Chapter Eleven

Tickets for summer practice games were open seating and most people in the stands clustered around the fifty-yard line within the first twenty rows. But not Allison. She chose to sit facing the thirty-yard line about twenty-five rows from the field. She liked having practically the whole section to herself and being away from the masses.

Allison had attended plenty of games here her first year, but never a practice. It was kind of thrilling, being one of the few spectators admitted to the late afternoon practice game. She applied a layer of lip balm, then she folded a flyer she’d picked up on the way in and used it to fan herself. Thank goodness it wasn’t noon. It was plenty hot in the stands without being under the midday sun.

She didn’t really know why Tony invited her to watch. Why would he even want her here? He apparently had something planned for after the game but she didn’t have a clue what it might be. Her first thought was a date, but really, it didn’t matter. He could have asked her to come watch paint dry with him and she’d be just as happy. She loved being around Tony, loved it when he filled her field of vision, she loved listening to him talk, even if his grammar wasn’t always the King’s English. He was a little rough around the edges, but he had a basic down-to-earth quality and sincerity about him that was attractive and sexy.

When she first laid eyes on Tony in person, she felt an instant hate for him, not only because he laughed at her during tryouts, but because of his advance publicity. She’d heard he was a stoner, a slacker and, according to reports, a rapist, and she believed it—all of it—even though she’d only heard one side of the story.

Now that she was getting to know Tony, those labels didn’t add up. Tony seemed humble and respectful around her. He treated her with a gentle kindness she wasn’t used to. He was helping her make the cheer squad. All told, he was the nicest guy she’d ever known.

She hadn’t worked up the nerve to take Brittany’s advice and ask him if the accusations were true, but she didn’t need to. In her heart she knew he didn’t do it. She couldn’t feel the way she did about him if he was the kind of guy who would do something like that.

Allison blinked several times and sat up straighter in her seat. This was the first time she really admitted to herself she had strong feelings for Tony. Her only serious relationship up to now was in high school. She dated a guy for a semester and remembered thinking he was the one. She thought she was in love with the guy. He was her first sexual experience but after a while, she realized that’s all he wanted from her. He wasn’t much interested in doing anything together besides having sex and they did it a lot. They drifted apart after the semester was over, and it was just as well.

A loud cheer erupted when the Barracudas took the field. She immediately spotted Tony and noticed he was looking toward the stands, searching the crowd. His attention was focused on the fans seated on the fifty-yard line. Then he looked to his far right and spotted her. A big smile overtook his face and he waved at Allison. Her heart skipped a beat as she smiled and waved back. He had the most beautiful smile, so warm and sincere. She felt flattered that he’d actually looked for her in the stands and appeared relieved to see her there.

A moment later, the offense was on the line of scrimmage and Tony was receiving the snap.

How did this happen, she asked herself as she watched him complete a short pass. She didn’t even know him that well and she obviously didn’t set out to crush on anyone, least of all Tony. If she were going to have a college boyfriend, she figured he’d be tall and slender, blond, clean cut, clean shaven, well-dressed, well-spoken, and well above the law. That was the kind of boy her mother would approve. Tony was none of those things and Allison wasn’t the type of girl who was normally attracted to so-called bad boys.

What now? What was she going to do? Should she tell him she’s interested? No, definitely not, she decided. There was only one possible outcome if Tony knew how she felt. He’d go running in the opposite direction. She knew she wasn’t his type any more than he was hers. He was just being nice because he felt guilty about tripping her up a few weeks ago. She was fine as a friend, but she wasn’t confident and sexy like the girls most football players dated.

On top of all that, Tony had a reputation that worried her. She could easily convince herself it wasn’t true, but she didn’t know for sure any more than Brittany did. And asking him wasn’t that simple, at least not for Allison. It was too personal and embarrassing to discuss and, if it were true, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. If his morality was questionable, she’d have to back away and she really wanted to move toward Tony, not away from him. She felt so conflicted!

