Team Player 2: A Sports Anthology

by Paige, Rochelle

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking up at me like I’m an insane person.

  “Taking you to the health center.”

  “It’s just a cold or the flu,” she argued. “Put me back in my bed.”

  “You need medicine, Hals.”

  She was pissed, but she didn’t fight me after that. I’m assuming it hurt too much to talk, and she knew her efforts would be in vain.

  She cuddled into my chest, seeking my warmth, and I managed to pull my zip-up hoodie around her some for the short trek to the health center. Once we got there, I set her down, shrugging my hoodie off to wrap it around her shoulders. Thankfully, being after hours, no one else was there except the nurse.

  It took all of two seconds for the nurse to diagnose Halston with strep throat, instructing me to take her to the Urgent Care down the street. I lead Halston back to my car—this time on her own two feet—and she must have felt like straight shit, because she didn’t argue once.

  We spent two hours waiting at the Urgent Care, and when I say we, I mean me, because Halston passed out cold, head on my lap, feet on the chair next to me. When she finally saw a doctor, she got a shot in the ass cheek with the promise that she’ll feel better in twenty-four hours and gave me a packet on care instructions, then we were sent on our way.

  I didn’t even ask Halston how she felt about coming to my house. She fell asleep—again—in the passenger seat, not waking until we got there. After she reluctantly climbed into my bed, I left the room and called my mom to ask what kind of shit to grab from the store.

  Three bags of sick chick supplies later, I’m finally home. I check the time on my phone as I take the stairs back up to my room, surprised that it’s after two in the morning. Unsurprisingly, Halston’s still asleep. I stand over my bed, taking in her long, dark hair fanned out across my pillow, the beauty mark on her cheek, her mouth slightly parted—no doubt tainting my sheets with her germs—but fuck if I care.

  Dropping the bags onto the nightstand closest to her, I round the bed, kicking off my shoes and taking off my shirt before climbing in next to her, promptly passing the fuck out.

  I wake up hot and sweaty as hell, and it takes me a solid thirty seconds to realize why. Halston. She’s huddled into my side, her face resting on my bare chest. My hoodie and her tank top gape open at her chest, allowing me a peek at one of her perfect little tan nipples. Morning wood pushes against the jeans I didn’t bother to take off last night, and I grit my jaw, knowing sex is not in my immediate future.

  Careful not to wake her, I slip out from underneath her, making my way to the bathroom connected to my room. I yawn as I kick my pants off, then blindly reach into the shower to turn the faucet on. While I’m waiting for the water to get hot, I take a piss, which is near impossible with a boner, and brush my teeth before stepping into the steam-filled shower.

  My cock shows no sign of quitting. I’m painfully hard and seeing Halston’s nipple just now isn’t helping matters. God, I love her tits. Two perfect teardrops, slightly more than a handful. I grip my cock, thinking about the way they bounce when she rides me, the way her pussy squeezes me. I slide my fist up and down, imagining those pretty, full lips wrapped around me, sucking me so good as she looks up at me under her dark lashes.

  “Fuck,” I groan, jerking faster. My abs tense, balls tightening. I brace one arm on the wall of the shower and widen my stance. I hear a noise right as I start to come, and my head snaps to the side, seeing Halston standing in the doorway, eyes trained on my cock through the gap between the shower curtain and the wall. I’m too far gone to stop, and her watching me only makes me come harder. Halston’s mouth pops open into a little O shape as my cum shoots out, spilling into the drain.

  Fuck.

  Halston’s wide eyes lift to mine. My chest heaves as I catch my breath. My wet hair is plastered to my forehead, and I run my hand through it, pushing it back to see her better. “Um.” She looks away. “Sorry.” She spins around, walking back out. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this chick flustered until this very moment.

  Yeah, she feels this, too. Even when she’s sick as fuck.

  I yank my towel off the hook outside the shower, wrapping it around my waist before stepping out. When I get back into my room, Halston’s sitting cross-legged on my bed, the contents of the bags I left on the nightstand spilled out in front of her.

  “How you feeling?”

  She looks up at me. “I’m guessing not as good as you.”

  “Ha-ha,” I say flatly.

  “Like I got hit by a truck.” She looks back down again at the pile in front of her. Tylenol. Canned Soup. A toothbrush. Vitamin water. Sore throat spray. Tea. “You did all this for me?”

  I scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah. You were passed out and my mom said this shit would help.”

  “Your mom?”

  I nod.

  “Tell me about her.”

  I narrow my eyes, walking across the room to feel her forehead. “Your fever must have come back. There’s no way Halston Montgomery just asked me a personal question.”

  She smacks my hand away, rolling her eyes. I walk over to my dresser, snagging a pair of sweats from the drawer, not bothering with underwear. I drop my towel, then pull on my pants before taking my spot on the other side of Halston.

  I fold my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. “Her name is Lucy. She’s selfless and kind and hilarious and the best woman I’ve ever met,” I start. Halston angles her body to face me, still sitting cross-legged, with her elbows on her knees, fiddling with the toothbrush I got. “She also has Parkinson’s.”

  “Shit,” Halston breathes. “Is that why you didn’t go to Virginia?”

