First Down (Beyond the Play #1)

by Grace Reilly

I know she doesn’t want to complicate things either, and I appreciate that, because if she was even just a bit more willing, I might throw away the playbook entirely.

“It’s just weird, okay? The reminder,” she says. “Your family is famous and you’re going to be too.” “And that’s a problem?” “I’m just some random person who happens to be eating dinner with you.” “You’re not some random person.”

“But I am. I’m not really with you, and I’m not saying I should be, or that . . . I want that, but we’re just not the same kind of person.” She sets down the menu, gesturing to the restaurant. “I’m not the kind of person who goes to places like this.” “I don’t see the difference.” “Of course you don’t, you have everything.”

“And you’re going to keep having everything. I’m not saying you don’t deserve it, because you do. You’re talented at what you love. But that’s never going to be me, and I just remembered that.” She retreats, but I softly take her hand, tracing over the lines on her palm. “What do you love?” She shakes her head. “Fake boyfriends don’t get to know that.” “So there is something.” “Photography,”

“What the fuck is going on? Two seconds ago, I thought you were going to walk all the way back home.” I keep up my smile as I whisper back, “That girl over there is staring. I’m making the date believable. Play along.”

“Feel free to bring Laura or anyone else, I have plenty of tickets.” “Will your brothers be there?” “Not Cooper, unfortunately. He has a game in Vermont. But Seb will be there, and my parents.” I nearly choke on my drink. “James.” “What? You’ll like them.” He leans in a bit, dropping his voice even lower. “Even fake girlfriends can meet the folks.”

“You’re staring,” I tell him. He grins. “Sweetheart, you stared first.” Crap. That was probably true.

“Don’t try to make this any more or less than it can be,” he says. I nod. “Don’t leave me tonight, baby. Stay.” I shouldn’t say yes. I should keep the boundary between us as airtight as possible. Because this scares me. This could so easily lead to deeper feelings, and I’ll be the one looking foolish

“And just like that, you’re fun-size again.” I hit his shoulder lightly. “Rude.” “What if I told you I prefer you this way?” “Do you?”

“We can do this. We’re obviously attracted to one another.” “Once to get it out of our systems, and then we can just be friends.” He looks up at me. “Exactly.”

But that’s the kind of question that comes from a girlfriend, not a hookup. And if there’s anything I need to remember, it’s that this is not for real. This is just to scratch an itch we’re both feeling. Even if he calls me princess and makes me see stars when I come.

“I like it,” I mumble. “You’re like a sexy blanket.” He laughs against my neck. “I don’t want to squish you.” “Mm. You are pure muscle.” “Don’t you know it.”

As I drive home, only one thought echoes in my mind: I just slept with my fake boyfriend.

Bex is not just a tutor; the second she’s in my mind, I’m thinking about how fucking good it felt to finally give in to our mutual attraction.

Figured you’d need the right jersey, princess. —J Laura snatches the note from my hand as I tear into the package. “Princess? He calls you princess?” “Kind of.” “That’s so romantic.” She gasps as I unfold the jersey. It’s his, of course; the number 9 stitched on both sides and CALLAHAN across the back in block letters.

Richard greeted me politely, but the game is almost over now, and he’s been glaring at me nonstop. Maybe it’s the jersey—girlfriends wear their guys’ jerseys, everyone knows that. But honestly, why would he care if his son is dating someone? Maybe he can tell that even if I was with his son for real, we wouldn’t be a good match. The Callahans are rich and famous. I’m just a diner rat. When James ends up with someone for real, she’ll be like him and will make the perfect NFL wife.

“I love you,” he says. “And I want the best for you. And a relationship is not the best thing for you right now.” “I already said we’re not dating.” “She’s wearing your jersey, son.” “Hundreds of people in this stadium wore my jersey tonight. Maybe thousands.”

