The Hardest Fall by Ella Maise

Chapter Seven

Dylan

It was only a few days into my move when I started to get back into my routine—or more like a new routine. We had a home game in two days and I was more than ready to play. I was doing my third set of push-ups when I looked up and saw Zoe rubbing her eyes as she walked straight into a wall, missing the bathroom door by ten inches or so.

“Fuck!” she hissed out in a low voice, this time rubbing her shoulder.

I dropped my head and tried to keep in my laughter. When I looked back up, I saw her looking over her shoulder toward my room right before she hurried into the bathroom and gently closed the door.

Two hundred twenty-three.

Two hundred twenty-four.

Two hundred twenty-five.

I heard the door click open then careful footsteps followed. When there was a loud gasp, I lifted my head, my gaze slowly making its way up her long smooth legs. Her hand was clutched over her chest and she was doing that deer in the headlights thing again. I smiled.

“Good morning, Zoe.”

Letting go of her chest, she pulled at the hem of her t-shirt and took a few side steps toward the kitchen. Her eyes though—they stayed put on my body.

“Hello to you too. You scared the shit out of me.”

I ducked my head and chuckled quietly. “I can see that.”

“Uh, what’s going on here?” she asked in a rough voice still laced with sleep.

“Getting in my push-ups.”

A few more steps to the right and she reached the island. Keeping her gaze on me, she held on to the edge of the counter as if it was helping her stay upright, skipped the two bar stools, and walked around until she stood over the sink.

“Isn’t it a little early to do push-ups?”

Two hundred thirty-six.

“I always wake up at six AM and get them done.”

“So, this is an everyday occurrence?”

“Yeah.” I dropped my head down and ignored the slight tremor in my arm muscles.

“Weekends too?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, okay. That’s…good to know.” Zoe reached for the glass sitting next to the sink—eyes still on me—opened the fridge, took out a water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and poured it into the glass. After a second of hesitation, she grabbed it and took a few gulps.

I looked back down to hide my smile and kept counting.

Two hundred forty-five.

Two hundred forty-six.

Two hundred forty-seven.

“Uh, and good morning…buddy.”

“Sorry?” I grunted and looked up.

“You said good morning and I didn’t say it back. I’m not really awake yet…might also be dreaming, can’t be sure completely about that. Just in case I’m not in a dream and you’re really there doing push-ups…good morning to you, too, buddy.”

“You’re really getting into this buddy thing, huh?”

She lifted a small shoulder, causing her very oversized t-shirt to slip and give me a view of the smooth skin so innocently hiding underneath the fabric.

“I’m liking the idea more and more.”

Keep counting, Dylan. Keep going.

Two hundred sixty-one.

Two hundred sixty-two.

Two hundred sixty-three.

When I reached three hundred, I grunted and jumped up. Grabbing the towel I’d left on the couch, I wiped my face. “What are you doing up this early anyway? I haven’t seen you around in the mornings these last few days. I only see you in the evenings.” Not that she was around all that much. Whenever I came in, she found somewhere to disappear to.

She was still standing behind the sink, holding the glass in both hands as she took small sips and kept her eyes on me.

“Because I’m a normal person? You know, one who doesn’t get up at an ungodly hour? Today I’m meeting with a girl who’s paying me to take a few shots of her for her fashion blog. She wanted the streets to be empty, and according to her, her skin looks best with the early sunrise. No sane person would get up this early in the morning, but…work.”

“Yeah? A fashion shoot, huh? Sounds fun.”

“As I can see with my own eyes, you’re not a sane person either, so…your idea of fun might be a little skewed.”

Tossing the towel back over the couch, I dropped my ass on the floor and started on my sit-ups.

“Okay, what’s happening now?”

“Sit-ups.”

I heard a little groan, but instead of glancing at her, I kept my eyes forward and kept going. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her moving around, and even if I hadn’t been able to, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing and flatware rattling reached me just fine.

Forty-one.

Forty-two.

Forty-three.

Forty-four.

When there was a long stretch of silence, I spoke up without breaking my focus.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“What’s up?” she returned back.

I could feel her eyes sweeping over my skin like the gentle touch of a feather. My dick stirred in my sweatpants. “You’re staring.”

“How do you know I’m staring? You’re not even looking at me.”

“I can feel your eyes on me,” I grunted.

“You can feel my eyes—of course you can. Well, I’m not staring because there is something to stare at, I’m only looking toward you because…you’re in the way of my view at the moment and I don’t know where else to look.”

