Next Man Up (Making the Score #2) - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,15
when they invited me to go with them to meet up with their friend Nate, particularly after I’d teased Quinn about whether or not this friend was off-limits to me. I wouldn’t have been shocked if the two girls had wanted a little time by themselves to whisper about Quinn’s new nympho roommate. But whether they were simply being polite by including me or honestly wanted me to come along, I’d decided to go with them, simply to get out of the dorm and have something to do.
Quinn had given me a head’s up about her friend Nate. I could sense how protective of him she was, and within a few minutes of being introduced, I could see why. There was an air of delicacy about him—not that he came across as wimpy or weak, but there were shadows under his eyes and a difference in the way he held himself as he sat on the bench outside our dormitory. I couldn’t miss, either, how his gaze followed Quinn. He was crazy in love with her—there wasn’t any doubt about that. I felt sorry for the dude, because I already knew she was gaga for their friend who was a football player down at Carolina.
But all my sympathetic vibes flew out the window as Nate told us about his roommate. I’d understood from what Quinn had said earlier that Nate was living in an accessible dormitory that was specifically set up for those students who had particular physical needs. So, like Quinn, I was more than a little surprised when I heard him say he was living with a football player.
“He’s paralyzed, and he’s in a wheelchair,” Nate elaborated when Quinn asked. “I guess it’s more accurate to say he used to be a football player. He played for Franklin Township, actually. He would’ve been a year ahead of us. As I understand it, he took a bad hit on the field during a game when he was a senior. Like . . . a seriously bad, life-threatening hit.”
“Oh, God.” Gia’s eyes went wide. “I think I remember that. It was early in the season, before they played against us. I heard it was horrible. People on the sidelines could hear . . .” Her voice trailed off as she caught the expression on Quinn’s face. “Anyway.”
“What’s his name?” Quinn asked Nate. “I never missed a game—until senior year, that is. I’m sure I heard of him.”
“Eli. Eli Tucker, but he said everyone calls him Tuck.”
The world tilted slightly, and my ears began to ring, making it difficult to hear what the others were saying. I gripped the back of the bench, the flaking paint digging into my skin. Without realizing it, I sucked in a sharp breath.
What were the chances? Apparently, pretty fucking good, because there was no way this couldn’t be my Eli. I coughed a little, choking down a laugh of derision at the fact that I still thought of him that way. He’d never been my Eli, not even on the night when I’d let him have my virginity. He’d always been a manipulative bastard. And I’d been the stupid girl who’d looked at him with blinding stars in my eyes.
Quinn glanced at me with curiosity. Clearly, I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding my surprise. Clearing my throat, I worked to keep my voice even and indifferent.
“Eli Tucker? From Franklin Township? Huh. I think I might’ve met him once.” Shrugging, I added, “It happened a long time ago. I doubt he’d remember me.”
Quinn snorted. “I don’t know, Zelda. We just met, but I’m pretty sure I’d consider you unforgettable.”
I smiled, and for the first time that day, the expression was genuine. “I’m not sure you meant that to be a compliment, doll, but I’m going to take it as one anyway.” Rubbing my stomach, I changed the subject quickly. “Are we going to eat or what? I’m starving.”
“Sure.” Quinn motioned in the general direction of the student life building. “Let’s go.” She waited until I came around the bench to join her on the path before she began walking. “Listen . . . you should know that when Nate transitions from sitting to standing, it can be . . . awkward. Don’t look back now,” she hastened to add. “I always try to give him some space and some privacy.”
“Good to know.”
Gia came up on the other side of me, and after a few moments of us strolling at a snail’s pace, Nate joined