So, in exchange for Brayden only serving a year in juvenile hall for aggravated stalking, no charges were pressed against any of the eighteen-year-olds who participated in the fight. And since he hadn’t participated in Alistair’s beating, he was only charged as a non-participating accomplice. We were lucky the cops knew us and hadn’t asked for I.D.s. Samson and Raiden would have been arrested that day had they’d seen they were both eighteen.
Mackenzie had also been issued a restraining order that expired after five years. Charlie had been granted one that would go into effect the day Mahoney was released from juvie.
And while Samson and Mackenzie were good, Raiden and Charlie weren’t. Raiden avoided her when he could, and she pretended she didn’t care. I didn’t press Raiden, because the boy wouldn’t talk unless he ready to, but the entire thing was awkward as fuck.
Tonight was the game against Ridgeview and the atmosphere at school had been positively medieval all day long. Even students who didn’t follow football had been calling for their heads. The stadium was going to be packed and I wouldn’t be surprised if the place were crawling with police.
I had my bag hauled over my shoulder as I made my way to the locker room. Duke had dropped me off because Raiden had been running late, and when I turned the corner, I saw the only girl I hated running into.
Amelia Prescott.
However, being Steele Prescott’s twin sister, I saw her around a lot. Plus, having always been friends with Charlie, Amelia was now good friends with Mackenzie. You could often see them all together with Alistair, of course. He had fared well from his ordeal, and except for a scar that split his left eyebrow in half, you’d never know he’d been jump by all those assholes.
They really were going to get a beating tonight.
“Prescott,” I called out as we closed the distance between us.
“Abrams,” she replied with a smirk.
“Come to cheer me on?” I knew she was here for her brother and no one else.
“I’m here to see you guys murder Ridgeview.” She leaned like a conspirator. “Figuratively speaking, of course.” She winked, and my thoughts shot back to the day Raiden had been talking about how sometimes a girl just needs to be chased, and it was up to us to do the chasing.
I stepped closer. “I have an extra jersey you can wear,” I remarked, sending her a wink of my own.
She arched a brow. “My brother’s jersey fits just fine, Abrams,” she replied, a touch of haughtiness in her tone.
“I think mine would fit you better,” I tossed back.
Amelia smiled, and her voice was playful even if her words were harsh, “I’m not interested in a jersey that fits everyone.”
Game fucking on.
The End.
Ford
Copyright 2018 Monica Clayton
Published by M.E. Clayton
All Rights Reserved
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This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Formatting: Smashwords
Cover: Adobe Stock
Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.
Table of Contents
∞∞∞
Author's Note
Acknowledgement
Dedication
Prologue
1. Amelia
2. Ford
3. Amelia
4. Ford
5. Amelia
6. Ford
7. Amelia
8. Ford
9. Amelia
10. Ford
Epilogue
Playlist
About the Author
Other Books
Contact Me
Author’s Note
∞∞∞
Just a couple of things before I let you go and get your read on. While I am doing my best to work with better editing and proofreading software, all my books are solo, independent works. I write my books, proofread my books, edit my books, create the covers, etc. I have one beta who gives me feedback on my stories, but other than that, all my books are independent projects.
That being said, I apologize, in advance, for the typos, grammar inconsistencies, or any other mistakes I may make. Since writing is strictly a hobby for me, I haven’t looked for commitments in regard to publishers, editors, etc. My hope is that my stories are enjoyable enough that a few mistakes, here and there, can be overlooked. If not, my books are probably not for you.
Also, I am an avid reader-I mean an AVID reader. I love to read above any other hobby. One of the things about reading that hurts my heart, though, is when I fall in love with a book, but I have to wait for the additional books in the series to be released. Because I feel that disappointment down to my soul, I vowed that if I ever write a series, all books will be published at once. Nope-no waiting over here…LOL. So, if you are reading one of my books, but can’t find any other books on the secondary characters of that book, that means the book is a standalone project.
That being said, standalones aren’t really working out for me because I have readers (and my beta) constantly asking for the stories of the supporting characters. If there is enough interest for the supporting characters, I will do my best to give them their stories, but I will make sure to have the remaining books that were requested out at the same time.
Thank You! Thank You! Thank You! Thank you, for making this dream of mine come true!
Acknowledgements
∞∞∞
The first acknowledgement will always be my husband (unless we ever divorce, then probably not so much after that), but seeing as how I can’t imagine that day ever coming, I can’t ever put myself out there without thanking him for all his love, support and belief in me.
Second, there’s my family; my daughter, my son, my grandchildren, my sister, and my mother. They are the people who love me the most, know me the best, and love me dearly, despite all they know…LOL!
