Pepped Up and Ready (Pepper Jones #3) (4 page)

Now that I know Wes is okay, or at least, he will be, my biggest concern is actually my training. I can’t miss a day of weight training because it will screw up my whole schedule. I could try to catch up on sleep after my workout but I have a shift at the Tavern.

We’ve been working on the puzzle for over an hour and barely gotten the edge pieces sorted when I decide I better call it a night. It’s nearly three in the morning. Wes walks me to my car and holds me in a hug before sending me home. I know he’s thankful I’m here for him, and that he shared a lot of intimate details about his life, but I feel like he may have held on just a little too tightly. I hope he doesn’t need more from me than I can give.

Zoe, Omar, and Rollie are remarkably unfazed that I spent most of the night at Wes’s place. I leave the explanation vague, and they don’t pry. Over the past year, my friends’ curiosity about Wesley Jamison hasn’t necessarily dwindled, but they’ve come to accept that Wes’s place in my life is a unique one that they may never understand.

As the sun rises, Rollie drops me off at the UC gym before heading home – presumably to go straight to sleep. The three of them look like they’ve been up all night. But the party hadn’t held the allure those kinds of gatherings used to hold for me. Without Jace Wilder there, I simply didn’t have the desire to rally the energy for it.

The gym has only just opened and the kid behind the check-in counter doesn’t look much more awake than my friends had. He glances at my temporary gym pass and nods groggily before returning his focus to the computer screen and Starbucks cup in front of him. UC gives access to its facilities to Brockton Public varsity athletes at certain times when it’s not as busy. At six in the morning, the weight machines are completely empty.

The peppy beat of hip hop is the only sound in the otherwise silent space. I’ve just completed the first set of my routine when I notice a guy standing in front of a wall of mirrors lifting weights. He’s tall – as tall as Jace, who is six feet three inches – and his broad shoulders and narrow hips signal he’s an athlete, and probably not a high school one. He’s wearing a baseball cap that shadows his face but I’m able to decipher enough of his features in the mirror to recognize him. Clayton Dennison.

I quickly turn away, heading to the water fountain to grab a drink before starting my next set. I doubt Clayton remembers me. He was a senior at Brockton Public when I was a freshman. In a way, he was the Jace Wilder of his class, though never quite as … well… he wasn’t Jace. And Clayton knew it.

Clayton was captain of the baseball team and he wasn’t pleased when Jace came in as a freshman and threatened his spot as starting pitcher. I was still in junior high, but I heard Jace slept with Clayton’s ex-girlfriend only a week after they broke up. Eventually, Clayton must have realized it was better to be Jace’s friend than his enemy, and he apparently got over their differences. It probably didn’t hurt that Jace announced his intent to focus on football as his primary sport, and, though he became the lead pitcher after Clayton graduated, Jace took a step back from his baseball ambitions and didn’t challenge Clayton’s spot. Which worked out for Clayton, who is – along with Ryan Harding and Jace Wilder, of course – one of Brockton’s most decorated athletes.

Settling into the leg press machine, I sigh, realizing I fall into that exclusive group as well. Brockton’s a unique place. At nearly 6,000 feet altitude at the base of the foothills and not far from the Rocky Mountains, Brockton is full of athletic people. The Olympic Training Center isn’t far away and a number of professional athletes train in Brockton. I’ve lived here my whole life, so I forget that most people don’t work out every day. That sports aren’t at the center of everyone’s world. Here in Brockton, we love our sports. And our athletes.

Local pride is a big deal, and when Clayton Dennison signed with UC at Brockton, people went crazy. Just like they did when Jace signed last year. Ryan Harding got attention too, but runners just don’t have the fan base football and baseball get. Personally, I prefer to stay under the radar as much as possible.

But I don’t always get what I want.

“Pepper Jones?” Clayton Dennison is standing in front of me. I glance his way as I push the weight on my legs forward with an un-ladylike growl. I increased the weight this morning and boy am I feeling the burn.

I slowly lower the weight to resting before replying, “Hi, Clayton.”

“I never see anyone here before seven this time of year. You’re hardcore, huh?”

I shrug. “Not any more than you are.”

We chat idly about training for a few minutes. I can feel him checking me out, sizing me up. It’s awkward. Clayton tried asking me to prom – his senior prom – when I was a freshman. Though Clayton and Jace played nice and acted like they were friends, I saw through it. They hung out with the same people, the popular crowd of course, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out Clayton had asked me to prom to piss off Jace, whom he still undoubtedly felt threatened by. As a sophomore, Jace was already stealing Clayton’s limelight, which I’m sure he was planning on basking in his senior year. Me, I was a nobody. No one had asked me out before. I stuck with my running friends and secretly crushed on Jace, who only hung out with me outside of school. I’d never thought about other guys because he was it for me.

