18. Chapter 18

T he first month of school is officially over. September has transitioned into October. If I were back in Ohio, I'd enjoy the changing foliage as leaves take on golden-brown hues and temperatures start to drop, entering cool, crisp days.

But alas, I'm in Texas, where fall isn't a season.

Practice this morning was brutal. Coach had us outside running through drills as if it were summer camp and we were conditioning before moving us inside the facility for a light scrimmage. The team has been on a roll, as we are still undefeated for the season after winning our first five games. While we've won games, the scores have been close, which Coach isn't too happy about. It turns out that since winning the championship, we've plastered targets onto our backs.

Cleats click sharply against the pavement as we jog from the indoor practice facility to the locker room. Groans and grumbles filter into my thoughts. Between football and the coursework for year three as an agricultural business student, I feel drained. Last season, we seemed to find more time to party, but as classes get more challenging and external factors begin to weigh in on everything, fun seems to be taking the back burner.

I follow the guys into the locker room and immediately start stripping out of my sweat-soaked T-shirt, followed by my compression shirt .

Conversations start as I pull out a change of clothes before making my way to the showers. I'm halfway to the showers when an idea pops into my head. A slow smirk slides across my face, and I rush through my shower.

Shoving through the doors, the Texas sun greets me as I move across the parking lot toward my truck. Thumbing through my contacts, I hit the name I was searching for as the phone begins to ring. Unlocking the door with my fob, I climb into the pickup and start the ignition, waiting for the call to go through.

"Hello?" Her voice is a hushed whisper as it connects to the Bluetooth.

"Rebel, what's your schedule look like?" Tilting my head against the headrest, I close my eyes. I think I could sleep for a week if the opportunity presents itself.

"I'm almost to my first class. I have a full day. What's up?"

"Dammit. I was going to see if I could steal you away for the day."

She hums. "I think I can make that happen."

"Really?" I can't contain the excitement in my voice.

"Yeah." She giggles. "Anything for you."

Rubbing my chest, her words brighten my day. I think it's safe to say I'm gone for Bret Campbell. I'm just waiting for her to catch up.

"See you back at home."

"See you soon." We hang up, and I shift the truck into gear before peeling it out of the parking lot.

Once I'm back at the complex, I rush out of the truck before climbing the stairs two at a time. I'm desperately trying to beat the guys home to steal Bret away without them being any wiser. It's a little after nine, so I caught Bret before her first morning class, and we can spend all day together. I have the perfect day in mind and am excited to finally take my girl on an actual date. As much as I love our stolen kisses and late-night sleepovers, I'm ready to spoil her.

The door opens before I have a chance to turn the knob, and standing in front of me in a band T-shirt with some kind of sheer lace long sleeve underneath, destroyed denim shorts, and Doc Marten boots is my girlfriend.

She looks over my shoulder and skims the parking lot from where she can see. The coast must be clear because Bret grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me into her. Her mouth finds mine as her hands move to the back of my neck. Her fingernails scrape my skull as she skims through my hair.

I reach behind her thighs and lift her. Her legs wrap around my waist instantly as I move us inside the apartment, kicking the door behind us as I press her against the wall. Our tongues continue to duel, and the moan she lets out has my body responding. She grinds against me, and I'm fighting the urge to take her into my bedroom. Slowing down, I pull back slightly and pepper her skin with tiny kisses.

"Dammit, Rebel. As much as I'd love to see where this goes, I want to get you out of here before the guys come home and question us." She sighs, and I smile, placing one last kiss on her lips.

She slides down my front and cups my erection through my shorts. "You sure I can't take care of that for you?"

"Later, baby." I groan, tipping my head to the ceiling. "Let me change my clothes, and we can head out."

Bret tips her head. "Where are you kidnapping me to?"

"It's a surprise, but plan on being gone all day." I jog off to my room with a quick peck to her forehead.

The almost hour-and-a-half drive to San Antonio has been smooth, as traffic has been light. Bret has been playing DJ on her phone as we've enjoyed a mostly silent drive. It's been comforting not to feel like we need to fill the drive with conversation. We talk when something pops into our minds, but the conversation never feels forced.

It turns out Bret is a big music fan. I assumed that, but it was confirmed when she played DJ. Her playlist ranges from Mac Miller to Cage the Elephant to MGK and even some classic rock, which I am a big fan of.

I watch from the corner of my eye as Bret leans forward to read the road signs. "You're taking me to San Antonio?"

"I am. Have you ever been?" She shakes her head, and I smile at the fact that we'll both be able to experience something new together.

Navigating through the city streets, our eyes bounce from each side as we take in the new city. People mill along the streets as cars merge. The GPS guides us down the busy road as we search for a Tex-Mex restaurant to stop at for lunch. I didn't grab anything to eat after this morning's practice, and I'm starving. My stomach has been growling for the last thirty minutes.

We find a taco joint on the west side of the city. Turning into a parking spot, we both move to get out of the truck. Bret raises her arms above her head as she moves her body side to side, stretching. The two of us meet in front of my truck, and I reach for her hand, which she instantly takes. Bringing our joined hands to my mouth, I plant a soft kiss against her knuckles.

