Chapter 19: Jake

“Denny! Get your goddamn chin up and keep your eye on the ball!” Coach screams from across the field. “Don’t make me tell you twice!”

Sweating like a fucking animal, I looked up briefly to wipe the sweat from my eyes, then nodded, forcing myself to try and focus better. It was proving to be a difficult task considering I couldn't stop thinking about Renee and how fucking good she felt in my arms. I’ve never felt this way before, so distracted by a woman. Renee Lyon, no less, was a woman I used to be unable to stand.

With a sigh, I put my head down and manage to make it through the rest of practice with only one more fumble, but by the time I walk to the locker room to clean up, Coach is on top of me, bitching and moaning about the same shit he usually does.

“What’s distracting you out there, son?” he asked. He was trying not to appear too demanding, but he was terrible about it because his entire face was pinched in distaste as he glared at me. I imagined he’s that grandpa that all the grandkids are intimidated by when he comes for the holidays. A lot of yes sirs and no sirs in his household.

“I’m sorry, Coach,” I told him, removing my helmet. “It was just an off day, I guess.”

“Is it your classes?” demands Coach. “Are you overwhelmed? Do I need to write a note to one of your professors?”

“No, classes are fine.”

“Is it the parties?” Before I could answer, his voice dropped low, and he glanced over his shoulder for a split second to ensure no one was eavesdropping on this ridiculous conversation. “Is it drugs?”

Despite myself, I laughed. “Nah, Coach, it’s not drugs.”

Coach straightens up, hands on his hips. The beer belly that has been growing steadily over the last few semesters hangs over his belt, but even with his graying hair and wrinkled face, he’s still an intimidating guy.

“Is it a girl?” he asked. I must hesitate for a split second too long because he clicks his tongue in disappointment and shakes his head. “Damn women,” he muttered. “Life would be better off without them.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Coach.” I pat his shoulder and wink. “After all, someone had to give birth to your best team in years, right?”

Coach mumbled something that sounded like profanities, then crossed his arms over his flabby chest. “Keep your head in the game, Jake. Your scholarship won’t hold up if you can’t perform.”

Then thank God it’s my last year here because the only performances I’ll be doing soon involve Renee Lyon.

He clapped me on the shoulder and then waddled away, stiff from age, anger, and high school memories.

Back in the locker room, I jump into the shower to wash away the grime and sweat, wishing I didn’t already have a hard-on thinking of Renee. Since our hook-up the night at her house, I hadn’t been able to think of anything but her, and it was becoming a severe problem.

Not enough of a problem that I would stop pursuing her, of course, but enough of one.

After dressing for class, I gather my bookbag from my locker and start across the field towards the lecture hall. As I swing open the door to step inside, I almost step smack-dab into Jami, Renee’s roommate, on her way out of the building.

“Oh, God, sorry,” she gasps as her pack falls to the ground, scattering papers. I kneel down to help her pick them up, shaking my head.

“It was my fault. No worries.”

She looked up at me then, and a flicker of recognition flashed across her features. “Jake,” she said. “Hi. Sorry. It was me, I swear. Not looking where I was going.”

“No harm, no foul.” I straighten her stack of papers and hand them over to her with a grin, and Jami shoves them back into her bag, eyes still firmly on me. Jami is cute, it was evidently clear, and if I didn’t have such a hard-on for Renee, I’d consider getting to know Jami better. Everyone in this school assumed I was some asshole, shallow womanizer, but it was basically bullshit.

I like all girls.

“So, um, how is your friend doing?” I asked and then wanted to kick myself for acting so uncool.

“What friend?” Jami asked innocently, but I knew she was calling me on my shit.

“How is Renee?”

“She was fine, I guess.” Jami shrugged a bit, and I could tell she was ready to leave, and I didn’t want to draw this out longer than necessary.

“Oh, uh … she didn’t tell you about the other night?” I hesitated because I had no idea what Renee had disclosed to her friend and what she hadn’t, and I didn’t want to start running my big mouth.

“She kind of told me …” Jami said, trailing off. The redness in her cheeks grew until it was nearly consuming her face, and I didn’t have to push her to figure out if she knew about the hookup or not. It was pretty clear. “Sorry,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes to the ground. “I better go.” As she turned to hurry away, I reached out to stop her.

“Wait, Jami?”

“Yeah?” She looked hesitant to talk to me, like she was afraid she’d say something she was not supposed to.

