“What’s the capital of Nairobi?”
“It’s cheating if I give you the answer,” Rob responds distractedly. “What’s the capital of Burundi?”
“Bujumbura.”
“Just kidding. I already knew that one.” His fingers fly over his laptop keys as we race to complete an online geography quiz.
Yeah, we’re geeks like that, but it’s Sunday and even the party-animal frat boys are taking a break tonight.
He nudges me, the dimple in his cheek appearing with his childish grin. “I’m done. Are you?”
Yes, but I don’t want to admit that. “No. I still have a few more to go.”
“You know what this means, don’t you?”
Well, yeah. That’s why I don’t want to admit I won this latest battle. Instead, I fake a sigh. “You get to have your way with me.”
“Damn straight.” He closes his laptop and slides it under my bed, popping up with a heated gleam in his teal eyes.
It’s been nearly a year since Rob crossed a big hurdle in our relationship, but watching him crawl across the mattress toward me like a predator stalking its prey hasn’t dulled my awe one bit.
In my darker moments of self-loathing, my mind struggles to believe we’re really together. It’s inconceivable Rob Falls wants me at all. Some days, when the weight of knowing another woman gave him an orgasmic blowjob, and I still haven’t seen him naked, threatens to strangle me, one tender caress of his big hand against my cheek rights my mind. In his changeable eyes, I see the weight of his own demons, and somehow, knowing we’re equals in that makes me feel worthier than any plastic surgery or sex act ever could.
While we might not be a typical college couple, banging every chance we get, our intimate life is getting better…slowly. And so what if we go at our own pace and play by our own rules? Everyone judges us enough outside of this dorm room. Here is where we can just be…ourselves.
He peers around my screen to scan my answers, a knowing expression on his face. “You’re still such a bad liar, Mrs. Falls. I have to admit, I’m kind of surprised. You’re usually more competitive than this.”
I shrug, not feeling guilty in the slightest. “You had an away game last week and Sig O activities last night. I feel like we haven’t had any time together lately.”
A slow smile spreads across his kissable lips. “If you want me to have my way with you, all you have to do is say so.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Oh, I’ll give you some fun.” He pries my laptop out of my hands and shoves it on the nightstand. Covering my body with his own, before brushing my crazy hair away from my face with a gentle touch, he lays me back on the pile of pillows. His expression turns serious, his voice quiet and genuine. “This year is going to be different, Evie. I promise.”
I run my hands up his thick arms to his muscular shoulders. In many ways, this year is already different. For one, Rob trains again like he used to, finally sure I’m not only placating him when I say I’m unafraid of his strength. Free of some of his worry and with Jamal out of the way, Rob has led his team to a 4-0 record so far this season.
“By different, do you mean I should be taking more drastic measures to keep the jersey chasers away from you? There are far more of them than there were last year, so I’ve been seriously considering some Krav Maga courses, just to hedge my bets.”
He laughs, his amusement coloring his eyes a more vibrant shade of green. “I know I should probably make a feeble attempt to dissuade you from violence, but part of me kind of wants to see you throw down in my honor. It’d be hot, no doubt.”
The comeback on the tip of my tongue gets swallowed by Rob’s mouth reassuring my insecurity without a single spoken word. His lips touch mine with love, his breath warms the cold places in my heart, and his moan of appreciation sends tingles all the way to my toes.
He pries my hand from its clutch on his shoulder, placing it against the tattoo over his heart, a silent reminder of where his loyalty lies. It’s my name etched into his skin; no one else’s.
He’s not in another girl’s dorm room, panting as his body grows increasingly aroused. He sleeps with me every night just because he wants to hold me. He comes home to me after every away trip. And when he’s gone, he texts me as much as possible.
Rob’s mouth travels a lazy trail of damp heat across my jaw and down my neck, where he pauses to inhale deeply as he gathers me in his arms, pulling our bodies closer together.
I’m already begging for him to speed things along by wrapping my legs around his waist, crossing my ankles over his tight ass, and prompting him to move in earnest, but I can’t resist screwing with him a little even as we struggle to breathe.
I never imagined before Rob what happens in bed could be as much fun, as it is pleasurable. “Or maybe you mean it will be different because you’ve finally developed a penchant for cheerleaders? You could have your pick of the squad; I’ve seen the way they look at you, even when you’re only running drills.”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping in to watch practices,” he mumbles against my neck between kisses. “Are you trying to see if you can mess with my game? Or are you training me to get better at resisting distraction?”
“A good football wife helps her man in any way she can.” I’m just happy my schedule this semester allows me to see him a little more.
