Fair Play Page 3

  My stomach tightens. I’m not sure why he wants me to stay behind, but can’t help think it has something to do with my English, or Ella. Either way, my lungs are tight, like I’d just been sacked by a linebacker.

  “Want me to wait?” Brady says.

  “No, go. I’ll catch up with you guys later. Save a keg for me.”

  Brady grins. “Later.”

  I stop at Coach’s desk, and before he can get a word out, I say. “Don’t worry, Coach. I have no plans to get involved with Ella, or even talking to her again. She’s trouble and who needs that kind of bullshit, right?”

  Intense eyes—eyes that never lose sight of the win—meet mine and hold. “You do.”

  What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

  3

  Ella

  I pace around the living room of our small apartment, the knot in my stomach tightening until I’m doubling over in pain. With my mind spinning a million miles an hour and shaky hands folded over my abdomen, I let loose a groan so loud and painful I’m certain my parents can hear it all the way to our orchard in San Francisco Bay. I expect the phone to ring any second now, my mom checking to see if I’m okay.

  “I can’t ever face any of them again,” I tell Peyton. “Ohmigod, I’ve spent the better part of my life working at staying under the radar, and now, well now I’ve gotten noticed, all right. In the worst possible way.”

  “Oh, come on,” Peyton says as she stretches her long legs out on the sofa. “It’s not that bad.”

  I jerk upright, my mouth open as I stare at her like she might have just grown a second head. “Not that bad? Not that bad! How can you say that, Peyton? They heard our entire conversation, and…Ohmigod,” I say again and tug a fistful of hair as I resume my pacing. “I might as well just pack up and leave campus right now.”

  “Come on. What did they really hear, Ella?” She gives a casual roll of her shoulder, and I want to grip her and give her a good hard shake.

  I throw my hands out. “Oh, just that I think they’re all brawn and no brain, and…and…oh God, they heard us talking about Landon’s cock.” Ohmigod, I’m mentioning his cock again when I swore I wouldn’t. My head drops, and a tortured animal sound rises in my throat as I put my hands over my face.

  “You mean his torpedo?” I glare at her through the cracks in my fingers and she jumps to her feet, and takes my hands from my face. “Right, right. This is not funny, and it’s all sort of my fault since I accidently hit the record button.”

  “Sort of your fault. It’s entirely your fault,” I say. Okay, it’s my fault, too. What was recorded on the camcorder was my responsibility since I was in charge of the damn thing, and I engaged in conversation about the players when I know better than to talk about someone behind their back.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  She blinks at me, and that wild look in her blue eyes tells me she has a plan, one I’m not going to like. “I know how to fix this.”

  “Yeah, me too. Grab the first bus to Canada. You don’t happen to have a winter coat and hat I can borrow, do you?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” I open my mouth to tell her I’m being less than dramatic, but she continues with, “It’s not as bad as you think. In fact, this could be good.” I glare at her so hard I’m beginning to give myself a headache. “Look,” she begins, her expression changing as she goes all therapist on me. “There isn’t a guy on that team who doesn’t like to talk about, or hear about, his cock. You gave Landon hero status, Ella.”

  “Oh please, like he needed me to say anything to give him hero status. The guy is already like a god on campus.” Peyton offers me that all-knowing smirk again and I snarl at her. “For the millionth time, I do not like him.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  She puts her hands on my shoulders, aware that I’m about to stomp off to my bedroom like a petulant child. “Fine, you don’t like him, and you can’t quit this gig because you need the money, the credit, and—”

  “And now I’m stuck having to face him one on one.” I slap my forehead. “Could this day get any worse?”

  “Coach could have asked you to tutor Caleb.” She pulls a face like she’d just eaten something distasteful. “That could have been worse.”

  “I’m not so certain,” I say under my breath. Peyton might have had a thing with Caleb that went bad fast, but he’s nothing to me. Tutoring him in English would be easier, because every time I looked at him, or sat close to him, I wouldn’t have some ridiculous fantasy running around inside my brain.

