Chapter 4: Tiffany, Part 2

His eyes get wide and a blush runs up his neck as he takes in my appearance. I smile at him. "You decided to come. I was wondering if you'd show up. I'm glad you're here."

"I…um…" he seems to have a hard time figuring out what he's trying to say. "I'm sorry. I should leave you alone to get dressed."

He turns around but I call out to him. "Wait!" He stops but he doesn't turn back around. "It's okay, Rowen. I'm not embarrassed or anything."

"No, but I kind of am."

It never occurred to me that he would be so modest. Most of the players just see a naked girl at a party and go for it. I mean, that's kind of what we're here for. It stumps me. And confuses me. And I find it kind of sweet.

"I didn't realize this would make you uncomfortable." I shift my feet over the edge of the bed so I can stand up. "Just give me a second." I take a minute to throw my jeans and red Mutiny jersey on. Once I'm sufficiently covered up, I let him know. "Okay, you can turn around now."

He turns slowly to look at me and I can see a sigh of relief when he sees I'm fully clothed. "Thanks," he says. "I wasn't expecting you to be, um..you to be…"

"Naked?" I ask with a smile.

"Yeah," he says in a rush and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Wanna sit?" I walk towards the small table and sit on one of the chairs. He takes a second to think about it, but finally follows my lead. His movements are stilted and slow. Like he's still not quite comfortable with the situation. "You can relax," I say. "Just because we're in here doesn't mean we have to have sex. We can just talk, too."

He nods his head and bites his lip. I watch as he looks around the room, observing, just like he did at the bar. I've never met anyone who enjoyed seeing the things most people don't pay attention to. It intrigues me and makes me wonder what kind of things he discovers about people, without being told. Finally, he speaks. "So you're a groupie."

I look at him for a second too long, trying to answer him. It's not as simple as answering yes or no. "That's what some people would call me."

"What do you call you?"

"A fan."

"A fan," he deadpans.

I shrug. "A super fan?"

He smiles. "I guess that's probably more accurate."

"Because I have sex with some of the players." This conversation is starting to piss me off. I don't have to justify my actions with him or anyone else.

He looks up, startled and the blush is back. "I'm sorry," he says softly and pulls his beanie off his head, revealing a shock of red hair. The color reminds me of Carrottop. But Rowen is much more attractive than the red-headed comedian. "I'm not meaning to sound judgmental or anything. I know there is such a thing as groupies. But I've never actually met one, I guess. You're just so different than I imagined."

I pull one knee to my chest and rest my chin on it as he pulls his beanie back on. I'm surprised that he hasn't done this before. I assume he's been playing soccer all his life. Has he not been going to parties? I can't imagine college ball is much different than pro in this regard. "How did you imagine me?"

He takes a deep breath and looks at the far wall. "I guess I just envisioned someone who looks more like a street walker, that no one really talks to, just sort of drags to a back room to have sex with."

"You make it sound so dirty."

He shrugs. "You've really never met a groupie before?"

He looks at me and shakes his head. "I didn't start getting invited out until a few weeks ago. I guess I haven't had time."

"But not even in college? There are college groupies, too."

"Oh no!" He raises him hands in a defensive position. "My coach was really strict with how we handled ourselves on and off the field. No way would something like that fly."

I smile. I find that I like his innocence. Some of the players do seem to take advantage of the situation. I mean, I like sex so it's not like I ever turn many of them down. But they aren't all sweet, like Rowen. Or even as nice as Santos. They're mostly like…well…Mack.

"Can I ask you a question?" he says, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on his knees. "Why do you do it? Is it fun? I mean, you're so beautiful. And a loyal fan. And probably smart and witty and…why are you letting those douchebags treat you like this?"

I sit stunned. No player has ever asked me this before. They just assume I'm here to have sex. I want to answer his question honestly, but suddenly I don't have an answer. I must pause for too long as I think about it.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to offend you or anything…"

"No. No it's okay. I understand," I say. "I just never had anyone ask me that before. You caught me off guard." I wait to see if he's going to take it back, but he doesn't. So I try to be an honest as I can. "I like sex. I think it's a great stress reliever. I think it has amazing health benefits. And I just…like it." I shrug. "These guys here are my friends. They're my boys. I know you think they're douchebags, and yes, a lot of them are. But they're also my friends. So it's like having friends with benefits."

Rowen smirks. "That's a lot of benefits." I catch the playful tone in his voice and smile at him.

"It can be. But only if I'm up for it. No one's forcing me to do anything."

He sits back and I watch his face. I know he's thinking but I'm not sure about what. Finally he speaks. "I'm not like them. I don't do the friends with benefits thing."

"That's okay," I say quietly. "I like just having friends, too."

He looks me in the eye and I feel my breath catch. It's like he isn't just looking at me, he's looking inside me. At the very depths of my self. It's almost frightening.

He stands up slowly and points to the door with his thumb. "I think I'm gonna go…"

I can't help the disappointment I feel, but I put a smile on my face before answering him. "Okay. I'll see you at the next game?"

"Yeah. I'll see you then."

The door closes quietly behind him as he leaves. I let out a deep breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I've been around these guys for five years. Since I was eighteen years old. And never has one of them affected me like he does. Rowen Flanigan is going to be trouble for me. I just know it.

I look up when I hear the door open and Nate Funderling walks in. He saunters towards me with a grin on his face. He leans over the chair I'm in, hands resting on the arms, essentially locking me in before learning over to kiss me, hard and wet and sloppy. And I kiss him back. When he pulls away, he looks me in the eye and smiles.

"Hey Tiffany. Wanna rock my world tonight?"

I smile seductively and pull my shirt over my head, throwing it on the floor.

Because it's what I do.