“Look,” I squared up to her, one hand resting gently on her upper arm. “I really like Renee, okay? Like, a lot. More than I ever thought possible. I just want her to know that.”

“Oh, I think you’ve made that abundantly clear,” Jami giggled. “All of you have, though, haven’t you?”

“All of us?”

“You, Matt, and Aaron.”

“Oh, right.” I frown, and Jami must see the hurt in my face because her voice becomes gentler.

“She’s allowed to date who she wants to, you know,” she tells me. “Renee isn’t required to choose one man to be with if she doesn’t want to.”

“So, what, she thinks she was free to date all three of us at once?”

Jami shrugs, probably for a quick escape. “This is something you need to be talking to her about,” she tells me. “It’s not my business, honestly.” She flashed me a quick smile and turned to leave but then stopped and looked back at me again. “And for God’s sake, break it off with Carly. I know you’re not a bad guy, so stop pretending to be.”

I was still thinking of Jami’s words through my next class, hardly able to focus on anything the professor was droning on about. Later, as I walked home after my last class, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket, alerting me of a new text message. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at it, hoping that somehow it was Renee, asking to hang out. It was not. It was my dad.

Your coach said you’re distracted in practice.

It was not a hello, or how are you, son? It was nothing. All he wanted from me was my undivided loyalty, a promise to be the best son he thought I could be. I was not a human, not to my dad. I was his star football player, fantasizing about what he wished he could always be.

Coach is full of shit, I typed back quickly. I was doing fine.

I didn’t feel like dealing with him if he tried to call, so I powered my cell phone down and shoved it into the bottom of my backpack, fuming. Count on my dad to fuck up a perfectly good day. It was his favorite pastime.

Turning the corner to walk up the stairs towards our apartment, I almost run into a second person sitting at the bottom of the outside stairwell, arms around her knees as she taps her foot, waiting for something. Or someone. This time, it is Renee.

“Oh, hi.” I stopped in front of her, completely caught off guard. I hadn’t expected to see Renee so soon, especially of her own free will. Honestly, for a few days, I wondered if she’d even ever wanted to see me again. “Is everything okay?”

Renee nodded, but she looked uncertain, nervous, even. She couldn't hold my gaze for too long, so I dropped my bag at my feet and sat next to her on the chilled cement stairs, careful not to come off as too physically overbearing. For a few moments, neither one of us speaks. I wanted to push it out of her, make her talk, but I couldn't. It was not my place. She would have to tell me what she came to say when she was ready.

“Did you have football practice today?” she asked, noticing the cleats sticking out of the top of my bag.

“Yeah.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I love football,” I said. “But I felt kind of distracted today.”

“By what?”

I hesitate, but Renee turns to look at me, those stunning green eyes of hers looking right through me. If I didn’t know any better, I could swear she was reading the book of my soul.

“By you,” I told her honestly, and Renee’s eyes dropped immediately from mine. But even then, I spot the tiny, satisfied smile that plays on her lips.

“I’m sorry I was such a distraction,” she teases, and I shrugged good-naturedly.

“I guess it was fine. If anything is going to distract me, I could only hope it was as beautiful as you.”

“Wow,” Renee said with a giggle. “You are a charmer, aren’t you?”

“That’s what they said, anyway.” I nudged her with my arm teasingly, hoping I could put her at ease. “Listen, it’s cold out here. Do you want to go inside for a coffee or something?”

Renee hesitated for a second too long before I realized her concern.

“Aaron and Matt aren’t here,” I promised her. “They have another class in about twenty minutes and rarely make it back before then.”

She nodded a hesitant okay, and I took her hand to help her to her feet, gathering her bag from the bottom of the stairs to carry it up. I unlock the apartment door and show her in, laying her purse on a hook by the entrance. Renee hesitated at the entrance as if she was listening for any sign of my roommates. Finally, when she was content there was nobody else, she slowly entered the living room and sat down on the couch, crossing her legs and arms, a protective stance if I’ve ever seen one.

“I’ll offer you water or coffee first, as a gentleman should,” I said to her from the kitchen. “But I would also offer up something strong to ease your nerves. I highly suggest the latter.”

Renee laughed at this, and my entire body reacted to the beautiful sound that escaped from between her lips. I was already getting hard for her, so I forced myself to focus on anything else but that.