So I’d said no when Clayton asked me to prom one day after track practice. I didn’t even make an excuse. I knew he was using me to get under Jace’s skin – even then, everyone knew we were close childhood friends – and I wasn’t happy about it.

I still remember Clayton’s shocked expression when I turned him down. I turned right around and walked away, but it didn’t feel powerful. I was angry and hurt. I never told anyone he asked me, not even Zoe or Gran, and he must have kept the information to himself too. Otherwise, the gossip would have been unbearable. For both of us.

He’s being perfectly polite now, though, and that all happened a long time ago. High school is a thing of the past for Clayton.

“So, you and Jace, huh?” he asks. Clayton lifts the brim of his hat and pushes some hair to the side before settling the hat back on his head.

“Oh, yeah. We’re together.” I’m not sure what exactly he’s getting at. Could this be any more awkward?

“Yeah, I ran into Wilder yesterday. It’s practically the only thing he wanted to talk to me about, not that I didn’t already know. Wilder’s dating status is a hot topic with the ladies.” Clayton raises his eyebrows knowingly and I roll my eyes in response, pretending his comment doesn’t bother me. Which it shouldn’t, because it comes as no surprise. “You better watch your back when you come on campus, Ms. Jones.” His eyes are smiling at me, but if he knew my history with Jace’s female fan club, or one fan in particular, he would realize this is no joking matter.

“I can handle myself,” I say, in what I hope is an equally light-hearted tone.

“Well, if you need backup, let me know.”

I can’t help but frown at him.

“You know,” he adds, presumably in response to my confused expression, “the baseball and football teams hang in the same places with the same people. I’m sure we’ll be running into each other more.” He winks before wandering back to the other side of the room.

The conversation leaves me unsettled for the rest of my workout, despite Clayton’s casual demeanor and the easy smile and wave he sends my way when I leave. I don’t have a car so I’m preparing to jog the mile and a half home when I turn the corner and nearly run into another familiar Brockton athlete. Ryan Harding is just as startled to see me and I get the impression he was deep in thought.

After my encounter with Clayton, it’s a comfort to see Ryan but I’m not sure the feeling is reciprocated. It’s unusual to see this distressed expression on Ryan’s s

“Oh, hey Pepper.” Like me, he’s dressed to work out.

“What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s good. Just getting some weights in before meeting up with the team.”

“I thought the cross team did all their workouts together? I saw you all in here the other day lifting.”

“Oh yeah, we do. I just…” he drifts off, “wanted to burn some energy, you know?”

“Yeah, okay.” Something’s definitely up with him, because Ryan Harding never deviates from the training plan. He is constantly telling me how important it is not to over-train, and here he is getting in an extra workout before team practice? It’s preseason, so they’re already training more than they will once classes start.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Ryan shifts on his feet and opens his mouth to say something when a loud rowdy group floods out from the athletes’ cafeteria across the street and heads in our direction. Another team here for preseason, and, judging by the size of some of them, I’m guessing it’s the football team. The field house is just behind the gym and Jace told me they had seven AM practice there.

“Anyway, Pep, I’ll check in with you later, cool?” He’s already walking away before I can respond. The door to the gym swings open and Ryan nods to Clayton, who is leaving.

Clayton heads my way. “Oh good, you’re still here. I was going to see if you needed a ride. Or, you know, I could get you into the cafeteria if you wanted some breakfast.”

Okay, now I’m really confused. We aren’t friends. We never were. He knows I’m with Jace. He can’t seriously still be trying to piss Jace off. Is he that hung up on the competition from his high school glory days? I mean, he’s in college now, and is living a whole new level of glory … ohhhh. It dawns on me. History is repeating itself for Clayton Dennison.

The whole town, and maybe even the entire state, is hyped up for Jace to join the UC football team. Not to mention…
Wilder’s dating status is a hot topic with the ladies.
Yup, Clayton is surely aware that Jace Wilder is once again threatening his status as the hottest athlete on campus.

“Dennison.” The familiar voice approaching us is dark and dangerous and there is no doubt Jace Wilder knows exactly what Clayton is up to.

