Jock Romeo (Jock Hard 6)

I fought harder to date him than I did to stay on the team.

Dating him became a full-time job.

The balance of power shifted the day he had me hooked. Some girls accept that kind of behavior because they want to date an athlete, and I was caught up in it, too.

Well not anymore.

For the time being, I plan on working on myself from the inside out and healing from the emotional gaslighting that was Kyle. Eliza can cheer me up, so I text her to see if she’s around—maybe even has a full fridge?

I’m starving.

Me: Are you busy?

It takes Eliza a few minutes to reply, and I wonder what she could be doing today; she has a new boyfriend and lives in his house in a more residential part of town, not far from campus but not up against it, either.

Eliza: I’m making linner. Why, do you need something?

Me: What’s linner?

Eliza: Lunch and dinner.

Eliza: But seriously, is everything alright?

Can she actually tell from the tone of my text that everything is not alright? Wow. She’s good.

Me: I need to talk—can I come over?

Eliza: Sure. Of course! We’re here, just hanging out. New roommate moving in, but his stuff is mostly in the house. Come on over.

Me: New roommate?

Eliza: Yeah—Jack and I sublet my room and I’m sleeping with him, LOL.

Me: Oooo you’re a couple now?! You should have told me!

Eliza: You’re so busy and we’ve been busy…

Me: I can’t wait to hear all about it and see your place. What’s the address? I was thinking I’d leave here in a few minutes.

I’m no more than ten steps inside my friend’s adorable new home when she grabs hold of my arm and looks me in the face.

“What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something is wrong?”

Eliza cocks her head and pulls me through the house without showing me the rooms—I’ve yet to have a proper tour—and into the kitchen.

“I can tell by the look on your face. You’re faking it.”

Faking it.

Ha.

I’ve been faking it for four months, orgasms included, but I’m surprised anyone else can tell. I have a mean poker face and can charm the pants off most people—that’s what cheerleaders do. Smile!

Smile for the crowd, smile for the camera, even when your team is losing.

I set my purse on the counter next to what appears to be a door to the laundry room then take a seat at the counter without being invited to sit.

Rest my chin in my hands with a sigh, eyes scanning the spread Eliza has out.

Pizza slices on a platter, croissant sandwiches, meat and cheese. Crackers.

What the heck is all this for? Is there a pro football game on I wasn’t aware of? It looks like a meal for the Super Bowl, not your basic Saturday.

Maybe she’s having actual company over.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have come…

“I’m sorry to pop over like this, but Kaylee hasn’t been home much and today I just didn’t want to be alone.” I lift my hands in an apologetic shrug.

Eliza takes my hand and squeezes. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I…ugh.” Uncomfortably grab a napkin and fiddle with the edge. “Kyle and I are done. Like, done done.”

Gotowe.

Finito.

Hecho.

Finished.

“Oh no, Lilly! Why?!”

There is no easy way to say this without making it awkward.

“He cheated.”

“Are you sure?” Eliza goes still. “How do you know?”

Eliza has always been a proponent of love and working things out; when Kyle and I went through a rough patch not so long ago, she was the one who encouraged me to contact him and make things right. She’s the one who gave me the courage to take the first step.

What she didn’t know was how many rough patches we’ve gone through in such a short period of time.

Too many.

Not healthy.

“I found the texts. Guess it’s been going on for a while.” I steal a slice of pizza that’s in the center of the counter, the spread fit for a college king. Or several college kings, and for a brief moment I wonder why the heck there is…

So.

Much.

Food.

The pizza is cold, not that I’m complaining, and I chew it slowly while I think.

“Do you know who she is?”

“Not really. Someone he met at a party I think.” Most likely there are several someones—I was too traumatized to seek out the laundry list of young women he’s likely got on speed dial, but my gut instincts are telling me there wasn’t just one.

Eliza screws up her face, genuinely sad. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry too—sorry it took me so long to wise up and see Kyle for the person he is: selfish, egotistical, and overindulged.

“I guess what I don’t understand is why he didn’t just tell me he was unhappy. We had that huge fight, remember?” Eliza nods. “Why would he get back together with me if he was cheating? He should have just told me then and left things the way they were and gone on his way.”