More Than A Game (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 2)

by Bella Matthews

  “Jesus Christ, Chloe. You bought her a pink ball sac to chew on?” Brady stares at his sister. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Love you too, big brother.” She kisses him on the cheek and heads upstairs with her bag.

  Brady looks at Nattie. “Where’s she going?”

  “To my room, aka the guest room. She said your mom is driving her nuts about college applications, and she’s spending the night here.”

  Sabrina comes around the couch, holding her big overnight bag and a big pet store bag.

  I stand, slipping the overnight bag off her shoulder and wrapping my arms around her. “Did you have fun, Princess?”

  She wraps her arms around my waist. “I did have fun.” She yawns.

  “You ready for bed?

  She nods and leans her head against my chest. “I’m beat.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you upstairs. Just gotta let Rocky out first.”

  Luckily, I don’t think Rocky likes the cold. She takes care of business quickly, then follows me upstairs. When I walk into my room, I’m surprised by the big cream-colored fluffy square thing on the floor, next to my desk. It’s got Rocky’s new ball sac chew toy on it, a small pink stuffed tiara, and a stuffed white lamb.

  I look around, but there are no signs of Sabrina until the bathroom door creaks open. She’s in those cute cherry print pajamas I love. Her face has been washed, and her long dark hair has been piled on top of her head. She’s gorgeous.

  “Uh, Princess, what is that?” I point to the big pillow.

  “It’s a bed for Rocky. You said she couldn’t sleep with us anymore, and I didn’t want her to have to sleep on the floor.” She climbs up onto my bed and gets under the covers.

  Meanwhile, I strip down to my boxers, shut off the light, and join her. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her toward me and kiss the top of her head. “Love you, Sabrina.”

  She runs her fingers over my chest. “I love you too, Aiden.”

  I grab her hand and kiss the tips of her fingers. “Sleep, Princess. Women. Weaken. Legs. So, no fun stuff tonight.”

  This crazy girl shakes her head and proves she’s perfect. “Really? You’re going to quote Mickey to me? Who’s the real Rocky, you or the dog?”

  “You know what movie that’s from?” Seriously . . . what girl can quote Rocky?

  She lifts her head away from her favorite spot on my chest. “Aiden Murphy, I’m a Philadelphian just like you. I can quote the first Rocky as much as I can quote the last one. Rocky III might not be my favorite, but I even know that one.”

  “You never stop surprising me.”

  “Good.”

  43

  Sabrina

  I don’t know if it’s the bed or the person I’m sharing it with, but I definitely sleep better when I spend the night in Murphy’s bed in his strong arms. I like to think it’s the person, not the insanely big, comfortable mattress. Warm lips press against my forehead, and the last vestiges of sleep vanish. I peel my eyes open to see Murphy, looking like he’s going off to battle. The lines of his face appear tight and strained.

  “I’ve got to go, Princess. I’ll see you at the game.”

  I sit up, plant my hands on his face, and kiss those lips I love. “Win, Aiden.”

  He smiles a small smile, kisses me quickly, and then turns to leave.

  No sooner has the door closed behind him than Rocky is off her bed and pawing at the sheets, wanting to snuggle in bed with me. Well, maybe just for a few minutes. Rocky settles in next to me, and we both drift back off. Okay, it might be the insanely big, comfy mattress—just a little bit.

  A little later, I’m showered and dressed in my brand new #51 jersey layered over my Kroydon University hoodie and my tight blue jeans. I’ve got cute knee-high white socks with a ruffle at the top pulled up my legs and my riding boots sitting just under the ruffle. I look pretty cute for a football game. When Rocky and I meet up with Nattie and Chloe in the kitchen, both ladies are dressed similarly in jerseys and jeans, and Chloe is handing out black KU winter hats with pom-poms at the top. “It’s supposed to only be thirty-two degrees at kick-off, ladies. Cute hair doesn’t ward off frostbite.”

  She throws me my hat. “You know you won’t get frostbite during the game, you goober.”