“How about whiskey and coke?” I asked, and she nodded her head. I make her drink, then one for myself, and walk back into the living room to hand it to her. Renee took it with a smile, her eyes scanning the living room. I was suddenly hyper-aware of what a damn mess it was in here; a proper bachelor pad. Dirty socks are strewn around the carpeted floor, and a used towel is draped over the recliner in the corner. An empty glass of vodka sits on the windowsill, and some of Aaron’s vape parts lie on the coffee table. I rolled my eyes and sat down next to Renee.

“You seem tense,” I told her, taking a drink of my own whiskey. Renee shrugged and took a sip, her eyes on everything but me.

“I felt like I needed to see you,” she said. “See you and also maybe talk about something.”

A tightness in my gut is suddenly painful as wariness grips me.

“Is it bad?” I asked, and when Renee hesitated, I felt sick. She sets her drink down on the coffee table, then turns her body in my direction.

“The other day, after I slept with you, I went on a date and—” She was cut off as the front door opened abruptly and Matt came in, music blaring from his headphones. He’s got an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, and as he turns around to shrug his jacket off, he spots Renee and me sitting together on the couch and freezes.

“Shit,” I muttered, glancing at Renee, whose mouth closed with a sharp snap. Matt stares at the front door for too long, his gaze flickering between Renee and me. I couldn't read his expression and was not sure I cared to.

“I should go,” Renee said, getting to her feet. I follow suit, wanting to reach out and stop her, but I know she might fight me if I did.

“Well, well, well,” Matt said softly, removing his headphones and tossing them onto his bag on the floor. “What do we have here?”

“I was just leaving,” Renee said, heading straight for the door. But Matt was in her way, blocking the exit, and she was forced to stop a few feet from her escape.

“I thought you had class,” I said, glaring at Matt. He shrugged at me but still looked at Renee with an expression I didn’t like—not even a little bit.

“Got released early,” he said. I hardly believe this, but it was useless to push it.

“Renee, you don’t have to leave,” I told her, hoping it was not too late to settle her down. “We could talk in my room.”

“No, it’s fine, really. I have homework and stuff to do anyway.”

Matt stays where he is, blocking the door, but before I could rip him a new one, Renee raises one hand, pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and crumples it in her hand.

“This makes no damn sense,” she snaps. “Either light the damn thing or stop carrying them around.”

“It was a metaphor,” Matt said, and for the first time in a long time, he looked halfway offended.

“A metaphor for what?” Renee snarls.

“For his mom,” I said before Matt could answer. He didn’t explain further, though, and Renee shakes her head in disgust and barrels past him, fury flashing on her face. I was impressed. She had a bigger pair of balls than Aaron.

Matt’s eyes follow Renee’s ass on the way out the door, and I fucking hate the look on his face. He’s hungry for her, like an animal, and it took every ounce of self-control I have not to knock him cold on the spot.

“What was that all about?” I asked as the door closed behind Renee. Matt is smirking, his favorite pastime, and my fists clench. I wanted to punch that smirk off his cocky face.

“What do you mean?” he asked innocently, stepping around me. “I didn’t tell her to leave.”

“She was trying to tell me something,” I grumble, following Matt into the kitchen. “And you were supposed to be in class.”

“I skipped,” Matt said with a shrug. “You should try it sometime. It was a lot of fun.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Why was she here anyway?” asked Matt, and his tone was more than just curious. It was a bit jealous … possessive.

“I don’t know. That’s the point,” I snarled, and Matt smiled again. Damn, he’s cocky. Half the guys on my football team aren’t as cocky as my best friend, Matthew Nelson, thinks he needs to be.

“Did you guys have a nice fuck?” Matt didn’t look at me when he asked this. Instead, his head is buried in the fridge, looking for his pack of beer. For a split second, I think he knows somehow about Renee and me. Did she tell him? Or Jami? Did someone tell him and Aaron, too?

“No,” I said steadily. “We didn’t have sex.”

Not today, anyway.

“Well, she was here for a reason.”

“Fuck off, man.” I shoulder past Matt and back into the living room where Renee’s glass is still sitting, practically untouched. Annoyed by the circumstances, I swallow it down, relishing the burning sting of whiskey on my throat. Then I grabbed my own drink and shot that back, too.

If anything had really worked out tonight, it was that my fucking hard-on for Renee had been smashed.

For now, anyway. I couldn't even think about her anymore without wanting to rip her clothes off and fuck her silly.