Jace places a possessive hand on my hip and he’s standing so close behind me, I can feel his chest rising and falling. I don’t need to look to know his teammates have paused en route to the field house. Not only has the rowdy group grown quiet, but their presence is heavy and unmistakable. Ryan’s in the gym now, thankfully. I might feel comforted and safe in Jace’s arms, but I also feel ridiculous. All I wanted was a quiet workout and instead I’ve caused a scene. A showdown between two high school frenemies. I want to melt into the sidewalk. Anything to escape this embarrassment.

“Jace,” I say quietly, trying to convey in my tone that now is not the time or place to hash this out.

Clayton is smiling at him, acting like this is such a lovely coincidence, when we all know it’s not. Clayton saw the team coming and he timed his exit from the gym perfectly.

“You guys must have practice,” Clayton says, nodding toward the giants looming behind me. “I can make sure your girl here gets home safely, man.”

Feeling Jace’s hold tighten, I say quickly, “No thanks, I need to jog home anyway as my cool-down.” It takes a bit of effort in Jace’s stiff grip, but I’m able to turn enough to face my boyfriend, whose green eyes flash dangerously at Clayton. Yikes. I had no idea of the tension between these two.

With an air of nonchalance I kiss Jace lightly on the cheek, whisper quietly enough that hopefully Clayton, but not the entire football team, hears, “I love you.” And wave as I jog away, calling, “See you after my shift!” which we hadn’t discussed, and I don’t know if he’s free, but figure I need to break the icy cold air hovering in my wake somehow.

I practically sprint home. Clayton Dennison is the last thing we need right now.

Apparently my boyfriend not only attracts jealous girls – whom I’ve already learned to deal with – he attracts jealous boys too.

My shift at the Tavern is from eleven to four and I’d love to take a nap beforehand but instead, I pause outside my apartment building briefly before continuing to jog along the sidewalk toward the bike path. Despite my exhaustion, there’s little chance I’ll fall asleep, and I want to get my daily run in before my shift so I can see Jace afterward. The jog back from the gym wasn’t long enough.

By the time 4:00 rolls around, I’m dead on my feet. The shift was a blur. Gran picks me up and shakes her head at my pathetic state before handing me my cell phone, which I accidentally left at home. The mailbox is full. Missed calls from Zoe, Jace, Wes, Ryan, Rollie, and, surprisingly, Kayla Chambers. Kayla was the most popular girl at Brockton Public last year – the lead Barbie, as Zoe would say – and she ended up having my back. I wouldn’t say we’re exactly close though, and I certainly didn’t expect to be hearing from her once the summer was over. Along with Lisa Delany – Ryan’s girlfriend – she will be a freshman at UC this year too. The third girl in their group, Andrea Hill, headed to college out of state.

My friends rarely leave voicemails, but they all have something to tell me today, apparently. I skip through to Jace’s message first, planning to listen to the others after, but when I hear his voice asking me to come over after my shift, I forget all about the others and ask Gran to head to the dorms.

I text Jace I’ll be there in a minute and he’s waiting outside when Gran pulls up. He kisses her on the cheek through the window, and promises to stay out of trouble, giving her his most mischievous grin.

Jace races me up the stairs and into his room without saying hello to his roommates, then shuts the door.

“Damn, it’s been the longest fucking twenty-four hours, Pepper.” And with that, his mouth is on mine in a frenzied kiss that leaves me breathless. And I’m a long-distance runner, so that’s saying something.

Jace tends to take things slowly and cautiously with me. He knows he’s got way more experience than me and even after months as his girlfriend, that remains true. His patience puzzled and frustrated me for a while, but I understand it now. It’s right between us not to rush or hurry this part of our relationship. If we did, it would consume me completely, I have no doubt about it.

But right now, in this moment, I am surrendering to him because I sense he needs me to, and it feels good. Really good. He’s holding me tight, showing me I’m his and I shouldn’t ever doubt it. His love for me is in his kiss, and I try to give him all of mine right back.

We’re panting when he finally slows his kisses to a brush of my lips, my forehead, and then he slumps on his desk chair, bringing me down with him.

“So, how was your day?” I ask him, giggling.

“Well, it didn’t get off to the greatest start,” he responds, but it’s not with anger. He was heated at the time, and he now appears resigned to dealing with guys like Clayton Dennison. They will probably always be in his life.

“Tell me about practice, your teammates, your other roommates. I want to know everything.”

And he does. He delves into the world of Jace Wilder, and I learn the names of his coaches, some weird quirks of his teammates, and, most importantly, that there is a twenty-four-hour ice cream bar at the athletes’ cafeteria. “Frankie ate three bowls of mint chocolate chip for breakfast. It was disgusting.”

