CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Caleb.

I startle awake. The sun warms my back while descending into the sea. Faith sits next to me, staring at the ocean. She turns. “Slave labor still counts even though you fell asleep.”

I’m about to roll to my side and stop once I realize I’m hard as a rock. The dream of Faith naked and wanting me put me in this condition. I’ve got to lose the image or my dick won’t cooperate and realize it was a false alarm.

“I’m sorry, I can’t believe I did that. How long was I asleep?” I ask.

“Not long, maybe forty minutes. And, it’s the ultimate compliment that you relaxed to the point of near coma.” She brushes the hair from my eyes. “Sinjin, you were out.”

I grab her wrist, place a kiss at her pulse, and release her hand. I bunch my shirt in my lap as I sit up and scrub my face to help clear the erotic fantasy from my brain. “I’ll make sure you’re my personal servant more often. The massage put me under your spell.”

“We should check the parking meter before you get a ticket. I’d like to see the town, too.”

“Give me a second to wake up.”

“I’m jealous you’re able to fall asleep on the beach. No way I’d fall asleep in a place that’s not a bed.”

“I’ll make sure you drive whenever I get tired.”

When it’s more or less safe to pull my shirt on, we pack up and return to the car. Faith feeds quarters to the meter, while I grab my sweatshirt. I take her to Caffeine Zone, and we drink lattes on the second-floor deck, sharing one of the best views of the beach, while the sun sinks into the ocean.

We walk downstairs and into the early twilight. I grab her hand as we meander up the hill and explore the town while darkness falls. Most shops are closed at this time, but we stop to look at art framed in gallery windows.

I’m interested in her life before college. I ask her about her best friend back home, and she tells me how they met the summer before fourth grade. Her face lights up when she talks about her.

Faith says, “Tell me about your roommate.”

I talk about Ty, how he had to turn down the opportunity to play at Willamette. How he’s trying to get financial aid for next year. An abridged history.

She turns to me. “I’m sorry his parents are homophobic. Rough on Ty.”

I nod. “Don’t get me started. They think it’s a choice and his soul is damned.”

“Disturbingly hurtful and closed-minded. I have experience with being ostracized for who I am.”

She shrugs, but there’s so much tension in her body language. I pay attention to what she left unsaid.

“What happened?” I ask, before I think it through.

She stops. So do I, but I take her hand in mine. And she lets me.

“People like to have someone they can point to and say crappy things about. It becomes habit—fashionable even. They want to shove you in a box and throw a label on it. Tape it shut.”

Her voice remains even. Detached. If you only look on the surface. I raise her chin because I want to make eye contact. This conversation might be the most important one we’ve ever had with each other.

I choose my words with care. “Maybe they lose meaning for the person who uses them? But not for the person who hears them. Whatever was said to you—they’re wrong.”

She glances at the ground. Her throat moves as she swallows. Her eyes shine, but a reluctant smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“Thanks, Sinjin. If we played two truths and a lie today, I would have picked Eagle Scout instead of math genius.”

Her words move me, a quick little riff in the vicinity of my heart. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. I rest my chin on her head and hug her back.

“Will you kiss me?” she asks.

I force my body not to respond to the movement of her lips against my pecs. I step back to lean down and reach her mouth. Our lips touch. My blood ignites like a match dragged against a striking surface. Spark first, then a blaze when our tongues touch. Need crawls through my belly as our kiss deepens. Faith moans. And I almost lose my mind.

We break apart.

Faith licks her lower lip. We both breathe hard.

She presses her hand against her stomach. “Wow. So that happened.”

I have to divert her attention away from my hard-on. “Of course, it did. You can thank me now.”

She laughs. “Shut up, Prince Charming.”

An empty shopfront behind us catches her attention. She steps to the window filled with posters of past Begonia Festivals. While her back is turned away from me I quickly adjust myself to make room in my damn pants.

“These posters are cool.”

“Yeah, I’m bummed this tradition died. The company who used to donate the begonias closed up shop. The last festival happened in 2017.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. Come on, Lacerna. Let’s get back to the car.”

