Don't Kiss the Quarterback: Billionaire Academy YA Romance Book 5

by Catelyn Meadows

  Charly surveyed the situation with a wide stance, arms folded, and a sleek, catlike, pleased expression on her wicked face. A sick feeling told me she’d played a part in this. Had she egged Carson on? Told him to sabotage me and Tate? I couldn’t ignore the truth resonating with the thought. Jenn had warned me. Heck, even Charly’s threat in the practice hall was a warning.

  Tate made a play for Carson again, but the tall guy with dark skin and hair held him back. “Enough,” he said. “You could both get pulled from the team and we need our quarterback and linebacker.”

  “What’s your problem?” Tate asked over the guy’s shoulder to where Carson was being restrained.

  Carson spat blood on the sand and shook off the other guy gripping his shoulders. “My problem is you’re all over the new girl and not giving any of us a shot.”

  “B.S.,” Tate said. “And you think you’ll have a shot with her after throwing her phone in the fire?”

  “You’re talking about her like she’s up for sale,” Charly scoffed, elbowing through.

  Tate’s glower deepened. “Don’t act like you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  I hated standing aside while they talked about me like I wasn’t there. Even still, I didn’t exactly have anything to say. All I knew was that I wanted to leave, as quickly as possible.

  I didn’t know many of the others here, but I was mortified. This was why I stayed on the sidelines. This was why I kept a low profile. This was why I never stepped out of my safety zone.

  How could I have forgotten so fast?

  Jenn came to me, brow pinched in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just...” I forgot she was here, but I’d never been so relieved to see anyone in my whole life. I rubbed my arms. Uncontrollable flushes of heat made me feel like I was going to pass out. I had to get out of here. “Did you drive here? Can you take me back?”

  “Yeah, I think this party is shot,” she said.

  While the others continued arguing and laughing, the two of us slinked away. I followed her foot placement on the rocky incline and hiked behind her to the parking lot. Shouts carried across the beach as people continued arguing. I couldn’t care that I was abandoning Tate after he’d stood up for me. If it hadn’t been for him, I never would have been in this situation in the first place. Now I’d not only lost my reputation and had a target placed on me, but I’d lost my phone too.

  Fortunately, Jenn didn’t offer any I told you sos about Charly, but I felt them collect between us during the drive back to the school just the same. I was so stupid. I’d gotten blindsided. Never again would I let boys or popularity get in the way of my priorities.

  I wanted to call my mom, to demand she let me come back home and finish out my senior year in Rexburg. But I didn’t want to give up my voice lessons—plus, oh yeah, my phone was currently getting burned to a crisp.

  Football was life for Tate, but singing was that way for me. I wasn’t born to be a nuclear physicist. Brains or not, music was in my soul, and it was time I put my focus on school and singing where it belonged.

  Forget the sizzling chemistry that had lambasted me with every one of Tate’s glances. I’d overlooked Carson completely with Tate standing so close to me, which only testified of how foolishly fickle my heart was. I couldn’t trust it and that was enough to know I was done with them all. I skipped out on homework and studying for this?

  No more boys for me.

  Chapter Ten

  Too bad that whole no-more-boys mantra didn’t work because the pesky beings were everywhere. In my classes, in the halls, walking out of the dorms, infesting the sidewalks and the bistro. They were unavoidable. From the looks I’d gotten and the images popping up on social media over the weekend—shown to me via several sophomore girls who also lived in the dorm—I was getting even more attention than I’d thought I was after the serenade.

  Dinner at Dad’s on Sunday night got cancelled. Laurel’s design company was being featured on an HGTV episode for On the Block. I’d seen the fixer-upper show a few times, and begrudgingly I had to admit Laurel being interviewed for the work her company recently completed on some warehouses in downtown Seattle was impressive. Their cancellation suited me just fine, though. I wasn’t ready for anything one-on-one with Tate again just yet.

