Romance: Teen Romance: Game On (A Nerd and a Bad Boy Romance) (New Adult High School Sports Romance)

by White, Stella

  “Who the hell are you,” I said.

  He was a biker; tall and broad shouldered with a bald head and a patchy beard.

  “You Tara?” he asked gruffly.

  I contemplated telling him no. But, didn’t think that would really help right now.

  “Yeah,” I said while gripping the shotgun tighter.

  “I got a message for you.”

  He held out a crumpled piece of paper and dropped it in my outstretched hand. I unfurled it as best I could so I could make out the writing.

  “Tara, I don’t buy the engagement. You have one day to make good on your marriage, or I’m coming after the gang. –Connor,” read the note.

  My hand shook as I finished reading the note. I wanted to respond, but the biker that dropped off the note was already riding off down the road along with a couple of his friends.

  There was only one thing I could do at this point. I had to tell Buck what I just heard. He would know what to do; he always knows what to do.

  5.

  I arrived at the tavern, shortly after, in a panic. When I stumbled my way in I felt everyone’s eyes on me. I sought out Buck immediately and hurried to meet him.

  “Buck, I got news, and it isn’t good,” I said as I handed him the note.

  He took it and read, then turned it over looking for more writing.

  “This it?” he said.

  I was surprised by his careless demeanor. He barely batted an eye after he finished reading.

  “Yeah, Buck. You know what this means, don’t you?” I asked.

  “I do. It means that we have to make the marriage a real thing,” he replied coldly.

  I sat on the stool and rested my head in my hands.

  “I don’t think that will work, this time, Buck,” I said.

  He snapped open a beer and set it down in front of me.

  “I don’t take threats lying down. He’s calling our bluff, simple as that. I’m thinking I should go give him an invite to the wedding, personally.”

  Buck pulled his shotgun from behind the bar. I knew what his invites were like, and they usually came at you fast.

  “Buck, don’t do this,” I said putting a hand on his arm.

  “I know what the note means, Tara. Whether we get married or not, he don’t care. He’s itching for a fight, just like me. I’m going to make sure that he doesn’t get the first punch,” he said.

  The door flung open again, and in walked a bloody mess of a man. I ran over to him to hold him up; a couple other guys followed along.

  “What happened,” I asked, “it looks like you rolled your cycle?”

  The biker did his best to smile. I laid him out on a nearby table and was quickly surrounded by the rest of the gang that was there. Buck stomped over and looked the man up and down for a second.

  “Two of them…” started the injured biker, “… they ran me off the road, into a ditch… then they bolted … Connor’s boys.”

  “This is becoming too much of a habit,” Buck said angrily, “those bastards are going to get what’s coming to them.”

  The rest of the motorcycle club cheered. This was the start of something which I didn’t want to get involved in. I shouldn’t have come back.

  “Buck, I can’t do this anymore,” I said, “I’m going home.”

  Buck grabbed my shoulder with his massive hand.

  “Tara, I didn’t want you goin’ anyway. Take care of your momma.”

  It was the last thing I thought he’d say. When we were younger, he wouldn’t have ridden off unless I was right behind him. But, now he didn’t want me. I was hoping he would have grabbed me and forced me to come along, just like the old days. He could have, and I would have followed along with a smile.

  “Goodbye, Buck,” I said.

  “Goodbye, Tara.” He sighed and gave me a push toward the door.

  Now that he wasn’t holding me, I felt something missing. I wanted to run back into his arms and just run away. An overpowering thought started running through my head; I thought this would be the last time I would see him.

  I turned to look at him while I walked out the door. He smiled at me. It wasn’t his regular smile; it felt like he trying to say ‘goodbye and thanks for the memories.'

  I steeled myself and rode home. I could do little to hide my tears anymore, and they flowed freely.

  6.

  I tried to take my mind off the events that were unfolding. I wanted to get on my motorcycle and join in on the chaos that was probably ensuing. Then I would see my mother, lying in bed, barely able to move.