I play music on the drive home. We both have a lot to think about. Faith held her breath to get rid of the hiccups most of the way. Conversation would have been challenging anyway. Before I know it, we’re back over the hill and pulling into the student parking lot. We stop before the entrance to her dorm. I lean down and cradle her face in my hands. “Today lit up the scoreboard, Ms. Lacerna.”

She winds her arms around my waist, meets my gaze. “It did indeed, Sinjin. Hall-of-Fame worthy.” She rests her head against my chest.

I lean back to kiss her good night. I was planning to rub my lips against hers, but her lips part and our tongues touch. My pulse spurs as our kiss deepens. Again. This girl is something else, and I hate the fact that I have to leave, but I pull away.

Her gaze meets mine; her eyes look slightly unfocused. “You really are Prince Charming.”

“Okay.” I snicker. “That’s a good thing, right?”

She stumbles into the lobby like a drunk but calls out over her shoulder, “Good night, Sinjin.”

I’m left wondering what Prince Charming means to her. Good, or someone to avoid?

I’m staked out at the bench outside of the math building. It’s Wednesday, which means Faith and I have class together. I haven’t seen her since our beach date, but I sent her a text with the jack-o’-lantern emoji and a question mark the next day. She replied an hour later with the ghost emoji. Not sure what that means, but I’ll find out soon.

When she turns the corner, she’s with Beau. They reach me, and I stand. Beau nods at me. “Caleb.”

“Beau.” Undercurrents swirl between us.

Faith shakes her head. “Is this some weird ritual that requires Y chromosomes to understand?”

We turn to her, nod in unison. She gestures with her hands like she’s had enough, and walks toward our class, but calls over her shoulder, “Guys are weird. Bye, gentlemen.”

Beau smiles at her retreating back. “She asked me for help with your costumes.”

Ghost emoji means yes. “Of course.”

He nods. “She suggested tooth fairy and tooth costumes. She wanted to wear the tooth. I steered her clear of that idea.”

I hope he’s joking. But I really don’t care what she chooses for us to wear. One costume is as good as any since Leia and Han remain off the table. “What’s your pick?”

“Shrek and Donkey. Green will complement Faith.”

It would serve me right to go to Everest’s party dressed as a jackass. “Later, Beast.”

That got his attention. “You know?”

“The entire fucked-up mess. I’m sorry about your parents. I can’t imagine it. It’s a damn shame all around. You were one of the most talented QBs I’ve ever seen at our level.”

“Yes, well. Life doesn’t follow a rule book.” He clenches his jaw, makes eye contact. “Look. I haven’t told Faith the whole story. It’s not something I talk about easily. But I’d appreciate your silence until I do.”

“Not my story to tell.” I turn to head into class. Once inside, I drop down next to Faith in the back row.

Gabe shoots me a dirty look from the middle of the class, gathers his things, and stomps up the aisle to join us. Faith smiles when Gabe takes the seat next to mine. “Are you two a packaged deal—like fungus on an athlete’s foot?”

“Please tell me I’m the athlete and he’s the fungus.”

Her smile spreads across her face and grips my gut. I want to pull her onto my lap and kiss her senseless, then unwrap her like a piece of candy.

Faith’s on my right, Gabe sits to my left. He launches into his game day recap from our last game. I’m not paying attention to his monologue. I’m still indulging my waking fantasy about Faith.

She leans forward and says in a low, menacing voice, “Don’t even start. Number eighty is a hack compared to Caleb, and you know it. Caleb runs patterns around and through him. Eighty gets more play time because he’s an upperclassman not because of his superior skill.”

Gabe adopts a prissy tone. “Need I remind you that two weeks ago Caleb fumbled the ball, which allowed UNLV to get within field-goal range? Dumb luck they didn’t add any points to the scoreboard.”

Game rehash about the forced turnover pisses me off, and my pulse scrambles. I don’t need it rubbed in my damn face.

Faith hisses, “Listen, fanboy. Eighty dropped the ball at least twice this season. Caleb fumbled on a stripped ball.”

“Hey. Let us be civil, people. No need to use the f-word.” Then I tell Gabe, “Behave, or I’ll tell Everest what you said about him last week.”

