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Story: Falling for the Quarterback (Clearview Falls University)
Chapter Nine
C harlotte
I stare at my phone.
Should I leave and just not be here when he rings my bell? He says he needs to talk, but nothing good can come of that. I wouldn’t allow any of my other students to show up unannounced at my door.
He’s not just any student, I think testily.
While my mind races with possibilities of what to do and how to handle this conundrum, I’m already in search of a cute outfit. I’m mad at myself for caving so easily. This absolutely can’t happen again. In fact, I should put on my grungiest track pants and a crumpled-up T-shirt. There’s no reason I need to look good for Joel.
My phone buzzes, and as if we somehow share a telepathic link, I see Poppy’s name appear on my screen. How is it that my best friend always seems to sense when I need her most?
“I was just thinking of you,” I state and toss the phone on the bed so I can start undressing.
“Oh? Have you gone to the dean yet?” she asks without preamble. I pause. Why is she asking that?
“Not yet, why?” I pull on a new off-the-shoulder jumper. The temperature here in the mountains has begun to drop and I feel as though I’m in England in the winter.
“Don’t do it. I’ve put a lot of thought into this, and I think you should see where this goes with your hot student.” I freeze again. This is a complete mindfuck. I can’t have my bestie acting like the naughty devil on my shoulder, encouraging me to do something bad.
It would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to be with Joel. But I can’t do it. It’s a no-win situation. Being with him means risking my career. Yet I’ve never felt an attraction so strong that I was willing to risk everything to be with a man.Will I miss out on the potential love of my life if I put an end to things with Joel?
“Sod off,” I snipe miserably. “Seriously, Pops. It’s wrong and we both know it. And you need to be the voice of reason for me.”
She sighs and I know she’s rolling her eyes, which only increases my irritation further.
“I’m serious. I can’t keep doing this with him. My entire reputation is on the line here. No man is worth that,” I explain through gritted teeth, even though I can’t help but think of what I’ll miss.
“But, Lots, what if he’s the one? You don’t want to let this go just because of some drama that won’t even exist in a few more months, do you?” she prods in that persuasive manner of hers. “You’ve never been one to give up without a fight.”
I take a deep breath and consider my next words carefully. “For the sake of argument, let’s just say I decide to continue things with Joel and give this relationship a go. And then someone finds out about the circumstances in which we met last spring. It could ruin my whole academic career and reputation, and then what? I came here to get away from a situation that almost derailed my dreams and I’d be putting myself right back into one.”
I think of how Oliver treated me when we were together. How he verbally abused me and put me down, nearly ruining my self-esteem. How he grabbed my arm during that last fight we had. How I almost fell apart after that. It nearly ended me and my pursuit of my education and career. I had to dig deep inside myself to muster the courage to leave and put myself first. And I did it. I got into the doctoral program in Boston, and I promised myself to never let a man get between me and my career again.
“Joel is not the man who shall not be named. This is different. You talked about this guy for months after meeting him last spring. You two had a connection then and clearly still do. I say, as your best friend, you should get over your worries and just go for it. Screw everything else. Just go for it.”
The doorbell rings and my heart lurches with anticipation because on the other side of that door is Joel. I smooth my hair down and check myself in the mirror.
“Nice talk. Thanks, Pops. I have to go. I’ll ring back later,” I say in one breath, hanging up and walking to my front door. My head spins with each step.
What am I going to do? Even as I stand on this precipice of indecision, I am no closer to figuring it out.
When I open the door, I find him standing there, his head slightly bent at an angle, thumbs hooked in his jean pockets, casually leaning against the front porch railing. Looking like he belongs here, without a care in the world.
Of course, he looks hot enough to fuck with his messy hair and chiseled jaw. How is a woman supposed to stand firm and not cave when this man is in front of her? The universe is so unfair.
“May I come in?” he asks, lifting his flirtatious gaze to me. When I don’t move and remain silent—I’m not even sure what to say—the corners of his mouth curve into a knowing grin.
He glides forward with that cocky confidence of his, sidestepping me as he enters the house, and I shut the door behind him. The minute I turn around, his body crowds mine against the door, his strong arms caging me in as he leans forward.