And, of course, there’s Kamala. She insists that I don’t have to thank her in every book, but my love for her and gratitude for all her support and enthusiasm, claims otherwise. She’s the first person (outside my family) that I shared this dream with, and she’s been by my side every step of the way. Kam, you really are the best kind of friend!
And, finally, I’d like to thank everyone who’s purchased, read, reviewed, shared, and supported me and my writing. Thank you so much for helping make this dream a reality and a happy, fun one at that! There are not enough ‘Thank You’s in the world.
Dedication
∞∞∞
For –
Anyone who’s ever taken a chance they never
thought they were strong enough to take.
Prologue
It wasn’t the cheating that had my chest feeling like it’d been stomped on. It wasn’t even seeing him cheating that had caused my stomach to roll.
It was the lies.
The lies were what had me pulling into an empty space across the street from Sloan Jackson’s house party.
It was the lies that had me feeling reckless and vengeful.
It was the lies that I couldn’t stomach.
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When Ernest had graduated in June and headed for college, it had been with the understanding that we were no longer exclusive. I hadn’t wanted to feel like an obligation and Ernest hadn’t wanted to feel obligated. We had agreed that we could date other people. We had agreed that, while we might not go looking for it, if someone caught our eye, then all was good. The only stipulation had been the absolute demand for honesty. We had both agreed that we’d been together too long to humiliate or embarrass one another like that.
Well, it had been humiliating and embarrassing to drive up to Springtown University to surprise your boyfriend but, more importantly, your friend only to catch him coming out of his dorm building with his arm around another girl. And it had been especially humiliating and embarrassing when that same girl had cleared up the misunderstanding by telling me she’s been seeing Ernest for about a month.
The asshole had a month to tell me he had met someone else.
And that anger was what had me getting out of my car and heading into Sloan’s party. I had a two-hour drive burning in my gut and I needed to drink it off, fight it off, or fuck it off.
I. Was. That. Mad.
Walking in, I spotted the usual suspects right away. Sloan was a senior who played safety for the Eastwood Tigers varsity team, so most of the football team was in attendance. I knew this because my twin brother, Steele, played defensive back for the same team. Only I didn’t see Steele anywhere.
My eyesight was soon confirmed as twenty/twenty when a voice rumbled in my ear. “Your brother’s not here, Prescott.”
I turned around and had to look up in order to make eye contact with the six-foot-four-inch football god standing in front of me.
Don’t do it.
“No?”
Walk away.
He shook his head. “Word is he’s with Kelly.” Kelly was Steele’s tutor.
You’ll regret it.
“And who are you here with?”
Are you crazy? Walk. The. Hell. Away.
His brows shot up. “No one,” he answered, but then, he was never with anyone, was he?
Bad idea, Amelia.
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad idea.
“If it’s not going to be you, it’s going to be someone else,” I said, getting to the point of my unexpected appearance at the party. It was widely known I wasn’t a big partier, though I’ve been to a few in my lifetime.
He straightened to his full height, and I could see indecision wresting around in those light blue eyes of his. Normally, he wouldn’t be my type, but he was exactly what I needed right now.
“Maybe you just need to calm down, have a drink, and-”
I turned away from him to seek out someone else. I didn’t want a lecture on right and wrong. I didn’t want someone telling me they knew better than me what I needed right now. I wanted to not feel like an idiot for staying faithful to someone who lied to me even when he hadn’t needed to.
A large hand latched onto my arm and whirled me around. I looked up and those light blue eyes were dark with excitement. “If you’re really going to do this, Amelia, then you better bet your ass it’s going to be with me,” he said, and a dark shiver danced down my spine.
“Just for tonight,” I clarified. “I just need this for tonight.”
His blue eyes searched my brown ones for traces of lies, and when he didn’t see any, he said, “All night, Amelia. I get you all fucking night.”
“All night,” I agreed, not knowing one night would end up never being enough.
Chapter 1
Amelia~
Eastwood had decimated Ridgeview.
The score had been so brutal, the school league had forced Eastwood to put in their third-string lineup in the name of sportsmanship. And even then, the third-string had held the score steady. The Ridgeview side had emptied its benches in the last few minutes of the third quarter. The only spectators that had remained on that side had been the parents of the Ridgeview players.
And good.
Fuck Ridgeview.
I wasn’t the only student who felt that way either. The rivalry between the Eastwood Tigers and Ridgeview Eagles was as old as time, but after some of the Ridgeview players had overstepped a few weeks back, every Eastwood student had been out for blood.
