Tackled: A Sports Romance Read online

  Cassie puts a hand over her mouth to hide a giggle.

  I pull my t-shirt over my head. "Don't laugh," I say. "You don't have to deal with her."

  Cassie snorts. "Whatever you say, honeybun."

  "That's nothing," I grumble. "When Drew and I were growing up she used to call us honeybun and honey-two."

  "You have a brother?" Cassie asks. She bends over to pick up her messenger bag and puts the strap on her shoulder.

  "He's my twin," I tell her. "He's in South Carolina."

  "Playing football?" she asks.

  "Baseball."

  She slides her palms over the fabric of her skirt. "Do I look…?"

  "Like you just came?" I finish for her.

  Cassie drops her bag on the floor. "Oh my God, I need to wash my hands," she blurts out, running into the bathroom. When she comes out, she gives me a sheepish look. "Are you sure we don't look like anything happened?"

  "You look as pure as the driven snow," I say.

  "Funny," she shoots back. "You're a real comedian."

  Stepping outside of my room, I look over the staircase to see my mother directing my roommates to help with unloading bags of groceries.

  "Spaghetti okay with you boys?" I hear her ask, as she carries two loaves of bread through the living room.

  "Hell yeah, Mrs. K," Emmett calls back. "Are there cookies in one of these containers?"

  My mom catches sight of me coming down the stairs and immediately pushes the loaves of bread onto Jack-off as he passes by her. She squeals. "Oh, my little baby Colton!" she sings in her thick southern accent, her arms wide open.

  From behind me, I hear Cassie giggle.

  Yeah, it’s totally not embarrassing at all to have your mother show up when you're in the middle of feeling up your tutor and then have her call you her “little baby” right in front of her.

  "Hey, mom," I call as I walk down the stairs. "I thought you weren't coming until later?"

  "Oh, please, I left early. I couldn’t wait to see you, and I wanted to miss traffic.”

  My mom reaches to hug me, but as soon as she sees Cassie, she shoves me aside. "Now, who is this?" she asks. "I'm Colton’s mama, but you can call me Mrs. K like the boys do. Or Doreen."

  "Cassandra," Cassie says. "It's nice to meet you. I was actually just on my way –"

  But my mom already has Cassie by the arm and is guiding her down the stairs. "Ma," I say. "Do not overwhelm her."

  "Hush, you." My mother slides her arm around Cassie. "Colton didn't tell me he was seeing someone. Especially someone as pretty as you."

  "Oh, he's not seeing me," Cassie explains quickly. "Or, he is seeing me. But not in that way. Definitely not. I mean, I’m not his girlfriend."

  Cassie laughs uncomfortably and looks at me with a panicked expression.

  "She's my tutor, mom," I clarify. "Not my girlfriend. I’m not seeing her. And you can stop manhandling her now."

  My mother lets go of Cassie and takes a step backward. "You should be his girlfriend," she says. Then she looks at me. "This is the kind of girl you should be dating. She's classy. Obviously she's smart if she's a tutor."

  "Ma," I interrupt, my voice firm. "We're not dating. She's not my girlfriend. This is purely a business arrangement."

  Now it's time for my face to burn as I look at Cassie. It is a business relationship.

  A business relationship that involves nudity. And orgasms.

  "Yes," Cassie agrees, clearing her throat. "Business only. I'm his tutor. The athletic department hired me."

  "My son would be an idiot not to date you you," my mom goes on, gesturing toward me. "An idiot, Colton. I can already tell she's not like the girls you usually…date. My son's taste in women leaves much to be desired."

  And, we're finished here.

  In about two seconds, my mother is going to mention how she wants grandchildren someday, and how that day can’t come soon enough.

  "All right, mom," I say, interrupting my mother's meddlesome antics. "Cassie is going now."

  "Yes," Cassie agrees. "I'm just going. I was only here to help him with some schoolwork."

  "On a Friday afternoon?" my mother asks, raising her eyebrow.

  "Yep. It was important schoolwork.”

  "In his room?" my mother presses.

  Cassie's cheeks turn pink. "I was in the neighborhood," she explains, her voice wavering, "and I stopped by to see if he needed any help with –"

  "An English paper," I interrupt. "She was giving me some advice on a paper."

  "Yes. A paper," Cassie confirms emphatically. "It was so nice to meet you but I really have to go now."

  My mother slides her arm back around Cassie's shoulder. Oh shit. She’s moving in for the kill.

  "Nonsense," she says. "You need to stay for dinner. How long has it been since you had a home-cooked meal? Are you a college student too? I don't know how you kids survive on ramen and macaroni and cheese, although that's pretty much the only thing Colton would eat when he was a toddler —"

  "Mom," I warn before she breaks out stories of potty training me.

  “Um…I'm in grad school," Cassie says. "But I really do need to –"

  "Oh, grad school!" my mother exclaims, looking over Cassie’s shoulder at me. "I knew you were brilliant. And you're the one who helped my son get an A on his exam. You have to stay for dinner. I insist."

  "Yo, Mrs. K!" Tank shouts, passing through the living room. My mother drops her arm from Cassie's shoulder as Tank gives her a bear hug, picking her up off the floor. My mother is all of five-foot-nothing and maybe a hundred and twenty pounds, and Tank is six-foot-three and over three hundred pounds.

  When he sets her down, she pulls back and appraises him. "You're looking thin, Jonathan," she says.

  Tank giggles like a schoolgirl. "I have to keep my figure. I've been missing your cooking," he says. "Did you bring those cinnamon rolls?"

  "I'll make a pan up just for you."

  “Score.”

  I nod my head at Cassie while my mother is distracted, and she walks quietly toward me. "Escape while you can," I whisper. "It's too late for me. Save yourself."

  Cassie laughs quietly as she tries to do that.

  "Oh, I do hope you're not leaving," my mother calls at once. Nothing escapes her attention. "I want to hear all about how you're helping my son."

  How Cassie is helping me is one thing my mother does not need to know.

  18

  Cassie

  "You know, my roommate is probably expecting me," I say, my flimsy little excuse totally flimsy. "It's almost time for dinner and I think we're going out to eat, and —"

  "She can come to dinner with us!" Doreen proclaims. She's like a tiny dictator, except sweet as pie, ordering around these massive football players like they're children. She makes you feel like you can't say no.

  I have to say no.

  "I'm not sure she's home —"

  "Go ahead and call her up," Colton’s mother says brightly. "I'm sure she has her cell phone on her. You kids are attached to your phones like you need them to breathe. You're all too young to remember the days of rotary phones."

  "Yeah, call her up," Colton says.

  I glare at him. A minute ago, he was all about ushering me out of here, and now I'm standing here in the middle of the living room with his mother and a whole bunch of guys from his football team talking about my dinner plans.

  "Is your roommate hot?" A large guy asks, his mouth full of cookie. He's holding two more in his hands, double-fisting dessert. "Cause if she's hot, she should totally come for dinner."

  "This girl is hot," another one points out. "Of course her roommate's hot. Hot girls have hot roommates."

  "Enough," Colton barks, his voice hard. That silences the roommates.

  Now everyone is standing here quietly, staring at me expectantly.

  Fuck me.

  I dial the phone, saying a silent prayer that Sable doesn't answer. She's probably out. Maybe she's on a date.