She shook herself out of her reverie and refocused on the game. She looked for number 18 on the field, but she didn’t see him. Instead, there was another quarterback on the field, Tony’s backup apparently.

»»•««

Allison’s heart was beating madly as she waited for Tony outside the sports complex’s gymnasium. It was nearly six thirty and the corridor was nearly deserted, but that wasn’t the reason for her anxiety. The reason was her growing feelings for Tony. She should have seen it coming. Heck, even Brittany figured it out. But for Allison, this all felt new and surprisingly exciting. Even if Tony didn’t feel the same way she did, just having these kinds of feelings was thrilling. It gave her something to concentrate on outside of herself and her insecurities. She closed her eyes and allowed her brain to fill with thoughts of Tony, with fantasies of what his strong arms would feel like holding her, how his lips would feel on hers.

“Hey.” Her eyes flashed open and her cheeks warmed when she heard his voice. He jogged down the corridor toward her and stopped just a few inches away, closer than a stranger might, but further than she would have preferred. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” He was slightly out of breath. “I took a quick shower.”

Allison couldn’t help but hope his haste was due to his own impatience to see her. She dropped her gaze from his face to his chest and down to his jeans. Fresh from the shower, his jet-black hair was slicked back, the dampness making it look less wavy than it normally did. He sported a tight spandex T-shirt that clung to his muscular chest more than usual, likely because he threw it on before his body dried completely. The EFU Barracudas logo adorned the garment over his heart and a tiny silver Barracuda hung from a short chain around his neck. She stared at his tight black Levis a moment too long before lifting her eyes back to his face. She found him smiling at her, as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Ready?”

Oh yes, she said, but not out loud. “Um. For what?”

“I came up with the perfect way to teach you coordination.”

“Tony, you can’t be taught coordination.”

Smiling, he disagreed. “That is so not true.”

“No, it is true. It’s like talent,” she asserted. “You’re either born with it or you’re not.”

“There’s people who got more coordination and people who got less. Same with talent,” he explained. “But that don’t mean less talented people oughta give up. It just means they need to work harder at it.”

Her brow crinkled. “Oh. I guess that kinda makes sense.”

“So, come on.” He took her hand without warning and her whole body shivered. She hoped he didn’t notice.

His stride was longer than hers and she practically had to run to keep up. She squeezed his hand as he led her through the maze of corridors that connected one part of the sports complex to the next. Suddenly she wondered if she were dressed appropriately. A T-shirt and capris were fine for a ball game, but maybe not for what came after. “Where are we goin’?” She didn’t really care where he was taking her. She was perfectly content for her hand to live inside his no matter where they ended up.

“You’ll see.”

“You keep sayin’ that,” she said with a giggle.

He laughed as they rounded another corner. “You hungry?”

“Why? Are we goin’ to the campus cafe?”

“Not now, but I thought we could get a bite after.”

This was definitely starting to have a date vibe. “After what?”

“After this.” They were in the hallway between the media room and the operations offices behind the football field. Tony pressed some buttons on a keypad on the wall next to the field operations office. He opened the door and Allison followed him inside. “How did you know the code?”

“I pay attention to stuff like that.” He grabbed a plastic tote and filled it with a dozen footballs. He pulled a jersey off the shelf. “Here, put this on.” Allison shrugged and slipped the jersey over her head. She was starting to think she was wrong about the date idea. This jersey wasn’t sexy. It was only about a hundred sizes too big for her.

“Okay, let’s go.” Tony lifted the tote on his shoulder and took her hand again. He peeked out at the field from the tunnel, like a spy making sure the coast was clear. “We’re gonna need light.”

“Don’t you need a key or a code to turn on the lights?” she asked.

A mischievous smile crossed Tony’s face. “Yup. And I got the code right here,” he said, releasing her hand and tapping his temple. He punched a code around the corner from the tunnel. The lights slowly brightened. He grabbed Allison’s hand again and led her toward the field’s fifty-yard line.

