Pucking Parker (Face-Off Legacy Book 1)

by Jillian Quinn

  Bex removes her phone from her gym bag. An awkward silence passes between us, the loud cheers around us filling the void as she scrolls through her messages.

  “Oh,” she says, her eyes slowly raising to meet mine. “I didn’t think you expected a reply to your last message. But clearly, it’s important to you. I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  “I like being around you,” I admit. “You’re nothing like the girls I know. It’s refreshing. Like I can be myself with you.”

  She looks away from me, biting the inside of her cheek, her focus on the boys running down the court. “I like you, too. But I don’t see anything happening between us. Friends I can do… if you think you can handle being friends with a girl.”

  Can I be her friend when all I can think about is ripping off her clothes? Not likely.

  “I can try.” I lean into her side, pressing my lips to her earlobe. “If that’s what you want.”

  She clears her throat, still watching the game play out before us. “Umm… yeah, that’s what I want.”

  We’ll see about that.

  If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s changing girls’ minds. Bex will give in at some point. They always do.

  “Okay,” I agree. “As you wish.”

  Chapter Nine

  Bex

  I met my idol and didn’t pass out. Coach was everything I thought she would be and more. Her strong personality, the one I’d heard about online, shined through. When she hugged me, I almost died. Like I could have died at that exact moment and been truly happy. One of my bucket list goals came true, all because of Preston.

  But what I loved most was seeing her with Preston—as a mom. Preston and Coach are so cute together I was a little jealous. It made me miss not having a mother. It also made me wish I were part of their family, which is a major problem. Because I shouldn’t want things I can’t have, and Preston is one of them.

  “They made it,” Preston says, pointing at his teammate, Jamie, and a middle-aged man who could pass as his older twin. This must be Uncle Jameson. The resemblance is uncanny. The same short, brown hair, straight nose, high cheekbones, and long lashes that would make any girl jealous.

  It’s the end of the third quarter when they stroll down the sidelines toward our bench. They stop in front of us, and Preston stands, towering over everyone, filling out every inch of the space around him.

  “Before you start…” Preston says to Jameson, “… this is Bex. She’s my friend. Nothing more. So, don’t act all weird like Mom did. Okay?”

  He studies Preston’s face for a second to see if he’s joking and then laughs. “Good one.” Jameson slaps Preston on the back. “You had me going, buddy. For a second there, I thought you were serious about having a friend who’s a girl.”

  “I am,” Preston challenges.

  “It’s not in the Parker nature,” he says under his breath, but still low enough I can hear him.

  This family is weird. Almost none of them are related by blood. All of them are good-looking. Like what the fuck? They clearly won the genre lottery. Even with a touch of gray in his hair, Jameson is one fine ass man. A super-hot DILF. I’m surprised Preston’s mom was able to just be friends with this man without jumping him.

  Jameson introduces himself to me, minus the hug I got from Coach.

  I wave to Jamie, who clutches his cell phone, half looking at me. He types out a quick reply, and then smiles as if he’s up to no good. “Any chance you know how to dance?”

  I cock an eyebrow at him. “Huh? Are you talking to me?”

  “Yeah. Who else would I be talking to?”

  “I guess so. Why?”

  “This girl I’m seeing, Shannon, she’s in this dance contest tonight. Two of the girls in her sorority are puking their guts out. She thinks they have food poisoning. And now they’re two girls short for tonight.”

  “That sucks.”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. Would you help her out?”

  “I don’t know anything about dancing professionally.”

  “All you have to do is shake your ass for one song. It’s for charity. All of the sorority houses are doing it to raise money for CHOP, the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia.”

  “I would love to but dancing isn’t really my thing. Can’t they find someone else to do it?”

  “I’ll be there,” Preston says. “Just pretend you’re on the bar dancing for me.”

  I laugh. “You’re having a hard time accepting the friends part of our relationship, huh?”

  “Nah, I get it.” He presses his palms to his thighs, drawing my attention to his legs. “But that doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”

  Oh. My. God.

