The Last First Game Page 2

“Thank you.” I smile at the bartender, pushing a twenty-dollar bill across the bar as he places a pint of Heineken on a coaster next to my hand.

  I glance down at my phone, delighted to see a Snapchat message from Mia. I click on her handle, MammaMiaP and her face appears before me. She’s just about to tuck into a giant cone of gelato, bits of cream evident on her face. I smile at the photo as it disappears. I’m glad she’s taking Maura’s advice and already starting her list of best gelato flavors. I toss my phone onto the bar.

  “Mind if I join you?” a voice to my right says.

  I swivel on the bar stool and lock eyes with the hot guy that was sitting near my gate earlier.

  “Hey. Sure.” I gesture at the empty stool next to me. “You get bumped as well?”

  “Something like that. Although, I don’t feel like I’m in too much of a hurry to get back.”

  I snort. “Same here.”

  He orders a Guinness. His hands are splayed flat on the surface of the bar, fingertips tapping softly. His skin is rich and creamy, a shade lighter than cappuccino, and his eyes are dark gray, stormy. Expressive. Sexy as hell.

  His hair is dark and cropped short, nearly to his scalp. A dark gray T-shirt hugs his biceps and as he leans forward on the bar stool, a pair of dog tags falls forward out of the deep V-neck of his shirt. He tucks them away carefully.

  “Cheers.” He holds his pint up to me when his beer arrives.

  “Cheers,” I echo, clinking my glass against his.

  “I’m Cade, by the way.”

  “Lila.”

  “Good to meet you, Lila.”

  “You too, Cade.” I hide my smile behind my beer as I say his name. It’s a hot name.

  “Going back to school?” He kicks lightly at my bags on the floor.

  “Something like that. I’m going for an internship at Astor for the semester. I really go to college in Philadelphia.”

  He nods. “Your version of study abroad?”

  “Exactly. What about you?”

  “I’m a student at Astor. Senior year.”

  “Oh my God, really? Me too. I mean, I’m a senior. I just thought you were older.”

  “Nah. Twenty-two.”

  “You got me beat then. I’m still twenty-one.”

  He laughs. “Old enough to drink.” He raises his glass to his lips again.

  “That’s true.”

  “Are you excited about heading to California? Kind of tough to miss a semester of your senior year, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Although the timing worked out really well. Two of my best friends also left campus for the semester. Mia landed in Rome a few days ago. She’s doing a semester in Italy, and already enjoying the gelato.” I smile, thinking about her picture. “My other friend, Emma, took an internship on Capital Hill in D.C. Poor Maura, though. She’s all by herself, probably cursing the rest of us.”

  Cade laughs. “Maybe Maura will just have to visit the rest of you girls.”

  I nod, enthusiastically. “Yeah. Or we can visit her. At least, Emma and I can. That’s why I took the plane ticket. I figured at some point over the semester it will be nice to know that I can come back for a long weekend or something.”

  “That makes sense. Are you from around here?”

  “Sort of. I’m originally from Massachusetts, but my family moved to New York a few years ago. So I guess now this is home. What about you?”

  “From New Jersey. Born and bred.”

  I laugh, thinking of the popular Broadway musical Jersey Boys, based on the success of the 1960’s band, The Four Seasons. My mom loves their music. “A Jersey boy, huh?”

  “I can’t sing a lick.” Cade smiles. “So don’t get any ideas.”

  “Noted.”

  “Do you know anyone in your internship program?”

  I sigh. “Not yet. It’s like freshman year all over again. Jitters and orientation and a new roommate.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He smiles, his eyes narrowing in on my lips. “I know you’ll be. I’ll give you my number before we board. I know tons of people I can introduce you to. And my house has parties all the time, so you’ll just have to come by and kick it.”

  “Your house? I didn’t have you pegged as a frat guy.”

  Cade laughs, a low, lazy rumble from his chest. He shakes his head slightly, looking amused. “I’m not. I’m on the football team. A bunch of us live together. The house is always pretty rowdy and a good time.”

