Team Player 2: A Sports Anthology

by Paige, Rochelle

  He shakes his head, his eyes widening. “What? No! I didn’t pay attention. I didn’t look there. I saw you on the ground and assumed you were trashed.” He pauses and holds my hand tighter, a troubled look on his face. “I didn’t know where you lived…”

  “So you took me to Piper’s and rang the doorbell.”

  He nods, regret etched deep in the lines of his face.

  I look away from him, my mind churning.

  “Can you forgive me?” he sighs. “I told the police everything, how I found you and took you to Piper’s. I’ve often wondered if you knew it was me, but when you walked into school and looked at me, I could tell you didn’t know or you would have said something.”

  I nod.

  “The police questioned me for hours. They had a timeline for everyone who was there and who they left with, but because I’d left early, I couldn’t help with those alibis. They looked at me hard, even though Tawny told them she was my date. Regardless of that, I looked suspicious because I picked you up—even though I came in and told them everything. Then my dad showed up and they let me go and never got back in touch with me.” He squeezes my hand.

  “They never even told me that you drove me to Piper’s.” A harsh laugh comes out of me. “I don’t think they believed me anyway. I’m no one in this town, but the rest of you…”

  “I believe you.”

  “Is this why you offered to let me sit with you, fixing my tire…the private investigator? Yeah, Dane just told me. He was stoned, I think.” I pause. “Is being nice to me your way of making yourself feel better?”

  He lets out a deep exhalation. “Tulip, I’m nice to you…for a lot of reasons.”

  I’m confused. “Why? Because you think I’m something that needs to be fixed now? Am I your new pity-friend?”

  Pink color rises up from his neck to his face. “I have plenty of friends. Maybe you can be one too. A real one.”

  “I don’t like your friends.”

  “You like Wyatt.”

  “I do.”

  “So do I.”

  “Chance? You still besties with him?”

  He chews on his bottom lip. “I think Chance…shit, he’s still looking at you, Ava, and I see…I see that he might still care. He’s been my best friend for a long time and I don’t think he would—”

  I shake my head. “No one ever truly knows the heart of what some people are capable of, Knox.”

  His face is troubled. “Agreed.”

  I pull my hand out of his and stand.

  He follows, reaching out for me but then letting his arm fall. “Don’t go.”

  “Why not? You are who you are, and I’m the snitch, remember? You’ve told me more than the cops ever did, so now you just do you and feel better, okay?”

  “I can’t,” he says in a quiet tone. “For months I’ve been…lost…in discovering things about you from the PI. How you grew up in and out of foster homes, how your mom left you with a baby. How you beat the odds anyway and managed to get a scholarship to Camden. You’re amazing, Tulip. You’re a bright star in this shitty place. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Pretty words, Knox. They mean nothing.”

  But I’m shaking, and I don’t even know why except for that little pull I feel toward him…

  He’s standing close now, staring down at me with those gray eyes. “I know underneath that tough-girl exterior, you’d do anything for the people you love. Do you know how rare that is? People may say they care and love, but from what I’ve seen, they only look out for themselves. You, though, you feel so intensely, you love so hard you came back to Camden for your brother—”

  “Is there anything about me you don’t know?” Part of me is upset he knows so much personal information, but that other side…is drawn to him. That he cared enough to look into what happened.

  “Tulip—”

  I hold a hand up. “Wait, you knew my name was Tulip last year. How do you explain that?”

  He looks away and swallows, his brow furrowed as if he’s debating. He turns back to me, meeting my gaze, holding it steady. Still he doesn’t speak. I see that mask slipping back onto his face.

  “Knox?”

  I move closer, and we’re almost chest to chest. The smell of him, like summer and ocean waves, surrounds me. I stare up at him. Why does he have to be so beautiful, even with that scar? My eyes trace the hard lines of his jaw, the long, strong nose, the way his dark hair falls around his face.

  “Tell me,” I say.