  His legs are so damn muscular I want to give them a squeeze, you know, to test out their… durability? But I stop myself, even though it’s tempting.

  “How about a little wager?”

  I perk up at the mention of a bet. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Play me in H-O-R-S-E,” Preston says. “If I win, you have to come tonight and dance in this contest with Jamie’s girl.”

  “Okay.” I’ve got this in the bag. “And if I win, you have to wear a Spider-Man costume on campus for a day.”

  Jamie laughs so hard he shakes the bench. “Aww, man, this is priceless.” He turns to Preston. “Sorry, bro, but I’m hoping your girl wins. What I wouldn’t do or pay to see you walk around in that costume.” Jamie glances at me. “I like how you think, Bex. You know, we should team up sometime. Teach Parker a lesson for being such a dick to me.”

  “He’s joking,” Preston says. “I give him a hard time about being a nerd, but that’s about it.”

  “You do it in front of Shannon.”

  “It got you laid, did it not?” Preston challenges.

  They share an intense moment that ends with them laughing.

  Preston extends his hand to me. “What do you say, Bryant? Do we have a deal?”

  I shake his hand. “You’re on, Parker.”

  He gives me one of his boyish smirks.

  I can’t decide whether I want to slap it from his face or kiss it from his lips.

  Kiss, definitely kiss him.

  After the youth league games end, Jamie sticks around to judge the outcome of my bet with Preston.

  Jamie hands the ball to me after I win the coin toss. “You’re up, Bex.”

  I take the ball from him, palming it in my hand.

  “You ready to do this?” I ask Preston.

  Preston moves his hands to his narrow hips, pushing up his T-shirt enough for me to see the ridges of his well-defined abs, distracting me. Damn him. Did he do that on purpose? He licks his lips, following my line of sight. He knows what he’s doing. Jerk.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says with a defiant smirk.

  I take the ball through my legs, switching between hands, dribbling as I pass Preston on my way to the basket to make a layup. The ball goes into the basket with ease, and I hold up my hands, victorious.

  “She scores,” I say, passing the ball to Preston. “Think you can match it?”

  H-O-R-S-E requires the second player to match the shot. If I had missed the layup, Preston could have taken any shot he wanted.

  He waves me off, a smirk touching his lips. “Please, girl, I got this. I learned how to make a layup when I was still in diapers.”

  “You have to do a crossover, too,” I remind him. “That’s part of the shot.”

  He snickers. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

  His mom made the Coachman Crossover popular when she played basketball for Villanova. I should have known better. He’s skilled with a ball, his talents apparent when he buzzes by me in a blur. Both of his parents have rubbed off on him. Preston is naturally athletic, as if each fluid movement is programmed into his muscle memory, gifted to him at birth.

  The ball hits the backboard and drops into the basket.

  Jamie grabs it from beneath the net. “You two are b
oth showoffs. At this rate, we’ll be here all day.”

  “This will probably be the longest game of H-O-R-S-E in history,” I deadpan.

  “Not if I can help it.” Preston grins at me like an idiot. “You’re going down, sweetheart. I never lose.”

  I nudge him in the side with my elbow. “I wouldn’t speak so soon.”

  “Would you guys kiss and get it over with already?”

  I stare at Jamie, horrified. A silence passes between Preston and me.

  Preston ignores him, pushing his hands out in front of him. “My turn. Pass the ball, Jamie.”

  Preston starts at the top of the key, his eyes full of determination. He’s not used to losing. Neither am I.

  In an unexpected turn of events, Preston dribbles, stopping two feet from the basket, and raises the ball to attempt a Skyhook. And the fucker actually sinks it.

  “Oh, so now you think you’re Kareem?” I shake my head, annoyed. “You’re one dirty ass player, Parker. Technically, trick shots are not allowed in H-O-R-S-E.”

  “Are you punking out of our bet already?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Or are you too intimidated to play me fair and square?”

  I let out a puff of air. “No. Fancy shots like that are questionable.”

