First Down: A Fake Dating College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play)

First Down: Chapter 10



WINNING IS ALWAYS FUN, but the first home win of the season is something else. The turnout was incredible; every seat in McKee’s massive stadium was filled. Between the marching band and the shouting from the student section, I could barely hear the referees. I’m still hopped up on adrenaline an hour later, ready to celebrate with the team.

“There’s a bar in town,” Bo says as we gather up our duffels and head outside. “Red’s. You coming?”

“I won’t drink, but yeah, I’m coming.”

“Sweet.” He hollers the same question to Demarius, who gives us a thumbs up from across the parking lot. “There’s always a ton of girls there after a win, so if you’re looking to hook up, you won’t have any trouble.”

“Good to know.”

Not that I plan on it. One, because I don’t want to create false expectations for some poor girl, and two, because the only one I’ve been fantasizing about lately is Bex. I’ve tried not to—it’s not like anything is going to happen—but whenever I rub one out, she’s who I picture. Her fantastic tits. The way her nose scrunches up when she’s frustrated. The pouty curve of her lips.

Fuck. I need to figure out a way to put a stop to this, especially if she’s going to be my tutor.

“There he is,” Coop says as he walks toward me. He hugs me, then steps back so Seb can do the same. “Great game, bro.”

I smile. “Didn’t know you came.”

“The perks of having an afternoon scrimmage. Which I crushed, by the way. I’m ready to relax.”

“I’m heading to a bar, want to come?”

“Red’s?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Sweet,” says Seb. “That place is great. I’m down.”

“Same,” says Cooper. “Maybe I’ll see Elle.”

“That girl from the sorority party? I thought you didn’t do more than one hookup.” Seb knocks his shoulder into Cooper’s.

“I don’t.” He grins. “But that doesn’t mean she can’t try.”

I roll my eyes as I get into my car. “Show me where to go.” I wrestle my phone out of my jeans pocket, unlock it, and toss it to Coop. “Do I have any messages? Didn’t get a chance to check, ESPN wanted to do a live interview right after the game ended.”

He snorts. “Only you could make that sound casual. And yeah, Mom and Dad texted. Ooh, and someone else.”

“Who?” I try to sneak a peek while we’re at a red light, but Coop holds the phone to his chest.

“Look, Seb.” He hands the phone over to Seb, who whistles.

“I regret this,” I mutter. “Who is it?”

“It’s that girl,” says Seb. “Beckett.”

My heart thumps extra hard in my chest. “Beckett Wood?”

“Do you know more than one Beckett?”

“What’s it say?”

“She wants to talk.”

“That’s it?”

Seb and Coop exchange a glance. “Should there be more?” Coop asks.

“I mean, no.” I make a right at Coop’s direction. “But since she wouldn’t let me just hire her, I’ve been trying to figure out her price.”

“Oh, good,” says Seb. “Especially since you went ahead and lied about her being your tutor.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Maybe she wants you to hook up with her,” Coop muses. “As payment, I mean.”

I think back to our conversation after that first class. I pretty much stomped on any chances of that happening. “Dude, I’m not going to sleep with my tutor.”

“What? She’s hot.”

“And my teammate’s ex.”

Coop waves his hand. “Doesn’t count because they broke up before you got here.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Well, he’s an idiot anyway.”

I park the car in a lot down the street from Red’s and heave out a sigh. “Won’t argue that point.”

Outside the bar, which looks packed with college kids and town regulars alike, I hold up my phone. “I’ll be there in a minute. Order me a non-alcoholic beer, okay?”

Bex’s text is three simple words: Can we talk?

I call her instead of texting back. This feels too important for a text, and fine, maybe I want to hear her voice.

“Callahan,” she says when she picks up.

“Bex. What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

I glance around. A bunch of girls in jerseys—some in seemingly nothing but the jersey, their shorts are so short—wave to me as they cross the street and head into Red’s.

“Downtown Moorbridge, at Red’s. You can’t talk over the phone?”

“Not about this.”

My grip on the phone tightens. “Are you okay?”

I hear keys and a beep; presumably she’s unlocking her car. “I’m fine. I just think if we’re going to discuss the terms of this… arrangement, it should be in person.”

“Arrangement, huh?”

“I’ll come to Red’s.”

“Where are you? I’m sober, I can pick you up.”

“Pine Ridge.”

“Where’s that?”

She laughs. The sweet, throaty sound makes my heart beat a bit faster. “Not too far. I’ll see you soon, Callahan.”

“You can call me James, you know.”

There’s a pause, then I hear her car turn on. “I know.”

I search for Pine Ridge as soon as she hangs up. It’s not too far from here, about thirty minutes or so. What was she doing there?

Maybe she’s got a new boyfriend, my mind taunts.

I force myself to head inside, although all I really want is to wait out here. I should celebrate the win, after all. We crushed Notre Dame tonight. As soon as I enter the bar, I see my brothers and teammates waving to me, so I head over to the pool tables in the back. Coop hands me my non-alcoholic beer—which tastes almost the same as a regular beer, even though he never believes me—and nudges my shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

I lean back against the wall, getting comfortable. “She’s coming here to talk.” I feel more relaxed already. Whatever Bex wants in exchange for tutoring, I’ll give her. A ridiculous hourly rate, whatever. I can afford it. And the fact it means I’ll be seeing a lot more of her? Not complaining about that either.