  My eyes widen slightly. A football player. For Astor. I think back to April. Two Astor players were drafted into the NFL. One of them was a sophomore. Yeah, no wonder he’s in such incredible shape. I run my eyes over him appraisingly. “Yeah, football definitely suits you better.”

  Cade laughs again. “So since we’re going to be friends and kick it in Cali together, I’d say shots are in order. We’ve got…” he pauses, checking his watch “…two more hours to kill.”

  “You’re on.” I smile, turning my bar stool closer to Cade’s.

  “Two shots of Patron, please,” he says to the bartender.

  “Tequila’s my favorite.”

  He smiles at me, his eyes lightening. “Mine too.”

  The bartender pours two shots and pushes over a saltshaker and some limes. I lick my wrist and shake on some salt. Cade follows suit.

  “Ready?” He raises his shot glass.

  “Let’s do this!”

  We clink our glasses together and lick the salt from our wrists. The clear liquid burns my throat as I toss the shot back. I bite into the lime and close my eyes.

  Definitely not a bad way to kick off fall semester.

  Chapter Three

  Cade

  “Here you go.” I pull Lila’s massive navy suitcase off the baggage carousel and place it in front of her. “Are you sure you can handle all these bags?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Oh yeah. This … pshh.” She waves a hand to indicate the assorted pieces of baggage around her feet. “Piece of cake.”

  “Let me give you a hand,” I offer, swinging my duffle bag over my shoulder. Then I stoop and pick up two of her bags.

  “Thanks, Cade.”

  “No worries.” I gesture toward the exit, and we start walking.

  Lila pulls her navy suitcase behind her, her eyes growing wide as we step out of the airport. The dry heat hits us immediately, a welcome change from the dense humidity of Jersey. Lila pulls a pair of sunglasses from the front pouch of her suitcase and slips them on, shielding her eyes from the brightness of the day. The honking cars and shouting taxi drivers offset the airport buzz in the background.

  “Wow. It’s hot.”

  “Welcome to California. If you want, we can split a cab to campus. That way, you’ll definitely end up in the right place and it won’t be too expensive since it’s a ride from the airport.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.”

  We wait in the taxi line and are quickly ushered into a cab. Not soon enough, though, as I already feel drops of sweat sliding down my back. I place Lila’s luggage in the trunk of the car and toss my duffel bag on the middle seat in between us as I slide in.

  I watch her as she stares out the window, taking in her first sights of LA. She cranes her neck to look into the distance and opens her window, sticking her arm outside to feel the hot air passing by.

  When we arrive at campus, I direct the taxi to her dorm. She takes a deep breath before exiting the taxi, and I can’t help but notice how nervous she looks. Her deep blue eyes are wide, and she’s chewing her bottom lip. She unknowingly twists a gold bangle around her wrist. After a second exhale, she pushes her hair behind her ears and squares her shoulders, as if to mentally psych herself up for the semester.

  I step out of the taxi and begin to unload her bags from the trunk. She comes around a few moments later and smiles at me.

  “Here …” She tosses me her phone. “Add your number so we can be friends for real.”

  I laugh, adding myself to h
er contact list. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks for splitting the cab.” She reaches into her wallet and begins to remove some bills.

  “Get out of here.” I wave my hand at her.

  “No, please.” She tries to push a few folded up twenties into my hand.

  “Keep it.” I give her back her phone, my fingers lightly grazing the underside of her wrist. Her skin is so soft. “Thanks for keeping me company at the airport.”

  She smiles shyly. “Thank you, Cade.”

  I snap the trunk shut. “Where are we going?” I gesture toward the bags.

  “Oh, no worries, really. I got it from here.” She picks up one of the shoulder bags and props another on top of her suitcase. “I’ll see ya around.”

  I nod, watching her turn away. “Count on it.”

  Chapter Four

  Lila

  My dorm room is a replica of every other college dorm in America: two twin beds, two identical desks, one small mini-fridge, and the classic white dry-erase board hanging on the door. Stepping inside, I steel myself to meet my new roommate, but the stillness of the room informs me that I’m alone.