  “It’s a hook shot. There’s nothing fancy about it,” he challenges.

  “Fine, you win, Parker.”

  He smiles. “I always win. Get used to it.”

  The chances of me making this shot are slim. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar made this uncomfortable hook shot famous. It’s one of the hardest shots to make with any precision. Any time I’ve ever attempted to make one, my shoulder felt like it was coming out of its socket.

  I follow Preston’s lead, hopeful when the ball hits the rim.

  “The first H of the game,” Jamie says.

  I growl in frustration, turning to look at Preston. “How did you make that?”

  He shrugs, a playful smile on his lips. “Skill.”

  “I’m learning more about you every second we spend together,” I admit. “I never expected you to be good at basketball, too.”

  “I’m good at everything I do.” He licks his lips. “You’ll find that out soon enough.”

  My breath catches in my throat. There are no words to convey what I’m thinking. Only actions. And I don’t want to act upon how I feel right now. At least I shouldn’t leap into his arms and kiss him until I run out of air. Nope, that’s not going to happen.

  Focus, Bex.

  He stares me down as if I’m his last meal. I kind of wish he would devour me. Because every nerve ending in my body comes alive from the sexy look on his handsome face.

  We continue our game, which never seems to end. Over an hour later, I’m about to lose to Preston. He has H-O-R, and I have H-O-R-S. One more missed shot and I have to go through with the bet. I don’t even know how to dance, at least not well enough to win a contest.

  Preston chooses a three-pointer, sinking it with equal ease and grace as the others. I hate that he’s so good at basketball. Isn’t hockey enough? I’m annoyed because I should be beating him—not the other way around.

  I set up at the three-point line, gripping the ball in my hands. The gym is eerily quiet. I can hear myself breathing. Jamie and Preston stare at me, the game on the line. My stomach churns, and I want to puke. I can’t lose at my own sport to Preston.

  The ball sails out of my hands, and I can tell by the way I released it that it’s going to hit the backboard. And it does. There’s still hope as it rolls around the rim of the basket for a split second, before hitting the court.

  “You lose.” Preston points at me, a goofy expression crossing his face. “I can’t wait for you to dance for me.”

  I throw my hands on my hips and stare him down. “I’m not dancing for you.”

  His blue eyes flicker, but he doesn’t say anything. The wide grin stretching across his handsome face says it all. I’m his for the night. And after spending the day with him, I’m okay with this lost. I want more time with him.

  “Sweet,” Jamie says. “I’ll call Shannon and let her know Bex is coming tonight.”

  “You said she needs two girls,” I say to Jamie. “Right?”

  He nods.

  “I’m not doing this alone. My friend, Taylor, has to come with me. She won’t mind getting up on a bar and making an ass of herself.”

  Jamie removes his phone from his pocket to text Shannon. “Even better.”

  Preston grabs my shoulder and spins me around. “Good game.”

  I force a smile. “You, too.”

  His eyes cut through me, his gaze so intense. I want to look away, but I can’t. He weakens me with his firm grip. His hand feels good on my bare skin. I should push him away, create the space I need.

  “C’mon.” He offers his hand to me. “Let’s get something to eat on our way back to campus. You have a big night ahead of you. You’ll need your strength.” He says the last part with an arrogant smirk that hardens my nipples.

  How am I going to make it through the night with him? My willpower is already fleeting.

  Rule number two is out the window.

  How long until we break the last rule? The one that crushed me the last time I broke it.

  Chapter

  Bex

  I look like an ass. No amount of liquid courage will get me through this night. Staring in the mirror at the ridiculous outfit Taylor threw in my direction, I cringe.

  Taylor comes up from behind me and cups my shoulders. “You look hot, babe. We’re going to own this dance contest.”

  I look in the mirror and roll my eyes at her. “Remind me to never make deals with hot hockey players. I don’t know shit about dancing at a club. This is going to be so embarrassing. Why are you not upset I roped you into this?”

