Nice job, Tuck.
Before I know what happens, I’m thrown back onto the grass, with Sophie pouncing on top of me cheering and screaming her lungs out. I look to her beaming face and giggle at her reaction to the win. Whether it be school pride or Lane or the fact her man will be on his way home very shortly, I join in on the celebration with her.
“You do realize you are dry humping me?”
Her legs straddle my mid-section and she just laughs even harder and then rolls off of me. “Oh my god, Blue, they did it. They had to have that win.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I know all of this and try to not care.
“Why don’t you try to call him, Blue?”
It’s the first time she’s brought him up since the disastrous day at the diner.
“He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me.”
“Yeah, I know, but Lane says it’s more complicated than that, and Tuck just needs a woman to push him, and Noah said he thinks Tuck will really fall for you.”
Rolling up onto my side, I face Sophie’s profile. “Why in the hell would I want to keep fighting for a person who does nothing but turn me on and then turn me down? I don’t deserve to be hurt time after time. Problems or not, I deserve better.”
“True.” She pauses for a moment. “But I know you fell for him too.”
“I did. I have. I am. I’m over it.”
“It’s okay to fight for love, Blue.”
“I know.” My head falls down on her shoulder, and I watch the after game interviews with her. The coach’s proud and humble face, Noah’s dazzling white smile and damn sexier than sin blonde damp hair, all front and center answering questions, while Tuck remains in the background even though he was the true hero of the game. Not even one sports broadcaster approaches him. With his running back coach by his side, and then the head coach and Noah shielding him from being seen, I realize it’s not just me. Tuck doesn’t want the world to see him, and something about that soothes my broken heart a tick.
Chapter 15
It’s the third home game before fall break, and I’m still a bundle of nerves as I roll out of bed. The alarm clock on my nightstand blinks back 4:32 a.m. and I know it’s worthless to even try to nuzzle back down in my blankets. Sleep has done escaped me, and I know it’s because of a curious mixture of nerves and excitement.
There’s not any greater high than cheering at a hometown football game, especially in the huge, roaring stadium. The energy is something I can’t even begin to explain.
Mom and Dad were supposed to be at the first home game, but Mom took a header on an icy patch, and Dad basically had to tie her down in bed. And then while she was strapped down with a fractured ankle, he broke the news to her that I wouldn’t be able to attend the scheduled family vacation to the Bahamas for Thanksgiving.
You’d have thought Dad broke her other ankle when the news hit her, but I’ve reassured her that I have several open invitations to spend the holiday with my coaches and teammates, which is the truth, but it still didn’t help her. I think finally last night she came to grips with a romantic getaway with Dad.
My feet hit the cold floor and I tiptoe toward the door. I decide on an early hot shower and don’t want to wake Sophie. The poor girl has been put number two on Lane’s list behind football, and we’ve hung out more the last month than the total combined since meeting. And it’s been nice. Actually it’s been perfect and has given Sophie and me a chance to get to know each other. Between her, cheer, and school, they’ve been the ideal distraction from my screaming, aching heart.
The communal bathroom is perfect this early in the morning. The scent of fresh lemon cleaner fills the air, and the water is soothingly hot in a matter of minutes. I allow the scalding water to wash away my worries and some of my nerves. I hear my phone go off as I turn off the shower. I grab my towel quickly to dry off before I pick it up, because I know exactly who it is. Tuck texts me every single game day. He never responded when I sent him a text after his first game, but has sent me one every game morning since then, and it still comes up as a random number.
Like I said, my heart still screams out in pain at odd moments, and most of them happen at night when I run. Some say time heals all, but going on nine weeks of mourning Tuck’s denial, I’m not sure it will ever get easier. When I’m finally dry enough, I snatch the phone from the bench.
Game day. Thinking of you, Blue.
If their winning streak continues, I’ll send him the same text I’ve always sent him. It’s beyond fucked up, but I need that crumb of hope. As far as I know, not even Sophie knows we text those simple lines on game days.
A shiver races up my spine, causing my body temperature to drop and chills to spread. I race back to the dorm room, remembering to actually shut and lock the door behind me. Sophie’s light snoring fills the dark room. I quickly braid my hair and throw it over my shoulder as I climb back in bed and reread Tuck’s text over and over. I realize as the weeks have played out without him in my life, that each day I become weaker and weaker.
My fingers are hungry to type a message back to him, and it doesn’t consist of anything about the game, but my heart can’t handle another rejection from the man of my dreams. The one who has placed the most wicked curse he could’ve on a heart and doesn’t even know it. The saddest part of the whole story is I’d let Tuck take me to bed in an instant.
Fuck this. I need my head on straight and have fought to keep it that way the last months. Creeping back out of bed, I throw on my sleek black running pants and a hoodie, then lace up my running sneakers. I can’t sleep and need to release some endorphins to clear my mind. I still run every single night, and knowing me, I’ll run again tonight while Sophie has her usual fuck frenzy with Lane.
It’s dark when I make it outside, and the brisk air feels refreshing as I take off on the trail. I’ve often wondered what time Tuck runs now, or where he runs, because it’s never with me. Stuffing in my ear buds, I turn on a low-key running playlist, knowing I need a laid back workout this morning. When the first bead of sweat rolls down my forehead, I realize I’m going to have to shower again. I really need to look into applying for the poster child for “hot mess.”
***
My fingers itch to text Tuck. We’ve blown out the opponent, and it’s homecoming, so the crowd is especially wild and rambunctious. The student section is spackled with bare-chested students with painted letters on their skin. They’ve made the job of cheering simple and electrifying. My eyes remained glued to the big screen watching replays, since the field is impossible to see from the sidelines.
And thanks to Tuck, my arms burn and my abs are screaming at me, since we have to do push-ups every time our team scores, and it’s not just seven each time. It’s the total score, and the asshole has racked up thirty-five points alone, and the final score is fifty-six.
“Blue.” Sophie’s face beams brightly as she runs over and hugs me. “Man, that was amazing.”
Stephie quit the squad a month ago and hasn’t been seen since. Word on campus is she was knocked up and it wasn’t Ethan’s baby, so instead of facing her mistake, she ran. Seems pretty typical of someone that shallow, and I can’t say I miss her. She did her best to be a royal bitch while she was cheering at the few home games with us, but she’d never know my broken heart trumped all of her cruelty toward me.
“We have to go out tonight, Blue.” She squeezes the top of my arm tightly. “Lane said if they win, the whole team was going to meet up. We have to go.”
“We’re in.”
I see Brandi and Sarah with shit-eating grins plastering their face and know the two of them would love something like that. They are just two gigantic flirts out for a good time.