  I raise a brow, surprised she remembers that.

  “What?” she asks defensively. “I pay attention.”

  “That’s the main part, yes. At first, it was little things. A tremor in her hand. Said her limbs felt stiff. But once it progressed, my dad left her. Said he couldn’t handle it.”

  Halston shakes her head, a sad look on her face.

  “She insists on living alone, but I’m all she’s got left. And what happens if she falls in the bathroom, and I’m states away?” I feel the familiar rage building inside me when I think about how my dad walked out on her. On me. “I could never leave her all alone.”

  “You’re a good guy, Binx.”

  We’re both silent, neither one of us wanting to bring up our fight or where we stand. After a minute, I stand up and pull on a maroon Wildcats shirt, then grab my keys off my desk.

  “You should rest.” I swipe her care instructions off the nightstand, handing them to her.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, flipping through the packet.

  “Class. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  “You don’t have to take care of me, you know.”

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I say again.

  “Okay,” she says softly, snuggling back into my bed. “Thanks, Binx.”

  Chapter Nine

  Halston

  I now know what dying feels like. I was feeling off all day yesterday and I couldn’t pinpoint why, but it was bad enough that I left class early. As soon as I got back to my dorm, it hit me hard and fast. Out of nowhere, it felt like I swallowed a handful of razorblades. I was nauseous and tired and even my eyeballs hurt. I fully intended to sleep it off, thinking it was just a particularly sucky bug.

  Never in a million years did I think Sullivan would show up unannounced and come to my rescue the way he did. I still don’t know why he was there. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague for weeks, but when I opened the door and saw him standing there, I couldn’t think about anything other than how shitty I felt. The doctor said I’d feel almost back to normal and no longer be contagious after about twenty-four hours, but I was already feeling a million times better than I was the first night.

  I slept on and off all day, finally waking up for good when Sully returned
around three. He came back armed with soup and more vitamin water, and then we spent the rest of the night talking and watching movies. The next day went the same way, except I felt a lot better and slept a lot less.

  On round two of movie night, I couldn’t put it off any longer and I asked if I could use his shower. I needed to wash the sick off.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m still standing under the showerhead, unable to tear myself away from the gloriously hot water. Finally, when it starts to turn cold, I turn the faucet off, reaching for my towel.

  I wrap my towel around myself, stepping out onto the cold tile floor. I pad back into his room, and Sully’s still in bed, shirtless, in those stupid, sexy gray sweats.

  “Can I borrow some clothes?”

  His eyes roam the length of me. “Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat. He gets up and retrieves a navy t-shirt that reads reLAX, bro, with two overlapping lacrosse sticks, and a pair of black boxers. He eats up the distance between us, holding the clothes out in offering.

  “Thanks,” I say, my fingertips brushing his.

  I pull the shirt on before letting my towel fall to the floor, his eyes following the movement. When I pull the boxers up, they barely stay on my hips, so I hold them in place as I make my way back to his bed.

  “Feel better?” he asks, climbing in next to me.

  “Much.”

  A tense silence falls over us, both of us aware that tomorrow we have to leave our little bubble and everything will go back to the way it was before.

  “Thanks for hanging out with me even when I look like a swamp creature.”

  Sully snorts. “Why did you come to my dorm, anyway?” I ask belatedly, finger-combing my wet hair.

  Sully turns onto his side, facing me. I do the same, my knees touching his.

  “I was going to seduce you,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, stomach swirling with nerves.

  “That was the plan.”

  “And how did you intend to execute that plan?” I ask softly.

  Sully’s teeth scrape across his bottom lip. “Halston…”

  “Show me.”

  “You’re sick,” he argues.

  “I told you, I feel much better now.”

  He rolls on top of me, his arms braced on either side of my head. He looks down at me with indecision.

  “Please, Zach.”

  His eyes widen, not expecting me to call him by his real name. “Well, I was going to start with calling you a pussy.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. “Come again?”

  “I was,” he insists. “I was going to call you out for being afraid to take a fucking risk and put yourself out there.”

  I look away, unease rolling through me. He captures my chin between two fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes.

  “Then I’d tell you to trust how you feel.”

  I shake my head. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the thoughts running through my head.”

  “I said trust what you feel. Not what you think. Not what you hear.” He dips his head down, his lips skimming along my collarbone. My stomach does a somersault, heart racing. It’s been weeks since I’ve been with Sully like this, and even the slightest touch lights me on fire.

  “What do you feel, Halston?” His tongue licks a path up my neck before he sucks and nibbles on my skin. When I don’t answer, he pushes my shirt up my stomach all the way to my chest. He peppers little open-mouthed kisses across my hipbone, then my belly button, before making his way north. He licks the swell of my breast before his hot mouth closes around my nipple and I moan, my neck arching.

  I’m shivering and shaking beneath him, goosebumps dancing across every inch of my body. I can feel his need pressed against me.

  “Tell me,” he demands before sucking my nipple hard. I feel a jolt straight between my legs, and I roll my hips into his.

  “Alive,” I breathe.

  At my confession, he pulls my baggy shorts down my legs, then pushes his sweats just low enough to free himself. I open my legs as much as I can with the boxers bunched at my ankles, and he pushes inside me, filling me in one thrust.