  You hate football players, Ella.

  Why on Earth do I have to keep reminding myself of that?

  I take a calming breath and glance toward the window when a car goes by, honking the horn. Freshmen, likely. “I could go to the Dean.” It’s an option, but I already feel the fight going out of me.

  “What will that accomplish?” Peyton puckers her lips as I consider it. She’s right, it won’t accomplish anything. In fact, it might make matters worse for me. If I don’t get this credit…

  Despite that, I say, “It’s blackmail, Peyton. Coach Meyer is blackmailing me into tutoring a student.”

  “He could have fired you.”

  “I wish he would have,” I grumble.

  “No, you don’t. You can’t take a chance on losing your scholarship.” Her hands fall from my shoulders and she walks to the kitchen to grab two water bottles.

  “You’re right,” I mutter, defeat clear in my voice. “I don’t and I can’t. But to ask me to tutor Landon…” She hands me a bottle and I take a big sip and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “That’s going too far.” I give a shake of my head. “After overhearing our conversation, he knew he had me right where he wanted me.” With a snort, I lift my water bottle and click it with Peyton’s. “Well done, Coach. Well done.”

  “Yeah, after hearing you talk about Landon’s cock, I don’t know why—”

  “Can we just not say that anymore.” I take another fast sip to wet my parched throat. “Can we just not say Landon’s cock.”

  She taps her chin, and frowns. “Come to think of it, I guess I can understand why he asked you. He knows your grades since he interviewed you for the position, and you made it clear you weren’t interested, and Landon has a way of charming the girls out of their pants. I guess Coach figured you weren’t susceptible to his charm, and could get the job at hand done.”

  Don’t think about hand jobs, don’t think about hand jobs.

  Great, now I’m thinking of hand jobs.

  I wipe my damp brow, and push my hair back. “Yeah, well he doesn’t have to worry there, but it’s still blackmail, and he could have hired a guy to tutor him. I’m not the only option on campus.”

  Her mouth turns up at the corner. “Landon can probably charm a guy out of his pants too.”

  “You are not helping.”

  “It’s a win/win.” She lifts her hand and holds out one finger. “One, Landon needs his grade up.” She holds up a second finger. “Two, Coach needs Landon to play.” A third finger joins the mix. “And three, you need the credit and don’t forget the extra cash that comes with tutoring will definitely go a long way in getting that new camera you want.”

  I pause as visions of the Panasonic Lumix flashes in my mind. I’ve been drooling over that piece of equipment since it hit the market. My birthday is coming up and I wouldn’t dream of asking my parents for it. No, all their disposable income goes to keeping Ivy in school, in her very expensive sorority, at that. How lucky that I received an academic scholarship, considering they couldn’t afford to send us both away to Kingston College here in South California. The droughts the last few years have really hit our farm hard, and forking out the money for two of us was out of the question. Thanks to my hard work, Ivy now gets an elite education, without ever having worked for it. I just wish she’d put a little more energy into her Arts degree and less into getting her MRS. Yeah, she’s basically here to find herself a rich husband. I don’
t begrudge her, though. I want only what’s best for her. I always have. Just like she wants what’s best for me.

  “Okay, what do you have in mind for fixing this?” I finally ask.

  “You need to come to the party tonight.”

  I back up, and give a hard shake of my head. “No way. That is not going to fix anything.”

  “Sure it is. All the guys will be there, and you can apologize to them. You can’t hide from this, and coming forth, owning what you did is the best approach.”

  I groan. She’s right. I know it, but how the hell can I face those guys? “Can’t I just do it tomorrow after practice or something?”

  “Nope.” She grabs my hand and starts hauling me into my bedroom. “It has to be tonight. You won’t get any sleep if you don’t get this done and over with right away. You can apologize and say you were wrong when you called them all brawn and no brains.”

