We Super Shouldn't: Complete Enemies to Lovers Romance Series Collection

by Jamie Knight

  Super in Love Book 3

  Copyright © 2019; All rights reserved.

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

  Chapter One

  Jameson

  I get to The Leviathan’s locker room, and there’s no one else here. Not surprising since I’m in super early today. It’s all because I want to get in some extra practice. In fact, I need to get in the extra practice. Being out for half of last season really took its toll.

  I messed up my shoulder in a car accident last fall and it shattered. Several surgeries later, my shoulder isn’t totally back to one hundred yet, not to mention I’m feeling a little stiff. I’m hoping an extended warmup will help.

  My physical therapist told me I’m all healed up, so I must just be rusty. There’s no more pain or anything, but something feels off to me still. Every time I lean in to make a tackle, I get a tingling sensation. My therapist told me it might be psychosomatic, but I’m not buying that. Either way, I won’t let that hold me back. I don’t want anyone thinking I can’t keep up with them anymore or that they need to replace me with a younger linebacker.

  I head for my locker, but something else catches me eye. I think there’s another person in here already. I’ve never seen any of the other guys get here at this time, but I have a feeling it’s not another player. And I wouldn’t be so weirded out by another person if they weren’t sprawled on one of the benches a few feet away. That’s extremely bizarre. There are places to lie down if someone’s here late at night, so deciding to sleep on a bench is an odd choice.

  I go over to inspect and, as I get closer, I see what looks to be a girl. Oh dear god, I hope it’s not another crazy fan! We were supposed to be beefing up security this season for this exact reason. How in the world did she get in here?

  As I get even closer to her, the second thing I notice is that she has no shirt on. Fuck, this is not good. Should I wake her up? I feel like I shouldn’t touch her. Especially if she’s some crazed fan. However, she ended up here, it cannot be a good situation. Maybe I can leave her there for someone else to deal with. It’s not like she’s my problem just because I got here first.

  I try to go back to my locker to get ready, but my eyes keep wandering back to the passed-out girl. She looks so helpless. What if there is something seriously wrong with her? She seems to really be out cold or sick. I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if that’s the case.

  Ugh! I can’t just leave her there. That’s what a total asshole would do. I’m on this mission to be a decent person — I’m trying to change my image from a playboy jerk — and a decent person would help her.

  I put my duffle bag down and wander back on over to the bench. I kneel down to figure out what’s going on with her. I’m surprised this girl hasn’t woken up yet. It’s not like I’ve been particularly quiet. I poke her in the shoulder, but that does nothing. Not even a single stirring. She must have drunk a shit ton of alcohol if she’s not waking up.

  “Hey!”

  I’m starting to get legitimately concerned. I check her pulse and then her breathing. They both seem steady, so she’s alive. That’s good that I’m not stuck with a corpse, but I’m still here with an unconscious, shirtless, unknown girl. Maybe there’s something else going on besides her just being drunk.

  I continue to try and shake her awake, but she’s unresponsive. Did someone slip her something last night? I need her to become conscious. Like immediately. There are a lot of questions that I have. What should I…?

  Finally, I pick her up. I’m going to need to get a lot more hands-on if I want any results. Maybe some cold water will get those eyes open.

  I get us both into one of the showers and turn the knob. A cold spray falls from the showerhead. I’m used to soaking in ice baths, so this is nothing to me, but the girl in my arms jolts awake.

  “Oh my God!” she sputters.

  Her hands go up to protect her face, and then I think she realizes my presence because she starts trying to wiggle out of my hold. I don’t let go because I can tell she’s still a little woozy. Eventually, she stops struggling, and I turn off the water.

  We’re both soaking wet which is annoying the hell out of me. Like I’m glad I helped whoever this is, but this is not how I thought my day was going to start. She’s mumbling something incoherent and hasn’t started supporting her own body weight, so I place her back down on the bench. She’s still getting her bearings, so I leave her be for a little bit.

  I need to get out of these wet clothes. I take off my shirt, throwing it the floor. I might just end up throwing it away since it’ll sit in my locker all day, getting moldy. I look around for my duffle, but realize I left it over by my locker. Ready to walk over and get myself a shirt, I stop when I hear some more serious rustling behind me. I turn around to see the fan girl sitting up, her palm pressed against her forehead.

  “What happened?” she slurs. Her brown eyes are a little hazy, and she’s swaying. I kneel back down to her level and put my hand on her shoulder to keep her from toppling over. This girl must be going through quite the trip.

  “What’s your name?” I ask loudly. I need to make sure she’s somewhat cognizant.

  “Um, Jenny?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “Jenny. My name is Jenny.” Her hand and eyes drop.

  I didn’t mean to sound like a dick, sometimes it just comes out. She feels more stable, so I remove my hand from her shoulder. Then, I realize she’s still topless. I turn away and back up a few feet, not wanting to make Jenny uncomfortable. She must be having a mini panic attack waking up in a locker room topless with some guy. I can be sympathetic to her situation. I grab a random towel and hand it over. She takes it, wrapping it around her torso.

