The front door slams shut, jerking me out of my catnap. Ugh. Hangovers are the worst. Every time I do this to myself, I promise it’ll be the last, but it never is.
I struggled through my shift at the library with a pounding headache and cotton mouth. My stomach has been too queasy to eat anything more than a cup of chicken noodle soup on my lunch break. I’ll have to work out twice as hard tomorrow to counteract all the liquor I drank last night.
I have no idea how those clichéd sorority sisters do it on a weekly basis. Don’t they realize how many calories are in their favorite fruity mixed drinks? Beer is even worse. It’s like drinking a meal, complete with the bloating and overly full feeling.
Which is precisely why I stick to Ouzo.
That, and it usually doesn’t get me as hammered as I was last night, or leave me with a wicked hangover the next day.
Then again, I don’t typically shoot nearly a whole fifth of it in one sitting.
There has to be a better way of dealing with the sororities who crash the Sig O parties after home games. Tensions between the Greeks and the Wives have been steadily increasing since last season’s championship run. If I don’t figure out a way to stop the poaching attempts soon, we’re going to devolve back to blowjob contests like freshman year.
That can never be allowed to happen.
No one is going to be raped on my watch.
Not even the single guys who welcome the sorority sisters and enjoy the female competition for their time and attention.
Maybe I can go to the Sig O president and work out some new rules for attendance. Each guy who doesn’t have a girlfriend could be afforded a single female attendee. That would go a long way toward easing some of the animosity between the Wives and the randoms that show up each weekend. Then again, Alex will be the first to complain and shoot down the idea because he’s so damn fond of threesomes. And some of the players blatantly cheat on their girlfriends, using the parties and getting drunk as an excuse.
Then, of course, Harper and I have to deal with the messy fallout from a teary-eyed girl who truly believed she was her player’s one and only.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
There has to be a solution that will work for everyone involved, but I can’t find it when my head’s pounding a steady beat. I need water. I need aspirin. I need time and quiet to solve this puzzle.
Just as I work up the monumental willpower to climb out of bed, a loud scream of “Fuck!” tears through the silence of the apartment.
Before I can make it to the living room, the crash of shattering glass assaults my already fragile ears.
I round the corner expecting to find Rob bleeding from some kitchen mishap only to find him staring at the wall across the expanse of the living room. There, twinkling like diamonds beside the glow of lights from our Christmas tree, a smattering of glass shards highlights the deep dent in the drywall. His chest heaves like he’s been running drills, his face is red, and an expression of pure fury makes his eyes seem like the darkest sky before a storm rains down violence upon the earth.
With his hands on his hips and his laser-like focus trained on the mess he created, he doesn’t even notice me gaping at him.
“Rob?”
He jerks like my quiet voice is the most terrifying sound he’s ever heard. Louder than any unexpected crack of thunder.
“Evie,” he breathes, running his hands through his hair as he physically tries to pull himself together. “I-I didn’t know you were home. I thought you’d still be at the library.”
I glance back and forth between him and the remnants of the candy dish that had once graced the kitchen counter. “They let me go a little early because they were overstaffed. I was reading back in the bedroom. What happened?”
He shakes his head, then grabs the broom and dust pan from the corner, loping over to the mess with footsteps that belie his level of anger. “Nothing.”
“This isn’t nothing. You never lose your temper like this anymore. Did they tell you the Heisman committee is going to screw you over again like they did last year?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He picks shards of glass out of the carpet, never looking my way.
“Oh my God!” I throw my hands up in the air, angry enough to join Rob in his glass-smashing tantrum. “This is unbelievable! They bumped you last year because they didn’t think your numbers were quite there yet. What’s their excuse this year?”
“Maybe I should just quit,” he mutters. “Yeah. If I drop off the team, then they can’t do anything.”
“Hell no! You’re not going to give those snooty reporters the satisfaction of running you out of the game. You’re the highest-ranked quarterback in the division! Your stats blow the competition out of the water! Let them keep their stupid popularity contest. There’s no way you won’t go in the first round of the draft next year, and then you’ll be laughing all the way to the bank and the NFL.”
