Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  “Rhonda's taking classes here, too. She's only a year short of a degree in biology, something about molecules and shit.” Flor shrugged like he couldn't be bothered, but I knew he was smarter than that. He always enjoyed playing the stupid card, brushing things off like they didn't matter. I knew better. I wondered if Rhonda did, too? “I came to pick her up, but she got dragged into some study group thing.” He shrugged again, and I resisted the urge to punch him. You fucked me in the bathroom while she cooked dinner for you, you fucking dick. My brain refused to admit that I was a wholly willing participant in the act.

  I swallowed and twisted the cap off my soda. It was flat and warm now, but drinking it gave me an excuse not to talk.

  “Thought I'd come visit my favorite dope and let you know that Rhonda and I will be at dinner tonight.” The words slipped from his lips like he didn't care, but there was a reason he was telling me. Something quiet and implicit said don't make a scene, Abigail. “Thought you might want to invite Max, too. Mom's really excited about the baby.” Flor's voice broke on the word baby, took on that husky quality that reminded me so much of my own, but he recovered quickly. “The more people she can share the news with, the better.”

  I nodded, but I didn't speak. Couldn't, actually. My voice was too tied down, wrapped up in heavy emotions that sunk to the bottom of my belly like a lead weight. I took a set of cement steps too quickly and nearly fell, stopped only by Flor's fingers on my upper arm. The warm sureness of his grip, the rough brush of fingertips against my skin, it was all too much. I wrenched myself away from him and took off down the sidewalk at an even quicker pace.

  “Are you running away from me?” he asked, struggling to keep up. Well, I guess struggling wasn't exactly the right word. Flor kept pace with me like it was nothing. It was only me that was out of breath. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. When will this torture end? Could I ever look at Flor without hurting? Without wishing? Maybe it would've been better if I'd left for college, flew away and never came back? “Abigail.”

  “Florian.”

  I stopped and spun on my heels, forcing him to rock back to keep from running straight into me. I wondered what the other students thought as they streamed around me, eyes straight ahead but attention focused. Even if they were pretending not to be interested in what was going on, they were. Such is the nature of humanity.

  I stepped close to my stepbrother, clutching my soda bottle like a shield against my feelings, against the deliciously wicked heat of his body. Hormones clutched at me, choked me until all I could feel was the wetness between my legs, the ghostly memory of Flor's body inside of mine.

  “I will not do this with you. I will not go back to playing the sister-brother game just because you're upset.” Flor took a sudden step back and jammed his fingers through his thick shock of hair, eyes squeezed shut and lips pursed. The expression made the black metal of his piercings stand out like swords against his pale skin.

  A group of girls moved past us, their eyes lingering longer than was socially acceptable, drinking in Florian in a way I'd seen a thousand times, a million, whatever. Anger, wild and scalding, took hold inside of me and I couldn't keep the words back.

  “You … how can you keep pretending like things are okay between us? You were there on that rooftop with me, Flor. For a split second, I wasn't your little sister, and I wasn't just a piece of ass. I was a girl that you liked.” My voice caught again and I had to stop and force myself to take another breath. “A girl that you loved. Why are we taking one step forward, two steps back?”

  “My mom is having a fucking baby!” Flor screamed, stepping close to me again, taking hold of my shoulders. His grip was gentler than the wild look in his eyes, the muscles in his arms straining as he struggled not to grab hold of me and do … what? That was the real clincher here. Hold me? Shove me away? I didn't know and that scared me. “My mom, your dad. Baby. Our little sister or brother, Abigail. That's a pretty big deal.”

  “It doesn't have to be,” I said, tears streaming freely now. Why did it feel like I spent a good majority of my time on this earth crying? Over Flor. Grr. “It doesn't have to be the end of this.” I touched a palm to his chest, fingers splayed over his heart.

  “This?” Flor hissed at me, drawing back, letting go of my arms. His eyes were wild storms and his hands were shaking when he clenched them by his sides. “There is no this, Abigail. You're my sister and that's that. End of discussion.”

  Oh hell no.