  I crinkle my nose, upset with myself. “That really wasn’t very nice of me.”

  “It wasn’t and you’re a nice person, Ella.” She stops and turns to me. Her face is soft, her eyes wide and sympathetic. “I know why you did it, though. But none of these guys were responsible for what happened to Jacob.”

  Hearing Jacob’s name on her tongue floods my veins with ice. Jacob was a good guy, the best guy I knew. His future was ripped right out from underneath him, thanks to a bunch of jocks flexing their muscle and proving their worth by constantly hurting and belittling others. It’s been four long years since it happened, and it’s still so fresh. Peyton, Jacob and I had always been the three musketeers.

  Peyton, who is way better at forgiveness than I am, takes my hands in hers. “Breathe, hun.”

  I nod and take a deep, fueling breath. “I’m okay, and you know what, maybe you’re right. Maybe I should march into that party tonight and apologize. I mean, Landon did invite me, right?”

  “He got a touchdown just for you.”

  My thoughts come to a screeching halt. “After hearing what I said, he probably hates me.”

  “Then you better make it right, because you have to tutor him. A straight up apology is best, Ella. You know that.”

  “I do.”

  “Okay.” She lets my hand go. “Now we need to find something hot for you to wear. You need to show off your great tits.”

  I glance down at my overalls and T-shirt, not fashionable by any means, but I don’t care, at least they cover my…great tits. “If I’m only going there to apologize, why do I need something hot to wear?” I eye my friend. “Peyton…” I begin. “Oh hell no. If this is about hooking me up with Landon.”

  “This has nothing to do with Landon.”

  I snort. Honestly, I’d trust a lion luring a gazelle in for a playdate before I’d believe that.

  “Look, all I’m saying is it’s your fourth year here. Do you want to go out into the big bad world with your cherry still intact?”

  “My cherry—”

  “All I’m saying is maybe it’s time you got rid of your pesky virginity, and—”

  I eye her. “Pesky? That’s what we’re calling it?”

  She pulls out a dress and holds it up to me. “Sex is so much fun, girlfriend. You are missing out big time, and when you get out into the real world, wouldn’t you rather have some experience behind you…” She winks and adds, “Or on top of you. It won’t just be footballers at the party. Lots of guys will be there.”

  Oh, but there is only one guy I’m interested in giving my pesky virginity to, and Peyton must know it, which is why she’s pushing so hard.

  Wait, what!

  Okay, there must have been too much testosterone on the field today. I’m not thinking with clarity here. I’m not interested in giving anyone my virginity. I don’t think.

  “This won’t do.” Peyton tosses the dress onto my bed, and hauls me across the hall to her room. I stand there as she roots through her closet, tossing clothes everywhere, until her room is a mess. She’s seriously on a mission, because she’s the tidy one in this duo. “Got it.” She comes out breathless, like she’d just run a damn marathon. “This one will look amazing on you. It’s tight on me now, and you’re smaller, so it’s yours if you want it.”

  She frowns and I know she’s bummed that she’s put on weight. “You know you’re gorgeous, right? All the guys are crazy about you.”

  “Not all of them,” she mumbles, and before I can ask she says, “This is about you, not me.”

  Sensing she doesn’t want to talk about her bit of weight gain, I take the fabric into my hand. “It is pretty.” At least she didn’t come out with something that showed off my cooch-cooch, as Peyton calls it.

  “Put it on.”

  I unbuckle my overalls and let them fall to the floor. Unceremoniously, I kick them off. “One of these days, I’m going to have to teach you how to remove your clothes seductively. That drop and kick move isn’t going to cut it.”

  “It’s not a performance.”

  “Not right now, but someday it will be.” She’s so serious it makes me laugh.

  “Ivy is the actress, not me.” I pull on the dress and her eyes light.

  “I knew it. Look at those tits.”

  I turn to the mirror and adjust the wrap dress over my breasts, covering them up just a bit more. I have to admit, I normally don’t gravitate toward tight dresses that show off my curves—I’m venturing into Ivy’s department here—but I kind of like it.