Rob continues muttering to himself as he cleans, completely ignoring my rant.
“Did they even give you a reason why? Is it because you’re shy on camera? Do they think you don’t have a flashy enough personality to make a good media frenzy? Is it because you refused to do any more half-naked spreads for SI?” A sinking feeling grips my stomach. “Oh my God. Is it because I got paid to do a few ads for the campus coffeehouse? I told your dad that was a stupid idea, even though we really needed the money. I knew that would come back to haunt us. It’s complete hypocrisy that you’re bound so tightly by all these rules and regulations. If you sneeze funny, the NCAA will be up your ass with an impropriety investigation. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to your dad when he said it was okay for me to do exactly what you’re not allowed to.”
I don’t stop to breathe until Rob stands in front of me, his hands resting on my shoulders with a calming weight.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assures me. “Dad watches out for my career. He wouldn’t have said it was okay, if it wasn’t.”
“Then why aren’t you being nominated again?” I sound like a whiny little child, and I don’t even care.
Rob takes a deep breath, removes his hands, and squeezes his eyes shut. “I got it. They’ll announce it publicly tomorrow.”
“Holy shit!” Excitement and pride flood my veins, overwhelming my muscles with a need for release, so I throw myself at Rob, wrapping around him like a vine and toppling him to the floor. My whole body trembles. I let the energy flow through me, kissing Rob’s warm skin anywhere and everywhere, wanting to soothe his shyness and show him he can totally handle everything that’s about to come his way. I’ll be there to support him when the cameras and reporters overwhelm him, as they tend to do.
“I’m so proud of you!” Kiss. “You’re going to be amazing!” Lick. “This is your year, Falls. I can feel it!” Squeeze.
He doesn’t resist when our tongues do the rest of the celebrating, kissing me back deeply and thoroughly.
I pull away to smile down at him when air becomes a necessity. “Finally, the rest of the world appreciates you the way I do.” Another quick taste of his delicious lips. “Well, maybe not exactly the same way. I’m not sharing this part, and you can’t make me.”
My effort to make him laugh and pull him out of his introverted shell falls short as evidenced by the frown that appears on his handsome face.
“I don’t want it, Evie.”
“Oh, come on. It won’t be that bad. Sure, it’ll be a lot of shaking hands, smiling for the camera, and schmoozing, but your dad usually handles that stuff, anyway. All you have to do is follow his lead.”
Rob shakes his head, gazing at the Christmas tree instead of at me. “It’s the kiss of death. Everyone knows it. The Heisman brings nothing but bad luck.”
Football players. Superstitious to a fault. “That’s just a bunch of people blaming their poor choices on a piece of metal. Frankly, they let the fame go to their heads and start acting stupid, and no one calls them out on it because they’re elite athletes. But, you’re not like that.” I pepper his face with more kisses, enjoying the scratch of his end-of-day stubble against my lips. “Don’t worry, Falls. If your ego gets too out of control, I promise to keep you in line and not let you do anything dumb.”
He turns his beautiful blue-green gaze back to me, brushing hair out of my face. “You’re so good to me, Mrs. Falls.”
My smile feels so wide it almost hurts. “That’s what football wives are for. And I’m the best of the best, so don’t you forget it.”
“I could never forget,” he whispers. “You know what would make today really great?”
“What’s that?” A congratulatory blowjob is the only thing on my mind, but I’ll hear him out. If he’d prefer a full-body massage, then that’s what my nominee will get.
“Marry me today.”
“Hmm.” I pretend to think it over. “Yeah. I can see how that would be a unique story for the interviews this week. How many Heisman nominees are also husbands? Okay. Let’s do it.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “If you’re implying I want to marry you to make myself look better, then not only must I be the worst boyfriend in the world, but I’m one hundred percent declining this nomination, which, by the way, I don’t even really want.”