  “Well, Jenny. Do you know where you are?” She shakes her head. “I see. Well, you are in the locker room for the New York Leviathans. I’m not sure what happened to you or how you got here. I walked into the locker room this morning and found you here. Do you remember what happened before you got here?”

  She moves the hair from her face and bites her bottom lip. Maybe she doesn’t want to tell me. There’s no real reason for her to trust me. I mean, if she’s not a fan girl who brought herself here then, what actually happened might be a lot more daunting. Maybe she’s worried I’m the one who put her here.

  “Um,” she starts, “I was having a drink with my roommate and her friends. It was weird they were being so nice, but she said it was meant to be an olive branch, an apology for the whole cheating incident.”

  “Cheating incident?” Maybe she’s from the nearby college, NYU. A lot of the students like to come to the games.

  “It’s nothing, really,” she dismisses my question. “But,” she continues, “still, it was nice, or so I thought. I mean, Carrie’s never been that nice to me. I was so dumb to think that it was the start of a more cordial relationship between us. I mean, I must be a special kind of dumb to have let this happen.”

  “It’s not your fault that someone decided to drug you.”

  She finally looks back up at me. It’s the first time I’m really looking at her face, and she’s really pretty. Red wavy hair frames her face which is soft, with pink cheeks and a slightly pointed chin. Her eyes are deep brown and friendly with long dark lashes. I could see myself trusting her almost immediately. Her eyes have this searching quality, like she knows a lot more about me than I know about her.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she half-smiles with full pink lips. “Still, our history should have been a clue that she was up to something.” She crosses her arms over her chest, grabbing onto her shoulders, and folds into herself a little. “The last thing I remember is feeling tired, and some hazy memory of being moved. My guess is the four of them left me here.”

  Her story is definitely interesting, but I’m not sure if it’s the truth. It sounds way too crazy. Is it way too crazy to be true, or is it way too crazy for her to
have made it up? I’m more on the side that she’s just doing this for attention. It’s a strange way to get attention, but not everyone is logical at all times. Still, would someone really roofie themselves? I’ve heard stories of fans going totally wild, but that feels insane.

  “I should get going,” her tone suddenly shifts, and she frowns at me.

  Maybe my annoyance is palpable. I try to relax my body language by dropping my shoulders. I’m not against her leaving, so I’m going to let it happen, but, when she stands up, her legs are a bit wobbly.

  “Shit!” I exclaim as I grab onto her and keep her from faceplanting on the ground. My hands go to her waist, tightening. Even though I’m touching her over a towel, I’m already enamored with how her body feels.

  Jenny is really hot and curvy, and, if this was six months ago, I may have tried to get her number or something, which would have been utterly inappropriate, but that’s not who I am anymore.

  Her eyes dart back and forth, starring right back into mine. Her nails are digging into my shoulder. Her cheeks turn a deep red.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Her shoulders bunch up, and she tries to stand up on her own. It takes a minute, but Jenny gets on her own two feet. She tightens the towel around her breasts, and I get my first good look at her form. I wouldn’t mind if the towel dropped right now, but, once again, it’s not even a functioning factor at the moment. What I need to do is get her out of here before anyone shows up and takes all of this the wrong way.

  Either way, I’m here to focus on my carrier. A crazed fan is not going to be a worry of mine today.

  “I need to get you out of here,” I tell her.

  Jenny nods, and I’m about to get both of us a dry shirt so we can finally leave, but the door opens and literally every single one of my teammates walk in.

  “Shit,” I mumble.

  Jenny immediately hides behind me, but it’s not good enough to keep the team’s eyes off of her and the semi-nude sKramer she is in.

  “Ay, Irish Whiskey, who’s the broad?” Marvin, the quarterback, asks.

  It’s an unfortunate nickname, given my drunken behavior last season, but I’ve come to terms with my team hating me. I’m not friends with anyone, thanks to my own damn actions. They all think I’m some punk kid, but I can’t blame them. I definitely did things that would make most people think I’m a massive jerk.

  I was one for a long while.

  “What’s going on?” Coach Kramer’s voice booms throughout the locker room. He pushes himself to the front of the crowd.

  “That’s what we’re asking Jameson over here. We found him huddling with some random chick.”

  This is not going to go well for me. I already see the phones coming out, and I know that whatever pictures and videos they take will end up online and on T.V. with whatever media spin. That is the last thing I need right now.

  “Really, Kendrick! Another girl?!”

  “Coach,” I try to appeal him.

  “I thought you were trying to be better this season?” he ignores my plea. “What’s this nonsense? I’m not against kicking one of my best players off the team if you’re going to fall into old patterns this easily.”

  I don’t know what to say. My brain is scrambling for an explanation.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Coach Kramer asks crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  “Yes,” I answer, but then stop.

  “What is it?”

  “Jenny is,” I pause, waiting for the perfect way to get out of this, and then, it pops into my head. “Jenny is my fiancée.”

  Everyone in the room is surprised, including me. I can’t believe that lie popped out. Thankfully, Jenny remains fully quiet behind me, not outing my deception.

  “Really?” My coach’s ire has died down, and, now, he just sounds confused.