  One side is already decorated. A poster of David Beckham in his underwear hangs on the wall next to my roommate’s bed. Her bed is neatly made, a deep purple comforter turned down over crisp, cream sheets, the corners expertly tucked. Her laptop sits on top of her desk with a small reading lamp and two framed photos. One frame holds a photo of her family, a conservatively dressed brunette group. Three girls huddled around a Golden Retriever with their parents smiling over their shoulders. The second frame showcases two girls, obviously best friends, with their arms thrown around each other’s shoulders and goofy grins on their faces. After matching the girl in both pictures, I realize my roommate is a petite brunette with a wide smile and straight teeth. Hmm, seems harmless.

  The door bangs open loudly and I jump back from the desk, straightening up and whirling around.

  “Oh good, you’re here,” a southern drawl announces. She drops her purse on her bed and walks over to me, smiling broadly. “I’m Kristen.” She pulls me into a hug.

  “Hey,” I say awkwardly, patting her back. “Lila.”

  “Oh, I know. I already checked with the Orientation people. I was wondering when you were going to show up. Anyway, welcome. Hope you don’t mind, I picked the left side of the room.” She gestures toward her perfectly placed belongings.

  “No, it’s cool.”

  She smiles again. “Need help unpacking?”

  “Uh—”

  The door opens and bangs closed again. “Oh my God. You’re never going to believe who I just saw. Cade freaking Wilkins. The football player. Talk about sexy.” A tall, skinny guy leans dramatically against the closed bedroom door, one hand bracing himself from falling over, the other pushing his thick, green glasses up on his nose. “Men in California are just too yummy.”

  Kristen rolls her eyes. “Sam, this is Lila.”

  “Oh, thank God you’re here.” Sam strides over to me, grasping my shoulders and kissing me on both cheeks. “Kris was starting to worry.” He flops down on her bed, kicking off his flip-flops.

  “Hi,” I say, waving awkwardly.

  “So, tell us your story.” Sam sits up straighter, hunching forward.

  “My story?”

  “Yes. I need to know everything if we’re going to be friends. And we are, obvi.”

  Kristen laughs, pushing Sam’s shoulder. “Give her a minute, Sam. She just arrived.”

  Sam’s face brightens. “Perfect timing. I was thinking we could go down to Jose Maria’s Cantina for margaritas. How about we go…” he checks his watch, his eyes narrowing “…nowish? You can unpack afterward, right, Lila?”

  “Uh,” I stammer, taken aback by Sam’s larger-than-life personality. My phone chimes with a text, and I pull it quickly from my back pocket.

  Brandon: Hey. Hope you like CA so far. When you can, call Mom. I know she’d like to hear from you. She’s having a hard time …

  Ugh. My parents’ messed-up issues follow me all the way across the country. I roll my eyes at the message. “Yeah. Let’s get Mexican. I can really go for a quesadilla with that margarita.”

  “Woop!” Sam jumps up, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Girl after my own heart.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, I’m tucked into a booth at Jose Maria’s. Kristen sits across from me, dipping a nacho into guacamole while Sam flags down our waiter for another round of margaritas.

  “Three more,” he gestures to the empty glasses of habanero goodness we all sucked down in minutes.

  “So, like I was telling you guys, I saw Cade Wilkins while I was walking to your dorm.”

  “Who’s he?” Kristen asks, biting into another nacho.

  “Who’s he? Seriously? He’s like one of the hottest football players to ever grace Astor’s field. And he’s one of the best. Girls fall all over him, teams try to recruit him, and professors are kind of obsessed with him. God, I forget how much you guys don’t know since you don’t go here,” Sam says.

  “I met him at the airport in New York. He helped me find the dorm,” I throw in, adding a ridiculous scoop of guac to my nacho.

  “You talked to him?” Sam squeals, squeezing my arm.

  I nod. “We split a taxi,” I say around my mouthful.

  “Oh my God. I’m so glad I decided to make you one of my besties for the semester.”

  Kristen laughs and raises one of the fresh margaritas that just arrived in my direction. “To new beginnings. New friends. And a kick-ass semester with some California hotties.”

