Conflicted (The Deliverance Series Book 2) Page 3

  “And if she doesn’t?” I can feel the worry in every word she mutters.

  “We won’t wait forever, Button.” I try to lighten the conversation by using my nickname for her. Circling her shoulders with my arms, I pull her in for a hug.

  As we pull away, Tarrant comes around the corner with some of the football team. They mustn’t have a class right now. Tarrant raises his chin at them in a goodbye notion and makes his way over to us. My gaze darts behind him as I easily pick out Casper in the group, eyeing over his form, when I look back at his face I notice his eyes are directed at me. I smile at him, but he just stares back quizzically. I want to wink, to play a little.

  I have this feeling if he’s gay, he either doesn’t realize it, or hasn’t accepted it, and that could mean real heartache for me in the long run.

  The minute my last class finishes, I make my way over to the football field for practice.

  “Hey coach,” I holler, heading into the changing rooms.

  “Caden!” Aaron shouts the instant I walk in. He always says hello, but I get the feeling his acknowledgment today has more to do with letting the others know I’m here. I lift my chin in response and walk to my locker. The guys, for the most part, are okay with me. Once my sexuality was out in the open, Coach Stanford pulled us all to one side and gave us a pep talk. Lots of words about it being a modern day and age, and for the guys to take into account they don’t live in the wild, so to only act like animals on the field.

  All but two of them took heed of Coach’s words. Timothy Duncan and Dennis Potts are two openly homophobic assholes, and they often make it clear they aren’t happy with me being gay—like I have a choice. They’ve never been aggressive physically. They’re big guys, both linebackers, they could take me on if it were the two of them against me. Thankfully, it usually stops at a few nasty comments. Except for during football, they keep away from me, like I might accidentally slip and stick my dick up their asses.

  I pull off my clothes and glance across at Tim and Den. Both of them sneer at me and start talking without being discreet.

  “There’s something wrong with a guy who chooses man ass over sweet pussy. He better not come near me.”

  “Yeah, it would be good if Coach gave him… like, his own room to change in.”

  Tim throws his head back with laughter. “Yeah, maybe he could change with the girls. Since he has no interest in pussy.”

  A few quiet chuckles resonate from different parts of the changing room. Aaron glances over at me, a frown crossing his face. Another player, Garratt, looks at me, he also seems concerned. I’m not a fighter, or naturally argumentative so I won’t say anything. There’s no point. You can’t teach the ignorant. Anyway, if I started an argument it would escalate quickly. Tarrant would get involved, and with his training in boxing, he could do some damage, or worse, he could go to prison. Nope. I turn my back on them and continue changing.

  “You think he’s ever fucked a girl?” Den questions.

  Solomon, our captain, and Casper walk into the changing room and straight past me. They both already have their gear on, which means they must have been on the field with Coach. I don’t let myself look at Casper. I don’t want him to see my pain, my anger, my truth.

  “I bet he’s still a virgin in every sense of the word. Unless he’s had a little bumfuck,” Tim replies laughing again.

  “Enough!” Solomon orders.

  Immediately everyone is silent.

  He doesn’t mention what’s been said, not once. “Listen up, this here is Casper Somerville, he’s the new Tight End. Get your asses up and out on the field.” He looks around at everyone as they stare back silently. “Now!” he shouts, and there’s a rush of commotion as the changing room empties out.

  Solomon turns to me. “You okay, Reigns?” he asks. I look past him at Casper, who’s staring at the floor.

  I shrug. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

  He grabs my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You need me to do anything just let me know. I never know whether to call them out or not.” He links his hands together, entwining the fingers, and places them on top of his head. “I’m never sure if that would make it worse for you?”

  I give him a half grin—it’s all I can manage right now. “Don’t worry. I know you have my back, Sol,” I reply nonchalantly.

  Solomon walks toward the exit. “You coming?” he asks Casper, who nods and jogs forward. As he passes he looks at me, his eyes are filled with… interest.

