First Meet Foul: A sunshine/grump, enemies to lovers sports romance (Central State Football Book 1)

Why the fuck had I gotten a haircut and shave for this? It wasn’t a date. It was a few hours in a car with Lorelei Romano to visit my grandma. That was it. Nothing more. Yet, I felt like I had to clean up. Look nice. I found my newest jeans and showered. No big deal.

“Ready?” Lorelei knocked on my doorframe as I put on a football hoodie. That felt more casual, like friends hanging out. Because that was what we were.

“Almost.” I chewed the inside of my cheek as I grabbed my wallet, keys, and froze. Had I put on deodorant? I couldn’t remember, but I didn’t want to smell. “I need thirty seconds. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Sounds good! Don’t worry, I made car snacks.” She laughed and left my room, thankfully.

I quickly applied deodorant and sighed. This wasn’t anything, and I had no reason to be nervous. Like, what the fuck? I’d stared down some of the biggest fucking dudes against a Michigan team last night and yet a car ride with her had me sweating. Maybe the sweatshirt was too much. I took it off and would just toss it in the back of the truck. Why did I have to confess my attraction to her in such an obnoxious way the other night? Like, she didn’t just know I thought she was hot. I told her she was a goddess, like I was a total idiot.

My usual Saturday night involved homework to keep my grades up and watching more film of the game and finding areas of weakness. Then I’d create my own workout plan for the next week. Instead, I’d be in the car with Lorelei and visiting my grandma. I could handle it.

Liar.

I met Lorelei downstairs, and while she chatted with Dean about the project, I admired her from afar. She dressed in workout pants and black running shoes and a long extra-large football sweatshirt. She wore her hair down and wore an orange headband thing, and she defined perfection. If someone asked me to draw the perfect woman for me, down to the outfit, it was this right here. Her.

My throat tightened, and I fisted my hand. She was Dean’s sister. My quarterback. My brother. I felt his gaze on me, and I quickly averted my attention from his sister to the ceiling. Running my hand over my jaw, I mumbled, “There’s a crack up there.”

“What are you saying?” Lorelei asked.

“What? Nothing.” Fuck. My face burned.

Dean stared as his phone, not me, thankfully.

There was a reason I‘d stayed away from her all week and yet, here I was, making more time for us to be together. It was torture, and she glanced up and smiled at me. “I made puppy chow!”

“Leave half of it with me since I let you live here.” Dean grabbed a handful, but she smacked his hand. “Come on, Lo. This is crack.”

“You can have whatever Luca doesn’t eat. He’s doing me a huge favor.” She snatched the bag from her brother and grinned at me. “It’s a rule in our house. Car rides longer than thirty minutes require snacks. It’s like one of our family’s guiding principles.”

“One time, we drove to Florida and went through how many bags of chips?” Dean said.

“Disgusting. You were an animal then.”

“Okay, princess, you weren’t?”

“Not as bad as you!”

“I was a growing teenage boy. I drank a gallon of milk a day. Clearly, the calories didn’t stay.” He admired his arms, and Lorelei rolled her eyes.

“You disgust me.”

“How’s finding another place to live going?”

“How’s being the uglier twin going?” she fired back.

I was utterly charmed. I loved how she gave her brother shit and never backed down. The image of her worry at being around her ex returned, and I hoped to never see that expression on her face. I liked her like this: loud and tough and witty.

Dean cackled and took a handful of the dessert and left to the living room. He hit my shoulder. “Can’t imagine a better person to keep her safe.”

“Right.” I nodded at him. The dude had no idea what was going on in my head or he wouldn’t allow this. He’d punch me in the face or make me move out. The thoughts I had about his sister were not healthy, that was for sure.

“Okay so are you a playlist kinda guy or a podcast guy? Wait, you’re a silence type, aren’t you? That’s a little serial killer for me, but it’ll be fine.” She clutched her laptop and water bottle, the bag of snacks hanging from her shoulder. I held out my hand.

“I’ll carry that.”

“You just want some. I knew it. Luca Monroe has a weakness for sweet things.”

“You have no idea,” I mumbled.

She laughed, but clearly, she didn’t get the meaning.

We loaded her stuff into my truck and headed onto the interstate toward the facility three hours away. We’d get there by four, and she had an hour or so of interviews set up before we’d have dinner with my grandma. No girl had ever met my grandma before. Not even when I dated someone for a year in high school. Lorelei would be the first.

“I teased you, but you didn’t answer. Are you a music guy or a podcast guy?”

“I’m pretty sure you said silence as an option too,” I teased and snuck a glance at her.

She scrunched her nose and shrugged, not looking the least bit ashamed. “Sure did. Who else drives three hours in silence?”

“I like true crime podcasts, actually.”

“Interesting turn of events.” She gaped. “Not… Sports Facts 101 or Football for the Ages?”

“Both of those sounds terrible.” I set the cruise control, and my lips twitched. “Sports Facts 101? What would that even mean?”

“I don’t know. Like, who invented football? Why was the ball brown? Why is there only like ten minutes of action the entire game yet fans go wild for it?”

