The First Score: A Best Friend's Brother Sports Romance

by Amie Knight

  “Breathe, baby.” His hands moved up and held each side of my face. “Breathe.” He pulled the hood off my head.

  And I tried to breathe. I stared into my favorite eyes in the world and promised myself I wasn’t going to cry. My Winnie loved me, like for real. And he wasn’t pulling any punches. I wanted to launch myself at him and hug him and simultaneously hide under my bed. God, it sucked being so fucked in the head.

  He breathed with me until I was calm minutes later and then he tried to hit me with another bomb. “There’s something else.”

  Pulling away from him, I backed up until my back hit the headboard. “I don’t think I can deal with something else today,” I squeaked out.

  His brow scrunched in concern. “We have to, Ha—”

  “No, no, no. We totally don’t have to.” I threw both hands out, feeling like something bigger was coming than I’m in love with you and I didn’t even know how something could be bigger than that, but I could tell something huge was coming. It was written all over his face.

  Oliver got up off the floor and walked to the middle of the bed on his knees before grabbing me up and leaning against the headboard and setting me in his lap. I cuddled in. I’m not ashamed to say that I needed someone to hold me at that moment and it didn’t matter one bit that he was the one dropping bombs.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he brought me as close as he could and kissed my forehead lovingly.

  “Are you ready?”

  I shook my head and buried it in his chest.

  I felt a long breath feather over my hair at the top of my head and I could hear his heart pounding quickly beneath my ear. “I’ve never had sex before. In fact, I’ve never even kissed a girl besides you.”

  Pure adrenaline hit my body and I sprang back, looking into his eyes to see how serious he was. Because this could not possibly be true. He looked completely, utterly, dead serious.

  I crawled off the bed slowly, eyeing him carefully. I stood up and walked across the room and then walked to the other side, completely avoiding the bed but shooting occasional glances at the supposed virgin in my bed.

  Oliver was quiet and his usual patient self. But I had so many questions. I tried to think back on conversations or nights out where he was surrounded by girls. I’d never seen him go home with any of them, but I’d definitely seen him flirt. And I tried to remember if he’d ever told me or Scarlett that he’d had sex or that he wasn’t a virgin and I couldn’t remember a single time either of those things happened.

  But he was so gorgeous. So very appealing. How the hell was he a twenty-three-year-old virgin?

  “How?” I asked, pacing in front of the bed, back and forth and chewing on a nail.

  “Easy.”

  “That’s not a damn answer, Oliver. How the hell are you still a virgin? I’ve seen plenty of girls throw themselves at you.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest and I realized how big he looked in my queen-sized bed. His body covered almost the entire thing. And his biceps only looked bigger with his arms like that. I tried not to notice how sexy he was right then. But I was failing miserably.

  “It’s easy not to have sex when the only girl you want to have sex with has friend zoned the hell out of your ass.”

  Shaking my head quickly back and forth, I left the room and Oliver and walked through the living room and the kitchen and went straight out onto the back porch. I’d passed Pops in the kitchen cutting up some kind of fruit. I stared out at the yard.

  I looked at the little empty greenhouse thinking this was the time to start smoking marijuana and now I had none. Oh, the irony.

  He loved me. He was a virgin. And I knew he wasn’t telling me this for any ole willy-nilly reason. He wouldn’t have told me any of it, if he didn’t want something more with me. And that scared the hell out of me. It also elated me. I was so mixed up right then, I didn’t know up from down.

  “Come on in here, Hazel. And talk to me while I cook.”

  I rubbed my hand to my aching heart, because it wanted Oliver more than anything in the world. But my mind. It told me to run like hell. It was always the problem. I knew it was because I’d been hurt so bad. My mind was always on guard, but my heart was still so damn hopeful.

  I walked into the house and sat at the dining table in the kitchen.

  “You off today?” Pops asked.

  “Yep and tomorrow.”

  Oliver came into the room and sat caddy corner me. I didn’t dare look at him even though my hopeful heart begged me to.

  Pops came and stood by the table. “Since you guys stayed out so late last night I’m going to cook you up some brunch. I’ve almost finished prepping.”

