Mister Baller: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 2)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  His words kick a weak spot low in my stomach. But I know better. Iris Merlini doesn’t need me. In her words and actions, she’s already made that abundantly clear.

  13

  Iris

  Sweat drips into my eyes. I can’t breathe. I lean forward, resting my hands on my knees, trying to suck in gulps of oxygen.

  Lord, I hate running. I’m tired, I stink, and I feel on the brink of death, and I only managed to complete one mile today.

  I try to take a jog a few times a week, balancing out that cardio with daily strength conditioning workouts on my bedroom floor. I don’t seem to be losing any weight, though. All this hard work and nothing to show for it. But after what went down the other night, I’ve needed more than ever to burn off some of my restless energy.

  The replay of my roommate and me, grinding all over each other, has been on broadcast in my head since I woke up in his bed that morning, surrounded by his linen and his mouthwatering scent. I was a breath away from pushing my panties to the side and handling the achy feeling between my thighs.

  Thankfully, I still have a morsel of dignity left. So instead, I tiptoed back to my room and slid into my workout gear. I managed to make it out the door without waking Jude where he slept on the couch.

  But Operation: Torture by Way of Cardio really doesn’t seem to be working. I’m still all keyed up with lust.

  My steps falter when I enter the living room. The furniture has been pushed aside and I find Jude on the floor. A man who I presume to be his physiotherapist hovers above him.

  The sight catches me off-guard since my roommate usually leaves the house for his PT sessions.

  He grunts, almost shouting out, when the stern man pushes on his leg. His palm slaps against the hardwood floor and pain mars his face.

  I scurry into the kitchen, wanting to give him his privacy. He’s a proud man and I can’t imagine he’d want me witnessing his vulnerable moment.

  My roommate and I still don’t see a whole lot of each other. Between his therapy, my business research, and my overall objective to keep my distance, we usually just see each other when we’re coming and going. I’m just not sure what to make of him now that he intervened with that pushy debt collector.

  It frays my nerves that I had to accept Jude’s help with that overdue credit card a few days ago. All because my ex wouldn’t man up to his responsibilities.

  Still, I have to admit—now that that particular creditor is no longer hounding me, some of the weight has lifted off my shoulders.

  And let me make something clear—I do not condone tackling people. It’s not something I usually do. But regaining my independence has been super important to me so I lost my mind a little bit when it felt like Jude was trying to encroach on that. A primal instinct kicked in to fight for my newfound autonomy. I may have taken it a little too far.

  Jude didn’t have to help me, especially with how cold I’ve been to him. But now that the fog has cleared from my head, I feel a deep sense of gratitude toward him for his unexpected kindness.

  As I’m gulping down a glass of water, I steal a little peek into the living room.

  Jude’s expression, though…The grit, the determination, the tenacity to push through the pain even when giving up would be a whole lot easier. I can’t help but respect that. It’s kind of…sexy.

  Gosh, I’m so tangled up inside. Especially after the way he held me and soothed me and listened to me that night.

  Could I have been wrong about Jude Kingston all these years?

  I’m calling into question everything I thought I knew about the man. I’ve always considered him the bad guy. But is there a shred of a chance that he might be a decent person after all?

  I mean, the bad guy wouldn’t volunteer to pay off a debt that has nothing to do with him. The bad guy wouldn’t sit with me and let me babble my broken heart out into his bottle of expensive tequila. And the bad guy definitely wouldn’t have slept on the couch when my drunk ass passed out in his bed…Right?

  Foxxy swaggers into the room and catches me undercover-ogling my roommate. She cuts her eyes at me and swaggers right on over to her food dish. “Oh, don’t give me those judgy eyes,” I hiss at her. “Have you seen the man?! He has an eight-pack!”

  I adopted her soon after I signed the divorce papers. I’d walked into the humane society feeling lonely and abandoned, looking for a feisty feline to have a healthy, lifelong love-hate relationship with. One look at Foxxy and I knew she was who I’d been searching for. She’s everything I want to be. Brave, bold, absolutely beautiful. And she takes no one’s shit.