I was never a big football groupie and, truth be told, I wasn’t much of one now. However, because my twin brother, Steele, has played since he was a little kid, I had always been on the fringes of the sports world. Steele’s was a defensive back, and he’s always played that position since as far back as I could remember.
And he was good at it.
Enough to go pro? I wasn’t sure. But he was good enough to get a football scholarship, of that I was certain. And that was a good thing since college was an expensive mofo. Our parents, Merlin and Sheila Prescott, did well for themselves, but they weren’t rolling in money, especially when you considered they were trying to send off two kids to college at the same time.
My dad owned his own automotive shop and it was successful enough that I’ve heard him and my mom talk about opening another location. My mother was a nurse at a private rehabilitation and nursing care facility, and I knew she got paid well. She didn’t work crazy hours, but because the facility was private, it paid very well.
And even though, I knew they had planned for us to go to college, Steele landing a scholarship would be a huge sigh of relief for their pocketbooks. Me? I was still debating what to do with the rest of my life. I wasn’t being melodramatic; I just hadn’t found my passion yet. I knew I had to start thinking towards my future soon, though.
A pair of big, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind and lifted me as if I weighed nothing. Granted, I was only five-foot-four and slim, so that wasn’t saying much.
After I was twirled around a hundred times, I was set back on my feet and found myself staring up at a grin I’d recognize even if I were blind. “Did you see us kick their fucking asses?”
I laughed. “You guys really should be ashamed of yourselves,” I teased.
My brother’s grin widened. “Nah,” he replied smugly. “Those bastards had it coming.” He wasn’t wrong. They had.
I glanced around as football players started filing out of the locker room, showered, and changed. I had been waiting in the hallway with a ton of other excited students, and while normally I waited in the stands with my parents, I had been excited for Steele and wanted to greet him when he came out.
See, my parents were cool parents. They didn’t hover or make unrealistic demands of their children. They gave us space, and they expected me and Steele to be the other’s support when it came to teenage angst and drama. However, if we ever needed them, they were there for us.
“Mom and Dad waiting?”
I jerked my head towards the stadium. “Yeah. They’re in their regular seats,” I answered. Steele wrapped me up in another hug, picked me up like a sack of potatoes at his waist, and walked us back to the stadium, to our parents.
The second we reached our parents, I was wrapped up in another pair of strong arms, except these were dirty and sweaty. I yelped while Steele and my parents laughed.
When my feet were firmly planted back on land, I turned around into the smiling face of Raiden Cruz. I couldn’t help but smile as we were crowded by Raiden, Samson Maddox, Mackenzie Harden, Charlie Harden, Duke Maddox, and Ford Abrams.
“Hey, kids,” my dad said, greeting them all.
“Did you see that, Mr. Prescott?” Duke Maddox asked, grinning like a loon. “Ridgeview got their asses kicked! Whooooooooooooooo!”
“Language!” Mackenzie exclaimed, glancing at my parents.
I laughed. “It’s okay, Mack,” I assured her. “Being around football players all our lives, they’ve heard worse.”
Mackenzie Harden used to go to Ridgeview until she moved and transferred to Eastwood this summer. She started dating Samson Maddox, our varsity quarterback, on the first day of school, and her cousin was my close friend, Charlie H
arden. Mackenzie was a sweet, sweet girl who had black hair and purple freakin’ eyes if you could believe it. She also had the figure of a grown woman. Samson never left her side.
Charlie was just as sweet, except when she wasn’t. The girl was a spitfire if provoked, but she was also just as pretty as her cousin. She didn’t have purple eyes, but she had chocolate brown hair, big brown eyes, and played soccer, so she was trim and athletic.
Duke Maddox was Samson’s younger brother, and he played baseball but supported our football team when he could. Raiden Cruz was one of our varsity wide receivers. And Ford Abrams was one of our varsity right tackles.
And every single boy standing in front of me was gorgeous as sin. It was really unfair how good-looking this bunch was. Samson and Duke both had dark brown hair with bright hazel eyes. Raiden had dark brown hair with startling blue eyes. And Ford had dark blonde hair with light blue eyes. And because they were all athletes, their bodies were in the prime of perfection.
It was enough to make a damsel fan herself before swooning.
Then I noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Alistair?”
Charlie rolled her eyes so hard, you could hear them rolling around in her pretty little head. She jerked her head towards the students who had rushed the field. “He got kidnapped by some blonde,” she muttered. Alistair and Charlie had become close these past few weeks, so she gave him shit whenever she could. However, Alistair Brown was my best friend, and I absolutely adored the guy.
“You mean, blondes, as in plural,” Duke chuckled.
“Well, we’ll leave the youth to celebrate,” my dad said. “Have fun but be careful.”
The Eastwood Series Page 14