  Well, that’s a new one. I smile to myself as I lace up my boots before heading out.

  Everyone seems confused when I run on the field grinning.

  There’s a buzz around school the next day. Part stupid, part smart, the student population don’t seem to feature in the gray area between. I keep my head down for most of the day, avoiding everyone and focusing on our game tomorrow. Once football practice is over, I take a quick shower and rush trying to dress so I can get to my truck, Betty. I want to take a run, it’s what I often do the night before a game, draining myself of energy and nervousness. It’s the only way I can be sure to have a full night’s sleep.

  “Caden.” My eyes close as my body grinds to a halt, and I hear the footsteps approaching my back.

  “Hey, Casper,” I reply, opening my eyes as he comes into view. I want to see him, I do, but the last thing I need is for him to be in my headspace when I’m trying to rid myself of nerves. He’s a walking, talking temptation. One who is either emotionally unavailable… or clueless.

  “You going already? Thought you’d be coming to the party tonight,” he questions, rubbing the back of his wet head. A few splashes of water sprinkle the tip of my nose and my mouth. I lick my lips and his breath hitches while his eyes follow the movement.

  “I don’t usually go to the pre-game party, only the post-game one,” I lie. His eyes are still on my mouth. He coughs, and the muscle in his cheek jumps as his gaze falls to the floor. “You want me to come?” My voice is hoarse, my throat constricting the air to my lungs, at the same time my heart seems to constrict the blood pumping through my veins.

  Casper digs his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunch forward, and he gives me half a shrug. “I guess. I mean you could help me land Talia Chapman.”

  I snort out my disgust. “You know she’s been with half the team?”

  His cheeks pink slightly. “Yeah, well…” He doesn’t offer anymore.

  I sigh. “Sure, come on...” My reply tastes ugly in my mouth. I no more want him to go and hook up with Talia than I want to visit with my dad. I know though—as his eyes meet mine and he smiles—that he doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want any of them. I’m not sure if this is a game to him, or if his fear is winning out, but if he thinks he can play me, he’s barking up the wrong tree. “Let’s go,” I tell him confidently, not allowing another word from his mouth as I march to my truck.

  This was a mistake. Casper is talking to Talia, whispering in her ear, and she’s laughing in response to something he’s said. I need to get out of here, but I can’t seem to get my body to agree with my mind. The pre-game party is held at a bar and not the football frat house, so that gives me more opportunity to slip away.

  “You look bored.” The deep voice sweeps behind my right ear, and I turn away from the Casper and Talia show to acknowledge the face connected to the words. I’m met with a slightly tan, blonder version of James Franco. Blonde’s not usually my type, but damn he’s hot.

  “Do I?” He doesn’t miss the teasing edge to my voice, and his lips curve up, rewarding me with a bright, wide, smile.

  “Adrian.” Holding his hand out to me, I slip my fingers into his hold, and our palms kiss hello.

  “Caden,” I reply, grinning.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  “A beer would be good, thanks.”

  He nods toward the bar, and I turn to walk with him. The moment I move something draws me in, and I can’t stop myself glancing over to Casper. His
eyes—fixed on me—are narrowed, a frown sitting contentedly across his brow as Talia now whispers into his ear. Firmly, he pushes her away, her face contorts with surprise. I come to a stop as his body turns toward mine taking three steps in my direction. My breath catches, my fingers curl into themselves—crescents no doubt making patterns on my palm from the nail imprints—while I’m frozen watching him. I don’t know what he wants to do—what he’s about to do. It’s all washed away when he tentatively steps back and then back again. Casper gives himself a sharp slap to his cheek, and without looking at me anymore, he turns back to Talia and reigns her in. Picking up where he left off with her whispering in his ear again.

  “Caden?” Adrian’s voice is distant, and I drag myself back to the real world.

  “Coming.” I smile.

  I’ve been chatting to Adrian for an hour. He’s still hot as hell, but there’s not much between his ears. Plus, I can see his ego is as big as his body. I bet men usually fall at his feet. Still… there’s something to be said about being pretty, and I need that right now.

