him another chance."

"Where is my son? What have you done with him?" He walked in and patted me on the back as I sunk my hands down into the warm suds in the sink. Part of me wanted to rebel at having to work at all, but it would have been a shitty thing to do. My father had been killing himself all my life to provide for me. It was time to start doing my part, no matter how uncool it felt to have to do it.

"How are you doing on hiring people? Anyone new?"

"No, not yet. Do you have any friends that are looking for a job?"

"You don't want my friends up here." I chuckled. "Well, Micah might be good, but I'm pretty sure his basketball scholarship has him set."

"No pretty girls that could help wait tables and host for us?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"None that wouldn't have two-thirds of their tits showing."

"Watch your language." He shook his head and walked to the door. "Keep your eyes open for the right person, please. We need at least one more person to come help us, and I would prefer she was a she."

"Most shes are a she, Dad."

"Smart ass." He chuckled and turned to walk out.

"Watch your language old man. We're trying to run a business here."

"What is this we?" He walked down the hall, leaving a smile on my face. The idea of Emily getting a job at DeAngelos was enough to leave me in a good mood for the rest of my shift. I owed her a thank you, and wanted to whisper it against her hair as I held her next to me in bed later that night, but it was a pipe dream, and a stupid one at that.

Not only was she tucked up Brody Jackson's ass, but she was hell-bent on not giving me the time of day. Why would she stick up for me when it counted most? That had to say something that she'd not given words to yet, right?

"What are you up to, pretty girl?" I mumbled softly as my thoughts faded back to the place they always did. In the dark of my room where the sound of her moans and the smell of her skin left me aching and needy. I needed to let the shit go. Nothing was going to happen between us. She seemed determined to make sure of that.

Chapter 11

Emily

"So help me pull apart the bed." Natasha walked across the vibrantly decorated dorm room and dropped her backpack down on the floor by the door.

"Are you sure about this? You know I can't pay rent for a while, right?" I felt like shit, but my options were limited. I could stay with Tasha in my old dorm room or take turns sleeping in Aubrey and Layla's beds.

"Of course. You would help me out if I needed you, right?"

"Without a doubt." I set my stuff down beside hers. "I'm going to have to move some of my stuff back in here. I don't have much, but your luxurious closet just became half as big." I cringed as she turned around and gave me a silly smile.

"Since when do you know me as the kind of person that gives a shit about the size of my closet? I could care less. You being taken care of? Yes, I care a lot about that." She moved to the far side of the bed and I gripped the bottom of the side closest to me. "I look like my mother, God help me, but I certainly don't act like her."

"You guys still not talking?" I groaned and pulled at my old bed until it was halfway across the room where it belonged.

"No. We don't have anything to say to each other, so it's easier to just avoid one another." She shrugged and worked on fixing the sheets back on her bed. "My dad says that I should be the bigger person and break the silence, but it really isn't a silence like you would think. We're not mad at each other. We just have nothing in common. She wants me to put on a tutu at twenty-one years old, and I want to wear sneakers."

"I get that." I walked to the closet and was grateful to find sheets still sitting in the top of it. "I'm going to be at Brody's until Monday morning. I'm hoping to get all my stuff together and sneak out of there before I have to see him again."

"Are you going to break things off?"

"I think so." I avoided her stare. I knew where everyone stood with that situation, and it wasn't as if I didn't agree. I just had far more skin in the game than anyone else who was touting advice and expecting immediate change.

"What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon? Surely you're not headed over there just to hang out by yourself, right?" She dropped down on her bed and flopped back.

"I was thinking about seeing if Aubrey and Layla wanted to get together. You wanna hang out with us?"

"Yeah, sure, why not." She rolled onto her side. "Or we could play a little b-ball. Layla is pretty athletic and you and Aubrey could pair up with each of us to keep things fair."

I snorted. "Thanks. Good to know I'm the cannon fodder in the game."

"I didn't say it was that bad."

"You didn't have to." I smiled and pulled out my phone to text Aubrey. It dinging right away with her response. "They're heading over now. Seems like everyone is just laying around, looking for something to do."

"That's summer for you." Natasha got up and walked to the bathroom. "You know you're welcome to stay here until we graduate and not pay another penny. My dad's picking up the bill, so until he cuts me off like my mother has done... we're good."

"Your mom cut you off? When?" Not that I really knew the details to Natasha and her mother's sordid relationship, but her mom was the head of the dance department. She had plenty of money and a reputation to uphold.

"When I decided I didn't want to dance anymore."

"When was that?" I gave her my attention as she glanced over her shoulder.

"When I was six."

*

"All right, so graduation is next week, but because of all the shit Lucas is having to do for the Cavs, we're going to try and plan the party for mid-June." Aubrey twirled the straw sticking out of her Coke and glanced down at the table.

I was still having trouble swallowing Layla's latest excuse for the bruise on her cheek. A wayward softball that smacked into her at practice earlier that day. What the fuck was going on? I didn't know her well enough to ask, but I was going to pull Aubrey aside and see what she knew. Surely she wasn't so wrapped up in all of the stuff around Lucas that she'd failed to see something was happening in her best friend's life.