  “Do you think I look too much like my sister?”

  “You look like you, Ella. Beautiful, sexy and tonight, tongues are going to hang.”

  A strange little thrill goes through me. I’m not one for attention, and have never needed validation from the opposite sex, yet I can’t help but wonder what Landon will do when he sees me in this. I turn around, and look at my ass. I give a little twerk to shake my booty and Peyton claps her hands.

  “Sexy Ella is in the house. Although I must say, on the field today, Landon liked what he saw.”

  Another stupid thrill goes through me. “Do you think?” I ask quickly, too quickly, judging by the smirk on Peyton’s face.

  “He invited you tonight, didn’t he?”

  I crinkle my nose. “Do you think he lost a bet or something?”

  She laughs. “Hell no, girlfriend. You just don’t see what the rest of the world sees.” She stands behind me and takes my hair into her hands as we both look into the mirror. “How about a little blonde highlights right here in the front, to frame your face? I have a kit.” She brushes a few strands over my shoulders.

  “Then I’ll really look like Ivy.”

  “No, you’ll look like you. I love your brown hair, but this will really brighten your face.”

  I shrug. “I dunno.”

  “Trust me?” Our eyes meet in the mirror.

  “There isn’t anyone in the world I trust more.”

  “Good, then get out of this dress and into something old so we can dye your hair.”

  I change quickly and she drags me to the bathroom, and less than an hour later, I have blonde highlights framing my face. I grin at myself in the mirror as Peyton finishes blow drying my curls.

  “So, what do you think?” she asks.

  I turn my head left then right, let my hair bounce over my shoulders. “I actually like it,” I tell her, but from the big smile on my face, she can already tell.

  Squealing with excitement, she sets the blow dryer down and turns me to face her. She runs the strands of my hair through her fingers. “This blonde really makes your blue eyes pop. Landon isn’t going to know what to do with you.”

  “Peyton,” I scold. “None of this is for Landon.”

  She blinks dark lashes over not-so-innocent eyes. “I only mean he was the one who invited you and you’re just so damn gorgeous, Ella. You’re the only one who doesn’t realize it.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the compliment, but the thing is, I don’t want a guy to like me because I look a certain way. I want them to like me for wh
o I am.” I put my hand on my chest. “In here, you know. If they want this...” I pause and circle my finger around my face. “They can get with Ivy.”

  “I know, and that guy you’re talking about will come along, trust me. Until then, let’s just go have some fun.”

  A little bubble of excitement wells up in my stomach as I give myself one last glance in the mirror. Honestly, I can’t believe in the three years I’ve been on campus I’ve yet to go to a frat party. We dress in our party outfits, and Peyton groans when I slide into my flats, but I don’t care. Comfort is a big deal for me.

  “I’ll let that go,” she grumbles and slides her arm into mine. We head outside and the night air is warm, and humid, which will likely make a mess of my new hair. Since Landon’s house is just a few blocks away, we walk over. Peyton has a car, but no sense in bringing it, especially if she’s drinking. I could always drive. I plan to stay sober, as I have apologies to make. As we approach the house, music blares from the open windows. It’s a good thing most of the houses in the area are rented by college students. No family would put up with the football team’s antics. Cars are parked all over the place, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the cops get called. Then again, the police give a lot of leeway to the players, as long as no one is underage or drinking and driving.

  “Excited?”

  “I’m the laughingstock of the football team, Peyton, and I’m here to apologize. I’d hardly call what I’m feeling excited.” My steps slow. “I know you come to these things all the time, but I don’t know, maybe it’s not the right place for me to apologize. The guys are probably all drunk by now.”

  She grabs my arm. “You need to get it done and over with tonight. The longer you wait, the worse it will be. Trust me, and I promise, if you’re not comfortable, we leave. Girl code. I promise. Also, you’ll need a safe word.”