  Chloe smiles. “Of course not. That’s why we’re wearing hats and buying hot chocolate when we get there.”

  There’s a knock at the door, sending Rocky into a frenzy. It’s as if she knows who’s on the other side. Nat walks over and opens the door for Annabelle and Tommy.

  Rocky jumps at Tommy, nearly knocking him over.

  “Look, Rocky. We got you a cookie.” He produces a small box from his coat pocket and looks to Belle to see if it’s okay.

  She nods her head and then crosses into the kitchen. Grabbing a half-empty cup of coffee, she sips. “He insisted we stop at the new bakery two buildings down from the studio. When we were in there the other day, he saw dog cookies and couldn’t wait to get one for Rocky.”

  “Really, Belles, don’t worry about drinking my coffee. I’ll get myself another cup.” Nattie says, her voice dripping with sarcasm before grabbing another mug.

  Chloe hands Belle a hat and then makes her way to Tommy. “Look what I’ve got for you, bud.” Excited dark green eyes look up at Chloe as she produces another matching hat for Tommy, and . . . Aww. She got a baby hat for Rex the dinosaur too. An excited smile is plastered across his face as they get the hats on Rex and him. He runs to Belle, arms bouncing as he goes.

  “Look, Belle, look. We match!”

  She high fives her brother. “You ready to cheer on the guys?”

  “Yup. Let’s go watch them beat Kansas!”

  I can’t help but think “From your lips to God’s ears, kiddo.”

  There’s something electric about watching a game in person. It’s so different than watching it from home. It’s impossible to recreate the contagious excitement pulsing through the crowd. A hundred thousand people are in the stands today. As we make our way to our seats, we see some people don’t mind the cold weather. A few different groups of guys are topless with only body paint on from the waist up. Others have signs painted saying “RIP JD,” and “We’ll miss you, Jamie.” I think Murphy mentioned that the guys were wearing silver stickers on their black helmets today that say “#65 JD” in black print.

  When we get to our seats, we see Mrs. Murphy and Carys already seated. Her face lights up with excitement when she sees us. “Girls, Tommy, I’m so glad to see you. Are you ready to watch our boys destroy Kansas?”

  Carys rolls her eyes at her mom’s excitement, but the rest of us join in.

  It’s a weird mix of heartbreak and exhilaration as they announce the team and follow it with the dedication to Jamie and the national anthem. Something about seeing Murphy on that field has my heart beating faster.

  I’m excited.

  I’m nervous.

  I want him to do well.

  I want the team to win.

  But I think, most of all, I want him to feel good about himself when the clock runs out.

  44

  Murphy

  When I left Sabrina in bed this morning, I kissed her goodbye, and she told me to win.

  I think that may be easier said than done today. I head toward the locker room after the trainer finished stretching out my arm and taping me up for the game. When I walk back in, I notice something doesn’t feel right.

  I can’t explain it, but the room feels off somehow.

  I see Brady zoning out with his earbuds in his ears. Bash is getting his hands taped. Dixon has his helmet on as he smacks it, psyching himself up. We all have our own ways of getting ready for a game. I just don’t know that any of it will be enough after the shit week the team has had.

  Practices have been a mess.

  Morale is nonexistent.

  I don’t know how to turn it around.

  I don’t know if we’ve got it in us.

  Coach
Barnett walks into the room and over to the corner where the speaker system sits on a shelf. He shuts off the music and moves back to the center of the room. He isn’t the coach who typically gives the pregame speech. That’s usually Coach Phillips’ job. Pretty sure Coach Barnett must know that we need him today. He’s watched us struggle all week. He kept telling us we were better than this, that the way we were playing was beneath us.

  I think he’s the only one who can pull us together now.

  Coach calls us in to the center of the locker room. “Take a knee, men.”