  Adrian drags me to a quiet corner, and I know why, but I don’t stop him. I can still see Casper from where I am. Worse than that, Casper can still see me. His eyes scan the room a few times when I move from the bar—he obviously misses us leaving. When they find me, I can see momentary panic followed by relief in his eyes. Very quickly his face changes to anger, but I’m sure it’s only hiding his fear.

  Adrian starts attacking my neck, sucking and licking. I look over his shoulder and across the room. Casper meets my stare, a flash of anger bursts in his eyes. He doesn’t pull away from our stare, it’s almost like he’s locked in a trance with me. Talia curls her fingers around his chin, and pulls him from our lockdown, but not before she looks over to see what’s captured his attention. When she spots me, her cheeks pink with embarrassment before she’s back with him. She says something, and he glances over at me again, shaking his head. Another string of words tumble from her mouth, and it seems like Casper cusses before pulling her hand from his arm and storming off. Talia flicks her eyes to me and frowns, before walking in the opposite direction. I realize I’m done for tonight, and pull away from Adrian.

  “Sorry, this isn’t in me tonight,” I tell him.

  Adrian blinks a couple of times and stretches his arms up with a yawn. “Another time?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  With a nod he ambles away, quickly becoming swallowed by the crowd.

  “Hometime,” I tell myself.

  Walking into school on Monday, our game against Collingwood at the weekend is still the hot topic. For me, this weekend was a mixture of pleasure and pain. I got smacked up pretty bad during the game but survived as usual. The pre-game party was something else. I met Adrian, watched Casper like a stalker, and realized something set in cement. He wants me, he craves me, but I don’t think he’s willing to give into who he really is, not just yet. I chose to stay away from the post-game party on Saturday night. I didn’t want to feel like shit again, watching Casper with some girl he doesn’t really care about.

  I texted him yesterday. He gave me his number a few days after we met, but yesterday was the first time I’ve used it. He never replied. As I head toward AP English, I walk a little slower hoping to see him. My body tingles with recognition when I spot him standing at his locker chatting casually with Aaron. Making my way over to them, it’s fascinating seeing Casper’s body become alert as I near. Smirking to myself, I join the two of them.

  “Great game on Saturday, Reigns,” Aaron says fist bumping me, even though he was on the damn field playing beside me.

  “You too.”

  “You seen Morgan today? I was wondering where she is, I need to talk to her.”

  “Nope. Not today, sorry, bro,” I reply, and he grins, gives us both chin lifts and stalks away, no doubt to search her out.

  I look at Casper to see he’s staring at me. His back faces the lockers, my body is twisted toward him, meaning nobody can see my face. I let my eyes run the full length of him, they linger on his mouth, and I smirk. “Hey, what’s up?”

  Casper doesn’t reply, but his eyes trail over my lips then drop to my neck. I know he sees the hickey that Adrian left on the right side when his jaw clenches. His eyes jump back to me, but there’s a hardness in them, a protective barrier.

  “It’s simple, stay out of my way, Reigns,” Casper growls the threat at me. The anger simmering in his eyes once again hides what’s under the surface—his fear.

  “You’re scared, I get it.” Hesitantly I place my hand on his arm. “I am, too.” Letting those words loose—to him of all people—frightens the shit out of me. The muscle in his arm tenses under my touch and he throws my hand off.

  “You know fuck all. I’m not gay, and I don’t need you hovering around me like a fangirl. The only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now is because we’re on the team together. Now stay outta my way.”

  My arm sways limply by my side as I watch him stride away. I understand Casper’s internal struggle. I get the denial, pain, fear, and unease. What’s worse is this is only the beginning. Accepting yourself is the first hurdle. It’s the start of the journey.

  Six months ago Casper’s words would have been a huge knock, they would have sent me spiraling.

  I’m more self-assured these days, though, and as I watch Casper retreating, all I can think about is how his white tee clings to his back, that his black jeans are tapered at the waist and just tight enough so I can see the curve of his ass. I smile to myself as he turns the corner. This is going to be fun.