Gabe’s face pales. “You wouldn’t.”

Faith nudges me with her elbow. “What did he say?” Interest lights her expression.

“He asked why Everest left the game with three minutes left on the clock before the end of the third quarter.”

Gabe squirms in his seat, and I shoot him a wink. I lean closer to Faith to tell her the next bit. “When I explained he rolled his ankle and needed it taped, Gabe inquired whether Everest needed his mama to kiss his boo-boo before heading back in.”

Faith whispers to Gabe across me, “Dead man walking. Not to mention the cliché about boys needing their mamas. Pain is pain, dude.”

I smile at her. “True.”

Gabe uses the rest of the time in class to justify his stance on what makes number eighty a better tight end. Furious whispers exchange between them. I actually agree with some of his points, but for the most part I relish Faith’s defense of my talent. Her analysis is on point, and I enjoy the biting comments she aims at him.

She tsks. “Caleb embodies the perfect tight end.”

I turn to her. “Girl, this conversation just got interesting.”

It takes her a beat to review what she just said, and she blushes. She pokes me in the belly with her finger. “You know what I mean, and so does he.”

She gestures toward Gabe. “That position calls for power, no doubt, but Caleb brings speed and agility to the field as well. And he’s got great hands.” She dusts hers. “Enough said.”

I lean in to whisper, “If you think I have great hands on the field, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

She snorts. “Hush.”

The professor stops writing the latest problem on the board and turns to the classroom. “While your argument is riveting Ms. Lacerna, I do hope this is the last we’ll hear of it. Some people are here to learn about math.”

An hour later, the three of us walk out of class together. Faith smacks Gabe on the shoulder. “Thanks for getting me in trouble.”

He stumbles, rubs the area she smacked. “Ow. Why did you do that?”

“I’m Italian. I talk with my hands,” she says to his retreating back as he leaves us and walks toward The Canteen.

Faith asks, “How does he manage to escape attention? Every week the same thing, full recap, and he never gets called out for it.”

“Because I don’t argue with him or interrupt his monologues?”

“Well, someone needs to call him on his shit.”

I bring her close and press my lips against hers. She drives me crazy with need, and I want to gauge her reaction. “You’re quite fierce, Faith.”

“Mmhmm.” She murmurs against my lips, pulls back, and surveys the area around us. “Are you off to lift weights and get sweaty, Sinjin?”

“I am, Ms. Lacerna.” She smiles when I emphasize the z sound, put a little drawl into the title.

She touches my hand. “I’ll let you know where we’ll meet for the party.”

I thought for sure she’d want me to pick her up from her place at The Row. Looks like more of the same, but I’m going to check to be certain. “Sure, but you’ll be at your dad’s, right? I can meet you at your door.”

“Dude. Trust me. You don’t want to meet my dad.”

Not this crap again. “Is there a reason why?”

She stares at a point over my shoulder. “Yes.”

“Care to share?” I realize I’m grinding my teeth and relax my jaw.

“He’s overly protective of me. But I’ll need to get you the costume at any rate.”

This is bullshit. “You introduced Beau.” I point out the obvious.

She makes eye contact. “Yes. But that’s different—we don’t kiss. Problem?”

Tension bands across my shoulders. “Is there some reason why you think I shouldn’t meet your dad?”

She takes a deep breath, releases it. “Look, I’ve never brought a date to meet him. You’re only the second guy I’ve dated.” She motions with her hand between us. “Dad’s Italian. We don’t do casual introductions. Unless you’re ready to propose. Is this really an issue for you?”

Propose? She’s got to be bluffing. I have two choices. Give up—walk away from this girl or get into position, place my hands on the line of scrimmage, and work for what I want. “Not today.”

I’m not ready to make her dad the proverbial sword I fall on. I gently tug her ponytail. “What are we going to be?”

Her lips quirk. “It’s a secret. No unveiling before the party. I’ll be in the stands cheering the Gladiators on Saturday. Be safe, Sinjin.”

She turns and walks away from me. What will I have to do to earn her trust?