  I knew where I was needed, and it wasn’t in a warzone. Buck could handle himself; I just had to stay positive. I waited by the phone, expecting a phone call at any moment; one that would never come.

  “You look nervous, Tara,” my mother said.

  “There’s a lot going on right now,” I replied.

  “What’s keeping you inside? You used to like going for rides when you were like this, before. Is it something that Buck did?”

  I wondered if I should tell her the truth.

  “No, momma, it’s nothing. Just get back to sleep,” I said in a vain attempt at assuaging her curiosity.

  “I’m not stupid, Tara. You could just tell me that Buck is off doing something crazy, like beating up a rival gang.”

  I wondered how she knew, and my open mouth and gasps did nothing but prove her point.

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “You know I was your father’s wife,” she said, “There’s a reason there weren’t any other motorcycle clubs around when you were growing up. And, I was there for most of them. Why aren’t you with Buck right now?”

  “He sent me home, he didn’t want me there,” I said honestly.

  “He didn’t want you there because he couldn’t stand the possibility of you getting’ hurt, Tara.”

  I knew what she was saying was the truth. Buck really did love me, and I just seemed to slap him in the face every time he showed it.

  “I gotta go, Momma,” I said as I ran to the closet and threw on my jacket.

  “Take the shotgun with you,” she said, “I won’t need it.”

  I did as I was told, and lumbered out with the shotgun in tow. My heart raced as I knew that was I had planned on doing was incredibly crazy. I also was scared of what Buck would do if we actually survived this.

  I rode as fast as I could; I didn’t really know where. But, the place that was most famous for settling disputes was the old quarry. I wondered what I would do when I got there. Sometimes it’s best not to know.

  7.

  I was still half a mile out, and I could hear engines in the distance. The roaring thunder of motorcycles gathered in mass. It was impossible to make that sound any other way.

  Rounding the corner, I saw Buck and the gang standing in a stalemate on the north side, while Connor and his gang were lined up on the south side. I could see the two men yelling at each other, but couldn’t make out what they were saying over all the noise.

  I cut a path through the bikers, heading straight for Buck, coming to a screeching halt just in front of him.

  He looked at me with rage.

  “What the hell are you doing here,” he shouted.

  “Why the hell wouldn’t I be here,” I shouted in response.

  “Because I need to know you’ll be okay, get the hell home, now!”

  “I’m not leaving your side, not until this is all through,” I said.

  I took my place next to him, lifting the shotgun under my arm. Connor looked over at the two of us and laughed.

  “I guess you guys really do love each other,” he said.

  I looked up at Buck who didn’t change his expression in the slightest.

  “I won’t ever leave my man,” I shouted.

  Buck leaned over and pulled me in for a hug. I forgot how strong he was; it felt like he would break me in half with the force of it. I didn’t want him to stop, and I don’t think he wanted to either.
>
  “Buck, I thought you loved me,” I heard a screeching woman’s voice say.

  Looking over, I saw that Gracie had decided to come. I wanted to put her in her place, but I didn’t want to be the person pulling the trigger first.

  “Gracie, you better crawl back into whatever hole you just crawled out of,” I shouted, only for Buck to throw his hand over my mouth.

  “I can speak for myself, Tara,” he said.

  He took a couple of steps forward. The lights of the other cycles were near blinding, and I couldn’t make out anyone’s face behind Connor and Gracie.

  “Gracie, you know what we did. We weren’t nothin’ more than a good afternoon. Just tell your brother you’re done, and this whole feud can come to an end.”

  Gracie started laughing.

  “You think we were just some afternoon fun? I thought we were something more than that. My brother is going to kick your ass,” she said.

  “Connor, can you control that woman? I don’t think she speaks for you,” Buck said.

  Connor rubbed his forehead and clenched his teeth.