Walking quickly beside him, she glanced in his direction. “Okay, so now are you gonna to tell me what we’re doin’ on a deserted football field?”

“Soon.”

Whatever it was he was planning, Tony sure was going to a lot of trouble, and he was doing it all for her. Teetering between nervous and giddy, Allison began to babble. “Ever wonder why they call it a football? I mean you hold the ball and throw it, right? With your hands, not your feet. They should call it handball.”

“I think that name’s taken,” he chuckled. “Besides, the ball gets kicked plenty.”

“So they should call it kickball.”

“Ha! I doubt they’re gonna change the name just because you don’t approve.” Tony set the tote down on the fifty-yard line. “Okay, ready?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Ready for what?”

Pointing to the tote he explained, “I’m gonna teach you to throw a football.”

Her lips parted. “Seriously? And that’s supposed to help me with coordination?”

“Sure! Why not?”

“I don’t know. I mean, how much coordination does it take to throw a football? Ya just grab it and throw.” Allison picked up a football from the tote and tossed it.

Tony watched the ball dive to the grass a few feet away. He picked it up. “Told you. You just grounded it. You need to hold the ball the right way,” he said, his smooth baritone boomeranging around the empty stadium. “You need to have the right stance and the right throwing technique. Then there’s hand-eye coordination. And you have to pick your target. There’s tons of mechanics. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“You’re right-handed, right? You threw the ball with your right hand.” When she nodded, he handed her the football and took one out of the tote for himself. “Here. Hold it like this.” He held up the football and she watched him, trying to mimic his grip. “No, your fingers need to spread over the laces.” Allison spread her fingers out. “No, not like that. Here.” Tony dropped the ball he was holding and approached Allison. Standing next to her, he gripped the ball as she held it, adjusting the spread of her fingers, some more, some less, and moving her thumb to the right position on the opposite side of the ball. He turned his head to look at her. “Isn’t this more comfortable?”

Looking into his eyes, Allison felt her face flush. She glanced at his hand resting on top of her fingers on the ball and hoped he’d never let go. She couldn’t believe a guy like him was giving so much one-on-one attention to a girl like her. He was being so nice, so patient, so naturally sexy. Swallowing hard, she looked back into his eyes and finally nodded. Tony slid his fingers off of hers. “Okay, now I want you to pull it back, then forward in a circular arc, like this.” He picked up his football to show Allison what he meant. “Don’t throw it yet, just swing your arm back and forth near your ear to get used to the feel.”

Allison self-consciously moved the ball back and forth, feeling Tony’s eyes on her. “Um, like this?”

He looked from her arm to her hip. “Something’s not right,” he observed with a scowl. He dropped his ball and positioned himself behind her. She felt her body tense up when he put his arm around her stomach from behind. “Here. Spread your legs out a little more, about six inches apart. Good. But don’t bend at the waist. You’re bending forward.” He bent his knees to get to the right height to demonstrate the position, then he pressed his other hand to her spine to straighten her posture.

Allison sucked in some air when she felt Tony’s groin press into her backside. “Okay, now um.” He slid his hands to the sides of her waist. His fingers were warm and strong and commanding. He gently squeezed her waist, guiding her without words. Right now, she would probably do anything he asked. She closed her eyes imagining how it would feel to be in this exact same position with no clothes between them.

Still standing behind her, he bent his knee and gently pressed the outside of his thigh against the inside of hers, urging her to spread her legs apart a little more. “Better,” he mumbled. He grasped her wrist and slowly moved it back and forth to demonstrate the throwing motion. Holding the ball above her head, she longed for him to press his body closer to hers once again. Instead, he stepped away. Picking up his ball again, he told her, “You want to put your weight on your dominant foot. That would be your right foot since you’re a righty.”

“I’d say both of them are left feet.”

Tony chuckled. “Okay, so plant your weight on your right foot when you throw.”

She pressed her lips together in disapproval. “That’s a lot to remember all at the same time.”

“Exactly why we’re here. So go ahead and try it.”