“What else?” I love this, listening to Jace talk. When he lived down the street, I knew so much about his daily life already, he never needed to share like this. But listening to him re-tell it is more enjoyable than I imagined, and I’m beginning to look forward to establishing a routine like this every day.

“My mom came to our afternoon practice,” Jace tells me.

I sit up, surprised. “Annie?” Like he has another mom.

“Yeah, it was funny. She was just sitting in the stands when I glanced that way at one point. You know, there are always a bunch of people watching our practices, so it wasn’t like she was the only one. I think she feels like she missed out, you know? On going to my practices growing up and stuff. So she’s trying to make up for it.”

I can tell Jace is touched by this. Really touched. His face softens, and he looks young and vulnerable. Not many people see this side of Jace Wilder. Annie left when Jace was a toddler and she returned last year, sober for the first time in years and seeking to rebuild a relationship with her son. I was distrustful and disdainful of her, but I’ve started to realize she might be for real. Part of me still fears she will hurt Jace again, and it will be even worse than before she came back, because he has renewed hope. He turns into this little boy when he talks about her. And I know he wants me to like her.

“Yeah, I mean it was a little embarrassing. Most of the people in the stands are media, coaches, football people.”

“Don’t forget the fan girls,” I remind him, knowing that if they existed in high school, they certainly exist in college.

“Yeah.” Jace shrugs. “And then my mom is there, smiling and waving at me.” He doesn’t have to tell me that any embarrassment he felt was washed away by the joy at having her there, for no other reason than to watch him. To show her support.

“So how was your night last night? You end up going out with your friends?” He switches the subject, unwilling to delve any farther into his relationship with Annie.

I shift in his lap, focusing on running my hands through his hair. I have to tell him about Wes and I don’t want to.

“Parties are boring without you there.” I’m stalling, letting my fingers graze down his back until they rest at his waistband.

Jace raises his lips in a smile, pleased I missed him, but wondering if I’ll elaborate. If he should be worried for any reason. Always ready to worry about me.

“I talked to Wes last night,” I finally say.

Jace sits up straighter, sensing that I have something important to tell him. “Yeah?”

“He’s not going to Princeton. At least not this year,” I amend when Jace’s arms tighten around me. He worries about Wes too.

“What? Why?”

I tell him as best I can about Wes’s rant last night, and I can feel Jace growing restless. He stands up, placing me on his desk, and paces around his tiny dorm room. His hands go to his hair and he pulls at it, the ultimate sign that my news is stressing him out. Majorly. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe surprise, confusion, and then happiness that Wes would still be around instead of on the other side of the country. But there’s a lot more going on here. Jace is wired, and I’m not sure why he’s reacting so dramatically. He’s usually all action, but I can tell he doesn’t know what to do right now. His emotions are overwhelming him.

There’s a bang at the door.

“Yo! Wilder!” Frankie’s voice booms from the other side.

Jace opens the door and though his back is to me, based on Frankie’s reaction, I imagine Jace looks fairly worked up.

“Uh, hi Pepper,” Frankie waves, his voice as big and booming as his huge frame. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the enormity of this guy. “We gotta grab dinner before our individual meetings with coaches. You’re up first so…”

Jace sighs and rubs his hands over his head again. He’s got two or three workouts a day plus all kinds of various meetings. It’s not going to be easy spending time together. Once classes start, it will only get worse.

“But that means you’ll be done first, too,” Frankie points out with a grin and a wink in my direction.

“Thanks, man, now give me a fucking minute, will you?” he says good-naturedly, letting Frankie know the tension in the room is not directed at him. He pushes Frankie, who has eased his way in the room, back out into the common area and shuts the door. We can hear Frankie’s booming laughter from the other side.

“I want you to stay here and wait for me, but that’d be shitty of me to ask.” Jace sits on the edge of the bed, looking at me intently. I’m not sure why he can’t ask me that.

He must read the question in my expression because he says, “I’d feel like an asshole having you sit in this lame room for two hours bored out of your mind until I come back. I’ll drive you home.”

I’m disappointed. I thought Frankie just said he’d be done early.

“I should see Wes after my meeting,” Jace explains as he leans over to grab his keys from his dresser. It’s like he can read my mind. “We need to talk. Can I come over to your place after?”

“Sure,” I say without hesitation. It will be late by then, but I’m unwilling to miss out on seeing him again.

