Next Man Up (Making the Score Football Romance Book 2) Read online

  Next Man Up

  A Making the Score Football Romance

  Tawdra Kandle

  Tawdra Kandle Romance

  Copyright © 2020 by Tawdra Kandle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  NEXT MAN UP

  Football is our life, but love is what will save us.

  The first time we met, it was a disaster. The second time wasn’t much better,

  Eventually we became friends . . . and then we were more. But can this last?

  Zelda

  I don't do love.

  I don't do relationships.

  But then Eli Tucker came back into my life.

  The memory of my first encounter with Eli is all too vivid. Still, that was a long time and many guys ago. I’m not interested in long term or love. Men exist to fill a temporary need, and that's all I want. Even if Eli Tucker still stirs something in my heart . . . I can't afford the pain that might come from allowing him closer.

  Eli

  When I met Zelda Porter on the first day of freshman year, she seemed vaguely familiar. But I’d definitely remember a woman like her: blonde, built and beautiful . . . just my type, back when I had a type. Back when I was a football star. Back before I snapped my spine and ended up paralyzed.

  Being Zelda’s friend—and then her friend with benefits—is a sweet deal, but I want more. She might be resisting, but even if I can’t run for touchdowns anymore, I know what wins the game.

  Hold on tight to what matters most.

  Use the element of surprise to your advantage.

  Fight like hell for every down.

  And, no matter what, never give up.

  To all the strong women I’ve been honored to know and love~

  To those who have gone before us, and to those who will come after us.

  We shall persist.

  Contents

  Thank you, dear reader!

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Acknowledgements and Author’s Note

  Next Man Up Play List

  About the Author

  Also by Tawdra Kandle

  Thank you, dear reader!

  Thank you for choosing this book and deciding to read it. You totally rock.

  I’d like to get to know you better! Each Friday, I send out a chatty newsletter, with book news, sales and giveaways. You can sign up for it right here.

  Enjoy your book! <3

  Prologue

  Zelda

  “Hey. I don’t think I know you.”

  I jumped, startled at both the words murmured low in my ear and the touch of a hand on my shoulder. Considering the noise level in this place, with way too many people packed into a living room, the fact that I could hear anything was a miracle. Still, I’d been standing here, jostled by drunk, laughing high school kids I didn’t know, trying to pretend that I was having the time of my life . . . until I felt the grip on my shoulder.

  Way to play it cool, Zelda.

  Taking a breath, I turned around, pasting on my face a smile that I hoped was both confident and inviting, covering my nervousness. “Hey. I . . .” And then words abandoned me, because the guy staring down at me . . . wow. Holy hot hunk of . . . well, hotness.

  He stood close to me, holding an amber bottle of beer in one hand while the other rested on his hip, now that he’d taken it from my shoulder. Like just about everyone else at this party, he wore faded jeans, though his were paired with a gray rugby shirt that hugged the contours of his body. And what a body it was. Broad shoulders, flat stomach, narrow hips . . . my mouth went dry, and I forced myself to look up to meet his eyes.

  Not that the face part of the package wasn’t perfect, too. His hair was dark brown to the point of being nearly black, and his eyes were an intriguing shade of green.

  Those eyes regarding me now with interest and something else I couldn’t quite identify. Clearing my throat, I was about to give talking another shot when he spoke again instead.

  “No, I definitely don’t know you. I’d remember a girl with those . . .” He paused, his gaze sweeping down me from the top of my blonde hair to the yards of leg that this sad excuse for a dress showed off. “Um, those eyes.”

  I tilted my head, thinking that I didn’t quite believe that had been what he’d wanted to say. I managed to find my voice. “No, I’m not from around here. I’m just visiting for the weekend.” Scanning the crowded room, I pointed toward the corner, where two girls were chatting up a couple of other guys. “That’s my cousin, Hannah, and our friend Rebecca. Hannah and I knew Rebecca when her family lived in Lancaster, and we drove over to see her for a couple of days.”

  The guy smirked. “You’re a friend of Becs, huh? Yeah, she’s very . . . popular.” His gaze rested on her for a moment before he shrugged off whatever he’d been thinking. “Sorry. I’m Eli Tucker. Nice to meet you . . .?” His voice trailed off to give me the opening to introduce myself.

  “Zelda. Zelda Porter.” I held out a hand the way I’d been taught by my grandparents. Eli frowned at it for a minute before he took it, smirking as he enclosed my fingers within his warm grasp. I shivered a little as a thrill of something new and unexpected zinged up my arm.

  “Zelda. I love that name.” Eli stood a little closer to me. “It fits you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. And you didn’t have to tell me who you are—we were at the game tonight. You’re an incredible player. Congratulations on the win.”

  “Hey, thanks.” He rolled his shoulders. “It was a tough one, but we wore them down. Outplayed them, I guess you’d say.”