  I tried to muster up a smile. “That’s sweet, Pops.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “I’m so excited. My girl is home for the next two days. I’m going to have to come up with something for us to do.”

  I kept up my pretense of a smile. “Sounds good, Pops.”

  He threw me a wink as he walked back toward the counter about ten feet away to start cooking. “You know my favorite days are Hazey days.”

  My sweet Pops. I wondered if he even had an inkling that I was sitting here with my world completely rocked.

  “You know, he’s right.” Oliver gave a head nod toward the kitchen where my pops was cooking, but his smiling eyes stayed on me. Damn him, why was he so unbelievably, boyishly sweet?

  I couldn’t help but give him a small smile back, damn him. “About what?” I took the bait, my body tired, my soul worn down, my heart swimming with emotion.

  Every bit of playfulness gone from his gaze, he whispered, “All of my favorite days are Hazey days, too.”

  I looked away. I couldn’t stand to see it. The feeling hanging there in his eyes like a full, bright moon hung up in a midnight sky. I’d push it down, this feeling. I’d bury it away. My heart grew five times in my chest, but my mind warned me away. Swallowing hard, I cocked my head back toward him and faked a crooked grin. “Oh, come on, Winnie…” I started.

  Leaning forward quickly, his body ate up the small space between us in an instant. Fresh cut grass and mint hit my nose and I breathed deep, our gazes locked, my heart racing a thousand miles a minute.

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t make light of my feelings, Hazel. I’m tired of it. I’m done with pretending. I’m finished with the bullshit.” His voice was low, for only me to hear. He scoffed. “You think I don’t know what you were trying to say last night? You want to treat me like the others. You want to fuck me and forget me.”

  The heat and anger radiating from him pricked at my skin like a thousand tiny needles, so I leaned back, but quick as a whip his hand shot out and wrapped around my neck, pulling me close enough my knees were between his and his forehead rested against mine. My small dining room chair creaked under the weight of a muscled Oliver.

  My eyes darted to Pops across the kitchen, but he was none the wiser and if he was he was damn good at hiding it. I mentally implored him to look my way. I needed saving. I wasn’t ready for this. I needed more time to process everything.

  Oliver let out a long breath, drawing my attention back to him. “It won’t happen that way, you know?” he said softer, gentler, his sweet breath ghosting across my lips. “You won’t be able to fuck me out of your system, Hazel. It won’t work that way with us.”

  My heart leapt in my chest even as my stomach sank with dread. I felt a stupid tear slip down my cheek and I hated it. I hated how much he made me feel. And I loved it. I loved it more than anything on the planet.

  His hand on the side of my neck tightened as his other came up to rest on my cheek. His thumb swept away that embarrassing tear. Because he knew. Oliver Winston Knox knew how much I’d loathe for him to see me cry. He knew me like no other. It was awful. It was wonderful.

  I clenched my eyes closed, warring with myself, battling with demons I didn’t want to face.

  His nose brushed against mine, his lips a mere breath awa
y when he said, “You know I haven’t been saving myself for marriage, Hazel. I’ve been saving myself for you. And when I have you, there won’t be any fucking.” He paused and drew in a shaky breath. “No, baby. I’m going to strip you bare and lay you down in my bed. I’m going to kiss every inch of that golden skin, even the scarred bits. And when I finally slide into you, I’ll be making love to you, not fucking you.” His hands cradled the sides of my face. “Do you understand me?”

  My eyes flew open, taking in his sincere ones and another fresh tear slipped down and onto his fingers. Of their own accord, my trembling hands lifted until they covered each of his wrapped around my face. I didn’t know whether to push him away or hold him closer. I just knew that with every word, he was stealing what was left of my heart. What little he hadn’t claimed already.

  “Please,” I breathed, begged even. I didn’t know for what. But I was sitting at my small dinette with my pops ten feet away and my heart was breaking and not just for me. But for sweet Ollie. Because I wasn’t who he thought I was. I wasn’t who he needed me to be. I wasn’t his one. I was too broken. Too damaged. He deserved everything and I had nothing to offer.