  I swiped the tears away with the sleeve of my Oregon Ducks hoodie and glared daggers at him.

  “You're a know-it-all and a jerk sometimes, Florian. Just because you're a few years older than me doesn't mean you know everything.” He started to walk away and I moved after him. “It doesn't mean you can tell me what to do, boss me around, pretend like you don't have feelings for me.” He just kept walking, up those same steps I'd stumbled down. “All it means is that you don't know shit!” I screamed, fully aware that people were now blatantly staring at us, all polite facades dropped and tossed to the side.

  Flor paused and turned to glare over his shoulder at me.

  “You're my sister, Abigail. Now and forever. I messed up, but it won't happen again.”

  “That's what you call it then?” I scoffed, hating the sound of my own voice. “Fucking me against the bathroom door while your girlfriend cooks dinner? That's messing up.” Flor scowled at me and turned back around, pausing and then taking a step back, like he'd been shot or something. I followed his gaze up and found … Rhonda. Wide eyed and staring, she took her own step back, spun and fled towards the parking lot.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Somehow, miraculously, I made it to family dinner that evening, climbing the cement steps to the green front door with my heart in my throat and a bouquet of flowers clutched in my hand. Despite everything, I felt bad for running out the night River imparted her joyous news on us. A cluster of carnations might not do anything to make up for that, but I hoped the effort would help.

  I tried the front door; it was unlocked, as usual.

  “Hello?” I called, pushing my way inside and letting the door close softly behind me. The soft bubbling of boiling water greeted me along with the smell of something savory and rich, most likely more of my stepmother's infamous appetizers.

  “In here, honey,” River called and I joined her in the kitchen, looking around for my dad – or Flor. Addi was currently still in the car, finishing up a conversation with her parents. Being away from her family was hard for her I knew, and I felt sick about that, too. Just one more tally to my guilt list. “Are those for me?” River asked, taking the bouquet from my hands with a gentle smile. “Thank you, Abigail.” I nodded and took a seat on the same bench I'd sat on the night Flor and I had had our first time. I wondered where he was, and if he was still coming.

  Rhonda knows.

  I couldn't let that thought worm its way into my head or I'd panic. There was no end to the things she could do with that information – like come here and make this family dinner even more miserable than I already knew it was going to be.

  “Is Flor coming?” I asked, fishing for information. If he wasn't though, I doubt River would know otherwise. It wasn't like he communicated all of his comings and goings to her. She shrugged and I watched as she navigated the kitchen with ease, effortlessly, in a way I couldn't even begin to imitate.

  “You know him,” she said, and the words stuck in my ears, muddled my thoughts even further. I did, and that was the problem. I tapped my fingers on the countertop and felt my heart stutter when the front door opened.

  “Just me,” Addi called, like she could sense the unease in me. She'd been giving me looks since I'd stumbled in the door, dazed and admittedly a little terrified. If Rhonda was anything like some of Flor's past girlfriends, she'd do anything to get back at him, make him suffer for whatever it was he'd done to her. Calling the parents and letting them know their stepchildren were fucking would certa
inly check off a box on the revenge list.

  Addi found us in the kitchen and congratulated my stepmom before moving over to the appetizers and scanning this week's smorgasbord with hungry eyes. I knew if I didn't eat anything, River would be all over me, but I couldn't seem to make myself care. Just the idea of putting food in my tumultuous stomach made the tingling ache in my belly that much worse.

  I grabbed a plate anyway and piled it with olives, twirling a toothpick in my fingers as the awkward silence in the kitchen stretched three ways. Addi kept giving me looks, but I had no idea what to say to make things better.

  “Abigail,” River began, just as the front door opened again. This time, when I heard the pound of boots across the floor, I knew it was Florian. I stared really, really hard at my plate and tried to swallow past the cottony dryness of my throat. “Flor, honey.” River moved out of my view to kiss her son's cheek. I refused to let my eyes stray in that direction. “Where's Rhonda?” First words out of her mouth, of course.

