Page 73 of Bump and Run

Seventeen

Junior

“Pack it in, guys!”Coach shouts. “We’re done.”

I pick myself up off the grass. That last tackle knocked the wind out of me. Not quite as much as Eliza promising me her ass this weekend, but still enough to make me feel a little lightheaded.

“Hey, Junior!”

I spit out my mouth guard and pull my helmet off. “Yeah, Coach?”

He nods as I pass by him towards the locker rooms. “Excellent hustle out there today. Whatever action you’re getting at night, keep it up.”

I grin. “Oh, I will.”

He waves me off and I instantly feel someone bump my shoulder. It’s Ty, of course, casting me a vicious side-eye through his face guard but his lips still twitch with amusement. He hasn’t said a word to anybody about me and Eliza, despite his protests to the relationship entirely.

Relationship.I can’t really use that word, can I?

I mean, I suppose we have relations, but that’s not really the same thing. There’s no acceptable label for what Eliza and I are — at least, not one I’d openly admit to my mother or anything.

I shower off the sweat and dirt, listening to the echoing banter of my teammates in the crowded locker room.

Every time I feel this water on my skin, my brain instantly goes back to that day she walked in here. I don’t even remember what I was thinking about at the time, but I sure as hell remember the bolt of lightning that shot through my toes the second I heard her voice. I could barely move or think or breathe. All I could do was listen to her boots tapping on the floor, inching closer to me. That’s all it took for me to grow rock hard. Then I had her pinned against the lockers and all I could think about was—

“Junior — you coming?”

I snap out of it and see John staring at me from the next stall over. “What?”

“To the party,” he says, running a hand through his shaggy, brown hair. “One last blowout before two days of clean eats and protein shakes in prep for the game.”

“Oh…” I twist the shower off and wipe the water from my eyes. “No, sorry. I gotta study tonight.”

“Study?”

I wrap my towel around my waist. “I have a test tomorrow morning.”

He laughs at me and follows me across the room towards the lockers. “You don’t gotta study, man. You play football.”

“I need to ace this one to…” I notice the coach lingering outside of the back office. He pauses, just barely glancing over at us but I can tell he’s listening in. “To keep my grade up.”

“And to please that little tutor of yours, too, I bet…”

I blink. “What?”

“Oh, come on…” He nudges my ribs. “Why else would you have gone all academic this semester? There’s a sexy tutor, right?”

I hesitate. “I have a tutor, yeah, but she’s not—”

“Is she hot?” he interrupts, raising his brow. “She must be putting out if she’s got you hitting the books so much.”

I pause, forcing the reply back down my throat.

Before, I would have spilled every bean I had about whatever girl I was hooking up with: what she sounded like, how tight she was, where every little birthmark or freckle was on her body. But now? I don’t even want to mention it’s even happening — like it’s none of their business at all. That’s between me and Eliza and it should stay that way.

“She’s a tutor,” I say instead.

“That’s a yes,” he grins. “You should give me her number. I got a D that sure could use a little extra attention.”

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