He inhales, breathing in the scent of me, and my own breath stops, my stomach flutters wildly.
“Mmm…you smell good, Professor,” he murmurs, running the tip of his nose along my cheek before planting a gentle kiss on it. Then he takes a step back, offering me much-needed space to think straight, and makes a sweeping glance around my living room, as if he never got a good look the first time he was here.
I step away from the door and into the room, side-stepping Joel to take a seat on the sofa all while making myself a promise to keep my lustful behavior buried tonight. My stomach takes this moment to loudly protest with a hungry growl and I realize I haven’t had dinner yet. Joel’s eyebrows fly to the ceiling.
“Have you eaten? I was thinking of ordering some Chinese takeaway.”
Joel moves to the smaller sofa across from me and sits down. “Sure. I could eat. Sounds good. Thanks.”
I pull up the delivery app for the only Chinese restaurant in town, trying to stall this conversation and catch my breath. But I can’t help watching out of the corner of my eye as Joel casually extends an arm along the back of the cushions ever so coolly, his legs opening into a V as he effortlessly props one foot over a knee. The move has his T-shirt tightening to outline the rolling hills of his abdominals underneath, and the denim of his jeans stretches oh-so-perfectly over his muscular thighs, outlining what I know is a very large package.
It’s easy to see why so many women on campus—and probably men too—are obsessed with him. He’s sexy when he’s not even trying.
I give myself a mental shake. Stop this madness immediately.
Taking a spot on the chair across from the couch, I punch in my order and then hand the phone over to him.He takes it from me, looks at it and then sets it down next to him. Then he pulls out his own phone and dials a number that must be in his contacts.
“Yo, Big Mike. It’s Hendy. I need to place an order to go. Yep. Awesome.” I give him an incredulous look. Didn’t I have this handled?
Hendy rattles off a list of food that could probably feed an entire football team, including the items on my list.
“Uh-huh. Yep. Thanks. See you in fifteen.”
“What was that all about?” I ask, completely perplexed by what just transpired.
Hendy gives me a lopsided grin. “I know the owner and his son. Mike and I had a class together when he was a senior and I was a sophomore. He needed some help getting football tickets for his dad’s business partner and I hooked them up. Since then, I’ve been a VIP.” He pauses and shrugs. “Perks of being a football player in a college town. What can I say?”
Of course he’s friends with the owner. Why wouldn’t he be? Hendy is known in these parts by everyone.
If CFU had a mayor, it’d be Hendy.
Joel moves and stretches, his T-shirt lifting a fraction of an inch to display those ridiculous abs, and I look away. Gah. I can’t even trust myself to look at him, much less be near him.
Which brings us back to the reason why he’s here tonight.
“You said you wanted to talk to me, and here you are. So go ahead. While we wait for dinner, say what you need to say.” I hope to sound convincing, even though my hands shake with nerves and there’s a slight tremor in my voice. I slip my hands under my butt and draw my heels up on the couch cushion.
He purses his lips in consideration and finally nods. “Okay…why did you come to the US?”
“What? That’s a random question and not what I thought we’d be discussing.”
He laughs and shrugs. “Just want to get to know you better.”
I throw out my hand for him to stop. “Nuh-uh. There is no need for that because after tonight, this ends.”
“Come on…indulge me a little,” he says in a crestfallen voice. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know about me. Open book.”
“Joel,” I say, a pleading look in my eyes. “We can’t. You’re my student.”
He lifts his brows. “Technically, we’re now colleagues. And friends.”
Friends? Does he mean with benefits?
Is there a world where Joel and I could exist as friends? I’m not so sure.
“What? How is that, exactly?” I reply, my voice raising an octave. Does that mean he’s dropping out and not finishing his master’s program? If so, that definitely changes things.
“I got a job offer with the university today,” he says. As if that’s not a big deal.
This has taken a weird turn. “Doing what?”
“Coaching football.”
“American football or ‘real’ football?” I jest, unable to help myself.
Joel barks out a laugh, wagging his finger at me. “I’m not talking soccer. Good one, though.”
