Pepped Up and Ready (Pepper Jones #3) (9 page)

“You should get an x-ray. I know a really good doctor for running injuries.”

He stops short when he notices me cringing at the “I” word.

“It’s not an injury. I can still run.” More banging in the kitchen.

“Well…” Ryan drawls out the word, like he knows he’s walking on thin ice. “Why don’t you come in and use the UC pool for a few days? You can do pool running while you let your shins heal.”

“Pool running?” I ask skeptically. Sounds like fake running to me.

“You’ve never done pool running? I do it all the time. It’s great when your legs are trashed. I can get you access to the pool and show you.”

If I’m going to be able to run with the Oregon team on Saturday, I’m going to have to do something. Maybe this isn’t a horrible idea. Technically I’ll still be running, just in the water, or whatever. And I can still lift in the mornings.

I agree to meet him tomorrow. He can’t meet me until evening because he has his own practice in the afternoon. I’ll have to stop by Coach Tom’s office to tell him tomorrow. Just sore shins. Nothing major. A few days of pool running is the smart thing to do. Maybe Ryan can get me access to the pool in the mornings too, and I can do it twice a day.

Feeling better that I’ve got a plan, I respond to the Oregon assistant coach, letting her know I’m looking forward to the trip. Telling Jace about Oregon will be easy compared to telling him about pool running with Ryan.

The odor of chlorine follows me up the stairs to Jace’s dorm late Monday night. Despite a hot shower and thorough hair wash, the scent from the pool lingers on my skin. I’ve changed into sweats and discussed my plan to spend the night with Gran. She doesn’t think it’s wise to make it a habit, but she’s never been one to impose rules.

My hope is that by surprising him with a sleepover, it’ll make up for my pool date…no, not date,
session
…yes, that’s better, with Ryan. When we met at the pool at 7:30 tonight, there were only a few lap swimmers and the overhead lights weren’t on at full brightness. Running with one other person has a certain intimacy to it – either shared silence or, guaranteed with Zoe or perhaps girls in general, shared chatter. Pool running in bathing suits (I pulled out my Speedo from sophomore year gym class) takes the intimacy thing a little further. Not
that
kind of intimacy, just, you know, a shared sense of purpose or experience or whatever.

I hadn’t spoken with Ryan one on one like that in a long time. It felt good to catch up. He told me about his new team, his upcoming meets, how cool it is to finally be able to train with guys who are faster than him. I told him about Zoe, how she’s taken on the social scene with an all-consuming energy and she isn’t as into running as she used to be. Jenny is our number two runner now, but the rest of the varsity girls aren’t very strong, and we probably don’t have a shot at winning State again this year. The boys’ team might, I told him, with his younger brother already one of the top runners as a freshman.

Pool running turned out to be a good workout, and while I felt my shins – I always feel my shins these days – the pain wasn’t excruciating. We imitated the jogging motion in the deep end of the pool until it closed at 8:30.

We kept the conversation away from Lisa, or Jace, or anything too personal. It was a huge relief when Ryan told me he wouldn’t be able to meet me for every pool session, but he got permission from the front desk for me – after speaking with Coach Tom – to come in whenever I want. If Ryan was meeting me every day to pool run, I’d practically be spending more time with him than with Jace, which would be quite problematic.

The door to the common area of Jace’s four-bedroom dorm suite is wide open, and Frankie sits with their two other roommates on the couch playing a video game. This scenario is typically what’s going on when I’ve left Jace’s dorm to head home on other weeknights over the past few weeks. But the four girls perched around the couch in clothing that could be called sleepwear, but would more accurately be labeled lingerie, is a new addition. My jaw drops. What have I walked in on?

The girls stare at me. The boys say hey but keep their eyes glued to the television, engrossed in their game. I straighten my spine, knowing this is no time to show weakness. The girls introduce themselves. I’ve seen the one named Savannah before, first at the Tavern with Clayton and then at the Theta Kapp party. She’s at least six feet tall, which makes her hard to forget.

“We live in the suite below these guys,” a girl with pigtail braids tells me. “We’re on the soccer team.”

“Cool.” I say the word and hope I act it. I thought this was a guys-only dorm, but I’m not going to show these girls my ignorance. Must stay strong. “I’m just going to head in there,” I say quickly, pointing to Jace’s closed door. “Nice to meet you!” I call, already heading that way.