Curious, I turned to see what she was doing. I tried to maintain my pace and keep counting in my head at the same time, but she was making it hard. She was standing in the exact same spot, only difference was this time she had a blue bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. The dish was full of what I could only assume was the cereal that was heading toward her pink lips. I tried to meet her eyes, but her gaze seemed glued somewhere else—namely, my torso. So I was the breakfast entertainment. For some reason I couldn’t quite articulate, I didn’t mind her gaze on me, and trust me, if it had been anyone but her, I would’ve minded. Being gawked at usually broke my concentration, thus pissing me off, but I’d never had a set of eyes moving over my body feel like fucking feathers, of all things. My body heated, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t because of my workout.

“You’re having breakfast and still staring,” I grumbled, sweat starting to pour off my forehead already as each rep got a bit harder and my dick did the same.

Her spoon paused midair, and then she was chewing again. “I think so. Yes.” There was a loud clink when her spoon hit her bowl and she winced, but two seconds later the chewing started back up. “They always say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I think I’m becoming a believer.”

One hundred.

Finishing my first set, I lay flat on the ground and shook my arms to relax my muscles as I slowly caught my breath.

“So do you always do this…half naked?”

I smiled up at the ceiling. “If it’s bothering you, I can do it in my room from now on. I only came out here because I didn’t think you’d be awake yet.”

“Nope, it’s fine. Just wanted to check.”

There was a two-second pause before she spoke up again.

“Always at the same time?”

“Are you gonna come out every morning and keep me company?”

Taking a deep breath, I started on the second set.

A hundred and one.

A hundred and two.

A hundred and three.

“Nope.”

“You sure? You thought about it for a second there.”

“Yup. Nope.”

A hundred and ten.

A hundred and eleven.

Feeling that addictive good burn in my stomach, I pushed through my second set in no time.

I heard loud coughing so I glanced her way. “More?” Zoe asked in a squeaky tone when I went for the next hundred sit-ups.

“Yeah,” I puffed out. I miraculously managed to finish my last set with only a few glances thrown my curious observer’s way. At least my dick was behaving. A few times when I looked, she quickly averted her eyes and became increasingly engrossed in her cereal bowl or the sink. Standing up, I wiped off my forehead, chest, and stomach. Throwing the small towel over my shoulder, I moved toward my intriguing roommate. Her eyes followed my every step.

Stopping when only two steps separated us, I leaned against the marble counter. “Hi. How is your morning going so far?”

She made a few vague noises then cleared her throat after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. “Just like any other morning, really. Nothing special is happening. Yours?”

It was hard holding back my grin, so I chose not to. “I’m really enjoying it so far. Thanks for keeping me company.” It looked like she was still having trouble holding my gaze when we were standing close to each other. Oh, she tried, I’ll give her that, but it only lasted a couple seconds before she shifted her focus to my ear. I’d noticed the chosen spot could also be my mouth if I was smiling or talking.

“You want cereal?” She stirred her spoon in what must have been very soggy cereal by that point then sipped a little milk from the edge of it.

“Nope.”

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“Cereal?”

I laughed. “I’ll grab something with the boys.”

“Water, then?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.”

She shuffled back and reached up to grab a new glass from one of the cupboards to my left, and I had to grip the edge of the counter in a white-knuckle hold when my attention dropped low.

Eyes up, Dylan. Don’t look at her ass, man.

I only saw a flash of light blue against her pale skin before she dropped back down on her heels and filled my glass with water before handing it to me.

“Thank you, Zoe.”

There was that pink flush to her cheeks again.

I looked down and focused on her bare feet. She had painted her toenails a light purple, and it looked adorable on her. Then, she curled her toes and hid her right foot behind her left. Something about it made me smile.

I’d met shy girls before, but none of them had the effect Zoe was having on me. I’d met girls that almost made me feel shy, too—not too often, maybe once in a blue moon, but it had happened. Some jersey chasers could be a little more forward than you’d expect them to be, and you already expected them to be forward, hence their name. I’d learned that my freshman year while I was still trying to find my way around a new school and a new team.

Not including my freshman year, I didn’t sleep around. After that first year, I realized it wasn’t my thing. Compared to some of my teammates, I was an angel, but I did date from time to time. Finding that elusive connection was even harder than you’d expect it to be.

This weird thing I had going on with Zoe was new to me. I’d had girls I’d been strictly friends with, and I’d had girlfriends I’d had nothing but a healthy sexual attraction in common with. Yet, there I was, standing in a kitchen, staring at a girl’s feet and finding it extremely adorable that she was shy enough to try to hide them from my view. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on between us or if there was anything going on at all, but I had a feeling it was going to take some time to find our footing.