Bex is wearing my jersey because I gave it to her. I went to the bookstore on campus and picked out the one I liked best, and then I wrapped it up like a present and left it at her door. It’s the one I wanted Darryl to see her in. The one I wanted to see her in.

“As long as you don’t let yourself get caught up in her.” “I won’t. It was a one-time thing.” “Good.”

Seb gives me a look as I get out of the car, which I ignore. So what if I sound like I’m actually her boyfriend? It’s not real. I told Dad the same thing. It’s just the polite thing to do since she was my guest to the game today.

As soon as the game ended, I wanted to see her and drink in her reaction. She must have looked so pretty, her eyes lit up with excitement.

She ducks her head, blushing. “I’m sure you get that all the time.” “It means more coming from you.” “Really?” “Really. You look good in my jersey.” I brush a lock of her hair back behind her ear. “Pretty girl.” “James,” she whispers.

She’s about to take off the jersey, but I stop her. “I love seeing you in this.” She presses her face against my bare chest, kissing my tattoo. “Oh yeah?” “Sexy as hell, babe.” “You’re the sexy one. I was thinking about sucking you off the whole game.” I play with the hem of the jersey. “Seriously?” “You’re in command on the field. It’s hot, trust me.”

“I took it when you went to go call your sister.” I snort as the memory comes back to me. “She was afraid she accidentally ate a pot brownie.” “Did she?” “Honestly, I’m still not sure. Coop thinks she did.”

“You’re seriously talented.” “Do you want it?” She ducks her gaze down. “I mean, if you want it, you can have it.” “Not like this.” She looks up, hurt flashing on her face momentarily. I kiss it away quickly. “Princess, you need to sign it for me first.”

“Don’t panic,” he told me. “This doesn’t have to change anything.” “How?” I whispered. “We’re friends,” he said, stroking my tangled hair. “Friends who are attracted to each other. We can keep doing this without complicating it.” “Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” “Do you want to stop? Say you want to stop, and we will.” “Our deal?” “Not the deal. Just this.” I shook my head. In the end, I couldn’t lie. “I don’t want to stop.” “Then we won’t.”

“Exactly. I’m sure he’s got a matching shiner; we went pretty rough against the boards.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “And then you went into the penalty box for slashing.” Cooper shrugs at Sebastian’s chiding tone. “So did he.” “And it’s going to catch up with you, racking up all those penalties.” “Who are you, Dad?” “He does have a point,” James says. “You don’t want to give your agent a reason to be pissed at you.”

“Fine,” I mumble. He relaxes visibly. “Good. Get in the car, baby. Let me just grab the keys.” Cooper and Sebastian approach, Cooper holding out a set of keys. He tosses them to James, who catches them with ease. “Got them. Let’s go.”

“She needs support,” I say. “Sure,” Seb says. “But you just introduced yourself as her boyfriend.” “And you look like you’re about to commit murder for her,” says Coop. “I know she’s cool, but—” I turn on him. “Watch your mouth.” “James, come on. She’s going to think this means something.” My heart thuds. “And maybe it does. It’s not your fucking business.”

“I have to call Aunt Nicole and see if you can stay with her. And then call the insurance company and file a claim. What the hell were you thinking, falling asleep like that?” Abby has the decency to look embarrassed. “Let’s not talk about it in front of your friend, Bexy.” “Don’t Bexy me. And he’s my boyfriend, so he stays.”

“It’s just one weekend.” “Alone with him in a hotel room.” Laura frowns. “It’s not something you do when it’s casual. Or when you’re pretending.” “I don’t think we’re pretending anymore,”

“And I’m hoping to add new routines, anyway.” My heart does a somersault; I can’t help smiling. “Oh yeah?” “Waking up next to my girl can’t hurt.” My girl.

“Oh yeah? What brought you to that earth-shattering conclusion? Is it the way he’s been leading your team to wins all season? His nomination for the Heisman? How he told you off when you hurt me?” He works his jaw. “I never meant—” “Stop. Just stop.” I lower my voice since we’re in public. At least he didn’t try to get me alone. “Go back to the locker room, Darryl.”

