First Down: A Fake Dating College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play)
First Down: Chapter 5

I CAN’T BELIEVE that out of every person I could have kissed, I chose McKee’s new quarterback.

The so-called savior of our football program.

Darryl’s teammate.

Shit.

Even though I need to get up and make myself presentable for class, I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. Not the ugly expression on Darryl’s face or the way half the party was staring as I fled, but the way the kiss felt. I’ve always been self-conscious when it comes to kissing, especially in front of others. But this guy… he made everyone and everything else disappear. The way he put his hands on me to pull me closer, the slight roughness of his lips, the reluctant way he broke it off… it was a kiss worth fantasizing over. I inch my hand under the waistband of my sleep shorts, just skimming the top of my sex. Maybe I can go fast and—

No.

I can’t. Even if I can’t stop imagining his lips right between my legs.

I glance at my phone. I have time.

I bite my lip, torn, and then slide my fingers downward. My fingers part my folds, and I bite back a gasp when I nudge my clit. I circle it with the tip of my finger. James had just a bit of stubble; if he put his mouth where my fingers are, it would scratch against my skin deliciously. Would he be gentle? Rough? I may have started the kiss, but he took it over with ease. Quarterbacks are in command of the whole show on the field, right? So, in bed…

“Bex!” Laura says, banging on my door.

My hand flies out of my shorts. I can’t even be mad at her because it’s for the best. No good would come from fantasizing about a guy I kissed out of panic, in front of my ex.

My face burns suddenly. He might’ve kissed me back, but with a couple days’ distance, I’m sure he realizes I’m a freak. I can only hope I don’t accidentally run into him on campus. It’s a good thing we go to a big university. Maybe he’s not much of a coffee drinker and he won’t even stop by The Purple Kettle.

“Bex,” Laura calls. “We have to go soon if we’re going to grab breakfast before class.”

“I’ll be right there!” I roll out of bed and yank open the closet door. Throw on a pair of jean shorts and a faded Abby’s Place t-shirt—when it comes to the diner, that’s the one thing that’s always in supply. I yank a comb through my hair and find my sandals. I guess I’m just going to have to forego makeup today.

After brushing my teeth and throwing my stuff into my backpack, Laura and I head out. Our dorm has a dining hall attached to it, so it’s blessedly easy to get that first cup of coffee and some toast without making it ourselves every time. That’s the best part about college and one of the things I’ll miss the most: food on demand. My hashbrowns are way better, though.

When we both have a plate, we find a booth in the back. Laura looks a lot more put together than me—full face of makeup, matching jewelry. I’ll bet she got up to work out and everything. And what was I doing? Getting off to the thought of some dude’s stubble?

Ugh. I just worked my way out of an all-consuming, soul-sucking relationship. I can’t give myself any unnecessary distractions this semester, not with Mom and the diner and everything else I have going on.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she says finally.

I raise an eyebrow as I take a sip of coffee. “You know already.”

“I know because Mackenzie told me, but that’s not the same thing as you telling me.”

“You did tell me to get with someone else.”

“Not him!”

I scrub a hand over my face. “I know it was monumentally stupid. I hope Darryl hasn’t been annoying about it to him.”

It would be just like him to try and fight the guy, even though I kissed him and it’s not his business anyway. That’s another reason why I hope we never have to interact again. I would spontaneously combust if my body betrayed me in front of him, plus he might’ve had to fend off a pissed-off Darryl, which means he wouldn’t be too pleased with me.

“You’re blushing.” Laura leans in, delight on her face. “Does that mean he’s a good kisser? He looks like he kisses as a preview to what he’s like during the deed.”

“Laura!” I screech. I look around, but fortunately we’re out of earshot of anyone else.

She just waves her piece of toast around. “What? He’s hot as fuck.”

I take a bite of my bagel. “It was good.”

“Just good?”

“Really good,” I admit.

She sighs. “It’s too bad he’s Darryl’s teammate. Boys tend to have codes about that shit.”

“I don’t want him anyway,” I say. My traitorous stomach flops as I think about the kiss again. “I’m not getting involved with anyone right now.”

“So, if he came up to you and asked you on a date, you’d say no?”

“Like he would.”

“You kissed him and ditched him. Guys like the chase.”

“Well, I hope he doesn’t waste his time.” I check my phone. I’m going to have to hustle if I want to get to class on time, since the building is across campus, so I stand, grabbing a napkin for the rest of my bagel. “I’ll see you later.”

“Are you going to that writing class?”

I roll my eyes. “Unfortunately.”

When I transferred to McKee, some of my credits didn’t transfer over with me, so I’ve been working double-time to finish every requirement and graduate on time. This writing class—an introduction to college writing—is the most annoying of all of them. Insulting, too—I’m a business major, I’ve written plenty of papers over the course of my college career. I’d have preferred to be working on my photography this whole time, but that’s life.

“You’ll get through it. Text me what you want to do for dinner later,” she says.

I wave goodbye and head out into the morning. It’s still way more summer than fall in terms of the weather, so after a few minutes of fast walking, sweat starts to gather on my forehead and under my arms. I hitch my backpack further onto my shoulder, lengthening my stride as I hit one of the many hills on campus. We’re only about an hour outside of New York City, so not in the mountains, but I swear it’s like McKee terraformed the place to be extra hilly. I didn’t need to bring my camera with me, but I like carrying it just in case I get inspired, and now I’m regretting it, because it keeps slapping against my hip.

I make it with a minute to spare, find a seat in the back, and take out my notebook, along with a gel pen. They’re my one school-related luxury. Something about writing notes in sparkly purple instead of plain black makes studying business when I’d rather have been a visual arts major just a tiny bit more bearable.

The professor, who, no surprise, is an old white dude, starts to talk about the importance of taking this class seriously because it sets up everything you do in college. It’s not bad advice, but definitely meant for the baby-faced seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds around me. Essay structure? Check. The importance of outlining your work? Double check. Peer feedback? Got it. The one thing I can say about this class is that it will be an easy A, and considering the five other classes I’m taking to stay on track with wrapping up my major requirements, I can’t complain.

“Let’s take a closer look at the syllabus,” the professor says. “Make sure you get a copy.”

Someone drops into the seat next to mine. I suppress a snort. Poor baby freshman. I’d bet five bucks it was an alarm malfunction.

Whoever it is, they smell really good. A bit like pine.

I look up, and my heart does a little surprised flop in my chest.

“Hey,” says James freakin’ Callahan. “Got an extra copy of that?”

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