The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,67
explain yourself.” And really, she doesn’t. “You’ve told me why you are the way you are, and I understand. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is anyone else.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose and hope that my words are reassuring enough.
We haven’t talked about the fact that I’m basically living someone else’s dream since I confessed the truth. Blair knows the real me, sees through the mask I wear daily. Part of me wonders if she would ever push me to do what I want, to quit football.
Helping to push her out of her comfort zone was the best decision I ever made. I could never be as courageous as her though. I’m a fraud, forced to live a lie. Football is all I have, and my father would murder me if I even showed an ounce of interest in something else.
And while I don’t let the prick dictate my life, I do value living.
Nodding her head, everything falls back into place, and I shove my thoughts away, focusing on the present instead of an unattainable dream.
Together we choose something to watch and are just getting into the first episode when the doorbell rings.
“Pizza!” I exclaim and disconnect from Blair.
She rolls her eyes as I rush toward the door, pulling out my wallet in the process. Opening the door, I find the pizza delivery guy standing there with our two pizzas. He doesn’t smile and almost seems annoyed as we exchange money and pizzas.
“Thanks,” I tell him and slam the door closed.
Walking into the kitchen, I set the two pizzas down and get out the plates. Blair gets up and walks into the kitchen, her feet barely make any noise against the tile. When I look up from dishing out the pizza, I find her standing close by looking down at her phone.
She frowns before slipping the device back into her pocket.
“What’s up?” I ask before shoving a piece of greasy goodness into my mouth.
Blair chews on her bottom lip in contemplation. “Nothing. Just my brother. He wants to come and visit. Apparently, my mom got back with an ex, and there is tension.”
She’s shared so much with me, and I know if I want this to work out, for us to grow closer, I’ll have to tell her about my mom, but I’m just not ready yet.
“He can come hang out with us for a weekend if you want?” I offer, and that makes her smile. Holy hell, I love when she smiles at me.
“You would be okay with that? Him coming here and hanging out with us?”
I nod. “Of course, it would give me a chance to get to know him and to introduce myself as your boyfriend.”
“I should’ve known it had nothing to do with being sweet and everything to do with giving your ego a boost.” She playfully slaps me, and I shove another piece of pizza past my lips before walking to the fridge for a bottle of water.
“You know how it is, sweetheart. You’re either stroking my ego, or my…”
“Do not finish that sentence or so help me god.” Blair narrows her eyes, but I can see the flicks of mischief in her eyes.
“Heart.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”
“You’re the worst.” She snickers.
“Maybe, but you definitely don’t think that when I’m between your legs.”
“Oh, god. Seriously, shut up.” Her cheeks turn crimson, and she walks back to the couch with her plate.
“That’s exactly what you say, oh god… yes… more please…”
“Cage!” she growls, and I let out a laugh.
I grab my own plate and head to the couch. I’m almost in the living room when there is a pounding on the front door. It’s urgent and insistent, and I have no fucking clue who it could be. The sound echoes through the space, and I glance over at Blair.
Worry riddles her features. The knocking continues, and I set my plate down and walk over to the door. Looking through the peephole, I’m shocked to find my father on the other side of the door. An angry scowl on his face. He raises his hand once more to knock, and I unlock the door, pulling it open.
The blood in my veins turns to lava.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I growl.
“This is my fucking house, isn’t it?” he snarls and takes a step to move inside.
He smells like a damn distillery, and as I glance over my shoulder at Blair, a