  “Please what? Stop loving you?” The anger was back, bright and hot between us. His eyes narrowed on mine. “You think I’ve been saving myself since our first kiss, Hazel. But all I’ve been doing is saving your heart. Waiting and giving you time, respecting your wishes. You’re mine and fucking me won’t change that. It won’t get me out of your system. I’m not like the other guys and you know it.” He gave a low, mean chuckle. “How can you think you won’t miss me after I’ve been between your thighs?”

  He pressed his lips to mine in a closed mouth kiss destined to bust down all of my walls, and it wasn’t like all those years ago at all. It wasn’t sweet or naïve or filled with the innocence of a sixteen-year-old boy. It wasn’t full of desperation like that day at the game shop. It was full of passion and anger and longing. So much was said in that kiss, he didn’t have to say anything at all, but he did.

  “You already miss me and I haven’t even touched you.”

  Those words were a growl against my mouth and a knife straight to the heart.

  God, he was right. I wanted him. More than I wanted anything in the world. And I did, I missed him. So much. At night when I was lying in bed. When I was lonely. Which was most of the time. I wanted to call him. I wanted to text him. I wore that sweatshirt of his to bed so much it didn’t even smell like him anymore. I was a fool.

  I could have sat right there and cried, but that just wasn’t me. I was a fighter. So I pulled myself up by my big girl panties and decided I had a bomb to drop of my own. I just hoped it didn’t piss him off. But I couldn’t let him go on and on pouring his heart out to me when I wasn’t being completely honest with him. So, I did something I never thought I was going to have to do.

  “I knew it was you, Winnie.” I gulped, feeling panicky, itchy, like I could crawl right out of my skin in that moment. But he needed to know. It was only the right thing to do. It was okay for me to lie to myself, which Lord knew I had been, but it was another completely different thing to lie to Oliver anymore. It had gone on way too long and he needed to know. He deserved to know. Especially now.

  His forehead crinkled. “What are you talking about?”

  I couldn’t look at him. He was going to lose his mind and he had every right. “Gray Wolfe. I knew you were Gray Wolfe.”

  Those wrinkles on his forehead grew deeper and he looked confused. So damn confused, but I knew the moment he understood what I was saying. The shock across his face unmistakable.

  “The whole time?” he breathed, even more stunned than I thought he would be.

  Slowly nodding, I answered, “Yeah.” It was a shameful whisper. I’d made him feel so bad about tricking me. But he’d never tricked me. I’d only tricked myself. In the beginning I thought it would be fun to let him think he got me. But then he did actually get me. He got me in a way that only my Winnie ever had and then I didn’t want it to end. That night when he’d outed himself I’d been so mad at him. He’d ruined our good thing. I was sad. I was angry at myself for letting it go as far as it had. But mostly I was devastated that it was over. We’d just have to go back to being Ollie and Hazel. When Gray and Hazeyeyes were so much freer, sweeter. It felt like a bad breakup. With Gray I didn’t have to worry about what Scarlett thought and if things didn’t work out with Gray, they wouldn’t affect my relationship with Oliver. Gray and Hazeyeyes could be and do whatever they wanted without suffering the consequences of broken hearts and shattered relationships.

  “How?” he breathed, shocked, almost dazed looking.

  “How what?” I asked. Curious if he meant how could I be such a heartless bitch and blame him even though I knew or how I’d figured it out.

  He blinked slowly, his eyes faraway. “How did you know?”

  I chewed on the side of my thumbnail nervously. Because now that this cat was out of the bag, I was going to have to let them all out and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that. But still, I owed it to him. I owed him all my truths. Lord knew he’d given me plenty of his today.

  “The game, Winnie. It’s mine. I made Hadrian’s Wall.”

  The forehead crinkle was back in full force.

  “No one can access that game unless I give them the information. You were there the day I passed along the server and password information to Drew. I knew it was you from the moment you logged on and made that stupid fake profile. And I tracked your IP address just to make sure.”