I roll my eyes. Rob can be so sensitive, sometimes. “Why don’t you want it? You deserve it. All that stuff about the kiss of death is ridiculous, and you’re smart enough to know that.”
“It’s not completely ridiculous. I’ll likely get drafted to the worst team in the league if I win.”
“There’s a valid reason it works out that way.” I kiss the tip of his nose. “Once they have you, they won’t be the worst team in the league anymore.”
“You have way more faith in me than I deserve.”
“Obviously not, since you’re being nominated for the highest honor in college football.”
“It’s not an honor. Not anymore.” He frowns, cuts his gaze to the side then returns it to me. “You’re not going to let me walk away from this, are you?”
I jab my finger into his solid chest. “It is an honor, and no. Why would you even say that?”
“It’s a joke, Evie. It’s not about skill or stats or which school you play for anymore. It’s about the media circus. I don’t want to contribute to that.”
He makes a valid point I’m not about to argue with, but his ass is going to be in New York next weekend even if I have to tie him up and drag him there. Mike and Alex will help me if I can’t make him see reason.
“What’s it gonna take for me to get you excited about this, huh, Mr. Doom and Gloom? Do I need to start a Twitter campaign for your fans to convince you of how awesome you are? Because I can do that.”
He rolls his eyes. Rob’s always very wary about my social media presence ever since the WAGS pages got ahold of pictures of us on spring break freshman year. That stupid hashtag still follows our every move on campus.
“Will you be happy if I give you blowjobs three times a day for the next week? You’re always such an agreeable boy after you’re satisfied.”
He really frowns. “Have you been using that as a tool to get me to do your bidding all this time?”
“I admit nothing.” Totally.
“That’s easy enough to remedy. No more blowjobs. I don’t really like them anyway.”
I hope my expression doesn’t falter the way my heartbeat does. “Liar.”
Please, be lying. I’ve worked so hard to erase the memories of that night and what that sorority girl took away from us.
The corner of Rob’s mouth lifts slightly in an almost smirk. “Fine. I’m lying. But don’t act like you don’t get anything out of it. I never take more than I give. And maybe I’ve been using my mad skills to get you to do my bidding.”
“Have you?”
“No.” He tries to hold back his grin. “Not every time.”
“So what you’re saying is, if I keep you in bed all week and let you have your way with me, you’ll be excited to get on the plane to New York? Because I’m down with skipping classes all week to make that happen. I’m going to have to skip Friday anyway for travel.”
I’m so down with that. A full week in bed? Maybe Rob will quit holding back and make love to me, and we can finally leave Jackson in our past where he belongs.
Rob pulls us both to a sitting position, then hoists me off his lap. He rises to his feet and paces the floor. “I don’t want you to come to New York with me, Evie. I’ll agree to go if you promise to stay home and not watch the awards ceremony.”
For a few moments, no response leaves my lips. I replay his words in my mind to be sure I heard him right. I can’t understand what’s going on here. We’re a team; he always says so. The plan all along has been for me to accompany him. What’s changed?
“I-okay. Whatever you want.” Being a football wife sucks so hard, sometimes. But, if that’s what he needs from me, then I’ll stay behind. Whatever makes it easier for him. I know he’s shy, and I get how hard it is for him to play his part in the public eye. I thought in some ways I was his comfort as much as he is mine, but I guess I was wrong. Turns out, we’re still learning new things about each other every day…even three years into our relationship.
Numb, and trying to hide my tears, I get up from my spot on the floor and head to the kitchen to make dinner. Rob’s on a pretty strict diet during the season, but it’s Sunday, so he won’t have had the opportunity to eat with the team. He freaks out if I skip a meal, and after the bombshell he just dropped on me, I don’t feel like dealing with another lecture about taking better care of myself.
I feel his larger-than-life presence follow me until his warmth seeps into my back. “Evie.”
The tone of his voice pricks my senses. The patronizing way he says it riles me in a way only he can seem to do.
“I said it was fine. I’ll stay home. It makes sense. I’m sure most guys who have girlfriends don’t bring them to the awards ceremony.”