“About the… thing?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes. The thing.”

“Fucking A,” he says. “That’s great, man.”

I watch as Seb lines up for his next shot in the game of pool he’s playing against Demarius. One of the things I like best about him is that he can fit in anywhere. He’s never spent time with these teammates of mine, yet he looks perfectly at home. His attempt goes wide, and he laughs at himself, accepting another shot from Demarius.

“Every missed turn is a shot,” Coop murmurs. “We’re going to be wiping him off the floor at the end of the night.”

“Is he your brother?” someone asks. I turn; there’s a girl at my elbow, giving me doe-eyes as she sips her beer. She’s pretty, with bleach-blonde hair tucked back over one shoulder and pouty lips. Her v-neck shirt shows off the top of a lacy pink bralette. Seeing that she has my attention, she leans in a bit, her hand grazing my bare arm.

I smile at her. “Yeah, baby. Want an introduction?”

“Tempting,” she says. “But something tells me you have more… experience.”

This time, the tips of her fingers touch my jeans. She bites her lip a little, one perfectly manicured finger rubbing over the inside seam. “Don’t you want to ask my name?”

I play along. “What’s your name?”

“Kathleen,” she says. “But you can call me Kitty.”

Cooper, the asshole, tries to turn his snort into a sneeze. I know I should disentangle myself from her, point her in the direction of any of my more willing teammates if fucking a football player is what she’s after, but her touch does feel good. I’m not so desperate that she’s actively turning me on, but it’s been a while since this has happened.

Besides the kiss Bex and I shared.

Damnit, now I’m thinking about Bex again. As if she can tell my mind is in the gutter, Kitty leans in even further, until her lips are grazing my ear. “Can I put you down on the guest list for Kappa Alpha Theta’s party tomorrow? I’m a pledge.”

“Sorry, but I don’t do parties during the season,” I tell Kitty.

“Just come for a little while. The theme is ABC.” She kisses my neck, punctuating each word with a nip of her lips. “Anything. But. Clothes.”

I slowly extricate myself from her grasp. I’ll bet she’s a clinger when she’s drunk. If I say yes to this party, she’ll consider us dates and refuse to leave my side the whole night. Plus, on a Sunday? I haven’t gone to a party on a Sunday since freshman year. I’d much rather do homework while NFL games play on the television.

And I’d much rather it was Bex asking.

“As much as I’d love to see you make a paper bag sexy, sweetheart, it’s not personal. It’s about football.”

She pouts playfully. “So serious.”

Across the room, the door to the bar opens. Bex isn’t particularly tall, but I think I catch sight of that strawberry-blonde hair. I glance at Darryl, but he’s deep in conversation with a couple of guys from the team. “Maybe you’ll have better luck with him,” I say, pointing him out to Kitty as I head to the front.

Bex is wearing a McKee sweatshirt and a pair of jean shorts, plus sandals, and these dangly earrings that I realize are little sculpted pieces of pie. Adorable. Her eyes light up when she sees me, and she stands on her tiptoes to get close to my ear as she says, “Want to talk outside? I swear half of the McKee student body is in here.”

Hell, I’d follow her into the bathrooms if that’s where she wanted to go. I let her lead the way.

She steps around the side of the bar once we’re outside, away from the windows. “Darryl’s all the way in the back,” I tell her. “I sent a girl his way.”

“And I’m sure he’s flirting with her.” She sighs. “Never mind that he came to the diner today and demanded we get back together.”

I push down the possessive streak threatening to run through me. I have no claim to her. A kiss doesn’t mean anything, and with luck, she’s about to be my tutor. Good guys don’t sleep with their tutors. Or their teammate’s exes.

“Diner? I thought you worked at The Purple Kettle.”

“I do. The diner is my mother’s. It’s in Pine Ridge, hence the drive from there. Thanks for waiting.”

I offer my beer to her. “I should have asked if you wanted a drink. Want a sip? It’s non-alcoholic.”

She curls her hand over mine and tilts the neck of the bottle into her mouth. I shouldn’t be staring, but I can’t help it, especially when she looks up at me through her lashes as she steps back. “Thanks. Do you not drink?”

I clear my throat. “Um, I drink, but not much during the season.”

She nods. “Smart of you. I remember Darryl complaining about being hungover at practice.”

I take another sip of the drink. “So, does this mean you reconsidered my proposal? Name your price, I’ll pay it.”

A smile curves over her lips. “I know. You’ve texted me some truly ridiculous offers over the past few days.”

“So, which is it? Basket of puppies? Lifetime season tickets to the team of your choosing? Me doing your laundry personally for the rest of the year?”

That makes her laugh, and fuck, it’s a gorgeous sound. Not at all dainty, but full-throated, almost like a rumble. I like that I know this about her. She’s not fussy about taking a sip of someone else’s drink, her laugh is infectious, and she wears earrings shaped like goddamn pieces of pie.

“No,” she says, looking down at the pavement. “Although that was tempting.”

I wait for more, but she’s silent, still looking down like if she tries hard enough, she can burn a hole into the asphalt. My stomach does a flip. Something is off; the rapport I thought we were building disappears like smoke in the night.

“Bex?”

She finally looks up at me, her teeth digging into her lower lip.

“I’ll tutor you,” she says. “But only if you agree to pretend to date me.”


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