“Out.” If I tell him, he’ll want to stop me.
I’ve got nearly a foot on Ellie and I work out daily, so it’s easy to catch up with her. I grab her shoulder, and when she turns, she has tears on her face and her nose is Rudolph red. My heart squeezes.
“I’m sorry.” I try to pull her against me but she resists.
“For what? Me not able to tell you two apart?”
“No, for making you go through with it. It doesn’t matter.” I reach for her again but she backs away. “I don’t care.”
Her lips twist in a bitter line. “I kissed your brother. There’s absolutely no difference between the two of you in real life. It even felt the same.”
I ignore the stabbing pain, the image she’s conjuring. “Why are you lying to me?”
She presses her lips together. They’re trembling. She’s trembling. I can’t take it anymore and I pull her rigid frame against mine.
“I can’t be with you, Knox. I told you I wanted to sleep with a virgin and now…now you deserve someone better than me.”
“Don’t say that shit, Ellie. You don’t believe it.”
“You don’t want to believe it. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m not the one. I’m not. Go home, Masters. Please.”
It’s the use of my last name that breaks through my thick skull. My hand drops to my side. This time when she whirls around and runs, I don’t chase her.
Ty is still sitting on the sofa where I left him. ESPN is on. They’re talking about the matchups tomorrow but none of it registers.
“You want to talk?” he asks quietly as I toe off my boots.
“No.” What’s there to say? I fucked up. “Let’s eat.”
The food is cold but Ty and I eat it anyway. We talk about the Cougar’s offense and the inability of their offensive line get their pads low enough to stop a hard charging pass rush like ours. It should be an easy win for us. The Cougar’s are the second-worst team in our conference.
After dinner, Matty comes up to tell us some of the guys are going to watch Any Given Sunday. I beg off citing tiredness as an excuse and they let me go without calling me on my bullshit. Knowing I need some privacy, Ty accepts the invitation and leaves.
In the quiet of my bedroom, I take myself in hand and close my eyes. There I see Ellie as she looked that night at Hammer’s party. Her eyes went wide as saucers and she licked her lips as if parched as a sinner in the desert.
In every line of her body, I read she wanted her hand around my dick. She wanted me in that moment more than I’ve wanted most things in my life, until I met her.
She started panting. I don’t know if she even realized it. Her breath came short and her chest heaved, pushing those pretty tits against her sparkly top, making my vision blur.
I tighten my grip around my dick, using all the precome to lube my shaft. I cup my balls with my free hand and let my head fall back onto the pillows. The images in my head shift from that night to the one where I took her for the first time…or maybe it’s more appropriate to think of her taking me. Whatever. That night I knew a God existed. That heaven existed.
The hot suck of her body on my dick gave more pleasure than I thought I had in me. I move my hand more rapidly and my hips jack into the air.
I love you.
I don’t know who’s saying it in my head—me or her or us together, but the memory of it makes me come in one long shuddering motion. The orgasm rips through me, tears open the scar tissue over my heart, and renders me a gasping, pained mess.
The lonely night stretches endlessly in front of me.
???
Game Day: Warriors 7-0
At the start of the game the next day, I don’t feel different. When I stand on the sideline, I’m as eager to get on the field as ever. At least I understand what goes on during a football game. My goal is to stop the ball from advancing down the field. There’s no uncertainty here.
But today I’m sluggish off the snap. My feet feel heavy and everyone speeds by me like I’m standing still.
“What’s going on in your head, Masters?” Coach shouts at me when I come off the field, after Wisconsin scored the second touchdown.
“Nothing, Coach.”
“Well, start thinking about some plays.”
Our defensive coordinator is less generous. He grabs me by the facemask and screams. “Get your head in the game.”
The other guys huddle around me on the bench as Coach Johnson draws up the plays that Wisconsin is running. They aren’t surprise plays. But they’re getting off the ball faster. Their cuts are sharper. The left outside linebacker whose ass I’ve owned for two years is pushing me backward.
“She’s in your head, man,” Matty hisses when Johnson moves down to talk to the backfield.
I shake my head. “No. We’re just off today.”