  She shrugs, lining her lips with a light pink gloss. “I like dancing and money. I don’t see the problem. It’s not like we have to take off our clothes.”

  I let out a breath of air. “I guess so. But look at what we have to wear. It’s ridiculous.”

  She steps back from my chair to fix her short, tight tank top in the mirror. The shirt rides up her stomach, exposing some of her flesh. So does mine.

  Taylor shrugs. “They’re not so bad.”

  I frown, unable to hide my disappointment. “Whoever ordered our outfits must have sized them for children. Black spandex shorts that barely cover my underwear are not okay around Preston. Either is this top that scoops down so low my nipples are practically hanging out. This shirt was not designed for D cups.”

  She chuckles, staring at me. “But you look smoking. Preston is going to pop wood so fast you won’t be able to keep him away from you.”

  “Ugh. That’s the problem. I can’t have Preston see me like this.” Wrapping my arms around myself, I cover my stomach. “He’s so touchy-feely. Being around him makes me want to break all of my dad’s rules. I would do it, too. If he wanted to.”

  “You bet your ass Preston would. He obviously wants you. Anyone within a ten-mile radius of you two can feel the sexual tension. Your dad’s last rule applies to dating, but he never said you couldn’t have sex with his players.”

  “No, not you, too. You’re just as bad as Preston. Look what happened the last time I had sex with one of his players. It almost ruined my life.”

  “This time is different.”

  “How so?”

  “Because Preston is different. And girl, he’s like five-alarm fire hot. I don’t know how you can stand to be around him without keeping a change of panties in your pocket.”

  I lift a pillow from the bed and throw it at her. “You’re so gross.”

  Taylor catches it, and then chucks it back at me. “You know I’m right. Admit it, Bex. You want him, too.”

  I lean to the right, allowing the pillow to miss my head and hit the wall behind me. “I can’t.”

  “Hey, it’s just an idea. If you want to touch his man meat, there’s nothing stopping you.�
�

  “Eww, did you just say man meat?” I cringe outwardly at the thought.

  She shrugs, nonchalant. “I hear he’s pretty big.” Taylor holds out her hands, as if she’s measuring Preston’s dick.

  “Oh, my God. Stop it. And how would you know how big Preston is? It’s not like you’ve seen it.”

  “I asked around for you. Figured we should get as much dirt on him as we can… in case you change your mind about him.”

  I shake my head at her and sigh. “I can’t think of him like that. Ugh. He’s my dad’s favorite player. And his mom invited me to learn from her. I mean, how cool is that?”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty awesome. Coach is like your spirit animal.”

  “I know. She’s so incredible. I would kill to have a mom like Preston’s. Mine was a complete embarrassment to all women. A nasty home wrecking whore.”

  She laughs, checking herself out in the mirror once more. “How do I look?”

  I wink at her. “Hot.”

  She flicks her dark hair over her shoulder and smiles.

  Taylor hands me the bottle of vodka from the counter, and I gladly take my fair share.

  “Everyone on campus is coming here to see the dance-off, when I don’t even know how to dance.”

  Taylor snorts and takes the bottle from my hand, raising it to her lips. “You’ve got moves, Bex. They come out when you’re drunk. All you have to do is get on that bar, shake your ass, and push out your tits.”

  I laugh. “I hate you.”

  She blows me a kiss. “You love me.”

  Preston, Tucker, Drake, Trent, and Jamie wait for us in the parking lot at The Sixth Floor. A group of girls, who I assume we are dancing with, crowd around them. I sift through them until I reach Preston. He stops talking to Drake, his eyes now fixed on me. His mouth falls open slightly as he takes in the sight of me.

  I never wear clothes like this—at least not in public. Tight spandex shorts and tops are reserved for working out or practices. Never for weekends. And definitely not around guys like Preston.

  “Damn, Bex.” Preston steps forward, his right hand falling to my waist. He closes the distance between us, the air between us thick with tension. He studies each of my curves, his gaze falling over every inch of my body. “You look… hot.”