  You can tell by the expression on his face and the fact he’s not making eye contact that this isn’t going to be a normal pregame speech. Coach Barnett isn’t a yeller. Coach Phillips is the loudest of our coaches. Coach Barnett is one of those guys who’s scarier when he’s quiet.

  Today, he’s quiet.

  “I recruited Jamie. I went to Iowa and recruited him myself. I went to his house. I sat at his table. I ate dinner with his parents. I met Charlotte that night. I convinced him to pass up the wrestling scholarship he was being offered at the University of Iowa and to come play for me. I sat there and promised his mother he’d be safe.”

  His shoulders raise and drop as he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I know you’re all upset. I know you’re hurting. I am too. Whatever guilt you have, I’m feeling it too. But the way you’ve practiced this week is a disgrace. It’s beneath you, and it’s beneath Jamie.” We can all feel Coach’s eyes searing through us.

  “Do you think he’d want you to lay down and feel sorry for yourselves? Because that’s what you’re doing.

  “Do you think he’d want to be the excuse you use when you lose this game? Because if you walk out onto that field and play the way you have all week in practice, you’re not gonna win. “You’re gonna hand them the win. Do you think that’s honoring Jamie?”

  Coach has gotten louder now. “This game. This game is personal. This is the game you’re gonna remember at the end of the season. How you choose to play this game is going to determine how you remember it. You’re hurting. Make them hurt worse. Make them scared of you. Make them scared to touch the ball. Make them scared you’re going to destroy them. Make them want to get back on the plane and go home.”

  “You’re angry. Take it out on them.” Coach’s eyes are starting to tear up. “You want to hit something? Hit them. Show them they can’t come into our house thinking they’re gonna push us around in a game dedicated to one of our captains.”

  Then Coach looks at me. “Play like Jamie would play.”

  Coach moves to the side of our circle as Coach Phillips moves into the center.

  “Bring it in, men!” he yells.

  Helmets are put on as we move in closer.

  Coach calls out, “Who’s house?”

  “Our house!” the team yells back.

  Coach calls out louder, “Who’s house?”

  We move in closer, as a single unit. You can feel the electricity surging through the locker room. We echo back, “Our house!”

  Coach’s booming voice can be heard vibrating throughout the halls. “Who’s house?”

  Shoulder to shoulder and bouncing on our toes, the response is nearly deafening.

  “OUR HOUSE!”

  The first play of the game, and this fucking team is gonna test me.

  The quarterback lines up in a shotgun formation.

  Receivers are spread, and the running back is to his right.

  They know I’m the new middle linebacker. They think I’m the weak spot, and this is my game to lose. Well, fuck them. This has been my position my whole life. Bring it on. Let’s see what you got. I get into position, ready.

  The quarterback takes the snap, fakes a pass, and hands off to the running back, who then bolts right up the middle.

  Big mistake, motherfucker.

  I attack.

  I don’t see the running back from Kansas U. I see the guy who killed my teammate, and I make him pay. I wrap my arms around him, lifting him up off his feet and driving my shoulder into his chest as I slam him to the ground.

  The ball comes loose, and Bash recovers it.

  He scoops it up and starts running toward the end zone. One of the Kansas receivers jumps on Bash’s back, trying to tackle him, but he can’t.

  Sebastian keeps running. He looks like a giant carrying this guy on his back as he scores, setting the tone for the whole game.

  By the time the clock runs out on the fourth quarter, the score is twenty-eight to zero.

  Kroydon won.

  We played angry football today.

  Our defense completely shut out their offense.

  Three Kansas players had to be helped off the field before halftime. None came back.

  I think Jamie would have been proud.

  Fuck that. I KNOW he would have.

  The locker room is a somber place as everyone showers and dresses to go home. There's no talk of a party at the football house tonight. We won. But it feels like we buried our friend today. I think I understand now why I didn't feel closure Wednesday after the memorial service. Today was my closure.

  Brady, Bash, and I rode together to the stadium, and we exit together like the unit we've been for years, shoulder-to-shoulder. The first thing I see as we walk out into the hall is exactly the comfort I need. Sabrina, Nattie, and Chloe are standing there, huddled together.