  Monday morning, stomach grumbling, I shuffled into the bistro for breakfast. My first few days here, I’d meandered around in search of groups to join, but the prospect of approaching them, introducing myself, hoping for acceptance or risking their likely rejection was more than my fractured soul could handle.

  But since Tate’s kiss and since the bonfire, the tables had completely turned. Girls flocked around me, so many I didn’t know how to handle all the attention.

  “Tate and Carson fought over you?”

  “What happened to your phone? Did he really throw it in the fire?”

  “Can I be your best friend?”

  I no longer needed my courage to make friends with these people. Now I needed bravery to know how to respond, to hone my poorly developed social skills and act like I had a clue how to handle my situation. I thought of my favorite characters in books and how they might handle a similar instance—but I mostly read fantasy where the main character inevitably had some hidden traces of magic to help her conquer her world. I had no hitherto unknown mystical powers in which to brandish my revenge or bury my feelings.

  I pictured myself as Camryn. She would know exactly what to say. She’d talk about photography and boys and whatever was on her mind. And that would work for her.

  I was still tongue-tied. What was I supposed to say now?

  Charly and the other cheerleaders and a few girls I recognized from A-PUSH and choir glowered at me.

  “I—I’m just getting some breakfast,” I finally said to the gaggle of eager gossipers. I made for the pickup line as quickly as possible, grabbed my tray, and loaded it with pancakes, sausage, and eggs. Jenn Adkins waved me over. I sensed every eye on me but ignored the penetrating stares and made my way to her. Ear pods filled her ears, but she plucked them free at my approach.

  “You’re popular this morning,” she said. She looked pretty with her dark braids dangling down one shoulder and soft makeup accentuating her obsidian eyes.

  “Yeah, that’s a first for me. How come everyone intuitively knows?” Thanks a lot, social media.

  “Are you okay?” Jenn asked as I sat across from her. “I know Saturday night was a huge rush, with Carson and your phone and everything.”

  I rubbed a hand over my forehead. “I’m—I don’t know. It’s not even that I lost my phone. I feel like I’ve lost something else that matters so much more than that.”

  “If you’re about to say your dignity...”

  I pushed some eggs around on my plate, but while everything smelled tantalizing, my appetite was suddenly gone.

  “I’ve just been on this rampage. The minute I got here I forgot who I was or something.”

  “Maybe you’re just trying to find out who you are,” Jenn suggested, chewing her breakfast.

  I speared a sausage with my fork and took a bite. She made it sound like I didn’t know already. But I knew who I was. Or at least I thought I did. I was Bailey Anne Monroe, hopeful singer, kid genius, shy out of necessity and preference. Serenading boys, kissing them, pretending to date them and having them fight over me? I didn’t know that girl at all.

  “Is there any way to delete those pictures?” I asked. “And the video?”

  Jenn finished chewing before speaking. “Not unless you track down every single account, and by now it’s probably been shared all over Seattle.”

  I plunged my head into my hands. “What do I do?”

  Jenn rested a hand on the table between us. “Bailey. You’re looking at this situation the wrong way. Girl, you had two guys rolling in the sand fighting over you. And not just any two guys—two of the hottest seniors on the team. You may be mortified right now, but I’m pretty sure e
very single girl in this school wants to be you right now. First you sing to Tate and get a kiss in return, and then he invites you to the coveted bonfire. And then this.”

  She flashed her phone at me. A picture of Tate and Carson glaring at each other had the caption, “She’s off limits, boys!” followed by an image of me hiking up the rocks.

  “You’re telling me this is a good thing?” I asked.

  She lifted a single shoulder. “I guess that’s up to you, but this could totally be a good thing. Think about what you want. You transferred here this year, so there must be a reason—other than your daddy paid the school to accept you.” She laughed.

  I didn’t laugh. I couldn’t. “Is that what your dad did?”

  She quirked a stenciled brow. “That’s what everyone’s dads did to get their kids here. This is one of the most coveted schools in the country. You’re beyond lucky to be here. Now you have to decide what you’re going to do.”