  “Rhonda couldn't make it,” Flor said and I wondered if his mother could hear the clench of his teeth as well as I could. “Hey, Abigail. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I looked up and found Florian stretched tight and ready to break. It was a little scary.

  I stood up suddenly, my stool scraping across the floor at the same moment my dad entered from the backyard.

  “Where's Rhonda?” he asked, and I seriously had to close my eyes to keep from screaming.

  “Not feeling well,” Flor said, and I had to wonder if that was actually a lie at all. “Come on, Abs.”

  “Where are you two off to?” my dad rumbled, giving me one of his piercing looks. Maybe it was just me, but it felt even more invasive than usual. I pretended not to notice and let Flor grab my hand. He dragged me through the living room, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. Why, exactly, he thought this was the best place to do this, I'm not sure.

  I swallowed hard, the sound audible in the sudden quiet between us.

  I watched him fish something out of his pocket and toss it onto my bed. It looked like a jewelry box and for one terrifying moment, I imagined that it held a wedding ring, that Flor really had been intending to ask Rhonda to marry him. But then he opened it, and I saw that it was just a bracelet. A pretty bracelet, but still just a bracelet.

  “It's for my mom,” he grumbled with a sigh. “If anyone asks, I brought you up here to look at it.”

  “Um, okay?” I said, the words more of a question than a statement. “But why did you really bring me up here?”

  Flor sat down heavy on my bed, putting his face in his hands. I wanted to sit down next to him, curl my arm around his shoulders, but I didn't. I thought about saying I was sorry, but that wasn't really true either. I wish Rhonda hadn't had to find out that way, but she'd deserved to know. If anything, Flor was the jerk for not telling her right way, and I was … I stopped short of bringing up Max.

  “Now who's playing the game?” Flor snapped back at me, standing up suddenly and forcing me into the dresser with the heat of his anger. “Rhonda heard you, Abigail. And then she went home and told fucking Max.” Flor turned away and ran his fingers through his hair. As if on cue, I heard Addi's voice from downstairs.

  “Max is here!” she called and I felt the blood drain from my face. Flor and I exchanged a look before he snatched up the bracelet and we both flew down the stairs like our lives depended on it. Maybe they did?

  “Can you keep my parents in the kitchen?” I whispered frantically to my best friend, grabbing the door and moving outside before Flor could stop me. Max was standing in the driveway, a very unpleasant look on his face. Shit.

  “Get your fucking ass down here, Florian,” he snapped and I felt a horrible surge of fear when I realized that Rhonda was in the car, eyes red and puffy, focused right on me. The worst part of it all was that I deserved it. “You sick fuck,” he said as Flor approached and paused, putting a cigarette between his lips like he just didn't care. Thing was, he did. I could tell from the tightness in his back muscles, the stiffness of his shoulders. He was playing it cool, but in all reality, he was strung tight, way, way, way too tight. “You fucked your own sister,” Max said and I cringed, putting my hands over my ears like that would block out the truth.

  Flor lit up his cig, but he wasn't looking at Max. He was looking at me, right straight at me.

  “Don't blow a gasket, dude. Relax, my parents are inside.”

  “Yeah,” Max said, and I heard the strange echo of a little boy in his voice, the same one who'd grown up alongside Flor and me. He was disappointed in us and it hurt. Where was that hole in the ground when I needed it? Maybe I could just crawl inside and disappear?

  I glanced over my shoulder, but no faces appeared at the window – not yet. My stepmom was nosy and my dad was suspicious. Combine those two traits and you basically have professional eavesdroppers; it was only a matter of time. I don't want it to be like this, I thought as I took a step towards Max. He was careful not to look at me and I found my own attention straying to Rhonda. She was staring through the window at Flor with red, watery eyes and all I could think was this is my fault. I'd pushed and pushed and pushed, even though Flor had pushed back. He'd tried to let this go and I'd kept on until this was where we'd all ended up.

  “Look, maybe you shouldn't come home tonight?” Max asked, leaning back against the car and running his hand down his face. “In fact, maybe you shouldn't come home at all.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Flor asked, grabbing his cigarette between two fingers and taking a step forward. “You trying to kick me out of my own place?”