“He’s not there, you know,” Savannah says, rather bitchily, if I might add. She’s incredibly muscular and her aggressive glare gives me chills.

“Yeah, I know.” Since when did I lie like this? I totally thought he’d be back from dinner with his mom by now. He doesn’t know I’m coming over, so I can’t blame him for running late. I continue walking to the door, feigning confidence. But that becomes significantly harder when I turn the doorknob and realize it’s locked. I didn’t know Jace locked his door because he’s always here when I am. Just great.

Taking a deep breath, I turn around and find a table to lean against while I wait. Because there’s no way I’m leaving now. If only Frankie would finish his stupid game and save me from these girls already. And I’m pissed at Jace now. Not for being late. But for telling me his dorm was all guys. Ironically, his lie about this makes it a lot easier for me to tell him about Oregon and Ryan, and I let myself gain confidence in that. He kept something from me he thought I wouldn’t like, so we’re even.

The four soccer girls aren’t even pretending not to watch me so I do the same. I’m getting a lot better at this game. I learned quickly that having a tougher skin would be essential to being Jace Wilder’s girlfriend. One of the girls is long and lean like me. She has frizzy black hair and soft blue eyes and clearly has a crush on Frankie. Her curiosity in me doesn’t last long before returning to him. The shortest of the four – which isn’t saying much because the other three have at least a couple inches on my five foot six height – is perched strategically close to Jace’s quietest roommate, Timothy. But Savannah and pigtails haven’t stopped eyeing me and I’m struggling to maintain my composure.

What feels like hours but is likely only minutes or even seconds later, Jace walks into the room. He takes in the scene quickly before finding me, his eyes lighting before he breaks into a grin and walks quickly my way. He picks me up and kisses me right in front of everyone and the tension I’ve been carrying melts away. I can’t quite reach around his backpack for a full embrace, but after a you-don’t-matter-to-me wave at the girls (the guys grunt hello, still oblivious to anything but the TV), Jace unlocks his door and we’re alone.

“This is a nice surprise.” He holds my hips and takes me in from head to toe. “You smell like the pool.” He raises a dark eyebrow.

“I went pool running today to let my legs recover from Saturday’s race.”

“Oh?” Jace knows there’s more to it and he’s waiting patiently for me to explain. This isn’t our normal routine, and the concern in his gaze fills me with both love and guilt. He thinks I’m here because I need him to talk about what’s up with my training, but that’s only a small reason I’m here. I do need him. Always. But I also need to confess.

Instead, I take the cowardly route, and start with an accusation.

“Those girls told me they live downstairs. You told me this wasn’t a co-ed dorm.”

“I wish it wasn’t,” Jace says with annoyance. “Those girls are always dropping in. I thought I’d heard it was guys only in our dorm, but I was wrong. The guys and girls are on different floors instead of intermingled on the same floor like the other dorms. That’s the only difference.”

“Why didn’t you say something? Don’t you think that’s something I’d want to know?”

Jace frowns at me, his hands still on my hips. “Not really. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I’m pretty much never here, unless I’m sleeping or with you. I usually study at the public library in my mom’s office. You can’t actually get any work done at the college libraries. People everywhere.” Annie is a librarian at the Brockton Public Library.

“Or here, if those girls are always around,” I add. “Do they come over every night?” They looked pretty comfortable, and I’m not usually here this late at night.

“Yeah, the soccer and basketball girls live here and they stop by a lot, but it’s just to hang out with the other guys. I’ve gotten a reputation as never being around or having my door closed. There’s no privacy around here, Pep, it sucks.”

His hands drop lower and he pulls me to him, and I realize he doesn’t even feel guilty for keeping this from me. And he’s right, it shouldn’t be a big deal. But it feels like one. Maybe if I approach my news with the same attitude he did…

“So I also have something-you-probably-won’t-like-but-isn’t-a-big-deal to tell you.”

Jace’s hands drop now. “Okay, now this sounds like a big deal.”

“I’m going to Oregon this weekend,” I blurt.

“Okay,” Jace replies, a question in his voice, like, is that all? He knows me too well.

“Yeah, you know, I just really want to see the school and learn about the program a little. For the experience, not because I really want to go there.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says again, nodding.