“You’re lying.” “And when he realizes you’re just another slut, he’ll dump your ass like he did her. You think he’s going to save you? Babe, the second you get in the way, you’re gone. And I’ll be waiting.” “Fuck off,” I say, unable to keep the tremble out of my voice. I shove at him.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t think of anything the second the game ended except coming back here to you.”

Not while he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the world and holding me like he wishes we could meld into one.

“Hey, princess. Did I do good?” “It’s perfect.” I kiss him deeply, squeezing my arms around his neck. His hands settle underneath my thighs, holding me close. “You didn’t have to, though, it’s not cheap and I can always—” “No.” He cuts me off firmly. “This is a gift. Make new art with it, honey, okay?”

“This lingerie is so pretty,” he says as he traces over the lace on one of the blush pink bra cups. My breath hitches at the promise of contact where I want it. “Did you get this just for me?” I nod, digging my teeth into my lower lip.

“James—I’m gonna—” “Come, princess,” he tells me roughly as he presses a third finger into me. “Come on my fingers and I’ll give you my dick.”

“Bex,” he says, his voice still so low and rough it makes me shiver. “I want you,” I say. “I want . . .” “Keep going.” “I want you to fuck me,” I say in a rush. “Good girl,” he praises.

James Callahan has infiltrated my heart.

“Who’s Sara Wittman?” I sit up, heart jackhammering in my chest. “What did you say?” “Sara Wittman,” she says. “Was she your girlfriend?” “Yeah,” I say. “Babe, how did you . . .” She presses her lips together. “Tell me what happened with her. Tell me the real reason why you came to McKee.”

I know that she’s asking me something reasonable—she’s my girlfriend, she deserves to know about my past—but the part of me that still wants to protect Sara rebels against it. I haven’t spoken to her since that day in the hospital, but she still echoes in my mind from time to time. I loved her. I thought I was going to marry her one day.

“I didn’t break up with her, but she took it that way. And I hadn’t realized how fragile she was. She kept saying she was fine with it, but she spiraled.” “Spiraled how?” “She stopped going to class. She blew off her job working at the student center. She’d always been a bit of a party girl, but she started drinking during the day and taking pills.”

Bex’s eyes widen further. “What?” “I tried to ignore her calls because I wanted to set boundaries. I had no idea she was hurting so badly. Not until she called me the night before the last game of the season and told me she was going to—” I break off, my voice cracking. I’d never been as terrified as the moment I heard her voice. The panic in it still turned my stomach over. “No,” Bex says softly. “She cut herself.”

“By the time I got there, she’d already done it. She was passed out, and I couldn’t wake her up. I tried the whole time...

“She’s okay now. Her parents put her in a program so she could get the help she needed.” My voice cracks again. “Her father was grateful that I protected her when I could have used her as an excuse to make myself look good, so when all was said and done, he helped me wipe the slate clean and transfer to McKee, for a shot at a championship and maintaining my position in the draft. I fucking hurt his daughter, and he still . . .”

“It wasn’t your fault.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to pretend.” “I’m not.” She cups my cheek, her eyes searching mine. “When I was eleven, my father left my mother. One day he just packed up and left. It turned out he had another family, and everything he built with my mother, the diner, their marriage—he threw it away in an instant.” I stare at her. “What a fucking dick.”

She laughs shortly. “It destroyed my mother. She was pregnant, and the news shocked her so much that she miscarried. She turned into someone I didn’t even recognize, and even now, years later, she’s not the same.” Color floods her face. “She turned into someone who takes a valium with wine at noon and accidentally sets apartments on fire.” “Bex—”

“Even though I hate my father, I don’t blame him for how my mother still acts a decade later. What happened with Sara wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that’s how she would react. She was sick, and she needed help.” “She could have died.” “And she...