  When he speaks, the words are pulled from him, almost as if he doesn’t want me to know. “You’ve always fascinated me, okay? Since day one, since the moment you waltzed in those doors with your long blonde hair and eyes full of all that hope and…power. You barely looked at any of us, especially me, and I knew then you were untouchable, knew you deserved better than any guy at Camden.” He pauses. “Except for Chance. You gave him a shot.”

  He thinks I have power?

  I’m untouchable?

  A small laugh comes from me, some of that confidence I’ve lost along the way reemerging. The toughest guy at Camden sees me…he sees me as someone I never have.

  We stare at each other until I clear my throat, looking back at the piano. “Um, did your mom teach you to play?”

  He gives me a startled look. “Yeah. She was incredibly talented. And beautiful.” His eyes brush over my face. “Like you.”

  It’s quiet in the auditorium, so quiet.

  Why does he say these things?

  He touches my hair, just barely. “You walked into school with all your hair cut off and I nearly passed out.”

  I lick my lips. “Didn’t know you had a thing for hair. You gonna be a beautician or a stylist or something someday?”

  “Hmm, I sat behind you in American History last year before you left. I used to touch it with my pencil and you never even noticed. I mean, it was everywhere, all those blonde waves.”

  I huff out a small laugh. “Psycho.”

  “Every day I’d get a little braver and barely touch my pencil to your shoulder, your arm. I was almost…afraid of you,” he says, his voice lowering.

  Afraid of me?

  The auditorium door creaks open and we hear two voices—teacher voices.

  “We’re not supposed to be in here,” I hiss.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me behind the black curtain.

  “Is there a back exit?” I whisper as we stand next to each other, hiding.

  There’s a small slit in the fabric and he peeks through then looks back at me. “It’s Maxine and the janitor, Carl.”

  I roll my eyes, feeling weird and strangely exhilarated. He played with my hair—

  “How are you on a first-name basis with the staff here?”

  He gives me a grin, the smile lighting up his face, and I suck in a breath at the way it makes my heart pound. “Last year, I used to pop into the office and help out on my free period—”

  He stops when we hear smacking sounds—and moans.

  My eyes flare. “What are they doing out there?”

  He looks back through the part in the curtains, and his shoulders tremble with restrained laughter. “Oh, shit, they’re making out.”

  “Shut up,” I whisper, pushing him a little so I can see.

  Sure enough, Maxine and Carl are in an embrace near one of the seats on the far right toward the front of the stage. He’s a small man, a bit rotund, but damn, he knows his stuff.

  “Her bun is down,” I say. “And Carl has some amazing mutton chops—she’s caressing them. Gross. Oh my god. Dang, now he’s unbuttoning her shirt. Holy cow!” My voice rises.

  Maxine’s head comes up and she looks around the auditorium, squinting in the darkness.

  “Now you’ve done it. We’re gonna get caught,” Knox says in my ear. His lips brush against the skin there, and I shiver.

  I tilt my head closer to his.

  We watch together as Carl murmurs something to Maxine and lays a bi
g kiss on her neck. She moans, “Oh, baby,” and I stifle another giggle when she grabs his ass.

  “Are they having an affair?” I ask him.

  “They’re both single. Maxine lost her husband a couple of years ago. It’s cool.” He grins. “Hey, at least someone is getting some action.”

  “You’re not?”

  He doesn’t respond.

  I elbow him. “What? You and Tawny? You’re hitting that, right? Under the bleachers?”

  “No.”

  “Someone else then? Some hottie I haven’t seen you with lately? Granted, it’s only been two days, but I’m sure you have a line of girls begging to be with—”

  “Nah. I’m saving myself.”

  The words are so ludicrous that I actually stop watching Maxine and Carl and look at him. Hard.

  “For who? What about your…issues?”

  He arches a brow. Damn that sexy eyebrow. “I never should have told you that, but whatever. I’m waiting for someone special this year.”