  Foxxy’s a badass bitch.

  I hear the physiotherapist giving my roommate a long list of homework as their session draws to a close. He advises Jude to keep at it if he wants to restore his movement and range. But to be honest, the man’s words don’t seem to hold too much enthusiasm.

  The injured footballer isn’t discouraged, though. Even after his PT therapist leaves, my roommate is still on the floor stretching, pouring himself into every exercise.

  I stand there for a second, admiring the movements of his powerful masculine form. Just looking at him makes my palms damp and tingly. I wipe them down the back of my leggings.

  “Hey,” I say from the doorway and Jude turns his neck to look at me. “Uh, I received a confirmation email about the bill you paid off. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

  He sighs, and the sound of his frustration fills the room. “Sure. If that makes you feel better.” His tone is flatter than I’ve ever heard it before, completely devoid of his usual playfulness. As I’m about to turn and walk away, he adds. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ve been looking for somewhere else to stay. I’ll be out of your hair soon. I won’t be here to get in your way with my physio anymore.” He rolls to his other side, working on his good leg.

  My body stills, and I experience a weird sense of grief as I stand there staring at his back. Gone? Like, moving out. Already? And suddenly, I’m asking myself if Jude leaving is what I really want.

  “Okay,” I answer because I’m not sure what else to say.

  I shuffle toward the stairs, but I turn back one more time. He’s still on the floor. Jaw still tight. Face still red with strain. But he pushes through it, continuing to put in the work. He’s in so much pain, and my heart hurts for him.

  I feel compassion because, in this moment, he’s not an arrogant demi-god who seems to have the world in the palm of his hand. He’s just a guy fighting to keep his dream alive.

  He rolls again and his eyes meet mine. I can relate to the weariness I see there. I recognize that hungry need for support, connection. And I feel an almost primal urge to fill that need for him right now.

  I stop thinking, analyzing. Instead, I move toward him. Before I realize it, I’m stretched out on the floor next to him. Oh my god. What the hell am I doing?

  Jude’s handsome face turns toward me and telegraphs a confused look.

  Feeling self-conscious about my sweaty post-workout state, I brush hair back from my eyes. “I know it’s not any of my business,” I start, “and I’m obviously not an expert. But I thought maybe you could use some company? I mean, we could try a few of the exercises together. It might help?”

  He searches my face for the longest heartbeat and I hold my breath. “Okay,” he says, voice softening.

  I blink. “Okay?” I guess I sort of expected him to tell me to get lost.

  “Yeah.” He blows out a breath. “I could use some company, actually.” He smiles.

  I smile back. “Cool. Let’s do this.” I’m all business now, excited about the prospect of helping him in any small way I can.

  We lie next to each other, doing leg raises. We start slow. It’s awkward. But I mirror Jude’s movements, patiently counting out each rep.

  I’m aware of everything. The heat rising off of his flushed skin, the sweat rolling over his taut muscles, the delicious scent of his perspiration mixing with his pussy-watering col
ogne.

  But my workout partner is focused on finding his rhythm. He’s all clear-headed determination.

  After a gruelling set, Jude glances at me with a breathless smile. One of those genuine ones that grabs me by the feels and pulls me right into his web of magic.

  My body feels like it’s been dipped in liquid electricity. Every nerve ending is aware and alive.

  Taking only the briefest pause, he quickly starts up a new set.

  I can’t help staring. He seems to sense my gaze on the side of his face. “What is it?” he whispers through his pain.

  I shrug. “I-I see how hard you’re working for this…It’s impressive.”

  Playfully, he glances down at his body. “Woman, these muscles of mine don’t come without hard work.” He tries to feed me another one of those brash, zero-shits-to-give grins that fools everybody else. But I don't buy it. I see the fear. He's afraid that his dream might be slipping through his fingers.

  I speak softly. “I’m serious, Jude. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be in your situation.” I bite my lip. “Almost everybody I know would have given up by now.”

