A slang soccer term meaning: fake out, deceive, confuse your opponent
See examples Daniel Zavaro and Quincy Watson:
As the rising star in Houston, Daniel has found fame as Captain of his Pro soccer team and the city’s most eligible bachelor. Daniel has everything – except someone special – and that suits him just fine. He doesn’t want, or need, complications.
Quincy has baggage, and lots of it. After a tragic accident spins her world on its axis, she finds herself as a single mother, raising a newborn nephew she never knew she had. Between parenthood, her full-time job, and dealing with the suffocating grief of losing her sister, every day is a struggle.
When they begin to cross paths unexpectedly and often, an unlikely friendship starts to evolve. Feelings change. Lines get crossed. What happens next surprises them both…
Before they know it– they’ve been Juked.
“I really do recommend it if you’re in the mood for a good, witty sport-romance with great characters, a great storyline and a baby! Did I mention that the baby is the cutest thing ever?<3” – Goodreads Review “4 out of 5 “I Might Just Start Watching Soccer” Blushes” – Goodreads Reviewer “4.5 stars!! Quincy, you inspire me. Daniel, you grew on me. Chance, you stole my heart. This book was beautiful, and EVERYONE should read it.” – Goodreads Review
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, changing subjects and breaking the tension. “Before you called, I was going to catch up on Outlander. I’m several episodes behind.”
“Fine with me,” I say. “I’m used to those soft-porn shows.”
“Soft-porn shows?”
“You know… Outlander, Game of Thrones, True Blood. Soft porn.”
She scoffs at me. “We’re watching Starz, Daniel, not pay-per-view.”
I lean back and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Baby, the only difference between Starz and porn is that actual porn doesn’t have a plot or as big a budget.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Soft porn,” she grumbles under her breath. She picks up the popcorn and puts it on the couch between us.
I snap up a handful and toss some in my mouth as the review of the last episode plays and the credits roll.
Adult language. Adult situations. Brief nudity.
That’s what the parental ratings warn us of. It is so, so wrong.
The first thing that pops up on the screen is a woman on a bed and a man is with her. With his head between her legs for a very long time. And now there’s nipples, lots and lots of nipples. And his head is still between her legs.
“Still trying to convince yourself it’s not high-budget porn?” I joke, trying to break the sexual tension that has sprung up again.
“Oh my god, this is so awkward,” she replies, eyes still on the screen. Her ears turn bright red, which is apparently her version of a blush. She looks so uncomfortable.
I sip my beer and munch popcorn, ignoring the woody in my pants from imagining that it’s Quincy and me on the screen. When all else fails, insert humor. “Man, he’s really going at it, isn’t he?”
“Would you shut up?” She laughs and smacks my arm. “This is weird enough without you making jokes.”
“Sorry. I’ll just sit here quietly while we watch the non-porn.” She rolls her eyes but smiles anyway.
“Mother, reader, storyteller – ME Carter never set out to write books. But when a friend practically forced a copy of Twilight into her hands, the love of the written word she had lost as a child was rekindled. With a story always rolling around in her head, it should come as no surprise that she finally started putting them on paper. She lives in Texas with her four children, Mary, Elizabeth, Carter and Bug, who sadly was born long after her pen name was created, and will probably need extensive therapy because of it.”