  My girl's long, dark hair is hanging in curls over her shoulders. Shoulders covered with my jersey. She's wearing my name. I fucking love it.

  Dropping my bag, I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her feet off the ground. I drop my face into her neck and inhale. Her scent washes over me, calming my soul. I just want to go home and lay wrapped up in this girl until the pain and overwhelming emotion of this day is a forgotten memory.

  She pulls back, placing her hands on my face. “You okay?”

  I kiss her gently. “I am now.”

  “You were freaking amazing out there, Aiden.” Her hands run through the strands of my hair.

  God, that feels good. I run my nose along the line of her neck.

  Somebody whistles.

  Chloe clears her throat. “Okay, okay. No more of that.” She wiggles her finger between us. “Keep that stuff behind closed doors.” She looks at the rest of our group. “What’s the game plan?”

  Sabrina slides down, planting her feet firmly on the floor. “I vote for low-key.”

  The guys and I murmur our agreement.

  Nattie offers up, “Pizza and wings?”

  “And beer.” Bash looks over to Brady and me. We both nod.

  I agree. “Just not Jack Daniels. No more Jack this week,” I groan.

  Coach Barnett stops next to us. “Gentlemen, don’t let me interrupt the talk of underage drinking while you’re still on school property.” Then he winks. “Go the hell home, then do what you want.” He squeezes my shoulder. “You’ve earned it.”

  Damn. “Thanks, Coach.”

  He walks away, not quite smiling but not angry either.

  I guess we need to take our cues from him.

  Once we get back to the house, the first thing I want to do is get the hell out of this suit. Then I really just want to fall into bed with my girl and sleep for the rest of the day. The rest of the house has other plans though. I’m pulling up my sweats when Brina slips inside my door and leans back against it.

  “Come on, big boy. Nattie just called in the food order. They said it should be twenty minutes.”

  I slip a t-shirt over my head and wrap my arms around her. “Can’t we just stay up here?”

  “Not yet. Let’s eat something and relax with everyone for a little bit. Then we can sneak back up here, and I’ll take care of you.”

  “What do you have in mind, Princess?”

  She leans in, her breath tickling my ear. “Anything you want. Now come on.”

  The group of us manages to lounge away the afternoon, crammed on the couches in t
he family room. We ordered enough food to feed a small country, or the three of us plus the girls. We’ve got pizza, wings, old bay fries, plain fries, onion rings, jalapeño poppers and cheesesteak eggrolls. I guarantee there won’t be anything left in a few hours.

  Somebody thought it would be a great idea to binge the first season of Stranger Things. Halfway through the search for Will Byers, I look over at Sabrina. Her long lashes fan those gorgeous eyes that look as tired as I feel. I took a pain pill after we ate, and it’s kicking in. Tucking a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, I lean in and whisper, “You ready for bed, Princess? I’m exhausted.”

  She smiles softly.

  Pulling my tired ass up and off the couch, I reach out for her. She places her hands in mine, and I pull her up too. “Night, guys. We’re going to bed.”

  Sabrina adds, “See you tomorrow.”

  Rocky sees us, gets up, and moves to circle our feet. Sabrina squeezes my hand. “Why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll walk Rocky and be right up.”

  “You sure?”

  She nods, then pulls away and walks to the leash that now hangs by the back door.

  I’m standing under the hot spray of the shower, both hands pressed flat to the wall, my head bent under the spray of the main showerhead. I’ve never hurt like this after a game before. I’m completely spent, physically and emotionally. I’m hoping the hot water can loosen up my muscles, but it’s not making a damn bit of difference. I don’t lift my head when I hear the bathroom door creak open. I don’t open my eyes. I know the look that will be on Sabrina’s face when she sees the bruising covering my skin.

  When the glass shower door cracks open and I feel the cool air hit me, I look up. I never want to miss her body being given to me so openly.