She looked over her shoulder. “Try it? You mean throw it?”

“No, wait a sec.” He dropped his ball and jogged out to the forty-yard line, turning around halfway there and jogging backward. “Okay, toss it to me. Remember the stance and keep your eye on me. I’m your target. Go for it.”

She tossed the ball and he dived to catch it a few yards to his left and in front of him.

Allison covered her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Scrambling to his feet, he jogged back toward her. “No, that was pretty good.”

“It was?”

“For your first time, hell yes.”

Allison grinned proudly. “I guess I’m more coordinated than I think.”

“It’s a start. Next, I want you to throw to me on the run.”

She nodded calmly. “You’re gonna be runnin’?”

“No, you are.”

Her eyes flashed. “Me?”

“Passers have to know how to throw on the run. The best quarterbacks master this move.”

“Have you mastered the move?”

“I’m still working on it,” he admitted. Allison took note of how guileless he was. He could have easily told her he mastered the move in high school, but he wasn’t a braggart, and it seemed to Allison he wasn’t a liar either. “It’s one of those things we work on in practice. As for you, this’ll be a good exercise for those two left feet you claim to have.”

“Um…how about if I just kick it instead. That seems easier.”

“We’ll get to that. First things first.” He clapped once. “Throwing on the run.”

“Um. What about the stance?”

“You still have to remember the stance.” He pointed at her leg. “You need to lead with your dominant foot, but you’re doing everything faster.” He picked up his ball. “Watch me first, then you try it.”

Allison followed Tony’s every move with her eyes. He looked so sexy in his fitted black T-shirt. It revealed his well-defined chest and abdomen muscles with every little movement. His tight biceps curled when he pulled his arm back into a throwing motion. He threw the ball in her direction. “Heads-up!” he yelled. “Allison!”

A nanosecond later, she lay on the ground flat on her back. Tony’s voice sounded distant and far away. “Allison! Are you okay,” he asked, kneeling beside her and gently shaking her shoulders.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times when Tony’s face appeared in her line of sight. “I think so.”

“Why didn’t you catch the ball?” he asked with a hint of irritation. “Why did you just stand there and not try to catch it?”

“I guess I let my mind wander.”

“Are you hurt? Should I call for a medic?”

Allison shook her head no and sat up. He pressed the palm of his hand onto her back for support. “Maybe you shouldn’t move yet.”

“I’m okay.”

Tony held his hands out and she took them as he pulled her to her feet in one motion. She kept hold of his hands and looked up into his face for far longer than she needed to. He pulled one hand free and brushed her hair from the front of her shoulder to her back, his fingers lightly lingering on her neck. “You sure you’re okay,” he asked softly.

She nodded. “I promise. I’m fine. I’m just glad you didn’t laugh at me,” she confessed with a forced chuckle. “I’m ready to throw on the run.”

He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “Man, you’re tough as nails, aren’t you? I’m gonna start calling you ‘Nails.’ Seriously, maybe we should do this another time.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been knocked on my ass.” Allison put her wrists together and held her hands out. “Ball please.”

He shrugged. “Hokay.” Tony grinned and handed her the ball. “Go for it, Nails.” He jogged backward. “Remember, I’m your target. You want to hit me.”

“Just not in the head,” she joked. She ran a few steps and lifted the ball in one hand, getting ready to throw. She mentally checked off the movements she was supposed to make. Circular arc. Plant your leg. But as she put her weight on one leg and released the ball, she lost her balance and fell to the ground.

Tony rushed over again. He kneeled next to her, planting a palm on the ground on each side of her torso. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” Allison quickly assured him.

“You sure you’re not hurt?”

“Just my pride,” she uttered. “But my pride is used to being wounded. Told you I’m a klutz. It’s the only thing I do well.”

“I think I figured out what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony didn’t answer her. From the expression on his face, she wasn’t even sure he heard her question. He was looking at her with those sexy brooding bedroom eyes of his that always looked half-closed. She watched as his pupils shifted slightly from her eyes to her lips and back again. She could see his chest rise and fall as he hovered above her and she wished she knew what he was thinking.

