Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(24)

We were at a house party courtesy of one of the players’ cousins from the Hogs. It was the usual—* on demand, liquor flowing—but what was unusual was that I didn’t have an ounce of f*cking interest in any of it, too busy wondering what Molly was up to back home, too busy wondering if she’d seen my shit show of a game.

I’d just about given up trying to rid her from my mind.

Austin got up to get more beer, and a few minutes later, the couch cushion dipped next to me, signaling his return. Tossing me another bottle, he asked, “You okay?”

I nodded, biting off the cap with my teeth before taking a long swig.

“You’ll get your form back, you know. You’re just having an off start to the season.”

“Off start? Fuck. I can’t play no more. Nothing I try goes right. I overshot my pass to you today by about five yards,” I muttered sullenly.

“Shut up, Rome. You’re the best damn player in the state, hell, the country. You’re just going through too much and can’t leave that baggage outta the game.”

“How do you know what I’m going through?”

Austin shrugged. “Seen you like this before, when you took the football scholarship at UA. Your daddy almost beat you into hospital, and you, the sadistic f*cker you are, just let him.”

That memory was hard to forget. I’d gone home straight from my game to tell my daddy I’d accepted a scholarship with the Tide. Coach had been coming to some of my senior games in high school and when we took state, he offered me a place at UA on the spot. It was one of the happiest days of my life. That was until I told my daddy. I think he’d always assumed I’d eventually come around to his way of thinking, would eventually give up all the football crap and follow in his footsteps and go into the family business. But he didn’t understand the passion I had for the game, never did, and that’s where our present issues began.

The minute I told him I’d gotten a full scholarship, he’d snapped. I remember realizing at that moment that he was never going to let me lead my own life. And f*ck knows why, but I stood before my irate father, the stocky man throwing punch after punch… and I took every one. Smiled at him through each blow. Then, bloodied and beaten, packed my shit and slept on Austin’s floor for several weeks before having to go back home to wait out the rest of the year. I avoided my folks for months, stayed well out of their way, living mostly in the old cabin on their land, then left for summer training camp with the Tide and never looked back.

Snapping back to the present, metal music booming through the speakers, I said, “There was no point in fighting back. I’d learned that just made it worse.”

“So what’s up now? He still trying to stop you from entering the draft?”

“Yeah, nothing new there.” I huffed out a tired laugh. “But now he wants me to marry Shelly. I refused, of course, haven’t spoken to him since, but I know he won’t give up.” I glanced at the bottle in my hands and said, “Nothing ever changes for us, eh, brother?”

Shaking his head, Austin said, “Sometimes, Rome, I wonder how we both got such shit lives. You with all the money in the world but with the worst parents on Earth.” I actually laughed at that. “Or me, a piece of trailer trash nothing, with two dickhead brothers and a saint of a mother who can barely walk anymore.”

I tilted my bottle of beer in his direction and he clinked his against mine, no more words needing to be said.

The party carried on, most of the players scoring chicks for the night, and Jimmy-Don came back into the room finding Austin and me still on the same spot. “Guys! A group of us are heading out to a bar, you coming?”

“Your girl not going to be pissed at you if you do?” I asked with a teasing smile.

Jimmy-Don was crazy about his new girl, never shut up about the damn Texan blonde all the way to Arkansas. Apparently the chick was adventurous as all hell in bed, which I discovered after the seventh detailed explanation of their top ten sexual positions. What the f*ck’s Othello’s Back Grove anyway?

“Hell no! Cass’d probably kick my ass if I didn’t go out and drink, and she knows I wouldn’t stray.”

I believed him. He was a good guy.

“Gonna pass,” I said. “I think I’ll just head back to the hotel.”

Bending down, Jimmy-Don pressed his hand against my head once again. “Seriously, Bullet, are you sick? For real? First, no women in weeks and now, refusing to go to a bar? You’re Invasion of the Body Snatchers deal is scaring the shit outta me!”

Laughing, I stood, patting him on the back. “I’m just sick of it all, man. Need to get my head down and focus. Catch you later.”

Austin came back with me, something clearly bugging him too, but we knew not to pry into each other’s problems and instead talked football all the way back to our rooms.

Once in bed, I closed my eyes, and it was Molly’s face I saw, her kiss I tasted, and sighing, I began counting down the hours until I could see her again.

I was so f*cking screwed.

*

As soon as the plane hit the tarmac, the texts started. My daddy writing that he wanted to see me, needed to see me, warning me that I’d better f*cking see him!

Then at six thirty in the damn morning, he called. Deciding to just answer and get his lecture over with, I greeted with a reluctant, “Daddy.”