Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
BO
The way I run into the locker room once practice is over turns some heads for sure. I barely speak to anyone when I shower and throw on a T-shirt and sweatpants.
As I’m rushing out the door to my car with my phone in hand, ready to call Chelsea, Casey calls out to me, “Yo, Callaway! Where you running to like your ass is on fire?”
A few of the guys standing around laugh and chime in.
“Only one thing other than football that can make a man run like that. Pussy!” Trevor Diaz, one of our linemen, shouts.
I roll my eyes and shake my head, but keep walking. I hold up my middle finger as I walk out the door. Seconds later, my phone buzzes, and I look at it to see a text from Casey.
Casey: Seriously, where are you going?
Bo: Dinner
Casey: At home?
Bo: No
Casey: Bro, just tell me.
Bo: Chelsea’s
Casey: Duuuude. Good for you, man. Don’t forget to wrap it up. You don’t want to pull an Archie.
I roll my eyes but laugh. Archie has a great life and loves his wife and daughter. Not that I would want that right now, but he regrets nothing.
When I get to my SUV, I toss my duffel bag in the back seat next to my backpack that I dropped off earlier.
Just as I’m getting into the driver’s seat, my phone rings.
It’s my dad. If I don’t answer now, he’ll probably try calling again later, and I really don’t want to talk to him while I’m hanging out with her.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“Bo. How was practice?” he asks, and it surprises me because he never calls to ask about practice.
“It was good. Thanks.” Silence stretches. “Is everything okay?”
He sighs. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
I bark out a laugh. “What? Why?”
“I have a photo here of you kissing a girl’s hand outside of the library, and it definitely looks like you’re more than friends, Bo.”
What the actual fuck? That was hours ago, and he already knows?
“Who took a picture of me? What, do you have spies on campus?” I say, even though it sounds preposterous.
My dad’s a judge, not the CIA.
“There are a lot of people on campus in my Rolodex.”
“Dad, no one uses the term Rolodex—”
“Bo, straighten up. I thought we agreed on no distractions. This is a big year for the two of us.”
“Us? Last I checked, I was the one up for the draft. You have a big announcement or something?”
It’s not a secret among the inner workings of our family that my dad’s ultimate goal is to be a judge on the United States Supreme Court.
A pipe dream for most, but for Callaways, things like becoming a professional football player or serving on the highest court in the land can easily become reality.
Keep your nose clean and your family tight and work harder than anyone else has been drilled into me since I was a child.
“Maybe. I need to have a discussion with you about a few things but …” I hear his exasperated tone and can picture him running his hand over the back of his neck. “Just remember, it’s your last year at Walker, and you need to keep your reputation squeaky clean.”
“For the NFL?”
Dad pauses, and I hear the hesitation in his tone. “For … a lot of things.”
“Why would it be a problem if she was my girlfriend?”
I’m confused by this entire conversation. My dad has never asked or cared about what I do with girls. Likely because I’ve always been so focused on football, but still.
“I’m concerned that you’re starting off on the wrong foot as it is, what with needing tutoring. And let’s be honest—you might have won the game, but there’s clearly some work to do. You need to be a leader on that field.”
What the fuck?
“Right. Got it. No distractions here.” I huff. “The girl I was pictured with—by the way, how did you see it? I was at practice for two hours and saw her right before. Are you having me followed or something? Is this some security detail type of situation?”
It’d better not be. I do not want to be followed around by some bodyguard. I’m fine with the crew here, filming, but when I’m off the field and out of this building, that’s my time.
“That’s not the point, Bo. I just want to make sure you’re working toward the finish line here.” He evades the question.
“The girl is my tutor, but also my friend. I’ve talked about her before. She’s Casey’s girlfriend, Noelle’s roommate. But, yes, I do also like her. Not that it’s really any of your business or anyone else’s.” I push start on my car, and the engine rumbles.
“I vaguely remember you mentioning something about her. What’s her name again?”
“Why, so you can look her up?” I shake my head even though I know he can’t see me.
“Name?” he asks again.
I know he can find out if I don’t tell him anyway.
“Chelsea Sullivan.” I can picture it clear as day. My dad is probably writing down her name and passing it over to his assistant to look her up.
“That name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t place it.” He harrumphs, and I can hear him tapping his pen on his desk.