  “Yeah, she was feeling sick and threw up on our way over here. Since we were closer to the stadium, I thought it would be easier to clean ourselves up in here. She was dropping me off, and it seemed like the easier choice.” One good thing from my bad boy days is that I am an excellent liar.

  The upside of calling Jenny my fiancée is that all the phones are put away. At least we won’t have to deal with a media circus. One small godsend.

  Coach Kramer walks over to me and pats my shoulder. “Oh, sorry son. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I should have known you’re putting forth the effort. You have been working really hard these past few weeks.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “Why don’t you take her home? Make sure she’s all good and safely in bed.”

  I’m surprised Coach Kramer is being so understanding. He’s been busting my balls ever since I’ve been on the team – which is mainly my fault – but this is a nice change of pace.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll come right back once I drop her off.”

  “No problem, son. See you in a bit.”

  The whole team disperses, getting ready for practice. Jenny is still hiding behind me. She must be so confused. From one problem to another.

  “Come with me.”

  I grab her hand and direct her to my locker. I grab a shirt for each of us, quickly pulling mine on. Jenny just stands there, tightening her hold on the towel while holding the shirt I gave her. It’s not hard to figure out that she’s a little shy about being shirtless in a room full of dudes. I pull out another towel and hold it up to shield her.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles.

  Jenny unwraps the towel from her body, and I avert my eyes to give her privacy.

  “I’m done,” she whispers.

  I throw all of my stuff into my locker and have ‘my fiancée’ follow me to the car. I have no idea why she’s going along with all of my shenanigans. It could be because she is so shocked. Or maybe she hasn’t fully come around from being roofied. Either way, this could dove tail horribly.

  And, by that, I mean come back to bite me in the ass.

  However, the bigger question is who roofied her. I’m still not sure if I believe her roommate tale. But I’m not about to question her about this again. If she wants to use that story, I’m not going to open that pandora’s box.

  We get to my car, and I unlock the door. Jenny seems a little hesitant to get in. She’s, understandably, been acting pretty weird this entire time. It could be the fact that I lied and told everyone we’re about to get married. But she also might need someone to look at her. I don’t know how roofies affect people, but I also feel like this is something a doctor could help out with.

  Once we’re both settled in the car, I turn to Jenny. She’s sitting stiffly, looking out the windshield. I feel like she’s deliberately trying to ignore me. So, I just keep staring. Her eyes slowly settle on me.

  “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

  I’m pretty sure she is lying to me. Just moments ago, she could barely stand on her own two feet. There’s no way Jenny isn’t still feeling out of it. I mean, we’re both fairly confident she got roofied.

  “Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal.” Even if it’s a slight inconvenience, I’d rather know that this girl is okay.

  “I’m seriously okay. Just take me to my dorm. I live on campus.”

  I shrug because if she doesn’t want to go, I can’t make her. She’s a grown woman, and I am merely here to get her to her destination safely. I mean we’ll need to have a conversation about everything that went down in the locker room, but my number one concern is taking her back to her place.

  I head towards NYU, but I know I won’t be able to just wash my hands of this. Jenny is now my fiancée. I’m going to have to see if I can fix this little problem I made for myself.

  Chapter Two

  Jenny

  I can’t believe I woke up in a cold shower with Jameson Kendrick, the football star. Of all the people who could have found me in this mess, it was Jameson friggin’ Kendrick. I hate hi
m! And of all the embarrassing things to happen to me, I had to find myself getting soaked with that guy. Just all the ugh!

  He must think I’m so pathetic. I feel pathetic. I AM pathetic. I can’t believe I let Carrie get the best of me. I’m supposed to have my guard up. And now I can’t even think. My head is still a little fuzzy. I should probably go to the hospital and get myself checked out, but I don’t want a whole bunch of people asking me questions. And, if they find out I was roofied, they might want me to call the police. I just can’t, not today.

  And why would Carrie do this to me? I know she’s mad at me for not letting her cheat off of me and everything, but we’d been avoiding each other. It’s been tense, but tolerable. How am I going to get through this situation now that I know my roommate roofied me?

  She ROOFIED me! Like, what the hell? What kind of fucked up thing is that?

  “Why did she put you in the Leviathan’s locker room?”

  “Huh?”

  I was so in my head, fake yelling at Carrie that I totally missed Jameson’s question. Or I heard it, but I just need a second to get my head back on straight.

  “I was just wondering if you know why your roommate would leave you in our locker room?”

  I could think of a few reasons. One of them is the fact that Jameson and I went to high school together — something he has clearly forgotten. Carrie doesn’t know how deep my bitterness runs for him, but she does know there are some hurt feelings. Whenever we’ve spoken about the Leviathans, our ‘discussion’ always devolved into talking about Jameson. He’s her favorite player. He’s a lot of people’s favorite player. And he’s a good linebacker, but I can’t get over the block in my mind that I have regarding my feelings for him.

  And I have tried.

  Plus, he doesn’t even remember me. I could tell from the look on his face that he thought I was just some random girl he found in the locker room this morning, so what’s the point of doing a deep dive into the past.