-22-
KAYLA
Jay got down off the bed, pulled off the condom, and dropped it in the trash. He was back in my bed seconds later, curling around me as the large spoon. His thick arm was heavy, but nice, draped across me. We lay in the quiet, my rushed breathing slowing, and I burrowed back into him, his chin resting on the top of my head.
I was physically tired but mentally wide-awake. “Did your parents make your game?”
“Yeah.”
“They got to see your TD.”
I was facing away from him, but pictured a smile on his lips. “Yeah, they did.”
“They must be so proud, their only son playing in college, maybe going pro.” I aimed for a teasing tone. “Even if he plays for that school I shall not name.”
There was no reaction. Jay had no comeback? I rolled over and found his expression hesitant.
“I’m not their only son.” His face skewed. “I mean, I am.”
“What?”
He scowled for a moment, but it seemed self-directed. “This conversation requires beer.”
He avoided the ladder, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and took the express elevator down. There was a loud boom when he landed on his feet, which the downstairs neighbors probably didn’t appreciate. I gathered the sheet around me as I sat up, and watched him stride to his can of beer. He took a long sip.
“How old are your parents?” he asked, his back turned to me.
“Holy random question.” I took a second to think about it. “My mom’s late forties. My dad’s fifty-something. Why?”
“My mom’s fifty-nine. My dad’s in his sixties.”
Okay. I didn’t get it.
“My parents wanted a big family, but it took years before my mom got pregnant.” He took another sip, probably draining half of the beer. “After my brother was born, one kid seemed to be all they were going to get. But they were cool with that.”
Cold drifted over me, curling its fingers around my heart. Jay had said he was an only child.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“When Derek was seven, he got meningitis. It came quick and they said he was gone in a few days.”
I gasped and tightened my hold on the sheet. Jay turned and peered at me with a serious expression.
“They didn’t have to tell me it was rough. I don’t know how they made it through, but they had each other. After a while, they decided to try for a family again. My mom glosses over it, but I think that was really hard on her.”
He set his beer down and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.
“After a few years, they realized it wasn’t going to happen for them and gave up. Right when they started to look into adoption, along I came.” His tone was heavy. “Their miracle baby.”
Those three words.
God, they said so much.
I had expectations to live up to with my parents, but they weren’t as bad as an only child’s were. And he wasn’t just an only child . . . Was he filling all the hopes and dreams his parents had held for his older brother, too?
I hated the space between us. “Come back to bed.” When he didn’t move, I added, “I’m cold.”
It seemed to do the trick. He moved to the ladder and slowly climbed up, only this time when he lay down, he was on his back. I tucked myself in under his arm and set a hand on his chest, right over his beating heart.
“It’s nice with you,” he commented. “If I fuck things up at Michigan, at least I’m not letting you down.”
His truth stabbed into me. “Don’t say that,” I scolded. “And, Jay, you’re not letting anyone down. You’re an amazing athlete.” That wasn’t all. “You’re smart, and funny, and selfless.”
“Selfless?” His tone was dubious.
I raised my head to deliver a pointed look. “Remind me why you left Marcy’s wedding.”
“That guy was going to ruin the reception. Plenty of other guys would have done what I did.”
“Oh? How many of them offered?” I charged back.
“Okay, yeah,” he said. “I was pissed I had to leave. I had plans for you, McCarthy. You should know, they were very selfish. I wanted you all to myself.”
I traced patterns with my fingers over his chest. “Well, mission accomplished.”
His arm tightened, pulling me closer.
Our first away game was in Champaign-Urbana, and the score had been tight up until the final quarter. Tariq Crawford had ripped the ball out of a receiver’s hands and returned the fumble for a touchdown. The crowd of Fighting Illini had gone graveyard quiet, and later that evening, we boarded the buses, undefeated.
I checked my phone discreetly several times on the long drive back to Columbus. The Michigan game at Iowa had a four-thirty kickoff, so I watched the scoring unfold in real-time.
Not that I was rooting for Michigan.
I could barely bring myself to look at pictures of Jay in the ugly blue jersey and obnoxious yellow pants. The blue helmet with the yellow wings on it was everything I hated, and I was grateful it was hard to see him beneath the facemask. I would pretend it was someone else. If he scored, I’d picture him in scarlet and gray.
I was sure he’d love that.
He didn’t score against Iowa, but Michigan still won. The Hawkeyes’ run defense was weak. We’d plow through them easily next month when they came to the Horseshoe.
It was ungodly late when I got home. Chuck’s door was closed, and he’d probably been asleep for hours. I went into my room and glared up at my bed, almost too tired to climb into it, and was annoyed I was getting in it alone.
My bed had been on fire last weekend. Jay hadn’t been able to stay long Sunday morning. We both had group meetings and academic aid check-ins, plus one of his trainers told Jay he needed to lift if he was going to maintain his weight.
The morning sex had been awesome in a different way from the night before. My tiny bed sucked. It was hilarious trying to maneuver, and I’d never had sex before where we laughed. It was shocking how comfortable he made me feel, when it should have been the opposite.