  “You were the better team.” I wasn’t saying it just to flatter him. The truth was, Franklin Township had been adequate tonight. Most of the boys on the field had played with drive and a fair amount of talent. But the quarterback . . . watching him move, running the ball over the painted white lines, cranking back his arm to throw a perfect pass . . . it had been something else altogether, like glimpsing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel after a lifetime gazing at cheap Italian restaurant murals.

  But I knew I couldn’t say all that without sounding as though I was crushing on him or something. So I only added, “That touchdown in the third quarter was pretty baller. Their defense had figured out most of your moves by then, but you caught them completely by surprise when your running back took the snap and passed to you in the end zone. They weren’t covering you at all.” I lifted one shoulder. “That was genius.”

  Eli cocked his head, his eyes widening a bit. “You know something about football, huh?”

  “A little.” I reached up to tug the strap of my dress back into place on my shoulder. I wasn’t used to wearing clothes that left so much of me exposed. Back at home in Lancaster, Grammy never would’ve let me out of the house in anything this short, this low-cut or this tight. But Hannah and Rebecca had insisted that dresses like this one were w
hat girls wore to parties here in South Jersey. And I’d been stupid enough to listen to them.

  “Does your boyfriend play football?” Eli leaned a little closer, and I could practically feel the heat of his eyes on me.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.” The words came out a little breathy, making me wince. I wasn’t that girl who mooned over boys. Or was I? I’d never met any guy like this one. “But my cousins play, and my uncle coaches at our high school. I’ve been listening to game talk around the Sunday supper table my whole life. In a family like mine, you either give in and love football or you hate it. I decided it was easier to enjoy it.”

  “I’m glad.” He was near enough to me now that when I breathed in, all I could smell was him—some kind of light cologne, the clean fragrance of the laundry detergent his mom had used to wash his shirt, and . . . was that beer? My heart was thudding against my ribs, and I hoped he couldn’t see the tremor that ran through me.

  “Glad that I like football?” I played with my silver star necklace, twining it around one finger, just to keep my hands busy.

  “Mmmmm. But even happier that you don’t have a boyfriend.” Eli reached down and touched my hair where it lay against my shoulder. “How about we get something to drink and go someplace a little quieter?” He pointed to the open front door, where people were still pouring through. “It’s only going to get louder in here.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. My cousin and Becca had disappeared—and so had the boys who’d been with them.

  “They just walked out to the back.” Eli followed the direction of my gaze. “They’re probably getting something to drink, too, and maybe sitting by the firepit in the backyard.”

  “Oh.” I gnawed the corner of my lip. “Maybe I should go check in with them. If Hannah decides she wants to leave and they can’t find me, she’ll flip out.”

  “I don’t think they’re going to take off any time soon.” He ran his fingertips down my bare arm, leaving shivers in their wake. “C’mon. If your friends decide they want to bounce, they’ll find us. We’re just going upstairs.”

  Faint alarm bells rang in my brain, but then Eli closed his hand around mine again, this time tugging me toward the hallway. Throngs of people milled around in our path, but the crowd parted like the Red Sea as Eli walked. I thought it must be nice to be someone like Eli Tucker, a person who was given automatic deference and respect.

  “Let me just grab us something to drink.” Eli raised his voice to be heard as we turned through the doorway to the kitchen. “Beer okay with you?”

  Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “I don’t like it. Love the smell. Hate the taste. It makes me gag.”

  He gave a short huff of laughter. “We don’t want that. Okay . . . well, hold on. I have another idea.” He patted the seat of a barstool that was pulled up to the counter. “You stay here, and I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  I obeyed, hooking one foot over the rung of the stool and easing onto the padded seat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Eli headed for the huge round table on the other side of the kitchen. It was covered with bottles of every size and shape, and I wondered what he planned to pick out for us. I wouldn’t know what to suggest, even if he’d asked me. I was well aware that alcohol and drugs were readily available in our area, and that my classmates indulged in both regularly. But I’d never had any interest in losing control, for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that my grandparents would kill me dead.

  That wasn’t entirely true. Grammy and Gramps wouldn’t yell or punish me if they found out I’d gotten drunk, but the weight of their disappointment would be worse than anything they might take from me. I’d lived all of my life keenly aware of how lucky I was that I’d been raised by them. I didn’t want them to ever regret doing it.

  A girl passing behind me bumped into my stool, and I gripped the edge of the granite countertop to keep from tumbling off my perch. She teetered on her feet and shot me a wide smile.

  “Sorry,” she slurred before careening into a group standing near the refrigerator. It was one of those huge professional fridges I’d only seen on television, with extra wide doors and a gleaming stainless-steel finish. I had a moment of appliance envy; cooking was something I loved to do and to watch, but there was a huge chasm of difference between my grandmother’s old-fashioned and functional kitchen and the sleek modern ones I drooled over on the cooking network.