  “Gracie, shut the hell up. We’re tryin’ to hash this out without people getting’ killed and you’re just makin’ things worse,” Connor said.

  “You’re takin’ his side, instead of your own sister,” Gracie said, “what the hell is wrong with you, Connor?”

  Connor turned and gave her a good smack across the cheek.

  “You heard me, Gracie. Stop talking,” he said.

  Gracie panicked. She started pounding her fists into Connor’s chest, but he didn’t budge. She cried and wailed, then collapsed to her knees a crying mess.

  “Connor, I got no beef with you or your gang. I just want us all to walk out of here and forget any of this happened,” Buck said.

  Connor thought for a moment, looking to his sister crying on the ground. I could see his embarrassment at having her by his side.

  “Gracie, get up,” Connor said.

  He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the loose gravel. She didn’t resist, and just seemed to have lost all interest in what was happening.

  Connor pulled her back and sat her on his motorcycle. She sat without a sound, motionless. Then Connor turned back to Buck and me.

  “Buck, I got nothing against you. I was just tryin’ to do right by my sister. When you said you were gettin’ married to Tara, I thought you were joking. I had a feeling you were just saying that ‘cause you didn’t want to end up with Gracie. I don’t blame you; if she weren’t family, things would have been different.

  “Get outta here, Buck,” Connor said.

  He backed up and eased back on his cycle, and kicked it started.

  “You got a hell of a girl there,” Connor Added.

  “I really do,” Buck said.

  Buck turned and started walking back towards me. I was glad things ended so easily and without a fight. Then again, I did miss watching Buck get ornery.

  “I’m the only one you should ever love,” shouted Gracie, then she turned her gaze toward me, “he would love me if you were dead!”

  Gracie held up a revolver, taking aim straight at me. I started to duck, and I felt everything start to move incredibly slowly. I looked at Buck, who had a horrified expression.

  I could remember the first time I saw him. He wasn’t as big then, but he was scrappy. I wondered if he ever thought about me when we were younger. There are worse ways to die; I wouldn’t be able to dodge at this distance.

  I closed my eyes as I heard the shot, and I waited for the pain that would follow, but it never came.

  I opened my eyes a second later to see Buck hovering over me. Blood poured from an open wound in his shoulder. I stared into his big eyes and he in mine.

  “I love you,” Buck said.

  “Don’t die,” I squeaked out.

  “Ugh, it’s just a shoulder shot,” he replied, “I didn’t like that tattoo anyway.”

  He collapsed on top of me. I didn’t realize how much he really weighed until then.

  8.

  Everything was a blur for the rest of that night. We ended up at a hospital where he got his shoulder sewn shut. I stayed with him the whole time, and we exchanged knowing glances.

  He wasn’t the man I remembered at all. I wanted to hold him and never let him go. I knew he would always be there to protect me, and that was a feeling I never wanted to lose.

  Connor turned in his own sister for what she’d done. I think he knew that if Buck decided to come after her, she wouldn’t have made it far. Connor even visited him in the hospital to make amends.

  The next morning the hospital released Buck. He was built like a tank, and it would’ve taken a lot more to do him in.

  I met him out front with his motorcycle, the old hand me down he received from father. With his arm still in a sling, he hopped on the cycle.

  “I think I’ll take the lead on this one, Buck. You can’t brake with only one arm,” I said.

  “This is my bike; I’m the only one in this saddle,” he said.

  I cocked and eye, the same look my mother gave me a million times. It always worked on my father when he was alive, and it looked like it might just work with Buck.

  He let out a drawn out sigh and scooted to the back seat of the bike. I hopped into the driver seat, and he threw his arm around my stomach.

  I finally felt like I was home.

  *****

  THE END

  COLLEGE Romance Collection – College Desires

  The College Rockstar – A College Rockstar Romance

  Chapter one

  He likened an angel in a heavenly chorus.