Zoe was shy, that was a fact, but then all of a sudden she’d change the play on me. She’d say something unexpected—like owning up to the fact that she was staring at me—and it would throw me off big time, and this was coming from a guy whose job was to anticipate what the play was and adjust accordingly so he could run for the win. I was damn good at reading a player’s next move, but with the way Zoe was playing, I had a hard time guessing where the ball would come rushing toward me from.

It looked like she had a whole different side of her hiding underneath that first layer. Maybe that was what was drawing me to her—the possibilities of Zoe. I wasn’t a dumbass; I knew I was attracted to her—my dick had been happy to see her more than a few times that week—but it wasn’t just the fact that she was beautiful that had moving me in that direction. I was being serious when I told her I had a feeling she was gonna be my best friend.

“Where do you wanna live after you graduate? Stay here?” I asked out of the blue, surprising the hell out of myself in the process.

She held my gaze for another two seconds—which seemed to be her max unless she was getting into a staring contest with me—then looked back into her bowl and kept squishing the cereal into the milk. Anywhere but my eyes worked, I supposed.

Why did she have so much trouble meeting my eyes when were standing close to each other when she’d had no trouble checking out my abs and occasionally my arms and shoulders just minutes before?

“New York. You?”

“I’ll know after the draft is over.”

“Makes sense.” She nodded and flashed me a small, shy smile. “I admire your confidence—you’re sure you’ll be picked. Any idea where you’ll end up?”

I shrugged. “If I don’t believe in myself, why would anybody else? I might not end up being a first-round pick, but that’s fine. I’ll just work harder to show everyone what a mistake they made by skipping me.” Her smile grew bigger, and I frowned at her lips. “Just so you know, that’s not me being a big-headed prick, I just know what I’m capable of out on that field. That being said, I could blow my knee in the next game—or hell, even at practice—and never be able to play again. Going pro is the plan and the dream, but it’s too early to tell where, or anything really.”

She raised her spoon-holding hand in surrender. “A healthy dose of self-confidence is always good. I could use some of it myself.” She paused for a moment. “And I know you’re not a big-headed prick, Dylan. Yeah, you say you’re good on the field, but you’re not being obnoxious about it. You just said you’ll work harder to show them what a mistake they made by skipping you—you didn’t give me a dirty grin and say they’d be lucky to have you play on their team. That would’ve been obnoxious.” She narrowed her eyes in uncertainty. “Do you know what I mean?”

Instead of smiling back at her, or taking a step forward that would bring me closer to her, or saying thank you in a gruff voice, I asked a simple question. This time it was no surprise; I was completely aware of what I was about to ask her. “Do you wanna make a bet with me, Zoe?”

Her smile shrunk a little, and she finally put the spoon down in the bowl to try to understand where I was going with my question. After a few seconds of contemplating, she shifted her weight and leaned her hip against the counter. “Where did that come from? And what kind of bet are we talking about here?”

The sun sent the first shy rays of light through the windows and onto Zoe’s face as I put my water down and faced her. I watched her squirm when my new stance brought me just a bit closer to her. I could see how much she wanted to back up in the way she shifted from foot to foot. If I took one big step, we’d breathe the same air. The glint, the sparkle I could see in her eyes told me she wouldn’t be scared away that easily.

“Let’s bet on a kiss,” I said, deciding to end her misery. “I think we’re gonna end up kissing one of these days, and I bet you’ll be the first one to beg for it.”

She froze. Her bowl was still suspended in air, so I reached forward and gently took it from her hand. When she didn’t release her hold on the spoon, I pried her fingers off of it with my other hand and put her soggy breakfast on the counter—Honey Nut Cheerios from the looks of it. Not a bad choice.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you say I’m going to beg you?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”

“I stand corrected—you are full of yourself,” she marveled.

“You don’t believe me? That’s fine—means you’ll win. Let’s make the bet.”

“Did you forget about the part where I told you I had a boyfriend?”

I hadn’t, and I didn’t like it, but I was still unsure about her dating situation. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if she was telling the truth or not, if I was being honest. She’d said it was complicated, and complicated never boded well for a relationship. He was probably a douchebag anyway. “You said it was complicated. Things change, and again, the worst that can happen is you’ll win the bet. What do you have to lose?”

“Not always. Sometimes things don’t change.”