  To my surprise, her words were a balm. I nodded my head and let them sink in. I was here. And considering the most incredible choir class and private lessons I’d ever had in my life, and the fact that I had a shot at Professor Granger’s blog feature, I was lucky.

  But how in the world could I possibly use this situation to my advantage? Nothing came to mind, and our conversation turned. Jenn and I joked about how our Calculus teacher, Mr. Crane, had so many girls in there just so they could gawk at him—though we both denied the notion for ourselves—and about how glad she was I gave her an excuse to leave the bonfire.

  I had ten minutes to get back to my room, grab my books, and make it to first hour Calculus. That ten minute’s rundown did not include more time spent with my wicked stepbrother, but Tate was lingering outside the bistro, looking suave and a bit devilish with the bruise on his cheek and the cut across his forehead. Made me wonder what Carson looked like this morning. I hadn’t seen him since the bonfire.

  Tate’s expression both brightened and turned a guilty kind of sour at the sight of me. “You took off,” he said, inching closer to me. “I wanted to call you but...”

  “I’m kind of without a phone. Yeah.” I still wasn’t sure what to do about that. I couldn’t press charges, not when none of us were supposed to have been where we were Saturday night. It might cause more problems than I wanted to deal with.

  I stared at the shiner near his left eye. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He tapped the spot and then winced. “It was worth it.”

  Rolling my eyes, I headed toward my dorm room. Tate tagged along, backpack over his shoulder. “I can’t believe you,” I said.

  “What? I was defending you.”

  I stopped before my door. “Why? I thought all of this between us was fake—”

  “Shh,” he said, waving his hands. His gaze darted around. Several people glanced our direction.

  I checked my tone. “I thought it was fake. I thought you didn’t want our parents to find out. I thought...” I didn’t know what to think. “Why did you do that? Fight him like that?”

  Tate flicked his hair. “I just lost it. He had some nerve, and here I thought I was trying to help you get with him instead.”

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter, right? At least Charly saw your daring leap on my behalf. That’s the point of all of this for you, right?” I tucked my hands behind my elbows while a desert took over my throat. I should have been flattered, but the reminder of our ridiculous agreement made me feel more idiotic than ever.

  “I wasn’t even thinking of her at the time.” Tate’s eyes fixed right on me with intensity. I scanned them for sparks of truth, and their passion and directness brought a blush to my cheeks. How could he have missed Charly’s self-satisfied smile when Carson tossed my phone into the flames?

  “Why do I not believe you?” I said. Overhead, the bell for classes chimed. I pulled on my sweater vest, wishing I could tear the thing off and just wear a normal shirt. “Look, we’re both going to be late. I don’t think this is going to work anymore, okay? You do your thing from now on. I’ll do mine. Before we know it, those pictures will be old news.”

  “Bailey. At least let me get you a new phone.”

  I turned to walk backward toward my class. “No, thanks. My dad will probably send a car for me later.” Or he would if I asked him to. I hadn’t exactly told Dad what had happened yet, but I knew he was my best chance at getting a new phone. This required doing something I swore I never would. I had to call him. I was looking forward to that conversation about as much as a person wants tabasco sauce poured in their eyes.

  The hallways after class were a zoo. People applauded as I walked past. A couple younger girls stuck up their noses at me, but others flocked to me the way they’d done during breakfast, searching for details.

  Carson strolled into our AP American History class, nodding his chin in my direction as though not a single thing had happened. He swaggered down the row.

  I ground my teeth, my nostrils flaring. I wanted to spew every nasty thought I’d ever had in his direction, but I had no safety net here. I didn’t need to create any more scenes. After class, I slipped away to the office to make a painful phone call. Dad assured me he would have a car waiting.

  Tate tried again to talk to me after choir, but I deflected and took the long way around to the front of the school. The last thing I needed was to be caught under the smolder in his expression.

  Chapter Eleven

  Because the sleek, black Porsche was the same car that had picked me up my first night here, I expected the ride to consist of just me and the driver. To my surprise, Dad was at the wheel. Not in a suit, but in jeans, complete with baseball cap.