  “All this time, all these years, how did I miss it?” Max asked, glancing back over at us, his eyes swinging back and forth like he was trying to discern some obvious connection between us, like a red string of fate wrapped around each of our pinky fingers. Legend has it that those who are destined to become lovers are connected by this crimson thread and although it can stretch or tangle or twist, it will never, ever break. I decided that if this was indeed the case with Flor and me, we were certainly testing the limits of our connection.

  “Let's talk this out later, okay?” Flor said, taking another step forward. I saw him glance at Rhonda and away again, like it pained him to look at her. Did he love her? I stuffed my hands inside the front pocket of my hoodie and took a breath.

  “Max,” I began, and both he and Flor startled like I wasn't even there.

  “No, you shut the hell up,” Max said, his voice breaking like he didn't know what he should feel for me. Honestly, that was a surprise. And here I'd been operating under the idea that he was never really all that interested in me, that he, like Flor, thought of me as annoying add on, just another little sister. But his words …

  “Don't you fucking talk to her like that,” Flor growled, throwing his cigarette down on the driveway. Max raised an eyebrow.

  “What? Are you gonna fight for her honor, Flor?” he said, pushing away from the car and turning to face his friend. The last thing I wanted to add to my recent résumé of regrets was the breakup of a longterm friendship like theirs.

  “Max, I'm sorry,” I blurted, moving between them and trying to get Max to actually look at me. “We didn't mean for it to happen like that. It just … things between Flor and I are confusing. Please, I don't want my parents to find out this way.”

  “You plan on telling them?” Max said, looking at me like I was insane. “When they're having a baby? Are you insane? River's going to kill you.” I rather thought it was the other way around – my dad killing Flor. But then again, River was awfully protective of her only son. “I wanted this to be a mistake. I thought Rhonda was crazy, but … ” Max shook his head at me. “You two are fucking insane. If you want to fuck your brother, be my guest. You guys deserve each other.”

  “Max, don't,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm. He threw my hand off like it was poisoned and the tension in the air tripled. Flor's fist came out of nowhere, cracking Max
in the face. He stumbled back, but he didn't go down and before I knew it, the two of them were embroiled in a raging fistfight. Max grabbed Flor by the shirt and shoved him against the car as Rhonda climbed out the other side and moved around to try and help me pull them apart.

  “What's going on out here?” Addi's voice was high and panicked as she came down the cement steps and tried to grab Max by the arm. The boys struggled to get at each other anyway and somehow in the fray, Max's elbow flung back and smashed me right in the nose.

  I stumbled, blood pouring down my face as Florian paused long enough to catch sight of me. His eyes widened and then all bets were off. I suppose somewhere deep down, I almost liked the fact that he was fighting for me, but it was all wrong. Everything was just off. When I was fifteen, when Flor had me pressed against the wall, his lips on mine, his hands on my body, how did I ever think this would turn out? I should've seen this coming from a mile away.

  I clutched my nose and tried to staunch the bleeding while my two childhood friends, the only two guys I'd ever had sex with, ended up on the pavement. Flor was on top this time, dropping a hard punch to Max's face that made my entire body go cold. Whatever he was fighting about, it was more than just Max pushing my hand off his arm. Flor was angry and confused and frustrated, and he was taking it out on his friend.

  “What the hell?” Addi asked, gesturing at the boys. Nobody was trying to stop them now. All I could hope was that they'd stop before my parents made it out here. “Abigail?” I pulled my hands away from my face, wet with my blood and gave her a look. That was all it took. “Max knows.” She pursed her lips and glanced over at Rhonda. Rhonda's blue eyes slid over to mine and held there. I could see the frustration and the confusion I was feeling mirrored in her gaze.

  “You know you can never have him?” Rhonda asked me, voice soft. “Not without giving up everything else.” I heard the sound of the front door opening and then my dad was suddenly just there, ripping Flor and Max apart while my stepmother screamed at them. When she caught sight of me, her mouth dropped open and my heart twisted into an impossible knot.