  From what I could see of this kitchen, it was much closer to the TV versions. The granite countertops were expansive and the cherry wood cabinets plentiful. Above an enormous Aga stove hung a rack of spotless copper pots and pans. I wondered if they were just for show or if the woman who owned this house actually used them to prepared meals. Which reminded me— I’d never actually met the person who lived here. Becca had assured us that the guy who’d invited everyone was cool, with parents who looked the other way when he asked to have friends over. Still, I couldn’t imagine any adult being okay with all these kids here, unsupervised, consuming massive amounts of booze and God only knew what else. My conscious twinged.

  “Okay, we’re all set.” Eli appeared back at my side, his grin wide and irresistible. He lifted his hand, showing off a two liter of cola and a fancier bottle I couldn’t identify, along with a couple of plastic cups. “Supplies have been procured.”

  “Looks good.” I slid off the stool, and after the smallest hesitation, took the hand he offered me. “Where are we going?”

  Eli winked at me over his shoulder. “Just to a room that isn’t so noisy. Hold on tight so I don’t lose you.”

  I did as he suggested, noticing with a thrill that as we pushed our way through the crowded living room, he tightened his grip, as though he truly didn’t want to lose me. I was also more than a little aware of the way girls we passed stared at me, some with blatant hostility and others with amused expressions. I kept my gaze on Eli’s back, not making eye contact with anyone while we climbed the wide steps, but I felt my face burning, anyway.

  The truth was that even as I assured myself that I was only going upstairs to talk to Eli Tucker, to get to know him better, I could hear my grandmother’s voice in my ear, reminding me of the rules. Those rules included not being alone with a boy who wasn’t related to me and not drinking alcohol when I was underage. But then again, I was pretty sure Grammy would also disapprove of her two granddaughters attending a party at a house where there were no adults in sight—and where, if I was being honest, it was likely the owners had no clue any of us were here. Grammy probably wouldn’t think much of the dress I was wearing, either.

  But I wasn’t stupid. I knew what I was doing here. Nothing would happen—nothing that I didn’t want to happen. I’d enjoy talking to Eli, maybe have a tiny bit of the drink he was carrying, and then I’d go downstairs, find Hannah and Becca, and we’d go back to Becca’s house, where we could stay up all night, giggling over boys and eating junk food. Maybe—just maybe—I’d let Eli kiss me, and then I’d have even more to contribute to the girl talk later.

  “I think this room’s empty.” Eli nudged open a door and peered into the darkness. “Yeah, no one’s in here.” With his shoulder, he flicked on the light. “After you.”

  I stepped around him, hesitating just inside the doorway. The bedroom—because of course that was what it was—was pretty, with a muted floral comforter spread over the queen-sized bed, coordinating curtains on the windows and a plush throw rug over the gleaming hardwood floor. But for all of its charm, clearly this space didn’t belong to any one person. I surmised that it was a guest room, which made me feel a modicum better about being in here. The idea of camping out in a room that belonged to a stranger was just too creepy.

  There weren’t any chairs, but that didn’t give Eli pause. He set the glasses and bottles on the wooden nightstand next to the bed before he sat down on the edge of the mattress, patting the space next to him.

  “Come sit. I promise, I don’t bite.” As I paused, vacillat
ing, he added with a wicked grin, “That is, not unless you ask me real nice.”

  “Funny.” I sighed and moved to the side of the bed. I stayed a safe foot and a half away from Eli, leaning my butt into the comforter-covered mattress, wondering what to say next.

  “Let’s get some refreshments. I promised you a drink, didn’t I?” Leaning over, he poured the cola into both cups and then replaced the cap before twisting the top off the second bottle. He added a healthy splash to both of our drinks and handed me one.

  “Here’s to . . .” His eyes held mine, challenging and assessing. “Here’s to new friends.”

  “New friends,” I echoed, touching my cup to his before taking a sip. The cola was sweet, but whatever he’d added to it burned my throat, forging a warm and happy trail to my stomach. It wasn’t delicious, but it wasn’t horrible, either. I drank a little more, just to give myself some much-needed courage.

  “So.” Eli moved back to settle against the mounds of pillows at the top of the bed. “Tell me about you. What’s life like in—Lancaster, you said? What do you like to do?”

  I took another sip of my drink to buy some time. Describing my life at home was hardly going to impress this guy. It might put him to sleep. I tried to think of something I could share that would make me sound worldly and sophisticated, but I came up empty.

  “Well.” I eased myself up onto the bed, sliding backwards until my feet didn’t touch the floor anymore, kicking off my shoes so that I didn’t get the comforter dirty. “I live on a farm. We have horses . . . and cows. And goats.” I pictured the endless acres of waving grass and the rolling hills which were now aflame with trees that bore changing leaves. “It’s the most beautiful place, I think. I mean, I haven’t been many places, but for me, it’s like heaven.”