It had the same ending, though. I didn’t come until after he did, but not from lack of trying on his part. He’d held out a while, shifting positions, and adjusting angles. I got the weird feeling he liked the challenge, and I wasn’t going to complain. I enjoyed the sex and feeling him fall apart when he came. And I was used to not getting an orgasm, so when he hooked his hands under my thighs and went down on me, my climax happened in like ninety seconds.
A girl could get used to that.
I peeled off the shell of my uniform top and wondered what he was doing right now. Because of the start time, they wouldn’t be going back to Ann Arbor until the morning. Was he at the hotel yet?
I texted him.
Me: Home from Illinois game. Hawkeyes run defense was so bad, you barely got any touches.
Jay: #Truth. Saw OSU won. Congrats! Wanna chat?
My heart thumped faster and I wasn’t tired anymore. Ten seconds later, his face popped up on my screen.
“Where are you?” I asked.
The camera was jerky and he seemed to be walking. “I’m in the hotel lobby. I thought we’d want privacy.” Or maybe he meant I wouldn’t want to see any of his teammates, who he was sharing a room with. Either way, he was right. He plopped down on a couch in a darkened corner. “Hi.”
The smile that widened on his face was dazzling, and even though he was wearing his Michigan warm-ups, I couldn’t stop his smile from infecting me. I felt lightheaded. “Hey.”
“How was your game? Did Lisa give you any more shit?”
I shook my head. “It was good, and no. She seems satisfied . . . for now.”
Jay didn’t look all that sympathetic. “Come on, McCarthy. I don’t know which is dumber. Her trying to extort you, or you letting her do it.”
I gnashed my teeth. “She’s not extorting me, I was going to put her on the travel squad anyway. She’s just being her typical annoying self. And, hey, while we’re talking about annoying things,” I glared into the screen, “did you happen to see the AP Poll this week?”
Amusement lit his eyes. “I did, and I know where you’re going with this—”
“Horseshit!”
He shrugged as if it had any hope of placating me. “Ohio State’s in the top five.”
“I know, like I said. Horseshit. Number one? The school you go to isn’t that good.” Sure, it was early in the season, but still. No way Michigan was better than we were.
“Polls don’t mean shit, and how would you know?” he teased. “You don’t watch the games.”
Was he for real? “I’m busy on Saturdays, too, you know.” Busy cheering for the team that should have been number one in the polls.
“That’s the only reason, though?” His expression turned serious. “Because you won’t be busy October first.”
“That’s our bye week.”
The gleam in his eyes set me on edge. He was working an angle. “It’s not a bye for Michigan. Are you going to watch my game?”
It was like swallowing glass. I’d watched Michigan games before, but only to actively root against them. It’d be so different now. “It’ll be painful for me,” I admitted. “But if you want me to, I suppose.”
Jay’s smile widened, and my heart dipped down into my stomach.
“What?” Suspicion narrowed my eyes. “You’ve got a look on your face. I don’t like it.”
“Would you watch the game . . . in person?”
For a moment, hysteria made me deaf. I had no choice but to repeat the ludicrous idea he’d just thrown out. “You want me to sit in the stands at a Michigan game.”
“With my parents.”
My muscles tensed, locking me in place. “Be serious. I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Did he need to go through concussion protocol? Or had he plain forgotten about my feelings on the rivalry? “Well, for starters, if I step on that campus, I might burst into flames.”
He laughed, and then swung right back into seriousness. “I want you there, Kayla. It’d be really cool if you came.” He looked sheepish. “I accidentally mentioned you to my mom, and she got all excited. I need you to know, my mom said something like ‘I better meet her or you’ll be sorry.’ I don’t want to be sorry. She made a mechanic sorry once, and he was never heard from again.”
“Is that a threat, Eighty-Eight?” I said.
“No, it’s a request.” His blue eyes implored me. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I’d do it for you.”
I absolutely believed he would, and I looked away from the camera.
He had enormous pressure on him, and yet he didn’t pass it on to me. We’d talked about dating, and I’d never given him a real answer, and yet he hadn’t pushed to put a label on whatever it was we were doing. It felt like as long as I didn’t slap a title on our relationship, I was safe from having to tell my parents or the squad.
I was aware it was a total cop-out.
He must have been able to see I was about to say no, because he added, “Come on. You can practice your fake ‘I don’t hate Michigan’ face for when you’re on-air.” His expression deepened. “Also, pretty sure it’s easier for you to use me for sex if we’re actually together.”
I pinched my knees tight and was grateful he couldn’t see my response. The truth was I missed him. Not just sex, but being near him. Talking through video chat was nice, but it wasn’t the same. “I cannot believe I’m about to agree to this.” Maybe I was exhausted and it impaired my judgement. Tomorrow I’d come to my senses. “Fine. But I don’t have to like it.”
This smile was more brilliant than I’d ever seen from him. “Yeah? Fair enough. I’ve got a spare Michigan shirt you can wear, if you—”
“Go to hell!” My rebuttal was pure instinct, and Jay gave a deep laugh.