  I laugh, leaning back in my chair. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “Me too.” Sam smiles, raising his glass to clink it against Kristen’s and mine. I smile at Kristen and Sam. It’s crazy that I just met them and yet their welcoming nature and kindness has made me feel like I belong here. After meeting Cade earlier today, spending time with the two of them, and putting some much-needed distance between my family and me, I’m starting to reconsider this semester.

  Maybe it won’t be so terrible after all.

  Chapter Five

  Cade

  “Yo, dude. How’d it all go?” Miers pops his head into the doorway of my room.

  “Yeah, man. It was okay. Nice for Jared, I guess.”

  Miers is quiet for a moment. He nudges the door open wider with his foot and his six-four frame fills the doorway completely. He leans against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. Out of my peripheral vision I see him studying me, trying to gage my mood, see if I want to talk about anything. For all of his stupid pranks and incessant need to be the life of every party, Miers is solid. He’s my best friend and knows me better than anyone else.

  After Jared.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he mutters.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, dude. Just wanted to say what’s up. See how your trip home went. How’re your moms and pops? Did you bring me back anything?”

  I laugh. Miers is obsessed with Mamma’s cooking, especially her soul food. “They’re doing alright. Mamma sent you some cornbread. I think Dad was jealous.”

  He laughs. “Nah, your dad loves me. Where is it?”

  I toss him the metal tin Mamma packed especially for Miers.

  “Sweet. I’ll call her later to thank her.”

  I nod.

  “You ready for the game next week?” Miers asks, popping the lid off the tin. He takes his first bite of cornbread and moans.

  “Yeah, I think we’ll do alright. You know…” I gesture toward the corn bread crumbs falling out of his mouth “…it tastes better if you actually chew it. Anyway, sucks about Roberts and Bellans being out for the first game, but I think we can manage without them. At least for now. How’s Bellans doing anyway?”

  Miers whistles. “Dude, his shoulder is seriously fucked. He’s in PT constantly.” He shrugs, his blue eyes growing serious. “I don’t know if he’s
going to come back.”

  I stare at him hard. “Seriously?”

  Miers just shrugs. “He’s going to need another surgery.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know. We can’t afford any more injuries. Everyone better stick to conditioning and bring it, or we’re going to lose before the season even gets underway.”

  I nod, thinking about Roberts and Bellans. Roberts is one of our best offensive linebackers and Bellans is the second-string QB. Plus, we lost Grady when he got drafted. As a sophomore! I sigh.

  Miers is still standing in the doorway, chewing thoughtfully. He runs his hand through his shaggy blond hair and eyes me.

  “What?” I ask, annoyed by his intense stare.

  He smiles, all knowingly. “Who is she?”

  “Who’s who?”

  “Oh come on, dude. Don’t give me that shit. You met someone. For sure. Otherwise, you’d be in one hell of a foul, mopey mood. You’re not moping nearly as much as I anticipated.”

  “Maybe I’m just dealing.”

  “Nah. Not your style. You met someone. What’s her name? Is she a Jersey girl? Does she rock one of those insane hair poofs and say things like ‘yous’?”

  I roll my eyes. “You really need to never watch Jersey Shore again.”

  “Dude, it’s Jerseylicious now.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Don’t deflect. Who is she?”

  I sigh, knowing Miers won’t let it go. God forbid he say something to any of the other guys, I’ll have the whole house busting my balls before practice tomorrow.

  My phone chimes with a text and Miers lunges for it, scooping it up from my desk before I can grab it.

  “Funny, you don’t move that fast in a game.”

  He chuckles. “Lila, huh?” He tosses me the phone. “I like that name.” He whistles to himself as he leaves my room, protecting the tin of cornbread in his arms like he does the football. “Mine!” I hear him yell at one of the guys in the hallway. No doubt, the cornbread will be finished before practice tomorrow.

  I kick my door shut and lean back on my bed, propping my knee up on a few spare pillows. It’s still feeling tight and sore. In fact, I think it’s a bit swollen. Elevating will help.