“I’m sensing some attitude around football over there.”

“You’re so bright,” she deadpanned.

I laughed. God, she was amusing. “You think soccer is more fun?”

“Oodles more fun. I say that without an ounce of bias.”

I snorted and let myself study her for a second. She had a small smile, her eyes twinkling with joy, and my chest tightened. The sun hit her hair and lit up her face, and damn, she was pretty. “I’ve never been to a game before.”

“What.” She glared at me. “That is unacceptable.”

“I know. I’ve never deviated from my plans, and Sundays are for—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, some routine you have. I understand you, but dude, you can’t talk shit about something you’ve never seen! Soccer players are so much fun and aggressive. Like, people assume football is rough, which yes, with the concussions and injuries it is, but girls’ soccer? It is a different kind of vicious. No pads, no helmets, just the drive and grit to win at all costs.”

“Yeah, I saw a bit of this when we tied at our shoot-out.”

“Hey, I would’ve won if we kept going!”

“You’re fun to play cards with, I bet,” I teased.

She growled, and I smiled again. With her, smiles came easier and easier. I wasn’t thinking about the ways I could fail and let my grandma down. Instead, I was playing calendar Tetris on how I could attend one of her games. Dean went to every other game or so, and it’d be easy to tag along with him. He always invited us, and Callum went from time to time.

Just thinking about Callum made me roll my eyes. He’d flirt with her, probably.

“No need to roll your eyes at me. I understand I’m a lot to deal with.”

“What? No. I was thinking about something else.” I frowned at her. “You’re not a lot…to deal with.”

“Thanks, I am, but it’s okay.” Her voice lost a little zest, and that wouldn’t do.

“No, you’re not. You’re you, and that’s…I like how competitive you are.”

“Well, thank you, Monroe.” She hummed. “Now tell me your favorite memory of your grandma. I want to get a backstory on this incredible woman I’m about to meet.”

“Ah well.” I cleared my throat. I wanted to spend more time on telling her she was perfect, but that probably crossed the friends-only line I kept drawing in permanent marker. “She loves pranks to the point it’s maddening. Most of them are terrible, but every once in a while, she gets you really good.”

“Okay, I love her. I adore this woman. What type of pranks?”

“Cans with stuff popping out, hiding balloons in closet, switching up furniture in the room when you leave. My favorite memory though was when I was eight and really sad because it was my birthday. Being the kid without a mom and dad was hard, so she wanted me to be surprised. She invited my entire elementary school class to a park that night and filled water balloons. She declared war on the kids, and we just went bananas. She’d saved up for weeks and called off a shift at the restaurant to fill up those balloons. It was just the biggest gesture ever. So, when we were done, she told me she couldn’t afford any presents, and I didn’t care. The balloons were enough, but when we got back to our apartment, she’d bought me football posters of my favorite players. It was…” I trailed off, the story reminding me why I fought so hard for a future. “Amazing.”

Lorelei sniffed, and my gut tightened.

“Are you crying?”

“Yes.” She laughed and sniffed again. “That is quite a story, my goodness. What an icon of a woman.”

“She is. That’s why I focus so much. There is no margin for error.”

“I get it.” She whimpered.

I slid her a look.

“I am a crier. I show emotions for everything. Good, bad, great. Like, I cry when I’m angry and happy and sad. It’s annoying. And, when I win or lose, tears come too. It’s just a part of my personality at this point.”

She sounded defensive, but I didn’t see the issue. “Okay then.”

“I always say I got all the emotions, and Dean didn’t get any. Something weird went on in the womb or something because the imbalance is not fair.” She used the end of her sweatshirt to wipe under her eyes. “Ah man, my mascara! I can’t be a raccoon when I meet her.”

“Oh, she won’t care.”

“I care, Monroe. I have to seem put together.”

“You look beautiful,” I said, my face immediately warming up. “For this. Fine. I mean, you look fine.”

“Settle down over there. You already told me I’m a goddess, so there’s no going back.”

“I do regret that,” I grumbled.

“I know.” She giggled and pulled down the mirror. Wiping her eyes, she let out something between a sigh and a snort. “Don’t worry. I won’t let it go to my head.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “So, what’s on your agenda?”

“Ah! Well, so glad you asked.” She crossed one leg over the over, her bare ankle on display.

It was just an inch or two between the end of her tight pants and her socks, but the tanned skin there seemed smooth. I wanted to drag my fingers over it, see if she liked being touched there. Focus on the road.

Fuck. Not hooking up with anyone the last two Fridays was getting to me. I was worked up. Really tense and it wasn’t her fault I was so damn drawn to her. It put me in a miserable situation because did I want her? God, yes. But could I do that? No. Never.

“I have a meeting set up with the owner, Patrick. He’ll provide an overview of their marketing efforts, but when they had to fire people, the marketing specialist was the first to go five years ago. They are quite behind in terms of presence and seem really excited about this idea. Depending on how that goes, I’ll talk to their outreach director. Then, I’m chowing down with you and your grandma, and I’ll ask all sorts of embarrassing questions about you. I’m very persuasive and usually get my way when I want something.”

