Third and Long: A Sports Romance (2 page)

“Tamber hold on,” he says. “Want to make a bet?”

“Not really, but I’ll humor you.”

“Give me two weeks. I bet I get your phone number,” he says.

“It’s Friday so—”

“So I have until two Fridays from now?”

“What makes you think you can get my number? I haven’t even told you my last name.”

“I always get what I want,” he says.

“And you want me?”

“No. I want your number, but we can always negotiate,” he says flashing me another cocky smile.

“And what do you get if you win?” I ask.

“A date?”

Enamored of his hot body and charm, I let my guard down momentarily. “Fine if you get my number, call me up.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. How about a side bet?”

I’m already kicking myself for agreeing to his first bet. However curiosity gets the better of me.

“Let’s hear it.”

“In three weeks, you’ll be asking about my cock,” he says.

I roll my eyes so hard, they almost fall out of my head.

“I was almost starting to like you Logan.”

“You already do. You just don’t know it yet,” he says.

What a cocky son of a bitch!

“Bye Logan,” I say, turning to run before he can offer up any more bets. His cock. Yeah right.

As I run across the field, I can feel his eyes on me. Apparently, I should already know who he is unless that’s simply his terrible pickup line. Granted I bury my nose in books and ignore campus drama, so maybe I’m missing the obvious here.

When I get back to the locker room, I turn to look, and he sees me. He waves at me then takes off on his own lap around the track. It occurs to me that I didn’t get his last name either. At least I’m not mad anymore.

There’s no way he gets my phone number.

CHAPTER TWO

Logan

“Logan! Logan! Logan!”

The crowd at The Library chants my name as I down two shots of Jaeger in a row. If you hadn’t guessed, we’re not in an actual library. I can’t remember the last time I set foot in a real library. This is the hottest place to be right off campus.

Half-naked hot ladies dance on the bar while equally hot chicks in school girl outfits circulate through the bar carrying trays of shots and beers. The guys are all jocks and frat bros, and every one of them brings a sorority sister along. There’s no place else in the world I’d rather be right now except the football field.

There’s always someone that picks up my tab because I’m the quarterback, and I’m going to lead us to a national championship. Rome, Texas is football country, and I’m it’s king.

Rome lies somewhere west of Houston. The town was built to serve the University of Southern Texas. This is football country. Being an SEC school, every single person that eats, sleeps and shits in Rome obsesses over the sport.

Everyone except Tamber. Somehow that weirdly sexy nerd had never heard of me. That makes her the exception that proves the rule. Meanwhile, the half-naked, 20-something waitress who gives me a kiss when she takes my shot glasses away proves my point.

Since the day I arrived on campus, our football team has not lost a game. Four years running. I’ve earned every bit of this town’s loyalty. It had been decades since the national media talked about Rome. Now they can’t shut up about us.

Tomorrow’s another big game. A classic SEC matchup against Auburn. Another chance for me to prove once again why I’m the King of Rome. Maybe I should be calling myself Caesar. Something to worry about when I write my memoir. Tonight I live it up. Coach will be pissed if he finds out, but I don’t care. I’m Logan Oliver III. This school plays by my rules.

The rest of the SEC is shit compared to me. Here’s my future: national championship, number one draft pick, then everyone’s favorite fantasy football pick. This time next year I’m going to be rolling in millions of my own making. Right now I’ll settle for free shots and the women who want to serve them to me.

Tamber was so fucking adorable looking at me like I’m Mr. Nobody when I am Mr. Rome. I own this school. She just goes here. Her ignorance is oddly appealing. It would be cool to bang a chick who didn’t already know everything about me. That’s why I want her number. Shouldn’t be too hard. I look at it as a challenge.

Girls like Tamber are a challenge, totally unlike the girls throwing themselves at me tonight.

Stepping away from the bar at the Library, I’m instantly joined by Tiffany and Kelly, two gorgeous cheerleaders that have been making eyes at me all season. They finally got the courage and the liquor in them to party with me.

“Hey Logan, nice work on those shots,” Tiffany says.

“Can we join you at your table?” Kelly asks.

“Find me a table first. Then we’ll talk,” I say.

That’s the way I work. I show up to places and people do things for me. Years of crushing other SEC teams on the football field gets you this kind of life. The life where people fall over themselves to do things for you.

Tiffany and Kelly escort me over to a table in the middle of all the action. I came out of my momma asking for the doctor to turn the spotlight on me. Party tonight, game tomorrow. Either way all the attention is on me.

Life isn’t like this for me everywhere. Back home in Houston things work a bit differently. Back there my dad runs the show. I’d be lying if I said I had a great relationship with him. He’s got a lot of big ideas for me, and none of them seem to involve football, my first and only love.

The cheerleaders take a seat on either side of me. The last time I had a steady girlfriend was my freshman year. We went at it for a while until I realized that I don’t need to be a one woman man. Why would anyone choose that life willingly? It feels like everyone in my life wants to know when I’m going to settle down. All the flavors of ice cream in the world, and they want me to choose vanilla for the rest of my life.

I’m not wired that way. I win on the field and off the field.

The waitress lines up a row of shots for the three of us. A couple of other girls flank Tiffany and Kelly, but hell if I know their names. They get shots of their own. I wouldn’t have a Friday night any other way. My teammates don’t know how I do it: party all night and play the next day. With the right motivation a guy can do anything. And I’ve got all the motivation I need on either side of me.

Tiffany and Kelly press their bodies into me, and I can feel myself getting hard.