“Evie.” His large hands on my shoulders collapse the last shred of restraint I possess.
I shake off his touch. “Don’t. You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m sure your reasons are valid.”
“They gave me the media packet today. To prep me. They…they’re going to talk about the assault,” he chokes out. “If you won’t let me decline this, then at least let me protect you from the media shoving in your face what you don’t even remember.”
My knees buckle, but I grip the countertop to keep myself upright. His explanation shouldn’t shock me as much as it does. I’ve known all along this day would eventually come. It’s funny that no matter how much you think you prepare yourself for the inevitable, it still knocks you flat on your ass the day it finally arrives.
I inhale a deep, calming breath before turning to face Rob’s sad blue eyes. “What are they going to talk about? How will they present it?”
His laughter doesn’t hold the least bit of humor. “They want to paint me out to be some hero. It’s fucking ridiculous. I told them I didn’t want it mentioned, but it seems I don’t have any choice. The public loves a good sob story.”
“But, it’s not.”
Rob blinks at me.
“It’s not some sob story. It has a happy ending. And you are a hero. My hero. People are going to find out about it. We can’t hide forever. But, they won’t know all the details. It was a closed courtroom. The records are sealed because we were minors.” No one will know about my scars.
“I’m not a hero,” Rob insists, running his hands through his hair. His tell when he’s really irritated. “And I don’t want to gamble with the whole world finding out the details. Everyone has a price. The nurses who treated you, the police who took my statement. A closed courtroom and sealed testimony means shit when someone’s in debt and suddenly offered a way out. If this is the cost of fame, then I don’t want it. It’s not worth it.”
“Wow. Someone certainly thinks highly of himself. How much money do you think the media is willing to hand over for the sordid details about your back story? You’re not a celebrity, Falls. You’re up for a Heisman award. I don’t think you’re going to fetch the kinds of dollar amounts you’re imagining.”
He backs up, leaning against the counter top and crossing his arms over his chest. “How can you joke about this?”
Because if I don’t joke, I’ll cry. And then Jackson wins. “You said yourself you’re not being given a choice. It’s going to happen. At least make it happen on your terms. Face it head on, instead of burying it like you have something to hide. You didn’t do anything wrong. You saved my life. That does actually make you a hero.”
His eyes turn a frightening shade of green as his skin pales. “I did plenty wrong that day. I don’t intend to repeat my mistakes. I want off this merry-go-round. It’s bad enough you’re being dragged into the public eye just by being with me. If I don’t draw the line now, they’ll walk all over us for the rest of my career. Do you really want that? Because you put on a damn good game face, Mrs. Falls, but I don’t want that life for you. I hate that you’re constantly pretending to be someone you’re not because you think it makes me look better.”
“I’ve told you before that’s for me as much as it is for you.” I approach him slowly, maintaining his gaze until I’m close enough to feel his breath on my face and wrap my arms around his waist. “But, I’ll concede your position. Neither of us likes pretending. It is what it is, though, and it’s better than giving them the parts of us we want to keep for ourselves. Now, I have a proposition for you.”
He raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t return my embrace. “I’m listening.”
“Just because we wear masks doesn’t mean we can’t still be ourselves. So, let’s take this bad thing and make some good come from it. You’re in a position to give real hope to people who’ve suffered similar trauma. To give a voice to those who are too afraid to speak up for themselves. If you quit, then who will be their champion the way you’ve been mine? Not everyone is lucky enough to have their own personal hero. But you can be that just by refusing to remain silent. You can help change the tide, Robert Falls.”
He pulls me tightly against him, searching my face, likely for any signs of misgiving. He won’t find it.
“I’ve told you before you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, but I don’t tell you often enough you’re the most amazing one, too. What’s the game plan, Mrs. Falls?”
“The same as it’s always been. We’re a team. We win together; we lose together, and we never go down without a fight.”
He nods, his expression solemn. “All right, then. Together.”
Three years, and it’s still our team motto. No one can beat us as long as we remember.