  He pauses his leg lifts, and collapses into the hardwood floor. His eyes fall closed. His words shake with conviction when he speaks. “I can recover from this, Iris. I know that with every fiber of my being. But nobody believes in me,” he confesses softly. “Not one fucking person. That’s why I’ve gotta believe in myself.”

  I don’t know what comes over me in that moment. All I know is I find his hand where it’s resting on the floor beside me and I snake my fingers through his. “I believe in you…”

  There aren’t words to describe the look that comes over his face. His brows dip down. His eyes go glassy. He squeezes my fingers. “Thank you.”

  My throat is clogged with nerves. I swallow them down. “You shouldn’t move out,” I say quietly. I use up all my inner courage to say those words. But I don’t regret it. I won’t take them back. “Stay with me.”

  My heart thuds, stumbles clumsily over its own feet.

  He looks at me like he's in need of an explanation. I can’t explain it.

  I thought him leaving was exactly what I wanted. But I’ve sort of gotten used to having him around. Even though we each stick to our own corner, the house feels less empty with him in it.

  His eyes search mine. He sucks in a breath before he nods. “I’ll stay…”

  14

  Iris

  Jessa lifts her glass with a whoop and Lexi does a silly wiggle on her stool when an upbeat pop song starts up. From behind the bar, Penny waves her arms and sings along to the first few lines of the music. I may not know the song but I find myself giggling and dancing along—albeit, more modestly—in time to the beat.

  I’m in a good mood tonight.

  It’s Friday. I’m with my girlfriends. We’re at our favorite bar. What’s not to love?

  “Go, Iris! Show us those moves, girl!” Penny cheers, shaking her butt in that tiny, little dress that only she could pull off.

  I slide my near-empty glass across the counter. “Why the hell not?!”

  I rise from my stool and do a klutzy little two step without venturing too far from the bar. And that’s all the encouragement Jessa and Lexi need. They circle around me, doing some moves of their own. Penny looks on from where she’s mixing drinks for a few of her customers. Our uproarious laughter mingles in the air, rising above the sound of the music. I can’t remember the last time I let loose.

  When the song ends, we collapse back into our chairs, breathless and giggling.

  Jessa calls to the newly-minted bar manager. “I need another drink, Penn.” She grins as she fans her face with her hands. “But I’m broke. So put it on my sister’s tab.” Jessa cups a hand around her mouth. “She can afford it. I heard she’s married to a billionaire.”

  Laughing, Penny immediately goes to work.

  Lexi playfully bumps shoulders with her sister and takes a swig from her water bottle.

  I’m swivelling back and forth on my stool, jerking my shoulders and humming along to the next song when Lexi glimpses my way. She braces me by the shoulders and pushes me back to observe me. “Something looks different about you tonight…”

  I glance down at myself. “Me?” I’m wearing dark jeans and a simple black shirt. “Nothing new over here.”

  “Yes, I can’t quite put my finger on it,” my best friend insists.

  Jessa brings the straw of her empty cocktail to her lips and gives me a thorough once-over. “Hmm…Yeah. Something does look different. What’d you think, Penny?”

  My cousin leans a hip on the counter. “You have a je ne sais quoi going on.” She rolls her wrist in the air as she speaks in a faux-haughty tone.

  I feel my cheeks heating up. “What?!”

  “I don’t know. You just look really…good.” Lexi continues her examination, once again sweeping me from head-to-toe.

  I bite the corner of my lip. “Well, I have been working out.” I shrug modestly.

  Over the past few days, Jude and I have been getting together to exercise. Though our goals are very different, I think the mere fact that we’re working side by side has been helping us both stay motivated. I haven’t noticed any visible changes in the mirror yet but I do feel better.

  Jessa grins at me. “Well, you’re going to have to spill the secrets of your magical program. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that plump booty of yours. I want mine to look just like that.”

  I snicker. “First of all, your petite little body is perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing about it if I were you.” She looks adorable in her cute knee-length dress. “And secondly, we haven’t been doing anything special. Sit ups, leg raises, squats, long walks.”