“I have a feeling about this one.”

“Oh yeah?” She crossed her arms, making her oversized t-shirt hike up a few more inches on those smooth legs. If I looked long enough, hard enough, could I see that hint of soft blue again? “Care to share that feeling with the rest of us?”

My gaze snapped back up, and I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug. “Scared to lose? If you’re so sure of yourself, why not just take the bet?”

“I’m not gonna fall at your feet”—she wildly swung her hand in my direction—“just because I saw you half naked. A lot of guys work out. I’ve watched a lot of guys work out.”

One side of my mouth quirked up. “If you think that’s what makes me special—the fact that I have muscles—you’re definitely in for a surprise. Come on, what do you have to lose? I’m not gonna try to seduce you, I promise. In fact, I promise I’m not even gonna mention this bet again. Just an innocent game between friends. We’ll still be buddies, like you said.”

She started tugging on her lower lip with her fingers, thinking over everything I was saying. “Then why make the bet in the first place? I’m not saying I’d want you to seduce me or anything, not that you could anyway since I’m not even affected by half-naked bodies“—her hands moved in the air to indicate said half-naked body before going back to her pink lips—“and clearly, I wouldn’t want you to—”

“Clearly,” I repeated right after her.

“So, why?” she shot back, ignoring my amused words.

“Why not?”

She huffed. “That’s not an answer.”

I pushed away from the counter and she took a step back. “It’s okay. I understand if you don’t trust yourself around me.”

She raised her chin just a bit higher and gave me a flat look. “Cute. What do I get if I win?”

“Whatever you want?”

“That’s a lot of rein you’re giving me. What if I ask you to…okay forget about it, I’m not gonna give it away. I have to think about it some more.”

I nodded. That was fair.

“What are the rules?” she asked, her fingers finally leaving her lips alone. “The time frame?”

“No rules. Nothing changes. It’s just a harmless bet between two friends, nothing more, promise. As for the time frame…let’s say before I graduate. I don’t think you’ll take that long, but, just in case.”

A saccharine smile touched her lips, surprising a genuine grin out of me. I half expected her to flip me the bird while she was at it, but then she pressed her lips together, her expression turning serious. “What do you get out of this?”

Even though I hadn’t thought that far ahead since kissing her would be a win all on its own, I realized I didn’t even have to think about it. “If I win, I get to have a second kiss…and a third one. After all, three seems to be the magic number with us.”

Instead of making their way up to her lips, her fingers tugged and twisted the tiny charm hanging at the end of her silver necklace, just a little above her breasts. If the color of her bra straps were anything to go by, she was wearing matching underwear, which was a thing that got me going. A sexy set of matching underwear kicked everything up a notch for me.

She squared her shoulders, and I forced myself to snap out of imagining what kind of underwear she had underneath that faded t-shirt before my dick could salute her. “I’m really good at bets, just so you know,” she said eventually. “And I’ve never begged to kiss anyone in my life, Dylan.”

“Are you just as good with them as you are with impromptu staring contests?” I gave her a half shrug and tried to keep my smile at a minimum. “It doesn’t matter. I like the idea of being your first, Zoe.”

One side of her lip quirked up. “Make fun all you want. Better watch out—that’s all I’m saying.”

“See, then you have nothing to worry about. You’ll be safe from my lips.”

Again, as we seemed to do, we stood there staring at each other for a few seconds, both of us sporting a small smile. This time around she was the one to look away first, and I was nice enough not to point it out.

I gripped the towel hanging on my shoulder. “I better get ready to head out. Don’t wanna be late to practice.”

“You know this means if you beg me for a kiss, you’ll lose too, right?”

I did nothing but smile. I could’ve kissed her right then and there, but if she wasn’t lying and really had a boyfriend, that wouldn’t go over well, and I wasn’t that guy. I wouldn’t do what had been done to me. I would have bet money there was no actual boyfriend, but there was football, and it was very much real. I was living the most important year of my life so far, and I already had a brutal schedule ahead of me.

Zoe nodded, like it was decided. Then, suddenly, she had her fist extended between our bodies. I looked down at it.

“What’s that?”

“Hit it.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Hit it?”

“Yes. Come on, don’t leave me hanging. Buddies occasionally do fist bumps.”

When I wasn’t fast enough because I was busy trying to figure out how she had come into my life out of nowhere and how I was going to survive her, she gave her little fist a shake and tilted her head, pointing at it with her eyes, urging me to…hit it.