“I doubt you would know her. She’s from the East Coast.” I’m trying not to sound defensive because I have no reason to be. But I don’t need him digging around my life and scaring her off either. She seems like a pretty private person, and being around me will be challenging on its own.
“And? Your mother is also from the southern East Coast.”
“Dad, let it go. Let me see how it goes, and if it looks like it’s going somewhere, I’ll want you guys to meet her anyway. You’d actually really like her. She’s prelaw and very focused on getting into law school.”
“Even more reason for you not to start something with this girl.” He takes in a deep breath, then blows it out. “If she’s going to law school, she doesn’t need distractions either.”
“Dad, we’re not getting married today. Chill. We’re hanging out.”
“Bo, I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Whatever it is you think you have going with this girl, end it. Now. Do not disappoint me.” He disconnects without saying goodbye.
I look down at my phone to see he really did hang up on me after issuing an order, like I’m a child.
But as bothered as I am by my dad right now, I’m also really angry that someone is snapping pictures of me on campus.
Sure, it’s happened before, and I don’t pay much attention to it. But it’s not just me.
I pull out of the parking lot behind the stadium and call Chelsea. I want to hear her voice right now more than anything.
“Hi,” she answers, and just the sound of her voice is like a warm blanket.
The question is, do I tell Chelsea about my conversation with my dad, or do I take care of it on my own?
I don’t want to lose what we have going because of it.
She’d probably freak. She might have been raised by her aunt, but I bet her parents were average, normal people who didn’t let future aspirations control their every move.
I love my family, but I understand they could come off as upper crust for other people.
I’ve finally had my chance with her and made my move, and I don’t want to jeopardize something before we know exactly where it’s going.
“Hey, I just finished with practice. Do you want me to come over now?” Please say yes. “Or do you need some time?”
“Oh, no, you can come over. I’m done with the prep. I was just waiting for you before I put it in the oven because it doesn’t take long.”
“And you’re sure I can’t bring anything?” I’m nearing the grocery store, so I want to stop now if she needs something.
“Nope, I have everything I need.”
“Okay then. I’ll see you in about five minutes.” I turn down the road that leads to her apartment.
“See you soon.” Her voice pitches slightly, and it’s fucking cute.
“Bye, Chelsea.” I end the call.
I’m not gonna let this call with my dad ruin my night.
He means well since he’s seen reputations of good men go down because of bad choices and families torn apart because of sour relationships.
He’s worked too hard to get to where he is.
Judge Callaway has an immaculate reputation, and it will stay that way.
Ending things with Chelsea because of his doubts when we’re just getting started, ain’t gonna happen. Fuck that.
Plus, once Dad gets to know her, he’ll realize how amazing she is. Smart as hell, a future lawyer. A hard worker, has a loving family, and an awesome personality that keeps me on my toes.
Yeah, I’ve got it bad, and I’m not ashamed of it.
Within minutes, I’m pulling into a parking spot in front of her building.
I don’t need to bring my duffel bag inside, but I do want to take my backpack since I have an iPad in it.
I get out of my car and reach into the back for my backpack.
When I turn, I see Chelsea standing outside the door of her apartment.
I wave to her, and she waves back and smiles at me.
I don’t expect anything from her tonight, but I definitely want to mess around some more.
Preferably with less clothes and not coming in my pants again.
And glancing at what she’s wearing, I’d say we’re already making progress.
She’s got on a tank top that’s hugging her chest so tight that I can see her already-peaked nipples through it.
And the shorts … they’re pretty fucking short.
I notice a tattoo on her left bicep that I’ve never seen before that I definitely want to look at closer.
As I approach, her smile grows wider. “Hi,” she says, leaning up to kiss me.
“Hi. I like this kind of hello.”
I lean in and kiss her again. Her lips are soft, warm, a little hesitant at first—until I press closer and feel her melt against me. My hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, guiding her deeper into the kiss. She exhales, and that tiny sound wrecks me.
She presses her hand on my chest. “Agreed, but let’s not get carried away for the whole complex to see.” She turns on her heel and walks into her apartment. “Do you mind that the windows are open? I feel like I need a few more days of fresh air in here.”
I follow her in. “That’s fine with me. You know you can still come stay at our house.”