  Before I’ve processed my slip of the tongue, Lexi’s eyebrow cocks up like the hook of a clothes hanger. “We? Who’s we?”

  I flinch. Oh, I totally walked into that. “Um, just Jude and me.” I give a casual shrug because no biggie, right…?

  Penny holds up a hand. “Wai-wai-wait! Jude and me? Since when have ‘Jude and me’ been taking walks together?” She slides Jessa her fresh drink.

  “Yeah, girl. Looks like you withheld a few episodes of ‘Jude and me’ because where we last left off, things were kind of sour between you and the hot roomie.” Jessa bites on her straw.

  I purse my lips. “Well, there’s not much to tell…I mean, I’ve been exercising on my own and getting nowhere with it. And he looked like he could use some company during his workouts, too. So…we just started doing it together.”

  Lexi leans across the sticky bar toward me, dark wild hair falling over her shoulders. “Is any of that ‘doing it’ taking place between the sheets?” Her eyebrows jump suggestively.

  I can just imagine the vodka-cranberry tone of the blush on my face right now. “Gosh, no. None of that. No. It’s just exercising,” I insist, careful to mentally sidestep the memory of the spontaneous genital-rubbing that happened in his bed the other night. It was embarrassingly adolescent.

  Jessa slumps against the back of her chair. “Well, that’s a shame.”

  “What do you mean, that’s a shame?” I pin her with a look.

  She twirls the ice cubes in her glass with her straw. “I just mean, he looked kind of sad that day when he was out there in your backyard. And you, you’re just getting over your divorce. It seems like…maybe there’s an opportunity for more between you.” Her features glint with optimism.

  Jessa thinks every man has Prince Charming potential, even when it’s clear to everyone else that he’s nothing but a toad. That’s why I always take her romantic assessments with a grain of salt.

  I roll my eyes. “Sheesh, Jessa. You’re such a hopeless romantic. Just because Jude and I are both single doesn’t automatically mean there’s a happy-ever-after in the cards for us.”

  Lexi gives a slight headshake. “Nobody’s suggesting you commit yourself to an entire happy-ever-after, hun. But a little bump and gri
nd probably wouldn’t hurt either of you.”

  I wouldn’t say Jude and I have hit a turning point, but the dynamic between us has certainly shifted. With everything that’s happened between us over the past little while, it’s become easier to be nice to him. I mean, he’s come to my rescue in more ways than one. Plus, we work out together. But we’re still definitely not in bump and grind territory. There’s still a huge, awkward elephant between us.

  “Guys, Jude is Kirk’s best friend!” I object.

  Lexi shakes her head vigorously. “Nuh-uh. I will not stand by and let some misplaced loyalty to your ex cockblock your sex life. Not after that sleazebag sledgehammered your heart with his little, tiny, cheating penis.”

  “It’s not about loyalty,” I argue. “I told you the way Jude was back in the day. The way he tried to get between Kirk and me.” Jude’s influence grabbed hold of my ex in college, and molded him into this shitty person he is today. At least, that’s what I’ve been trying to convince myself of.

  Alexia looks exasperated at this point. “Look girl, I love you so I’m gonna give it to you straight. Kirk is a major douchebag. Let’s be honest with ourselves here. People don’t turn into assholes overnight unless it was already ingrained in their DNA. I’m convinced Kirk would have reached the endpoint regardless of the negative influences in his life. You can’t blame his friend for his behavior. Besides, Jude wasn’t even around when Kirk…” She chews her lip like she doesn’t want to say it out loud. “…when Kirk left you.”

  The words sting but they’re true. The events that led to my divorce were all orchestrated by my ex-husband.

  Plus, Jude seemed genuinely upset by the history I shared with him about my broken marriage. It all appeared to be news to him. That confused me. Aren’t he and Kirk still close? I always assumed they were. How did Jude not know the details of our failed relationship? Did my ex-husband lie to him?