Johnny Deeper: A Sports Romance (41 page)

Luckily, Junior doesn’t seem to notice any of these flaws. Either that or he’s picked up quite a few acting skills from me during our study sessions.

We climb the stairs to the third floor. I hesitate for a brief moment with my hand on the door knob, quickly realizing that I’m about to invite a man into my damn bedroom. My heart stops but I push the door open anyway to let him inside.

“This is your room?” he chuckles, his brown eyes invaded by the bright pink colors and cartoon cats.

“It sure is… or rather, it’s the room of the daughter Cary Pierce
thinks
he has. It was like this when I moved in.”

I stand still, watching as Junior wanders over to the bed. He sets his cup down next to my lamp and his eyes scan the room again with interest. I take a quick sip from my coffee. It’s warm and comforting but I can’t seem to shake the awkward feeling off my shoulders.

“So… what did she look like?” I ask.

“Who?”

“My dad’s victory hoe.”

He laughs. “Oh, your standard blonde, I guess. Long legs, big tits. An outfit about ten years too young for her…”

“Sounds about right,” I smile. “And there were no more victory hoes left for the star quarterback to take home?”

“You are my victory hoe.” I raise an eyebrow and his grin falls. “I mean…” he chokes on his tongue, “that sounded
way
different in my head.”

I laugh at the embarrassment on his face. “It’s okay. I know what you mean…
I think
.”

I take another sip of coffee to try and break the chill in the room but it doesn’t work. I haven’t been able to shake it since I came home — that rush of shivers dancing down my spine, unable to make up its mind whether it wants me to feel hot or cold. I set the cup down and grab a zip-up sweater off the back of my desk chair to throw on.

“Aren’t you warm?” he asks. “It’s hot in here.”

“Can’t seem to break this cold chill, actually,” I answer, feeling it scratch down my back again. “Must be part of the stomach bug or something...”

“Here…” Junior steps over to me and lays his hands on my arms. He rubs them up and down, creating friction on my skin. “Let me warm you up.”

Another shiver rolls over my body but it isn’t from the cold. “Thank you.” My teeth chatter as I say it and he grins at me.

“Come on.” He guides me over to the bed and sits me down, grabbing a folded up blanket near the edge to wrap me up with. “Luckily, you’re looking at the king of sick days.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Nothing makes you feel better like a big blanket, a comfy bed, and—” he reaches over to my bedside table and snatches the TV remote, “really shitty television.”

I laugh and collapse against my pillows. “Sounds like a plan.”

Junior slides onto the bed and a dizzy rush trembles me as he lies down behind me, wrapping his arm around me to hold the blanket in place. “I always preferred the cartoon channels — still do, but I understand if you’d rather binge on something a little more
mature
.”

“I could go for some cartoons,” I smile.

“Good answer…”

Junior surfs for a while before finally finding a good channel amongst the thousands available on my father’s useless satellite dish.

He tosses the remote aside and tightens his grip on me. His heat blends with mine and I quickly forget all about the chill taking hold of my skin.

 

***

 

I wake up the next morning still in his arms, locked in a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

Junior stirs as I do. His eyes flick with confusion but it quickly dissipates as he realizes where he is.

He gazes down at me and smiles. “Hey...”

“Hey.”

A knock strikes the door.

“Hey, Eliza!”

Junior bolts up on the bed.

“Closet, closet, closet—”
I shove him towards it and he almost falls to the floor. He rights himself and manages to hide away just a second before my doors opens.

Dad walks in, wearing the same clothes he wore last night. My nose twitches, able to sense the mix of cheap booze and dollar store perfume on his collar from across the room.

“Hey—” he greets, smiling. “Missed you at the game last night.”

I nod, focusing all my self-control on not drawing attention to the closet. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t feeling well and—”

“We won.”

“Yeah, I could hear the screaming on campus from all the way out here. Congrat—”

“Try and make the next one, all right?” he interrupts. “It looks good for you to show your support.”

I force a smile. “Of course. I’ll try. Sorry, I missed—”

He leaves before I even finish the sentence.

I stand up and walk silently to the closet. Junior has concealed himself behind a line of my blouses but he’s completely visible from the waist down.

“He’s gone.”

Junior steps out, keeping as light on his feet as possible, and breathes a thick sigh of relief. “You feeling better?” he whispers to me. 

I nod, realizing that the overwhelming
ick
I felt all day yesterday has disappeared. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His eyes trace a halo around my head and he grins.

I quickly reach up to adjust the nest in my hair, feeling a rush of blood to my face. “Ugh, I probably look
awful
.”

“You look beautiful.”

My heart flutters. I drop my hands, suddenly not caring about the possibility of severe bed head.

“I should get going. I need to meet with my sister.”

My eyes bounce to the clock. It’s just after ten on Sunday. I can barely remember the last time I slept this well or woke up so refreshed.

I open my door and stick my head out, focusing my hearing to pinpoint my dad’s location in the house.

There’s a brief shuffling of feet on the second floor somewhere beneath me. I signal for Junior to stay back as I descend the stairs, inching closer to the master bedroom below. 

My dad’s shower turns on and I breathe easier.

“Come on.” I wave up the stairs at Junior and he follows me down. 

We rush to the ground floor, my eyes constantly over my shoulder as we move. He throws the front door open and I force him outside onto the concrete stairs.

“Thanks for coming over,” I whisper, fighting to be heard over the harsh chirping of country birds. “And for the coffee. I owe you one.”