So, I fist-bumped my new friend and laughed all the way through it.

What else could I have done?

* * *

After I leftthe apartment and met up with the guys, we pushed through a three-hour practice. Not everyone on the team was happy about getting their asses kicked every day, but I wasn’t one of them. At least fall camp was over; it had been…ruthless, to say the least.

More than a handful of times, I had come face to face with both Kyle and Maxwell and had managed to ignore them just fine. On the field, I had to be their teammate, but as soon as we stepped off that green turf, I didn’t know them. I was getting better at compartmentalizing.

The second practice was over and we were walking to the showers, sweat literally dripping off of our bodies, JP started in on me. It went on for ten minutes, even during the showers, and by the time we made it into the locker room, he still hadn’t stopped.

“Don’t lie to me, man. Where are you staying?”

“For the hundredth time, I found a new roommate. I’m fine, chill out.”

“Where did you find him?”

I looked up at the ceiling and let out a breath. “Online.” No sense in telling him she was a, well…a she and not a he.

“You just went online and moved in with some random dude? Why? Are you too good for my air mattress?”

“I really can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but just to let you know…you snore, man. It’s okay when we’re staying in a hotel for away games—I can handle it for a night or two, but for a year…”

His arms crossed over his chest and gave me one of the perfected fuck you looks he usually reserved for referees. He continued to stare down at me, trying his best to catch something from my expression. His damn mouth opened yet again, but I shook my head. “If you ask me one more time, I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“What’s going on?” Chris asked as he walked straight out of the showers and into our little huddle.

I yanked my sweatpants up and sat my ass back down on the bench.

JP turned all his attention to our starting quarterback. “Do you know? Because if you do and you’re not telling me, I swear to God, Chris—”

Apparently getting his ass kicked out on the field hadn’t been enough for him. He was asking for seconds.

Frowning, Chris looked at me and then at JP. “What the hell are you talking about? I just came in.”

“Fighter boy over here has a mysterious new roommate and he’s being all weird about it,” JP announced.

Not even bothering to lift my head up, I reached for my shirt. “If anyone is being weird around here, trust me, it’s you.”

“He’s not staying with you?” Chris broke in, ignoring my words. “I thought he was staying with you. Where are you staying, man?”

Groaning, I stood up and pulled my shirt down my stomach. “Are you two fucking kidding me right now? I swear to God, if either one of you asks me where I’m staying or if I’m doing okay again, I’m gonna beat your asses.”

“Do you see how defensive he’s getting?” JP asked Chris. “He’s still…”

Tuning them out, I reached for my phone when it started vibrating in my pocket. Chris went to his own locker, two down to my right, and started to put on his clothes, all the while going back and forth with JP about my ‘situation’.

I opened my text and saw it was from Victoria. I ignored it, just as I’d been doing with all her I want to talk to you texts, and pushed the phone back into my pocket. Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I walked away from the guys.

“I’m out of here. If you two ever end up finding your balls, you can find me at the food court. I skimped on breakfast so I’m starving.” I turned around and kept walking backward, leveling a death stare at JP. “Don’t even come near me if you’re planning on asking more questions.”

“Do you wanna go for In-N-Out?” Chris yelled before I could make it out.

It was always hard to be careful with my diet and especially to say no to cheeseburgers, but I didn’t want to miss my class, so this time it was an easy choice. There was also the fact that I always had to be careful with money if I wanted to keep sending some back home. Not having to pay rent would help with that. “Can’t today. I have a class at two then a study session around five. You two go on without me.”

“We’ll see you at Jack’s place tonight?” JP yelled as I pushed open the door. Jack was our kicker.

“I’ll text you if I can make it.”

When I slammed the door shut and rounded the corner, I could still hear JP shouting after me.

I had taken only a few steps when I heard a loud thump echo in the quiet building.

A brunette caught my eye as she exited one of the meeting rooms at the other end of the hall. I only realized who it was when she whipped her hair back while holding the door open for someone. Coach walked out next, right on Zoe’s heels. Both of their shoulders were stiff, and neither of them looked particularly happy as they moved as far away from each other as they could get. Coach’s face turned toward her and I saw his lips move. Even though I was walking toward them, there was no way I could catch up before they made it to the lobby and exited the complex. I didn’t notice Zoe replying to Coach, but I noticed her posture stiffen even more. He turned around and disappeared into the team viewing room. Zoe picked up her pace, passed the trophy displays without lifting her gaze from the ground, and walked out…unaware that I had stopped moving and was standing completely still, full of questions.