“Really? It’s okay?”

“I’m not going to give you a hard time for visiting other schools, Pep. I get it. Yeah, I’m probably going to worry about you loving it so much somewhere else you want to go there instead, but if that happens, we’d figure it out.”

“What?!” Jace would be okay with me leaving the state? We’d never see each other. Like,
never
. We’d definitely break up then, wouldn’t we? And he’s acting like it’s no big deal.

Jace sighs, rubbing his messy dark hair and face. “I mean, I’m not going to be a controlling boyfriend. I have controlling tendencies and I’ve gotta do my best to rein them in.”

“Where is Jace Wilder and what have you done with him?” Jace is never self-reflective like this, and if he is, he never shares those thoughts with me.

Jace smiles sheepishly. “My mom and I have been having some good talks. She’s giving me a lot of good advice.”

Whoa. I had no idea. This is what Jace has always wanted. A mother-son relationship. When she moved here months ago, he sought her approval and went out of his way to spend time with her. But he always kept a barrier there, which frankly I was happy about, because I didn’t want him to get hurt if she left again.

I’m strangely a little jealous that he’s been having deep conversations with his mother. Not so much that they aren’t with me – some conversations aren’t meant to be between boyfriend and girlfriend – but that he has a mom and I don’t. Mine died when I was so young I don’t even remember her, besides what Gran tells me. I love Gran and she’s been there for me, but she’s not my mom. Jace has two real parents now, and a brother. And who do I have?

“Hey, relax.” Jace takes my hands. “I hear it rains all the time in Oregon. You’ll probably hate it.”

I guess he can’t always read my mind. He thinks I’m worried about where I’ll go to college.

“And also, it was Ryan who got me in to the pool today and showed me how to pool run.”

That gets the reaction I predicted. The familiar jaw clenching and green eyes narrowing.

“And I’m not sure what Annie would advise, but I get it if this pisses you off. He should be keeping his distance, you’re right. And that’s true no matter how he feels or doesn’t feel. But, well, I did need to do something about the pain in my legs, and this was a good idea.”

“Yeah, I really don’t fucking like it,” Jace says honestly.

“Look, he was just trying to help, and he won’t be joining me again. I have access to the pool on my own now and I know what I’m doing.”

“You mean this wasn’t a one-time thing?” Jace’s grip on my hips is becoming uncomfortably tight, but I don’t say anything.

“Well, with him it was, but I need to pool run all week so my legs are recovered enough to run with the Oregon team this weekend.”

“What’s going on with your legs anyway, Pep? I’m starting to worry here. Do you need to see a doctor?”

And I lie, again, saying it’s nothing serious, just a little soreness. I can practically hear Gran banging pans in the kitchen.

“Look, I know I’m biased here, but I have to say this. Sometimes I think the good guy thing Ryan has going on is just an act.”

“What?” Sure, Jace has a right to be wary of my ex-boyfriend who remains on the peripheries of my life because of all we’ve got in common, but this comment is just petty. And Jace has never been petty before.

“Just, maybe don’t trust his intentions too blindly.”

Now I’m not only feeling slightly insulted, but I’m put in the awkward position of feeling compelled to defend my ex-boyfriend in front of my current boyfriend.

“Can we talk about something else?” I ask instead.

Jace pulls me onto his bed and we lie there, his hand slipping easily under my clothes and resting on my lower back.

“Wes came to dinner tonight with Annie.”

“Yeah?” I grasp onto this subject change.

“Yeah, they’ve interacted a couple times but never really like, intentionally, you know? And he
is
my brother, even if through weird circumstances that sort of required dad cheating on Annie, but yeah, it seemed right she should get to know him a little. Maybe you can come to our next dinner?”

“I’d like that.” My feelings toward his mom have warmed significantly since she first arrived, which means they are still only lukewarm. She might have good intentions but she left her son once before, and as Jace would say, I’m not going to trust so blindly. I’d give him the same advice he gave me about Ryan, but telling someone who already doesn’t trust easily not to trust his own mother seems like a really bad idea.

“I wish you’d spend the night again. It wasn’t so bad sharing such a small bed the other night, was it?”

“You’re in luck,” I whisper in his ear. “I’m yours until 8:05 first period.”

And with that, my sweatpants are gone and thrown against the door, the rest of the world forgotten.