I feel him frown against my skin. “That’s another thing I’d love to be different. I hate that stupid club.”
I pull his face up so we’re eye to eye. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to marry me anymore? You don’t want me to be Mrs. Falls?”
A wry smile pulls at his lips. “It is fascinating to me how you’re always able to turn anything I say into exactly what you want to hear.”
“Ooh.” I place a soft kiss on his dimple, darting my tongue out to sink into the indentation. “Maybe you should try a different major, too. It seems like you might be interested in a psychology degree instead of computer engineering.”
He nods his head, pretending to mull it over. “I might be willing to change the play on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You be my personal guinea pig. I’d love to know exactly how your mind works. It would be like unlocking the secrets of the universe. Pretty sure that’s worth at least a PhD though, instead of a measly bachelor’s degree.” His tongue swipes along my lower lip. “You know, I like the sound of Dr. Falls. Sure beats Superjock. So, I’m making it my personal goal this year to know everything there is to possibly know about you.”
I frown as he goes back to his abandoned work on my neck. That always seems to be his favorite place. “You already know more about me than anyone else on the planet.”
“I know the easy things,” he whispers. “Like your favorite color, food, and music. I know I get more of a reaction from you when I kiss your neck. Or how you think you’re being so sneaky when you work out in the gym all the way across campus, which hardly anyone goes to, so no one will see you running on the treadmill. I know you still have no idea what you want to major in. But, I have no clue why you’re with a bonehead like me. I don’t know if it bothers you I’m Catholic because you’re Orthodox. We’ve never discussed your thoughts on how many kids you want to have. And most importantly, I still don’t know how to actually get you to agree to marry me and quit worrying about other girls.”
Damn. I really did think I was being sneaky with my gym coup. “Well, you’d have to propose, for starters.”
His head pops up, a shocked expression on his flushed face. “Evie, will you marry me?”
“Where’s my ring?” I hold out my hand and stifle my laughter as he stares at my empty palm with growing alarm.
“If I had a ring to put on your finger right now, you’d say yes?”
A dramatic sigh falls from my lips. “I admit, I’m disappointed in the proposal. The heat of physical passion is hardly an original way to do it. I always thought you were so much more romantic than this.”
He raises his eyebrow. “You…think I’m romantic? Me? The guy who needed a freaking list to figure out how to win you over?”
“Yes, you. The guy who was sick of failing and me being too stubborn to notice, so you tricked me into giving you the intel you needed to make the play. The guy who knows I’m PMSing before I do, and exactly how to make me feel better. The guy who insisted on rooming with TJ this year and me rooming with Harper, so we could have more privacy in the evenings even though he misses having Alex around all the time. The guy who shows up at my door after every away game with a bouquet of flowers. The guy who thinks he’s so sneaky by memorizing my schedule, so he can make it seem like he randomly appears during the course of my day, because he knows I want my independence but still struggle with feeling safe.”
His eyes grow wide. “I…I don’t do that.”
“Yes, you do.” I plant a firm kiss on his mouth. “And I love you for it.”
He nuzzles his nose against mine. “If you really loved me, you’d just go ahead and tell me your idea of a perfect proposal, so I won’t screw that up, too.”
I open my mouth to mess with him some more, but the door swings open, cutting off my plans.
“Oh my God, you guys!” Harper screeches.
Rob drops his head to my shoulder and moans, not in a good way. “Add forgetting to lock the door to my list of fuck ups.”
He rolls off me, and for once, I’m thankful he isn’t tenting his shorts after being pressed against me.
We exchange a confused glance.
Harper isn’t grossed out or turned the other way until we can get ourselves together. She’s jumping up and down, clapping her hands in excitement while TJ rolls his eyes behind her.
“You made the WAGS pages!”
I feel like one of those cartoon characters who physically jams a finger in one ear, then shakes their head to be sure they’ve heard correctly. “What?”
For his part, Rob’s mouth drops open as he gapes at her.
“You know, the stupid sites that keep track of all the athlete’s hot girlfriends?” TJ offers.
Rob scrambles for my laptop before I can shake off my stupor. “Which one?”
As Harper rolls off a list of sites longer than I knew existed, Rob’s fingers fly over the keyboard, opening tabs and punching in addresses faster than I can keep up in my current state of bewilderment.
“What the fuck is this?” Rob roars.
In shock, I stare at the screen where he has at least a dozen sites pulled up, containing pictures of us together as well as me alone, a short bio, which thankfully doesn’t include much information, and praise for Rob’s current season. They all seem to have a common element, something that joins them together.