  His hazel eyes were huge and a crooked, surprised smile that looked an awful lot like awe crossed his face. “You made Hadrian’s Wall? Like you developed it?”

  I nodded, feeling a little relieved he wasn’t more upset with me right now.

  He grabbed my hand tightly, excitement washing over his features. “Hazel, do you know how amazing that is? How freaking awesome that fucking game is! Oh my God, why haven’t you told everyone?”

  I smiled awkwardly, not really expecting for things to go down that way. “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. But I knew why I hadn’t told anyone about it. It would mean putting myself out there. And I was too damn scared to do it. Too scared of rejection. Too scared of failure.

  “Wow, my mind is blown right now, Hazel. I’m trying really hard to comprehend all of this. Just give me a minute.”

  “Take your time.” But I didn’t want him to take his time. I was dreading it because I knew the more he thought about it the more he would realize what an asshole I was for not telling him I knew.

  “So you knew the whole time? You catfished the catfisher?” He seemed mostly impressed by my ability to lie to him.

  “Yep.” I couldn’t believe he wasn’t yelling at me or telling me what a dick I was. I didn’t know why I couldn’t believe it. Oliver Knox had the patience and love of a saint. He’d always been understanding and wonderful. He’d always been supportive even when he hadn’t understood things. He’d always been there. And that was a hell of a lot more than most people had been in my life.

  He was doing this weird slowly bobbing his head up and down thing and staring off in the distance. “So, you knew during the video call?”

  I gave a hard swallow, surprised as hell he brought that up right away. And I was determined to act like I didn’t know what the ever-loving hell he was talking about. “I’m sorry. What video call?” I diverted my eyes.

  I needed to find something to distract him. Abort abort abort.

  Liquid heat filled his eyes. “You know exactly what video call I’m talking about, Hazel.”

  “Okay, kids, Pops’s brunch is done. I hope y’all are ready for all this goodness.”

  I wasn’t usually ready for whatever Pops conjured up on the rare days that he cooked, but I was hella ready now. Because anything was better than having this conversation with Oliver.

  “Yes!” I said more enthusiastically than I’d ever said anything in my life.
>
  Pops set quesadillas with eggs, cheese, and mushrooms inside and fruit on the side in front of me and Ollie. But Oliver’s heated eyes never left me and I knew I was caught. So damn caught.

  “You knew about it during the video.” His gaze nearly burned me up. “God, it’s even hotter now. I bet you were so wet for me,” he whispered.

  “Winnie!” I yelled, giving him an I will kill you stare as Pops came back with coffee and then grabbed his plate to join us.

  He sat down at the table, took a sip of his coffee, and looked at both of us.

  Oliver was wearing a ridiculous smile while he shoveled food in his mouth and I was still dying of embarrassment, so I hadn’t touched anything yet.

  “Listen, Oliver, no smooches or dirty talk at the table. It’s inappropriate, ya know?”

  Oliver choked on his quesadilla and I stood up to pound on his back and yelled at Pops. “You should not eavesdrop, old man. It’s rude and how the hell did you hear all that anyway?” I kept beating on Oliver’s back and then ran to get him a glass of water when the coughing seemed to calm down.

  “I turned my hearing aids up. How the hell else am I supposed to know what’s going on with you two? You don’t tell me shit.”

  Filling the glass of water up, I turned to glare at Pops. “I don’t tell you about us because it’s none of your damn business!”

  I brought the glass over to Oliver and he took a few healthy pulls while I sat down and sipped my coffee, completely giving up on the idea of eating. I was too mortified.

  Oliver cleared his throat and then looked over at Pops. “I’m sorry. Mr. Price. I’ll try to keep things more private next time.”

  Pops patted him on the back. “That’s the idea, my boy. She has a room, ya know. And there’s always your place. Hell, you can take her to the movies and smooch her all you wa—”

  “Oh my God, Pops. Stop it right now!” My face was burning red and I wanted to crawl under the damn dining table and hide for the rest of my life.

  I heard a weird grunt from Oliver and looked over to find him trying his best not to laugh. His mouth was hidden behind his hand, but his eyes were dancing with mirth.