My body is aching for rest, and after a quick shower and dinner of chicken noodle casserole with Gran, I crash hard. I only slept a couple of hours last night and my body greedily soaks up the shut-eye opportunity. Gran tells me in the morning that Jace stopped by around ten but they didn’t want to wake me.

“The boy took off with our noodle casserole leftovers,” Gran pretend-complains. I have little doubt she shoved it in his arms, worried that the college cafeteria food isn’t up to her home-cooked standards, which I’m sure it isn’t.

My quads are sore from lifting yesterday, not to mention my abs, back, arms… well, my whole body is sore. But I lace up anyway, confident that a run with Dave will get the blood flowing and loosen me up. Jace told me I’d eventually stop being sore after every weight lifting session, once I got stronger. But I keep ramping up the weights. What’s the point in lifting if it doesn’t push you past your limits?

After a good night’s sleep, I feel a huge sense of relief settle in me as Dave and I hit the familiar dirt trail winding along the creek and into the woods. Jace was practically desperate to see me yesterday. I don’t know what I was expecting. It’s not like I really thought he’d suddenly lose interest in me after one day of college. But if I’m really honest with myself, that was a fear. That college life would consume him so thoroughly there simply wouldn’t be room for me anymore.

When I get back from my morning run, I find the dining room table has been pushed against the wall, Gran is on all fours splayed out across a Twister mat, Zoe is leaning forward in an awkward split beneath her, and Kayla Chambers has the spinner in her hand calling out, “Left hand, yellow.”

“Sugar boogers!” Gran huffs out as she twists onto her back in an effort to reach for the yellow circle.

“Oh, hey Pep!” Zoe calls out from underneath Gran’s armpit.

“Ummm …” I study them. “Hi?”

Kayla grins, clearly enjoying her role as the spinner. When she calls out, “Right foot blue,” Gran and Zoe end up in a tangled heap, giggling like five year olds.

“This is my life,” I tell Kayla, my hands up in resignation.

Kayla smiles and puts down the spinner. “I never knew Twister could be so entertaining. I may have to propose a Twister party to the Theta Kapp girls.” She puckers her lips thoughtfully and I wonder if she’s serious.

“Theta Kapp?” Zoe asks, rising from the ground and giving Gran a hand to help her up.

“Yeah, Theta Kappa Zeta is the sorority I’m pledging with. We just moved into the dorms two days ago. Same day as the athletes for preseason. But Heather, you know, my sister?” Zoe and I nod, but Kayla already knows we know Heather Chambers. Like Kayla, she was the most popular girl in her grade at Brockton Public. She’s a junior at UC now. “She told me everything to expect and unless I do something totally wacky, I’ll be a Theta Kapp sister in a few months.”

UC has a pretty major Greek system, but I’m essentially clueless when it comes to that stuff. As far as I know, the women’s cross team isn’t part of a sorority, so it’s really not on my radar.

Gran stretches her back and walks by me toward the front door, patting my cheek as she passes. “I’m off to Silver Sneakers with Lulu, ladies,” she tells us, lacing up her purple Nikes, which match her purple velour sweat suit. Lulu is Gran’s BFF and I’m thankful they have each other to look out for one another. “Nice to meet you, Kayla,” Gran calls with a wave, already out the door on the way to the local recreation center for her fitness class.

“She’s a busy woman,” I comment with a shake of my head. I turn to Kayla, wondering when she’ll explain her reason for being at my apartment. I didn’t even know she knew where I lived. Well, I guess she knows I live on Jace’s street, but still.

“How’s Jace doing?” she asks instead. “I haven’t really seen anyone on the football team yet because they’re always practicing.”

She sounds genuine, but I study her for an ulterior motive. It’s unlikely she came all the way over here to check up on Jace.

“He’s good, and yeah, they’ve pretty much had nonstop workouts and meetings since he got there.” I open the fridge and pull out a jug of iced tea, raising it in question to Zoe and Kayla, who shake their heads.

“Well then, where have you been?” Zoe asks. “You never called me back yesterday.”

Oops. Totally forgot about all those voicemails. And Kayla called yesterday too. My heart rate starts to pick up as it dawns on me that there might be something super important people have been trying to tell me. I need more than a couple hours of sleep if I’m supposed to have the energy to keep up with the world.

“Sorry, I had a lunch shift at the Tavern and then I stopped by to see Jace and then I fell asleep at, like, seven o’clock,” I explain. “Give a girl a break, will you?” I taunt Zoe, who can be fairly dramatic when she’s in the mood but never takes things too seriously.