A little voice in her head told her she should probably be afraid. They were completely alone and she was in a very vulnerable position. Strong as he was, he could do anything he wanted to do to her. But she wasn’t afraid—except that maybe he didn’t want to kiss her as much as she wanted him to. Kiss me, she silently yelled, wanting more than anything for him to read the desire in her eyes.

As his face inched closer to hers, instinct took over. She lifted her hands and rested them on his biceps. The feel of the smooth skin on his arms heightened her desire. She closed her eyes waiting and wanting and ready to feel his lips meet hers.

“Hey!”

Her eyes flashed open at the sound of a loud male voice in the distance. Tony instantly leaned away and looked toward the tunnel leading from the players’ entrance.

“Hey, what’s going on over there?” A security guard came running toward them. Tony scrambled to his feet and pulled Allison by her hands to a standing position.

The guard shone a flashlight in Tony’s face. “You!”

Tony held an open palm over his face to shade his eyes from the bright light. “Everything’s cool,” Tony said defensively. “We weren’t doing anything.”

The guard turned the light on Allison. “You okay, miss? Are you hurt?”

“A little,” Allison replied, looking down and dusting some debris off her jersey, “but it’s no big deal. I’ll be fine.”

The guard looked at Tony, then at Allison. “Both of you are coming with me.”

»»•««

Tony paced around the small rectangular table in a small rectangular room that was barely large enough to pace. The “interrogation room,” as some of his fellow delinquents called it, looked like a low-budget version of what you’d see on those crime and punishment TV shows. This wasn’t Tony’s first visit here, but it was definitely the last place he expected to be tonight. What was Allison telling them right now, he wondered.

He remembered the last time he was accused of sexual assault in this very room. He laughed it off. After all, it wasn’t true. He figured he had nothing to worry about. Boy was he ever wrong. On that day, he learned they always believe the girl, even when she’s lying. And now he lived with a badge of shame that he never even earned.

But Allison was different. She wasn’t a hookup or someone he barely knew. She was someone he actually liked. He liked being around her, he liked bantering back and forth, he liked helping with her quest to become a cheerleader and teaching her coordination. Tonight, he felt something change between them. It wasn’t just attraction anymore. The way she looked at him and the way she reacted every time he touched her told him that he wasn’t the only one. She felt it too.

When he started playing football in high school, getting girls was a cinch. He didn’t have to get to know them to get laid. They were more than willing to jump in bed with him. But Allison wasn’t just a potential conquest. Tonight, when the ball he threw hit her head and she went down, his heart stopped. The thought of hurting her or losing her for any reason made him sick. In that instant, he felt lost and completely alone—until she opened her eyes and reassured him she was fine. That’s when he knew. He felt something for Allison he never felt before. He was falling in love with her.

He kicked one of the metal chairs and a clanging sound echoed through the room. “Take it easy on the school property, Ramos.”

Tony looked up at Ray Burke, assistant director of campus security. The two of them had done this dance before. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Ray, I swear,” Tony asserted.

“That’s the ‘he said’ version. We’ll see what ‘she’ has to say.” Ray took a seat and motioned for Tony to do the same. Before sitting down, Tony kicked the chair out knowing it would rattle his nemesis.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Ray asked, clasping his hands on the table. “I mean this time.”

“Nothing happened then, and nothing happened now,” Tony answered bitterly.

“Yeah, nothing ever happens.” Ray leaned back in his chair. “So why did our security guard find you in the middle of the football field laying on top of that girl? And why did she say she’s a little hurt? Was it because she’s scared of you and didn’t want to tell us what really happened until she was sure she was safe?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You know, you’re no Lennie Briscoe.”

“Make all the jokes you want, Ramos. This is serious. This would be your second time.”

“There wasn’t even a first time,” Tony shouted as he pounded the table with his fist.