  Slipping into the passenger seat, seeing Dad casually dressed in jeans and his hat, brought its own pang along with it. This could be any other time. Back before Dad left us. When we were still a family.

  “You want to tell me how you lost your phone?” he asked, one hand resting on the gear shift between us.

  Boys fighting over me. One of those boys being Tate, Dad’s wife’s son. Not a conversation I wanted with him. “Not really.”

  “You can talk to me, you know.” Dad gave me a defeated smile as he wove his way through the parking lot. “I’m still the same.”

  I sank against my seat and hugged my backpack, which was still in my lap. “You’re not. You drive fancy cars and live in mansions and have a different wife. That’s not the same guy I’ve known my whole life.”

  “Bailey,” he chided.

  “What? It’s true.”

  Signal clicking, Dad waited for several cars to pass before turning onto the main road. “Is that why you wouldn’t sing for Laurel the other night? You sounded great at the game, by the way. Why didn’t you tell us you were singing?”

  I hugged my arms around my chest as if trying to keep myself together. “I don’t know.”

  “Laurel won’t bite, you know. She is very nice.”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  “She—”

  “I went to a bonfire with a group of jocks and cheerleaders,” I blurted, not liking the conversation’s direction. “Tate invited me, so I went along. While we were there, I tried taking a selfie of Tate and me, and one of the guys from the team tore my phone from my hand and tossed it into the fire.”

  Dad slammed on his brakes a little too hard at the stoplight. “He did what? Who was he? Sounds like I need to contact some parents.”

  I reached for Dad’s shoulder and thought better of it. “Please don’t. I’m just praying this whole thing will blow over.”

  “What did you do? What did Tate do?” The light turned green. Dad eased forward into traffic.

  “Tate jumped him,” I said.

  “Like—he fought him?”

  I expected Dad to get angry, but he kept his attention on the road. No clenching of steering wheels or implications against Tate for his lack of self-control. Just raised brows and too much calmness.

  “Guess he’s taking me seriou
sly,” Dad finished.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I asked him to keep an eye out for you.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was both cool of Dad to care enough about me to make that kind of request, and sweet of Tate to agree, but I also didn’t want to feel like any more of a project to Tate than I already did. Was that why he’s been doing what he was doing?

  “Do you have a lot to do with him?” I asked. “Like, are you guys super close?”

  “Not exactly,” Dad said. “He endures me, but I’m glad to see he stepped up to the plate.”

  “Even if it means he could get kicked off the team?” Yesterday, I wouldn’t have cared. But today...

  Dad had a point. I got mad at Tate earlier for leaping to my defense, but he had done the right thing. Fake boyfriend status had come into play, but so had stepbrother status, and that was commendable. My appreciation deepened. I liked him a little more than I did before.

  “What about you? What did you do?” Dad asked as we pulled into the cell phone provider’s parking lot.

  “I left while they were still fighting.”

  Dad laughed and cut the ignition. “That’s my girl.”

  “You sound like you’re condoning this,” I said as we exited the car. I couldn’t help my smile under his praise.

  Dad slammed his door behind him. “Only the fact that you left when you did. Show those boys who’s got the pants on. Better yet, stay away from them altogether.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said with a defeated exhale. “Too bad they’re not getting the message.” I wouldn’t tell him how Tate had tried getting my attention several times earlier today. The truth was, this felt like old times. Contentment radiated through my bones the entire time spent browsing phones and their features. Dad made jokes with the salesman and put his arm around me as I perused my options. I settled on a thin smart phone which was insanely cooler than any other device I’d owned before.

  After phone shopping, Dad bought me a few other things and took me out to dinner. This was what I didn’t realize I wanted from him. All we lacked was my mom. That alone drained my momentary happiness. It felt weird knowing Dad had a completely different life, a life I was no longer a part of. It hurt knowing my dad was halfway a stranger to me.