  “Huh. You’re like…jonesing for someone. Anyone I know?”

  Before he can respond, the bell rings. We grow still and I look down, realizing he’s holding my hand again, his thumb drifting over mine.

  “We have to get out of here,” I murmur. “I have a class.”

  “I can skip my next class and we can just hang out here?”

  “Behind this curtain?”

  He smirks. “I’m sure they’ll leave soon.”

  My body wants to stay, but my mind knows better. “I need to be valedictorian this year. Plus, I can’t mess with my scholarship, which means no skipping class.”

  Disappointment flits across his face before he locks it down. “Okay. I know a back way out.” He nods his head at a side door I hadn’t seen.

  “And you’re just now telling me? We’ve been hiding back here for nothing, Cold and Evil.”

  “Not for nothing.” His eyes trace my face, a questioning look there. “Ava?”

  The moment feels heavy, the very air around us electric.

  “It’s okay, Knox,” I say softly. “You didn’t know I’d been assaulted. You left early, and if you hadn’t come back...I might have laid there all night.”

  He shuts his eyes briefly, his dark lashes fluttering. “I want to make things right for you. I want justice for you, Tulip. My mom never got it.”

  Oh.

  The king of Camden is…not what I expected at all.

  “Fresh start?” He leans his forehead against mine, and it’s…it’s such a personal touch, but I don’t sense any horny-guy vibes in the action. In fact, if anything, he’s holding himself very still, as if doesn’t want to startle me.

  “Friends, Tulip, and I’m gonna make this year good for you.”

  I find myself counting the lashes on his eyes, the dark curls thick and lush like a girl’s.

  “You’re gonna up my street cred?”

  “If you’ll let me.”

  Some of that aching loneliness that’s been on my shoulders eases.

  “I know what it’s like to be lonely, Ava. I won’t pretend to think I can even imagine how you grew up because that would be fucking wrong, but I know how it feels to walk into a room and feel as if no one really knows you.”

  I stare up at him, tracing my eyes over his broad shoulders, that powerful chest that’s so still right now. He makes me feel safe. “I haven’t even kissed a guy since that night.”

  I say it because…I don’t know why. Just that—

  He inhales sharply. “Tulip…don’t look at me like that.”

  I lick my lips, imagining his mouth on mine. What would it be like? To kiss a guy after what happened to me?

  “I’ve heard you don’t kiss.” I run my finger over that slice through his upper lip and he flinches. He’s just as wary as I am. Knox has secrets and they’re layered in darkness, and part of me wants to know all the reasons why.

  He shudders, his eyes lowering, pupils dilating. “I don’t ever kiss on the mouth, but you’re looking at me like…like…” His voice grows huskier as he takes a step closer until finally my chest is against his. I sigh into the hardness of the power I feel underneath me, the friction of his jersey against my button-down.

  His hands land on my hips. “Do you want this fucked-up mouth on you, Tulip?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, heat firing through my body at the frankness of him.

  A long exhalation leaves his chest.

  “I think I’d like you to kiss me. You believe in me. You make me feel…I don’t know…better than I have in months.” I pause. “I’d like to know if…if it’s still good for me.”

  He stares down at me, the air thickening between us. “You’re treading on thin ice…”

  But his actions don’t align with his words. He’s sliding his hand in my hair and his lips hover over me. “Tulip…” he breathes.

  Before I chicken out, I arch my neck and press my mouth to his, giving his scar my attention first, pressing small kisses to that indentation before parting my lips and tasting all of him.

  I feel his shock as he stiffens. Seconds pass as I kiss him and he just stands there, until finally, he groans and presses his fingers to my scalp, angling my head to get deeper. He murmurs my name, his lips hesitant against mine then changing slowly, taking control of us, his tongue tangling with mine and sucking softly. Then his mouth takes mine with a ferocity that makes me want to crawl inside him for more, so much more.