Ray folded his arms over his chest. “You’re skating on thin ice here, Ramos. You’re real close to getting kicked out of school, but that would be the least of your troubles. If she cries rape—”

“She won’t! She’s my friend.”

“And that’s how you treat a friend?”

Tony looked up at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head. “Damn Ray. I wouldn’t do that to her, to anyone. My grandmother raised me to respect women, and—” The skeptical look on Ray’s face told Tony he was beating a dead horse. “Look, all we were doing was kissing.” Or that’s what they would have been doing if the cavalry didn’t show up when they did. “I was just teaching Allison to throw a football, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story,” Tony admitted, “but I’d bet you my annual stipend she’s telling the exact same story.”

There was a knock at the door. Ray pushed his chair back and got up, without taking his eye off Tony until he reached the door. He opened it and exited the room, but left the door open a crack. Tony could hear muffled voices, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

When Ray returned to the room a few minutes later, he snarled, “You can go.” Tony raised his eyebrows. “She’s not pressing charges.”

Tony quickly got up and headed toward the door. Before Ray stepped out of his way, he warned, “I’m watching you, Ramos. We’re all watching you.”

“I’ll remember that, Detective Briscoe.” Tony laughed, even though there was nothing about this whole incident that was amusing.

In the outer office, Tony looked around. He expected to see Allison there but she was nowhere in sight. He wanted to ask someone where she went, but he figured he shouldn’t press his luck.

As soon as he was outside, he reached for his cell phone and dialed Allison’s phone number. It rang a few times before rolling into voicemail. He wasn’t even sure what to say to her, so he hung up without leaving a message.

»»•««

Allison was glad her roommates were gone for the summer because she really didn’t want to have to explain why she was crying when she entered her suite. She stared up at the ceiling of her dark bedroom with tears rolling down the outer corners of her eyes. What started out as potentially the best night of her life had turned into the worst. Instead of kissing Tony and embarking on a new phase of their relationship, she ended up getting hauled into the campus security office for the first time in her life where she was confronted by a female guard who seemed to want Allison to admit Tony assaulted her. When Allison finally convinced the woman that it was all a misunderstanding—that when she said she’s “a little hurt,” she meant because she fell, not because Tony hurt her—the woman proceeded to lecture her about how dangerous Tony was.

She claimed boys like Tony love to take advantage of girls like Allison, and he only wants one thing. She implied—no, not implied—she outright said that if he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll take it. Allison told the woman she was wrong about Tony, but that only amped up the rhetoric. The woman had clearly watched one too many police dramas. Allison decided it was best to keep her mouth shut and let the woman have her say. That way, Allison would get out of there sooner.

When she finally left the office, she thought she’d see Tony, but she didn’t. It broke her heart to think he was undergoing the same kind of questioning, all because of an off-hand remark Allison made about being hurt. God, she hoped they wouldn’t call her mother about this.

Allison jumped when the phone buzzed on her nightstand. She reached for it and looked at the display. Her stomach did a little flip when she saw Tony’s picture. She carefully placed the phone back on the nightstand and let it roll into voicemail.

She didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment, least of all Tony. She had too many conflicting thoughts in her head. After the things the security officers said about him, she wasn’t sure she could look at him the same way again, and that distressed her deeply. Sure, she’d heard it all before, but it was different when it was just hearsay compared to being warned about Tony by imposing authority figures, people who supposedly knew the truth.

Still, the Tony they were talking about wasn’t at all like the Tony Allison knew. The Tony she knew was kind and caring and decent. The worst thing he’d ever done to her was laugh at her at tryout practice, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

She didn’t want to be afraid of him. She didn’t want to think the worst of him. But what if their claims were true? If she asked him directly, would he be honest with her? More importantly, did she really want to know?

She glanced at the Barracudas jersey slung over her desk chair. She’d figure out a way to return it tomorrow. Rolling toward the wall, she wished she could turn off the voices in her head and just fall asleep. Hopefully everything would look different in the light of day.