“What does that mean for your grad program?”
“Nothing really, except I think I’ll be very busy this semester.” He looks down at the time on his phone. “I’d rather be busy than bored though, you know? It’ll keep my thoughts off of other things I can’t have.” He gazes intently at me, and I not only hear but see his innuendo.
Joel stands suddenly and reaches for my hand to help me up. “We should go pick up that food. And then maybe we can catch one of your real football games on TV?”
I pause at the threshold, my hand stuck on the doorknob, suddenly nervous about people seeing us together. Before I can express this concern, Hendy leans forward, his large palm gently covering my hand, which trembles under his touch.
“Don’t worry. If anyone asks, I’ll just say I’m your new research assistant and we are working on a paper,” he assures me, his breath hot against my ear. “Trust me. I’ll be good.”
Good…but something inside me wants him to be bad.
* * *
We pick up our takeaway and walk back toward my house. As we turn the corner and cross to the other side of the street, Joel positions himself between me and the road. That small gesture of chivalry makes me feel safe, as if Hendy would fight off an entire army to protect me.
“The game tonight is Tottenham versus Chelsea. It started an hour ago, but I’m recording it,” I explain.
“Ahh…so I’ll get to see the ‘real’ game of football. I can’t wait.” He bumps me with his hip, and I giggle like a schoolgirl.
“You have much to learn. They’re Premier League football teams.”
With the game turned on, we grab spots on my couch, setting our food and drinks between us. We eat and watch in comfortable silence for a few minutes until the ref makes a terrible call.
“Oh, come on!” I yell. “That was offsides!”
“I don’t think so. Watch the replay. I’m pretty sure it was the right call,” Hendy says.
I glare at him and then watch the replay. And bloody hell, he’s right. Dammit, this is supposed to be my game.
“How do you know the rules of football?” I ask testily, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes drop to my breasts and I swat his shoulder. “Eyes up here, Henderson.”
He chuckles and shrugs. “I mean, I’ve played every FIFA PlayStation game since I was like ten. Not too hard to catch on.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you have.”
He smirks. God damn him and those lips. My body heats up at the memory of what those lips can do to me.
I stuff another bite of Kung Pao Chicken into my mouth and avert my gaze from his mouth.
For the next two hours, we watch the match and argue over the virtues of both types of football. By the end of the match, we’re both shouting at the refs and when my favorite player scores in the last minute of the match, Hendy gives me a hug, lifting me off my feet and swinging me around in celebration.
It scares me how good it feels in his arms, so when he sets me down, I quickly dash into the kitchen.
“I’m still hungry,” I mutter, quickly grabbing the half-eaten jar of Nutella and smearing it on a slice of bread. “You?”
“Whatcha got for dessert?”
When I come back to the living room licking my lips, Joel stares at me as if he wants a taste of me.
“What’s that?”
“Only the most delicious thing ever,” I state, taking another unladylike bite. “Nutella sandwich.”
He makes a gagging nose and wrinkles his nose.
“Don’t yuck my yum,” I say defensively. “Who doesn’t like Nutella?”
“Me.”
“That’s one strike,” I tease, popping the last bite into my mouth.
He leans over the tray of empty containers between us, his voice as seductive as ever. “What happens if I get three strikes?”
“I don’t actually know,” I answer truthfully because I really don’t know what we’re doing right now.
Are we flirting? Is this some kind of foreplay between us?
In the end, Joel forgoes dessert, and we share a little about each other’s families and our backgrounds. He tells me about his younger sister attending CFU this year, his time with the football team, and his nerves about starting the coaching position.
None of it has solved our growing problem and the attraction between us that can’t be squelched.
By the time my eyelids begin to grow heavy and I curl up against Hendy’s side on the loveseat, I’ve reassured myself that Joel and I can find a way to just be friends.
“I’m exhausted,” I mutter, finally letting my eyelids close.
“Come on, Professor. Let’s get you to bed.” His voice seems far away, and I feel weightless and safe when he picks me up and carries me down the hallway.
The last thing I remember as I drift off to sleep is wishing this man could be lying asleep next to me.