"Damn, it feels good to hold your hand in public." Her eyes shimmer as her dazzling smile widens.

Crossing the street, I hold open the door to the restaurant. As we both step inside, we're transported back in time. The older wood decor looks to be original, and we read sign after sign praising the establishment for its puffy tacos, whatever those are.

"Welcome y'all," the hostess greets. "Just the two of you joining us for lunch?"

"Yes, please." Bret tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear as the hostess gathers menus before leading us to the table. She places the menus down and informs us the waiter will be right with us.

Scooting her chair closer to the table, Bret opens her menu and begins perusing the items. "I'm so hungry I think I could eat a whole cow."

"Now that's something I'd like to see." I chuckle, reading over the menu.

"Don't doubt me, Crew Riggsby."

"I'd never."

A few moments later, the waiter appears with glasses of water. Sitting them down in front of us, he smiles and welcomes us. "What can I get y'all?"

Bret twists so her attention is on the older gentlemen. "We are first-timers, and I'm dying to try a puffy taco. Can I get three beef tacos with lettuce and tomato and a side of rice?"

The waiter nods as he writes down her order before turning his attention to me. "I'll do two beef, one barbeque, and one chicken puffy taco with rice, beans, and french fries."

Bret quirks an eyebrow at my order. "I'm starving."

Our waiter leaves, and we scan the room. It's a unique space with antique jukeboxes, artwork, and even an old car on the inside.

"If you could have any food for the rest of your life, what would it be?" Bret leans her elbow on the table, head resting on her hand as she stares at me. Her eyes are alive with a light I've never seen before .

Tapping my fingers on the table, I ponder all of my options. "Damn, that's a tough one. I guess I'd say a burger."

"Really?"

I shrug one shoulder. "Yeah, I mean, you can fix it up in so many ways. Add a fried egg for breakfast, load it with lettuce and tomatoes for lunch, and slather on the barbeque and bacon for dinner. The possibilities are endless."

"Valid point."

I tip my head toward her. "Your turn."

"Smothered burrito," she answers without hesitation, and I laugh at how fast she says those two words.

The waiter arrives, and our conversation pauses as he sets down the multiple plates. The savory smell immediately hits my senses, and my mouth salivates. The tacos are piled high with meat, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese.

"These look amazing." Bret's eyes widen as she reaches for a taco. Mouth wide, she shoves the tortilla into her mouth and moans around the bite as shreds of lettuce and pieces of tomato tumble onto her plate. I'm stuck watching her, mesmerized by how she doesn't hold back. Bret Campbell is a girl who likes her food. Just don't ask her to cook it.

A few hours later, Bret and I find ourselves below the street level as we meander around the San Antonio Riverwalk. Tourists bustle along the crowded sidewalks, milling in and out of stores, stopping to gaze at colorful murals, or sitting at cement picnic tables. Popular chain restaurants and bars line the buildings as bridges take you to and from each side of the river.

"I've got a question for you." Bret tilts her head in my direction from where we are walking hand in hand. "What's the funniest joke you know by heart? "

I quirk an eyebrow at her. "Damn, Rebel, you're really putting me on the spot today."

Moving us off the walkway, I pull her into me so that her back is to my front as we watch a boat pass by. She rests her head against my shoulder as we enjoy the silence. Leaning closer to her ear, I whisper the joke. "Why do quarterbacks tell obvious jokes?"

I pause and wait. Bret takes a moment before she shakes her head. "So they don't go over their receivers' heads."

A giggle bubbles out of her as she turns in my arms. "Oh, Crew, that was terrible."

"Yeah, but it got you to laugh."

"That it did." Bret leans up on her toes and gives me a quick peck on the lips. We both smile at each other, and I'm glad I was able to steal her away for the day.

"My turn. If you could spend the day with three people, dead or alive, who would they be and why?"

"Shit, you thought you were put on the spot." Bret nibbles her lips as she ponders the question.

The two of us lean against the metal railing, basking in the late afternoon sun as smells from the many restaurants filter around us. Soft music plays from the speakers attached to light poles.

"Mac Miller, so I can thank him for being a musical genius and for his lyrics, which always get me out of my head, Paul Walker for blessing us with the Fast and Furious franchise, and Pat Summitt for being an icon in women's basketball." I hum. "I just realized all of those people are dead, which is terribly depressing."

"You picked some great people to meet."

She smiles. "What's next?"

"Ice cream."

Her emerald eyes widen. "Ice cream? How are you hungry? "

"Rebel, there's always room for ice cream."

Reaching for her hand, the two of us resume our stroll down the Riverwalk in search of an ice cream parlor. We pass tables with umbrellas of the Texas state flag, parents corralling their children, and unique craftsmanship with Spanish mosaic details. A storefront with a large waffle cone sign comes into view.

"I knew we'd be able to find ice cream." Reaching for the handle, I pull open the door, and the air conditioning blasts us as we enter, sending a chill down our spines. Bret shivers, and I wrap my arms around her shoulders, tucking her into my side.