“No, my grandma won’t spill anything. She’s a vault. She wouldn’t do that to me.

“Mm, we’ll see. Remember, I’m competitive at everything.”

I arched a brow and got her to smile at me again. I loved seeing her grin. It made me feel normal, like I was just some guy hanging out with a girl who liked me for me and not a ticket to the NFL. I enjoyed my time with those women, for sure, but it filled a basic need and nothing more. Weird, how it had never bothered me until this second. I scratched my chest, ignoring the buildup of pressure and handed Lorelei my phone. “You can choose the episode. It’s called Lost Killers.”

“How nice of you, allowing me to pick. And trusting me with your phone! An honor. The things I could do right now.”

I sighed, mentally going through anything embarrassing on the device. Nothing came to mind. “You’re a handful, Lorelei.”

“I’m aware.” She crossed the other leg now, hiding her ankle to my disappointment. “Ah, the lost sister? This seems dark.”

“It is.”

“Wait, you’ve already heard this one? Let’s do another. What about… the neighbor?”

“What’s the summary?”

“A man leaves his house one day and never comes home, leaving a wife and a child alone. Four years go by, and they declare him dead but then one day he shows up like nothing happened without any memory.”

“Shit.” My eyes widened. “Sick.”

“Look, I love Halloween. It’s my favorite holiday, and I even love horror films. But those are fiction. Not. Real. This stuff freaks me out.”

“Oh, we don’t have to—I’m sorry. Here, put something else on.” I reached for the phone, but she slapped my hand. “What?”

“You’re driving, but no, now I have to listen. Where did he go? What happened? Like, I need answers now. That’s one of my flaws. Like some people can stop reading a book at some point because they don’t like it. I can’t do that. I’m a finisher. I finish things all the way through, regardless of if it’s a good use of time. Wow,” she said, sitting back. “This explains a lot about me.”

“Nothing like true crime to have a mini-identity crisis.”

“Ha.” She snickered. “You’re more fun that I thought. I like it.”

My ears heated. “Thanks, I think?”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. But yeah, we gotta listen to it now, and I’m preparing you, it’s probably going to become my whole personality afterward.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to.” She tucked her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes. “I’m hitting play.”

“And you’re closing your eyes because….?”

“Preparing myself. Focus on the road, Monroe.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I fought a grin as the familiar narrator’s voice filled my truck and the intro keys thudded. It was a chilling effect—on purpose, I was certain—and Lorelei’s face scrunched together in a wince. “You okay?”

“Yup. Hate the music, that’s all. My pulse is pounding.”

“For real, come on, let’s stop it.”

“Luca.” She opened her eyes, her large brown ones boring into me. “I need to listen now that I read the premise. If we don’t finish on the trip, then I will at home by myself, and that would be worse.”

At one point, Lorelei gasped and stared wide-eyed out the window. Her face paled. I paused the interview with the guy himself. “Hey, you okay? Have a snack?”

“My food.” She shook her head. “I forgot I brought the snacks. Here, eat puppy chow.”

“I’m fine, but you seem pale. Are you scared?”

“What if…your grandma disappeared for years without reason? I can’t… what happened to him? It is terrifying! What! Like, my mind is spiraling right now.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m thinking time travel, right? I mean what else…“ She shivered. “What do you think? I need every thought you have.”

“Honestly? I don’t have any.” I shrugged. “Digesting it, I guess.”

“Oh my god,” she yelled. “You don’t have a million things going on in your head at all times? Like, what if the truck veered off to the right or what if I ran out of snacks or had to go to the bathroom, but there wasn’t a place to stop for miles or if a deer ran out, and we hit it or if we got a flat tire?”

I sucked in a breath. “Jesus, Lo, why are you thinking all that?”

“If I knew, I’d stop it.” She rested her head back, closing her eyes. “And throw in my suspicion about time travel.”

I snorted. “Well, if this helps, the tires were rotated this summer and are in great condition, but if we veered, it’s just open plains, so you’ll be okay. I have a spare in the back and learned how to change a flat, so no big deal. If you need to stop, there is a gas station in twenty minutes. And I try to keep an eye out for deer. My grandma hit one once, and I scared the shit out of us.”

She exhaled. “Okay, those plans sound great.”

“I’m good at reacting to plays. Way better at reacting than thinking ahead.”

“Interesting as you’re on offense.”

“I know.” I sighed. “But I stand by it. I react to the team, to Dean, to the opposition. I become what the team needs. I guess I’m that way in life too. I don’t think about what’s going to happen, I wait for the event to occur, then respond.”

“I wish I was that way, damn. I worry so much all the time before things happen, and most of the time, they never do. It’s an exhausting use of my mind.”

“You’re not—” Shit!

A fucking deer ran out in the road, and I veered right. The tires screeched, and we lurched forward. I stuck my right arm out, shoving my hand against Lorelei’s chest. Then we spun out.