  “Am I doing it right?” He presses his open mouth to my neck and sucks, making me shiver.

  “God, yes.”

  He comes back to my lips and takes them again, harder this time, his tongue toying with mine. Kissing him is like freefalling into a hot fire, and maybe I should be afraid of this, but I crave the way his chest against mine burns, the way it ignites every atom inside me. He tastes like spearmint and sex and everything I shouldn’t be close to, but…

  He’s the one to break us apart, his eyes gunmetal hot, his mouth swollen.

  “Fuck,” he breathes, his chest heaving. “I…can’t…do this.”

  I shake my head in confusion.

  If anything, I should be the one pushing the Shark away. I’ve opened myself up and he’s the one retreating?

  Can’t also means no, and he’s said it very clearly. I take a step back, immediately missing the safety I felt in his arms.

  He pales and looks as if he might say something, but he doesn’t, and sometimes when people don’t speak, they say everything, don’t they?

  Maybe he really doesn’t like kissing.

  Maybe he doesn’t really think of me…like that.

  Maybe…

  Shit.

  I don’t need this.

  He’s right.

  I gather myself together mentally, trying to separate my mind from how hot we felt together.

  He’s one of THEM, I remind myself.

  But that doesn’t hold with everything I know now.

  “Bye, Knox.” Without another word, I whip around and slink out the exit. All the way back to the first floor, my hand is on my lips, rubbing it across them, remembering the heat in that kiss, the unsure tenderness laced with the wildness.

  Chapter Ten

  Ava

  Love dies.

  Literally.

  I take the easy road,

  Safe with no hairpin curves.

  Until…you’re at the end of my kaleidoscope,

  All broken pieces, bright shiny pieces.

  Do you know how much I want you?

  Obviously, you don’t care.

  And neither should I.

  The text from SA comes in on Friday night as I sit on my bed, my laptop and textbooks scattered across my quilt. I had dinner earlier with Daniel at the group home and then stopped off at Piper’s to hang out with her for a while. She’d also come by with tacos and Mountain Dew earlier this week. I’m glad we seem to be back to normal.

  Now I’m at the dorm and bored, my homework looming.

&n
bsp; I snatch my phone, a curl of excitement there that he’s texted.

  Another poem? Wow, you’re really into this class. Same author? I ask.

  Yep.

  Funny. I googled that last one for an hour, and it never came up anywhere. The internet is a pretty amazing tool, you know. You wrote those.

  He doesn’t respond for several moments, and I get tense, opening a bag of Doritos and chomping down on a few. I’m enjoying imagining SA squirming.

  Ava. I was too embarrassed to admit I wrote them.

  Yeah, the jock who writes poetry. For me? Or for someone else?

  YOU.

  Why not admit that? Are you ashamed of them? They’re pretty nice.

  They’re…revealing.

  I scroll up and read the poem again.

  So you’ve never been in love? You said it dies.

  People leave. They find someone else when the road gets hard. My parents didn’t even want to be in the same room as each other.

  Oh. I study those words. SA is a bit of a pessimist about love.

  Another text comes in. I care for my brother. He’s all I care about. Who have you been in love with? Chance?

  I sit up straighter in bed. Knox thinks Chance still has feelings for me. True, he wooed and begged me to go out with him—and I was so close, so close to letting my guard down, to opening myself up and letting a guy who was way out of my league see me and know me.

  But we all know how that story ended.

  What if that night had ended differently and nothing happened to you? Would you still be with him?

  But that night DID HAPPEN.

  Ava, tell me. Who have you loved? Who was he?

  Gah, we’re getting personal, and part of me can’t resist it. It’s a place to vent, and I want to trust SA; I do. Still, part of me is wary even though he’s been texting me on and off for the past few days, checking in and asking how my day is. We’ve talked about Daniel and my reasons for coming back to Camden. He’s told me how important this football season is to him since he’s a senior and they’ve never won a championship.