#FootballRoyalty
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Harper squeals. “You’re going to be named president of the Wives’ Club!”
That only seems to make Rob angrier. “How do they have these pictures? Half of these are from spring break last year! You’re practically naked!”
“I’m wearing a tankini!” I defend. He, of all people, should know how difficult that was for me to even put on. Sure, the tank top provided more coverage than a string bikini, but I constantly worried about potential wardrobe malfunctions. “You were the one who was half naked in that SI spread last month!”
And oh, how my friends tortured me over that. Jess and Alyssa texted me non-stop for a week, telling me my boyfriend was hot as fuck. Like I needed a reminder.
“That’s not even close to the same thing. I’m a guy. I walk around without my shirt on all the time,” he grits out. “That was a planned shoot. One I wanted no part of, if you’ll recall. You, Alex, and Mike convinced me to do it. These are our private pictures. This was our vacation together. They had no right to post this stuff. And half these pictures are of you walking around campus! I wanna know who the fuck is following you and taking your photograph without your consent.”
My face heats as my heart rate soars. The only words permeating my anger are “not the same thing.”
“Oh, I see how it is. You can have girls trail after you all over campus, offering you God only knows what sexual favors; you can have your oiled-up abs displayed in a national magazine for anyone to masturbate over, but you’re going to throw a shit fit about a stupid website naming me a hot girlfriend of one of the most popular up-and-coming quarterbacks in the NCAA? That’s really fucking fair.”
“I didn’t…” Rob sputters, pulling at his hair as his face grows red. “You know what? I don’t care if it’s not feminist of me. Yeah. This pisses me the fuck off.”
“Why?” TJ throws in. “So your girlfriend is hot? What’s the big deal?”
Harper punches TJ’s shoulder and grins when he rubs the spot.
“I don’t want other people thinking she’s hot!” Rob explodes. “I sure as fuck don’t want them jacking off to her half-naked pictures!”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to yell back that I’d be grateful to have anyone jack-off to my image, let alone thoughts of me, since Rob admits he still doesn’t, but I have barely enough sense to hold back, even though my entire body vibrates with anger.
The door swings open again, halting my careful deliberation on how to respond, and Alex strolls in. He plops down on Harper’s bed like he usually does, glancing at the various expressions on all our faces. “What’s up? I heard Rob yelling all the way out in the hall.”
“Evie made a couple of WAGS lists and Rob’s freaking the fuck out,” TJ explains, much calmer than Rob would have.
“Get you some, babe!” Alex reaches over to bump fists with me.
“See?” I turn toward Rob. “Alex is happy for me. He isn’t acting like some deranged caveman. He knows this is a good thing.”
Rob’s eyes pop out of his skull. After opening and closing his mouth several times with no sound escaping, he throws my laptop on the mattress and gets off the bed, only to pace the room, still pulling his hands through his hair. “How is this a good thing?”
“It’s good exposure for you and for the whole team,” TJ shrugs. “It’s not like she’s getting offers for sex. I don’t understand why you’re so pissed off.”
“Yeah. And I’m with Evie. You can’t be angry about this when you’ve been in a magazine all oiled up with your drool-worthy pecs and abs on display.” Harper aims a smug wink in TJ’s direction when he scoffs.
“Anyone who saw those pictures can clearly read her name tattooed on my chest and know I’m off the market!” Rob throws his arms out, barely missing the standing lamp in the corner of the room.
Alex cackles from Harper’s bed. “That’s what’s bothering you? That people might not know she’s off limits? You do understand WAGS is an acronym for wives and girlfriends, right?”
Rob throws his head back, staring at the ceiling and sighing. “Mike would be on my side. Wait ‘til he finds out about this.”
What really irritates me, is knowing Rob’s probably not wrong. Mike would likely take Rob’s side. Sometimes it feels like they treat me as if I’m a child instead of a young, independent woman, capable of making my own choices and way in the world.
I put up with it because they mean well and their over-protectiveness can be endearing. Right now, it seems more like a short leash.
“If you’re so worried about it, then put a ring on it,” Harper advises. “It’s not like Evie asked for this, but she damn well deserves it after everything this team put her through.”
Anxiety replaces my fury. I cut my gaze to Harper, silently begging her to shut up. She knows better than to talk about last year’s initiation.