“Oops, sorry,” Kelly says as her hand bumps into my leg. She grazes quickly across my waist and giggles. Nothing but a grin on my face. These girls have been on the squad all year, so I know they’ve heard the rumors about me. Every girl says I’m the biggest they’ve ever seen. It’s a rumor I’m more than happy to let grow. So to speak.

Even though Tiffany and Kelly are all over me, I keep thinking about that cute girl from the track. She had the most amazing ass popping in those tight running shorts. Just thinking about her gets me even harder.

I shouldn’t play with Tamber. She seems really sweet. Not in a million years would a girl like that actually go for a guy like me with a history like mine. All she has to do is ask around. Everyone will tell her that I’m a player. That I’ll break her heart. She’s a challenge. I never back down from a challenge.

Damn, why am I even thinking about that girl when I’ve got these two babes hanging all over me? My cheerleaders are tall, big-breasted blondes. Meanwhile Tamber’s short, diminutive almost. Then I remember her awkwardly cute smile and her toned runner’s legs, and my cock gets hard all over again.

“Shots, shots, shots!” some random guy yells out. I’m more than happy to oblige. Drink up and stop thinking about the girl with the cute booty and the mocha brown hair.

When I throw the shot back, Tiffany grabs my cock. If only she knew I got hard thinking about some other girl. I drop the glass and kiss her. The taste of Jaeger lingers on her lips. Then I turn around and kiss Kelly who shoves her tongue down my throat.

Everyone shouts my name.

“Logan, tell us a story,” Tiffany says clawing at my shoulder. What she really wants is time alone with me. She wants me to take her back to my place and show her my infamous body. In particular my most infamous body
part
. She’ll want me to bring Kelly too.

“What kind of story do you want?” I ask.

“A sexy story,” she says.

“I’ve got nothing but sexy stories, babe,” I say.

Some guys cheer and order me another round. I give them what they want, and they give me what I want. Terrible burden being a star.

My smart watch buzzes, letting me know that it’s well after midnight. Pre-game practice is going to be hell tomorrow. Playing with a hangover has never stopped me before, and I intend to grind Auburn into the ground. From here on out all of my games will be scouted by the pros, so you’d think I’d be at home getting rest like a good boy. A couple of ibuprofen, some Pedialite, and a few of gallons of water will have me straight by 9 a.m.

Now the confidence boost a night like this gives me? Invaluable.

Without football, Rome would be the sleepiest little backwater in the world. Before the university was built decades and decades ago, the only thing that existed to properly call “Rome” was a gas station. As they say Rome wasn’t built in a day. A tiny schoolhouse sprung up near that gas station. That turned into some lecture halls. They added dorms. After the dorms came the research facilities. The original specialty was agriculture.

Then one day football came to Rome and completely took over the town’s way of life. Rome isn’t sleepy anymore. It’s Texas’s own city that never sleeps. After the bars close, all these guys will head out to the after parties which will move right into tailgating tomorrow. Unfortunately, I’ve got to catch a few winks between now and then because following the tailgating, I’m the star of the show.

Coach always says that it’s my job to represent the university with my off-the-field behavior. When twenty other guys in the bar all take shots and shout my name, I figure I’m representing quite well. There’s another guy in my life that’s always yammering on about how I present myself. My dad. Except he’s more concerned with how I represent the family. Another responsibility that I like to ignore.

Responsibilities are easy to ignore when you’re me. If you ever got attention like this, you’d understand. Kelly takes a turn grabbing at my rock hard cock, and I think about getting out of here. May as well take these two babes home while they’re ready to play ball, or play with my balls actually. They’re all waiting for my sexy story when I turn to Tiffany.

“How about we go home and make a sexy story?” I ask.

“Oh baby, that sounds nice,” she says, sliding her tongue in my mouth and down my throat.

Kelly pouts and wants a turn of her own.

“Do you mind if we bring company?” I ask.

“Mind? We come as a package,” Tiffany says.

“Is that right?” I ask.

“Would you like to find out?” Kelly asks.

“Damn!” I scream to the rafters.

There is no one in the world I’d rather be than me right now. We get up and head to the exit. There’s no bar tab to pay and no tips to leave because no one will take them. All they want is a win tomorrow for the Southern Texas Lions. Bring more glory to Rome. Keep Rome on the map, and it’s people will keep taking care of you.

“Kill ‘em tomorrow Logan!” the bartender yells on my way out.

“You got it, bro,” I say.

The liquor hits me hard when I get to the door. Tiffany and Kelly are stumbling around grabbing onto my arm. It takes two tries to grab the handle of the door, but finally we push out onto the street.

Camera flashes. Dozens of them. A paparazzi ambush! I’m taken off guard, stumbling from the liquor and the sudden flash of lights.

“Logan Oliver! Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“How is this going to affect your play?”

“Do the other girls in your life know about these two?”

I can’t see the photographer, but I know that last question comes from the
South Texas Dirty
. Bullshit gossip magazine. They’re always giving me shit about my love life.

The media is going to have a field day with this. Logan Oliver III stumbling out of a bar at midnight on the eve of a big game with two cheerleaders on either arm.

Coach is going to kill me.

My dad is going to pop a gasket.

CHAPTER THREE

Tamber

I should be doing work on my marketing project. Instead Gwen convinced me to go to the football game. Jokes on her, there’s quite a lot of work I can get done on my phone. Not that The Party Girls will be checking their email anyway. While Gwen succeeded in pulling me away for the game, I’m sure those girls tailgated beforehand and are planning a trip to the clubs after.

The stadium is deafening. I can’t remember the last time I actually went to a game. That makes me a total black sheep in Rome given that this is an SEC school. Football is life here.