Junior closes the short gap between us and cups my cheek with one hand. He leans down to kiss me, holding me in place for longer than safety allows. A wave of warmth tingles all the way down to my toes, nearly knocking me off balance as his lips purse with mine.

He pulls away and smiles again. “Bye, Ellie.”

“Bye, Junior.”

I watch him leave. He takes off, sprinting fast down the driveway towards the large bushes on the street. I feel a twinge in my gut as he disappears from sight and my forehead breaks out into a thick sweat.

I head back to my room, moving slowly to fight the dizzy spell suddenly wreaking havoc in my head.

It pulls me towards the bathroom and that wretched nausea from yesterday comes back with a full vengeance.

Afterward, I sit on the cold linoleum floor, once again wondering what the hell it was I ate that made me so sick.

This doesn’t feel like the normal flu but it doesn’t quite feel like food poisoning either.

Maybe it’s mono or something — full sexual lock-down for at least six weeks, I’m sure Junior will just love
that
.

Maybe it’s Ebola, that sounds fun. Flesh-eating bacteria.

Or maybe I’m just preg—

I stare at the pink wall in front of me.

Oh, shit.

 

Chapter 21

Junior

 

I just slept with a girl and I liked it.

I’ve
slept
with dozens of girls but I’ve never once fallen asleep with one. It’s always been the old bang and goodbye. Maybe a passive
I’ll call you
if she’s getting too clingy. But Eliza? Not only did we sleep together, I heard she was sick and I came running without a second thought. For once, getting laid wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“You like her.”

I shake my head at Maggie across the table and chew a little more on my straw. “No — what, who?”

“Whatever
girl
you have in your head right now,” she says. “Whoever she is, she’s stealing away my sacred Sunday lunch date with my little brother.”

I set the empty cup down. “Sorry, Mag. Just a bit distracted.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she chuckles. “I expected Annoyingly Self-Confident Junior today after that win last night, not Oddly Pensive Junior. What’s her name?”

“There’s no
her.”  
I look down at the table and Maggie gasps, quickly bringing my eyes back to her stunned face. “What?”

“What’s
his
 name?” she asks, feigning worry. 

I glare at her. “It’s not
that
either.”

She deflates in disappointment. “Well, there’s
someone
out there putting you in a tizzy and I want to know who it is.” 

“I am not in a
tizzy
...” I sigh, knowing that Maggie will play this game all day unless I give her something. “Okay, maybe a
little
tizzy.”

“What happened?” 

“I slept with her.”

“So?”

“Like, literally. In bed, fully-clothed...
sleep
.”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a comforting hand on mine. “Junior...” she whispers, “was there spooning?”

“There might definitely have been some spooning.”

“Did you like it?”

I close my eyes, instantly recalling the warmth of Eliza’s body lying beside mine. “A lot.”

Maggie clears her throat, forcing the obvious cackle back down into her lungs. “I’m so proud of you.”

I shake her hand off. “Don’t do that, Mag.”

She sits back, fighting the grin. “My little brother, all grown up and entering exclusive relationships—”

“We are
not
exclusive,” I stop her. “We’re just having fun. Last night was an accident.”

“Last night?!”

I growl, realizing I’ve already revealed too much. There’s no going back now. I tossed a fierce kitten a loose thread and she won’t stop until she’s through unraveling it with her claws. “I came straight here from her place.”

“So, instead of partying with the team last night, you went over to see
her
?”

“We had plans but she got sick and canceled. I wanted to see if she was okay.”

“Did you bring soup?” she asks, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Please tell me you brought her soup.” 

“I didn’t bring her soup.” I pause. “I brought her coffee.”

“Junior...” Maggie smiles. “You like her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Junior...”
She gives her voice a hard edge. “I know
like her
when I see it and
you
like her
.” I sit back and sigh with annoyance. “It’s okay to like her. Why are you so embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed. And
no
, it’s not okay to like her. Not this one.”

She chews on that for a moment. “Have you been
having fun
with anyone else since you first
had fun
with her?”

“No,” I admit.

“Has she?”

“I hope not. I mean...” I give a passive shrug, reacting to Maggie’s twisted smirk. “I don’t know, not that I care...”

“Hate to break it to you, little brother, but you are one very specific conversation away from being in an exclusive relationship with this girl.”

“She wouldn’t go for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because... we’re not allowed to see each other.”

“Not allowed
?” she mocks. “What is she, a Capulet?”

“No. She’s a Pierce.”

“A Pier —
Pierce
?!” Her eyes blink a dozen times. “As in the new football coach,
Pierce
?”

I gesture for her to lower her voice. “As in
his daughter
, Eliza, yes. He doesn’t want anyone on the team involved with her but we kind of...
rebelled
.”

“Wait — she’s
really
pretty.”

I note her confused eyes. “This shocks you?”

“No, I’m just surprised you have actual taste.”

“Mag, I’ve been telling you about banging hot girls since I was in high school.”

“There is a
huge
difference between the hot girl and the pretty girl, little brother. The hot girl you brag about to your friends. The pretty girl you take home to meet Mom.”

I shake my head. “No one’s going home to meet Mom. Wait, how do you know she’s pretty?”

“Nate and I always go to theatre department showcases every few weeks,” she explains. “I noticed her name popping up in the programs this year and she is
very
hard not to notice up there. She’s really talented.”

“I know.”

“You’ve seen her perform?”

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