  There’s only so much avoiding someone you can do in college, especially when you share classes and a football team. Casper hasn’t taken long to realize that small fact. Either that or he thinks his little toddler tantrum has settled the nature of our relationship. Maybe he believes he’s managed to box up his feelings or bind them somehow. He needs to let go.

  Freedom is gained through understanding and acceptance.

  He sits next to me in art and tentatively nods a hello. I stop myself from smiling and instead opt to mimic his nod. I don’t want to appear desperate for his attention, I also don’t want him thinking his little speech earlier was okay. Wrinkles appear between his eyebrows as a frown forms. He opens his mouth to say something, but I turn away, cutting him off and letting him stew in his own words for a bit.

  Getting lost in my drawing is a treasure. I’ve always loved art in every form. The ability to create something, to bring an idea to life through pictures, words, photos, sculptures, it’s a blessing. Personally, I’m thankful every day I not only appreciate art but that my drawing skills aren’t too shabby.

  The moment class finishes I make for a quick exit and thunder down the corridor heading outside. I need to take a breath, to decompress. Ninety minutes of my knees bouncing, my palms sweating and my heart trying to claw out of my chest has me craving a beer with a whiskey chaser… or two. I never knew how powerful real feelings could be. Not ever having felt this way about someone else before, means I now have no control. I’m not the driving force behind my actions anymore… maybe this is how it’s supposed to be when it’s genuine when it’s absolute.

  I lean against the wall the second I push through the double doors which separated me from the quad. It’s quiet out here, and pretty cold. Exactly what I need.

  Closing my eyes, I only have a moment before I hear the unmistakable squeak of the doors swinging open once again. Casper’s the last person I expect to see, but always the first person I think about.

  “Hey,” he mutters coming to an abrupt halt, almost surprised at my presence.

  “Hey,” I echo staring back at him. He looks uncomfortable, his eyes shoot away from mine to the door, the floor, across the quad and back to meet my stare again. The dark amber draws me in, and I can’t help my gaze flitting down to his plump lips. I curse quietly when I notice what I’m doing. Casper needs to figure out what he wants. I can’t help that
I feel this way about him, but acting on it, showing him the depth of my feelings, it’s not the time, and ogling him isn’t going to help either.

  “I’m sorry… I… I…” He fumbles over his own tongue. There’s sadness in Casper. It’s in his face, his posture, and my chest burns for him. “I was a dick. I didn’t mean to speak to you that way.”

  I shake my head. “Casper, you just have to be honest with yourself.”

  “Stop it,” he orders, holding his palm up to me. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m not fucking gay.”

  I huff out a sigh as my body sinks down to the floor. “You deny as much as you want. I see the way you look at me, how your eyes linger on my mouth. I didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to push you, but I see now…” Looking away from his eyes—because it’s too painful—I trail off, and I bite down hard on my lip, the sharp pinch relieves my frustration.

  “You see what?”

  Humorlessly, I bark out a laugh. “I see how you’re probably always going to deny your feelings—”

  “I don’t want this…” Casper interrupts, throwing his hands in the air. “And I decide my feelings,” he finishes with a croak.

  Slowly I beat back the pain of staring into his eyes, lifting my head so he can see the truth in mine. “Feelings are supposed to be pure. They’re wild, primitive, raw, and should remain that way. Existing in a natural state, that’s the only way to really love. Casper, that’s the only way to really live.”

  He’s quiet. Our eyes are locked, and realization crosses his face. I know what he’s experiencing, it’s a heart-stopping moment. I understand it because I’ve lived it.

  “You know you can’t go back, right?” I tell him.

  “Go back?” he quizzes.

  “To before. To only a moment ago, when you were really in denial when you believed you could change who you truly are. Now your consciousness has recognized your soul. You can’t backtrack, can’t lock up the truth. All you have now is the lie… it’s your choice whether you live in it or not.”