"Mid-June works." Lucas walked up and wrapped Aubrey in a tight hug from behind. "Ladies. How are you?"

Jayce Moore joined us and pulled up a chair beside Natasha, giving her a warm smile and lifting his fist. "How's the best point guard in the world?"

"Ready for basketball season to start." Natasha smiled, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. Aubrey and Professor McCraven had a good relationship, which caused an automatic discomfort between Aubrey and Tasha. It was almost like the two didn't know what to say or not say around each other.

"I hear you. I can't wait to start playing baseball again." Jayce gave her a toothy grin and turned to Layla. "What happened to your freaking cheek? That's not from the pole thing, right?"

I glanced over at Aubrey and Lucas as they spoke softly to each other and kissed a few times. Why couldn't I have that in my life?

Lucas glanced up, and my cheeks burned as embarrassment raced through me.

"Sorry." I smiled and glanced down at the table.

"No biggie." He moved up between me and Aubrey and put his forearms on the table. "I heard what you did for Jacob."

"What?" I glanced around to make sure no one else was paying attention. "How did you hear about that already?"

"I'm close with Coach Billows, and they were all in the hockey office earlier today trying to put together the timeline and evidence of what the fuck happened. I'm so damn glad we didn't come to that party. I swear someone in that Omega House is a rat."

"Really? You don't think it was just another fraternity trying to fuck with them?" Aubrey asked and slipped her arm around Lucas' back.

"I don't think so." He brushed his finger by his lips. "Jacob has enough shit to deal with. He doesn't need to add anything else to the mix."

"Then maybe he should be a little more responsible with who he's choosing to take to his bed. Right now, it's like a free-for-all." I took a drink of my water as Lucas smiled like he knew something.

"You like him."

"I do not." I stiffened. "I just think it's silly for you guys to sit around here and talk about how great he is all of the time when he's a whore and a half."

"And do you know why he's a whore?" Lucas glanced from me to Aubrey. "Do you, baby?"

"I do." Layla raised her hand, bringing everyone else into the conversation. "His mother married a great guy when he was ten, cheated on him and left Jacob there when he was twelve. He's never seen her again, and he has no clue who his real father is."

"I thought his dad owned this place?" I lifted my hand and moved it around, referring to the pizza parlor we were huddled up in. The idea of Jacob's mother abandoning him stung me. I understood all too well what being left to fend for myself was like. Where my mother was still physically there, she was mentally miles away. Her liquor made sure of that.

"No, it's his stepdad. He's loyal to the man because Mr. DeAngelo raised him like he was his own son." Jayce threw in his two cents. "Where I don't really agree with Jacob's treatment of women, I can respect him taking care of his father as well as he does. They're almost inseparable."

"The women, that will change." Layla glanced up. "When he finds a good woman that doesn't treat him like a piece of meat, he'll melt. He's a softy."

"No way. I don't believe that." I glanced up to see him headed straight for us. His dark hair and well-trimmed beard made him look like someone in their late twenties. The dark circles under his eyes didn't help much, but for some strange reason, they didn't detract from him either. He was impossibly handsome. The warmth that filled me when he moved to my side of the table and touched the top of my back was disturbing on far too many levels.

After we ended the day before with a fight, I didn't think he would want much to do with me. He obviously thought I didn't respect myself enough to leave Brody, and had been quite verbal about it.

"Hey peeps." He lifted his hand and gave everyone but me a high-five. "Party at the Omega House tonight, but it will be censored. You guys should come on out."

"Isn't there a party every night at the Omega House?" Jayce snorted and everyone laughed.

"Excuse me." I moved out of my chair and slipped by him, trying not to concentrate on the hint of his cologne or the way he watched me like he already owned me. I didn't need anything else tying me to the bastard. The few things we had in common were far too much as it were.

I walked toward the bathroom and stopped by the dartboard, checking out the hiring sign with details below. Working for Jacob's father couldn't be that bad, especially not with the way everyone was talking about the guy moments before.

"Hey." Jacob's voice was soft and affected me way more than I wanted it to.

"Oh, hey, Jacob. What's up?" I turned toward him and put my hand on my hip.

"Thank you." He licked his lips subtly and my stomach contracted. The things his tongue could do.

"For what?" I dropped my hand to my side, realizing the bitchiness in my stance.

"For telling Diaz that you were with me all night."

"You didn't hurt anyone, right?"

"Do you really have to ask that?" The hurt in his eyes tore at me.

"Of course I do. I took up for you without hesitation, but after thinking about it some, I really don't know you at all."

He moved to stand right in front of me, far too close for comfort.

"See, that's the problem, Em. You do know me. You made love to me three years ago and opened up my soul. You didn't take time to peer down into it and see the man behind the mask?"

I didn't know what to say. If his words didn't steal my breath, his mere presence did.

"I guess not. Your loss." He turned and walked back toward the kitchen, leaving me panting softly. I was going to end up in his arms again if I wasn't careful, and this time, there would be no walking away from him.