  That is, whenever any random angel in a heavenly chorus decided to set aside the commonplace harp and pick up a wicked hot axe in its place.

  Cara Donahue sat at a quiet corner table at Night Grooves, a low-lit night club that formed the eastern border of the campus at Primswell University. She stared with wide eyes at the man who stood center stage at the crowded, compact club; the ebullient backdrop of a red scarlet curtain seeming a perfect accent to his ethereal show.

  She listened enrapt as the statuesque man before her, a beautiful vision of flowing golden hair, wide azure eyes, bronzed chiseled features and—for an angel at least—a downright devilish smile, performed a rousing rock instrumental titled “Nightsong.”

  "This is an original composition,” she whispered as an aside to her companion at the table, a petite blonde who rolled her blue eyes heavenward in response to this news.

  “You don’t say?” sniffed Morgan Cleary, Cara’s roommate and partner in crime (well, as much crime as two relatively sedate English lit majors possibly could muster). “You’ve only told me that at least once during each of the eight consecutive evenings that we’ve spent here, hidden in the corner and drinking lukewarm beer while we drool profusely over the object of your desire.”

  Cara shook her head.

  “Ian so is not the object of my desire,” she mumbled these last words in a low abashed tone, even as her rebellious bespectacled eyes devoured the sublime vision of the angel with the guitar; an angel dressed tonight in a skin tight leather jumpsuit that accentuated every muscle of his tall, statuesque form.

  Not that she noticed.

  “Look, I just love his music OK?” Cara insisted, turning briefly to regard her smirking roommate as she added, “Imagine one of our very own classmates, cutting a CD and touring the state with his own brand of classic rock—all before graduation! If only I could have the same luck with that novel, I’m trying to sell.” She paused here. She then piled a small mound of chocolate covered peanuts unceremonious between her lips. “You would think that some big city—or, what the heck, even small city—publisher would jump all over a steampunk version of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, with some mild picaresque themes subtly intertwined. No accounting for taste in the world of modern publishing, I guess.”

  Morgan chuckled.

  “It’ll happen, Sis. And in
the meantime, you’ll always have your tutoring job waiting for you at the student services building,” her roommate reminded her, nodding in the direction of the performer onstage. “And if you really are just an admirer of Ian McGovern’s music, then why are you shy about talking to him?”

  Cara bit her lip.

  “Well maybe I have yet to garner the courage to actually, you know, speak to him,” she admitted with an awkward shrug. “But I did manage to move up a couple of rows from the last show—so potentially, if he ever lifts his head from that blasted guitar at any point and time, we could indeed make eye contact. Potentially.”

  Just then the object of her—um—admiration did indeed raise his head from the blasted guitar; his full moist lips graced with a slight frown as he seemed to be trying to figure out just who was talking through his show.

  “Oh drat it to blazes,” Cara released through gritted teeth, adding as she jumped from her seat and ran some skittish hands down the length of the basic black dress that covered her Rubenesque form, “We’ve been found out. Code red! Let’s go!”

  Just then she realized she’d said these words out loud; intensifying her ire as she grabbed the hand of her wide-eyed friend and ran for the door—the tousled strands of her cocoa brown hair flying like a banner posted to note the moment of her complete and total humiliation.

  She froze before the door of the club, her cheeks flushing red hot as she heard a round of deep melodic laughter erupt from the stage behind them; followed by the opening strings of a rhythmic mid-tempo rock tune whose title and theme she knew all too well.

  “Baby don’t go,” Ian howled, his deep throaty voice and stirring guitar riffs still searing her senses—even as they drove her straight out the door. “Please don’t leave me behind you, craving your light and your love.”

  “Cha, very funny dude,” she mumbled, adding as she and her stunned friend made fast tracks out the door, “All that I’m craving right now is cab fare. Or the timely arrival of a bus. Or a friggin’ unicycle. You know, whatever works.”

  What was not working, she decided quickly, was this entire disaster of an evening.