After we order our treats—caramel ice cream for Bret and chocolate peanut butter for me, both in waffle cones—we weave through the crowd until we find a vacant bench.

Watching Bret's pink tongue flick out and lick up the creamy treat has me needing to adjust my pants. She twirls her tongue as she laps up the melting ice cream before sucking the top into her mouth.

Her laugh interrupts the moment. "How are you holding up over there?"

My eyes snap to hers as a smile breaks free on her glowing face. "Were you doing that on purpose?" She nods. "You're going to pay for that, Rebel."

"I hope so." She winks before returning to enjoying her cone in a much less seductive way. The rich chocolate mixed with the creamy peanut butter coats my tongue.

"Not that I want to put a damper on this day, but how has everything been with you know…" My words trail off.

Bret's shoulders stiffen slightly. "It's been radio silence."

"That's good, isn't it? "

She shrugs, and I'm surprised by her gesture. "I mean, yeah, of course, it's great. I'm also worried that it's just a fluke, and I will spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."

My hand squeezes into a fist. "I promise that as long as I'm by your side, you'll be safe, Rebel. No motherfucker is going to make you feel less than safe by tormenting you."

"Thank you." Her words are soft as she lays her head on my shoulder.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Bret and I explore San Antonio. We visit The Alamo and the world's largest pair of cowboy boots. She takes selfies and pictures throughout our journey. I've loved watching her let her guard down and laugh in ways that fully encompass her. She radiates a sense of happiness as she's unabashedly herself as we spend time in our little bubble. Neither one of us has a care in the world. It was the perfect day, and as the sun started to set, I hated that our time was ending, at least for today.

The bright Texas sun began to lower in the sky, replacing blue skies with golden hues. Reluctantly, we climbed into my truck and started our journey home. Both of us were completely exhausted but filled with joy.

As we approach the campus exit, I hear a seat belt unclip. Doing my best to keep my eyes on the road, I glance over and find Bret moving around in her seat. With her elbow propped on the center console, she adjusts herself until she's leaning into my space.

"Rebel, what are you doing?" Concern is evident in my voice as my eyes bounce for the dimly lit road to my girlfriend.

Instead of using words to reply, her hand palms my dick over the zipper of my shorts. My nostrils flare at the implication of what she's planning. Before I can say anything, her delicate hand finds my waistband as her fingers work to unfasten my button. Blood rushes to my cock which is straining against the seam, begging to be released.

"Rebel," I groan.

"Relax, Crew. You concentrate on not crashing, and I'll concentrate on getting you off." Bold Bret is my favorite Bret.

Her hands slide inside my shorts and underneath my boxer briefs. As she works my shorts down, I try to lift my hips to allow for the fabric to free and slide. My cock springs free, and her hand wraps around my growing erection.

"Fuuuck."

I'm mesmerized by the way she pumps my cock in her hand as she manages to hold herself steady with her elbow. Her hand, wrapped around my cock, moves up and down in a twisting motion as she jacks me off. Images of her licking her ice cream flicker in my head, mixed with the anticipation of road head, has my cock leaking. If I'm not careful, this moment will be over before it even begins, and I'm not ready for that.

Bret's lips find my neck as she sucks the skin into her mouth while her hand continues to work me over. She trails kisses from my jaw down my neck to where my T-shirt meets my collarbone. Her position shifts over the center console, removing her lips from my neck as she lowers her head. She licks my thick dick from root to tip as I tip my head back against the headrest, and a moan leaves my lips.

Swirling her tongue over the crown, she laps up the moisture gathering at my tip before her perfectly plump lips wrap around the head of my cock as she sucks my length into her mouth. I hit the back of her throat, her underestimating the size of me, and she pulls back slightly.

"That's it, Rebel. Your mouth feels so good." She moans around me as I remove a hand from the steering wheel to brush her hair out of her face. I want to watch her suck on my cock .

Her head bobs as he sucks me deeper into her mouth while her tongue flicks at my crown, and her hand pumps where her mouth doesn't reach. Bret gives excellent head. Using my free hand, I run my fingers through her loose hair, allowing the tendrils to twist around my fingers. Gripping the back of her head, I help her bob up and down on my cock.

A deep moan leaves her pretty lips as saliva drips down my shaft. She uses the moisture as lube as she continues to moan as I jerk my hips.

"I bet if I reached inside your shorts, I'd find you drenched. Does sucking my cock make you wet, Rebel?" She nods her head as she hums—the vibration spurring my impending orgasm. I can feel my balls tighten at the need to come.

"Such a perfect, pretty mouth. Fuck, Rebel, I'm going to come."

Her head nods, encouraging me to come in her mouth. And with another long, hard thrust into her mouth, I'm spilling inside her. Bret's tongue continues to trail up and down my shaft as my orgasm bursts, coating the back of her throat. When she's swallowed every last drop, she pops off my cock. Leaning on my shoulder, she smiles at me, an evil gleam in her sparkling eyes.

"Thanks for the perfect day."