  Oh my God, yes.

  “And now? What do you feel when I’m inside you?”

  “Love.” The word comes out without thinking, and I clamp my mouth shut, wishing I could take it back.

  Sully hesitates, looking down at me, looking just as surprised as I feel.

  “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t even think about taking it back,” he warns. “If you meant it—”

  “I meant it.”

  I feel him twitch inside me. “Say it.”

  I smooth my hands up his shoulders and look up, his blue eyes blazing back at me. “I love you.”

  “So take the risk,” he says, starting to move between my thighs. My eyes fall shut, heart pounding.

  “Okay.”

  Epilogue

  Halston

  Six months later

  If you would have told me this time last year that I’d be Zach Sullivan’s girlfriend, I would have laughed in your face. Hysterically. But, here we are. We’ve kept our relationship on the down-low. Allie and Jesse know, mostly because we’re terrible at hiding it, but we haven’t flaunted our relationship publicly.

  I think we both wanted to just be without letting the world in on it. I admit, that for the first couple of months, I felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t trust it, and I didn’t trust me. But, seeing as how we’re still together six months after he saw me at my literal worst, I think it’s safe to say he’s not going anywhere—at least not anytime soon—so we’ve decided to stop hiding. No cheesy announcement via social media or anything like that, but we’re no longer hiding it, either.

  Sitting here on ice-cold aluminum bleachers, watching all the pretty co-eds gawking after the Wildcats’ new lacrosse team playing their first game of the season, I’m feeling more than ready to let it be known. Sully’s high school lacrosse coach approached him just before summer to let him know that Kerrigan was finally starting a lacrosse program, and he jumped at the chance to play. Both he and Jesse. Sometimes, if you’re patient enough, the universe just…works in your favor. And seeing him out there doing what he loves—which happens to be beating other grown men with sticks—is an amazing sight to see.

  Both Allie and I jump up and cheer when Sully shoots the ball into the net, scoring a goal. I still don’t know anything about lacrosse, but I know enough to recognize when he scores.

  Sully turns for the bleachers, and even though the cage of his helmet obstructs my view of his face, I can tell he’s seeking me out before walking off the field for halftime. He told me that they don’t usually do anything special during halftime, but today’s the exception, being the first game and all.

  “God, you two make me sick,” Allie teases.

  “Yeah, you’re one to talk.” Their love story is like something out of a bad teen movie, but they came out strong in the end.

  “So you’re, like, with Sullivan now?” Sierra chimes in from the seats behind us, leaning her head in between us.

  I cut my eyes at Allie, ignoring Sierra. Is this bitch for real?

  “They are, so you can put your tits back in,” Allie says, giving a pointed look at her chest.

  “Please, I’m not here for him.” Sierra scoffs. “But I’m really happy for you, Halston.”

  I shoot her a skeptical look. “Right.”

  “No, really. Sully told me the night—well, you know which night…” She lowers her voice. “He told me how your boyfriend fucked your sister and you had major intimacy issues afterwards. I mean, who can blame you? I’m glad you’ve gotten over it, though.” Fake sincerity drips from her voice, and if I weren’t so caught off guard by what she said, I’d punch her.

  Allie’s shaking her head, silently telling me not to believe her. Blood rushes through my ears, muffling the music coming from the marching band, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. I take a
second to think this through. Old Halston would fly off the handle, believing the words coming out of her mouth because she thinks she deserves it. But new and improved Halston knows better than that. I know Sully better than that. I can only guess how things really went down, but I’m betting that she overheard a drunken conversation between Jesse and Sully the night I ended things.

  “Aw,” I pat her head, “it was so sweet of you to talk him through it. Thanks for that.”

  Allie snorts, but before Sierra can respond, the crowd breaks out into cheers. My eyebrows pull together as I scan the field, looking for what’s causing all the commotion. When I finally spot it, my jaw drops open.

  It’s Sully, standing in a dress and heels—my dress and heels, in the middle of the field.

  What the hell?

  Jesse hands him a megaphone—a freaking megaphone—and Sully takes it from him, bringing it to his mouth.

  “One time I made this bet with a girl,” he starts, and the crowd laughs. “Just hear me out.” He chuckles. “One time I made this bet with a girl. If I lost, I was supposed to wear a dress and heels to a party. I told her the day I’d risk public humiliation was the day she could have my balls.”

  So much for not doing a big, cheesy announcement.

  A whistle blows and Sully looks over to see his coach warning him to wrap it up. “Well, Halston Montgomery, you have me by the balls. I love you. I just thought you should know.”

  “Oh my God.” Allie laughs, throwing her arm around my shoulder.

  “Did you know he was doing this?” Allie shakes her head. My face is burning, and I’m probably redder than the dress he’s sporting. Sully runs back off the field, presumably getting back into his uniform, and I’m left too stunned to react.

  Jesus, he’s insane. And I love him.

  Sully

  It’s official. The Wildcats won the first game of the season. I run to the fence to where Halston stands, her pretty smile on full display. Her cheeks are still flushed with embarrassment, but I can tell she’s happy.