Harper doesn’t notice my glare, just digs in her heels and keeps going. “You guys put in a lot of work, sure, but you also get all the glory and attention. You don’t realize how hard it is on us, being your girlfriends. So what if other guys think we’re hot? If you’re worried about us cheating on you, just know we have the same fears every time we’re not around you. We have to watch other girls throw themselves at you all the time. We work just as hard at our appearances to keep you interested as you do at drills and improving your game.”
I shake my head at her frantically, trying to get her to shut up, because she’s getting a little too close to things that aren’t supposed to be revealed…for our boyfriends’ own good. Just because Jamal and Tyesha are gone doesn’t mean the team couldn’t still face repercussions from that night.
“And another thing.” Harper approaches Rob, then jabs her finger into his chest just like I do when I really get going. “It’s totally reasonable people are noticing your girlfriend. How dare you be in a serious relationship with her and expect the media to only be up your golden-boy ass? Maybe if people weren’t dropping your name in Heisman talk already this season, they wouldn’t care who you’re with. In a way, this is all your fault.”
Oh, shit. She could not have chosen a poorer phrase.
The fight drains out of Rob as his face pales. Alex and I exchange a quick worried glance, but before either of us can say anything to deescalate the situation, Rob storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“I’ll go talk to him.” Alex pecks my forehead before racing out of the room to find Rob and hopefully talk some sense into him.
My head pounds with the beginnings of a stress headache, the likes of which I haven’t experienced since senior year of high school. No matter how much I rub my forehead, it doesn’t ebb.
“He’ll get over it.” TJ takes a seat on Harper’s bed. “I guess I would kind of freak out if Harper’s pictures were all over the internet, too, but it’s just part of being in the spotlight. It’s something we all have to get used to now that we have a winning team.”
Harper sits beside TJ, rubbing his shoulder. “You guys deserve all this recognition. You’re having an amazing season, and after all the shit Jamal and his thugs pulled last year, you’ve worked really hard to turn it around.”
I can’t help but agree. One wouldn’t necessarily think a handful of players with bad attitudes could completely derail an NCAA team like they did last year, but this season’s record proves just how much control those few people had.
“It is kind of freaky to know people have been randomly taking my picture all over campus,” I admit.
More than freaky. Now that my anger has subsided, the urge to hide in my closet from the world rears its ugly head. Rob not being here doesn’t help matters.
My phone signals several rapid-fire incoming texts. I reach for it on the nightstand and swipe to the messages.
Jess: OMG, you’re famous!
Alyssa: Did you see you’re trending?
#FootballRoyalty
Tini: Papou and YiaYia are gonna freak, sis.
Jeremy: Is Rob flipping shit about this yet?
I don’t bother responding. It’s nice they’re all excited for me, but as my sister pointed out, there will definitely be repercussions to this sudden internet fame, far beyond Rob’s unfair anger.
I flop down on my bed, mentally preparing to defend myself against the inevitable judgments of my family and Mike.
“TJ, would you mind giving us a girl’s night?” Harper quietly asks.
“Not at all, babe.” TJ leans in to kiss her before winking at me. “I’ll find Alex and Rob. Help talk him down from the ledge.”
After TJ closes the door behind him, Harper turns her attention back to me. “You really deserve this after what Rob did to you last year at the initiation, you know. No other girlfriend stayed the course after that night.”
I bury my face in my pillows, trying to catch a whiff of Rob’s scent to ease my anxiety. Harper isn’t wrong. After a few months, even Leticia bailed on Jackson. She couldn’t get over what happened, and never saw it as a sexual assault.
“You’ve worked hard to get here,” Harper continues. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You bust your ass in the gym, you eat right, you follow the Wives’ Bible to a T. I’m sorry Rob wasn’t more supportive. That’s so fucking hypocritical, I can’t even.”
Damn it. Does everyone know about my gym time?
“He just worries, that’s all.” I can’t stand to hear anyone talk badly about Rob. And it’s not like anyone can possibly understand why he worries more than most boyfriends. Except Alex and Mike.
But…Alex didn’t seem too bent about tonight’s news. Then again, he didn’t see everything Rob saw.
A sudden burst of laughter escapes my throat.
“What’s so funny?” Harper questions, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“It’s funny how in high school I was practically invisible, but now that I’ve completely changed my appearance, I’m suddenly hot girlfriend material.”
That’s not actually funny at all. It’s a marker of how superficial our society has become. No, what’s really hysterical to me is that underneath the tankini in those photos lies evidence of why I should never be included in a WAGS list.
“You obviously weren’t invisible to Rob,” Harper points out. “You’ve been together since high school.”
“Yeah.”
He saw me when no one else did. But, how would he react if he were ever to see all of me?