Harlequin E New Adult Romance Box Set Volume 1: Burning MoonGirls' Guide to Getting It TogetherRookie in Love

by Jo Watson

  Jackson descends first and waits for me at the bottom. I am far more graceful this time climbing down the trellis, but I slip when my bare feet meet the wet grass, causing my ankle to twist. I don’t fall down, but the pain in my ankle makes standing on it impossible.

  “Rookie mistake,” he whispers in my ear, and then swoops me up into his arms. “I hope you don’t live far,” he says in a low voice, both of us now aware of the late hour and open windows.

  “I live here, in this building,” I laugh. “Did I miss the part where you rode up on a white horse? Aren’t you supposed to be wearing some sort of shining armor?” Once the giggles start I can’t get them to stop.

  “Looks like the damsel I’ve rescued is not only in distress but is also tipsy.” A smile flashes across his face as he begins walking to the front entrance. When we enter the building, I point in the direction of my front door and fish the key from my purse. He holds me while I open the door and I rest my head in the crook of his neck, preparing myself for the moment where he puts me down and rides off.

  “Which way is your room?” he asks. I point down the hall to our left and he kicks the door closed behind us. I lift my head and look into his eyes as he enters my room and that tension is instantly between us again. I have never had a boy in my room before, as ridiculous as that sounds. My heart speeds up with anticipation as Jackson moves to set me down on the bed.

  My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as he bends to place me on top of the covers. I don’t let go right away and our eyes meet. “Let me help get you under the covers, just lift your hips a bit so I can pull down the sheets.” I do as he asks, still holding on to him loosely, and when he has released the sheets from under me he helps to ease me back against the pillows. We are still for a minute and I drop my gaze to his lips, wanting them to meet mine more than anything I have ever wanted.

  The energy between us is magnetic and our bodies are pulled together until my face is near his and our lips meet ever so lightly. The kiss is sweet at first, a slow exploration of tastes and tugs, until I open my mouth and his tongue sweeps into me, breaking my restraint, sending the kiss into a frenzy of desire. Jackson’s hands slide over my body, and his heat permeates my dress and scorches my skin. I arch into his hands, but he pulls away, shutting his eyes tightly.

  “If we don’t stop, beautiful birthday girl, the regret you feel in the morning will be even more painful than that ankle is going to be.” We stare into each other’s eyes and try to calm our breathing. When his appears in control again he kisses my forehead, and I shut my eyes against the tenderness of it. I breathe him in one last time and then take my arms from around his neck.

  Jackson pulls the covers up around me and whispers in my ear, “Happy birthday. It has been an honor to tuck you in, little Rookie. Please don’t regret a minute of this in the morning, because it has been one of the best nights of my life.” He kisses me on my cheek before turning and walking out of my room.

  Chapter Two

  The throbbing pain registers before I can even open my eyes. At first I think it is my whole body protesting and pounding in a relentless throb from my head to my feet, but I peel my eyes open and focus on exactly where it is radiating from. My head and my right ankle grab my attention, and I start to recall last night in a string of unorganized memories.

  This is my first hangover, and I quickly vow that it will be my last. While I have never experienced a pounding in my head as bad as this, I am pretty sure I am not supposed to be hearing it. Perhaps I am hallucinating, but I can hear a pounding that is originating outside of my skull. I throw the covers back, sit up and perch on the side of my bed, waiting for the rolling to stop.

  My ankle looks horrible: swollen and slightly bruised. I hobble to my bedroom door and try to get to the knocking at the end of the hall. In a cadence of ouches and thumps from my feeble attempts at bracing myself up against the wall, I slowly manage to pull open the front door. Right away I want to slam it shut.

  “Hello—you must be Maddy?” The young man at my door is carrying a small black bag. He looks from my eyes down to my ankle and smiles. I can’t even imagine what a wreck I must look like. I still have on my dress from last night, my hair is a matted mess, and I am pretty sure I must have makeup smeared everywhere.

  “Yes, I am Madeline. Who are you?” I stumble and he puts a hand on my arm to keep me from falling. When I make an ass of myself, I go all out.

  “I’m Rob, a trainer for the team, and someone out there just called in a favor for you. Heard you might need a little help with that ankle today.” He tips his chin in the direction of the living room and looks past my shoulder as if to ask if I am going to invite him in.

  “I am not on any team and no one owes me any favors. Thanks for going to the trouble of coming over, but I’m afraid there has been a mistake.” I pull my arm away from Rob’s grip and he cocks his head to the side while letting out a small chuckle.

  “Now I know there is no mistake. He told me you were stubborn. The favor that was owed is mine, Maddy, you just happen to be the lucky recipient of my services. I have been waiting for three years to make things even between Jackson and me—this is my opportunity. Now, if I could please just come in and check out that ankle I will happily be on my way. Practice starts in about ten minutes, so no worries about me sticking around long enough to kill you. I just wouldn’t have the time.”

  Jackson sent a trainer to my house. My hopes that he might have left here and got himself so drunk he would forget about carrying a sloppy, giggling invalid back to her apartment are dashed. “By all means, Rob, please come in. I can’t get in the way of a man and his debts,” I say, making a grand gesture with my arm to invite him inside. Rob takes my arm and wraps it around his shoulder to help me walk over to the couch.

  After looking at my ankle he concludes that it is probably not broken but just tender from having twisted it. Rob wraps it and it immediately feels better, although it is nowhere near a miracle healing and I am dying to take some ibuprofen. With his favor paid in full, he packs up his bag and makes his way to the front door.

  “You know why it has taken me three years to pay this debt off, Maddy?” he asks as he steps out onto my doorstep.

  “It’s Madeline,” I correct. “It must be because you are a very busy man.” Rob laughs and shakes his head no.

  “Jackson has never had anyone he has cared enough about to call in his favor. I have to admit that while I was excited to be able to call us even, my curiosity about you was more intense than any feeling of relief. Have a good day, Madeline.”

  “Wait, Rob, could you please thank Jackson for me? I’m not sure when I’ll see him again or I would thank him myself.”

  “If I had to put money on it, I would say that you’ll be seeing him again real soon.” With a wink and a bounce in his step, Rob leaves my apartment. I stand there for a minute wondering where I would put my money. Last night was intense, but today is a new day. There will be no more rescuing this damsel in distress; the knights from fairy tales don’t go after girls who lock themselves up and throw away the key.

  I decide that a shower is out of the question, thanks to my ankle wrap, and run myself a hot bath. I strip out of my dress from last night and smile as I uncover the lacy panties that must have allowed Jackson to get an eyeful. The thought of Jackson causes heat to rush over me, and I slowly lower the panties to the floor, relishing the way the silky lace traces the path Jackson’s hands took last night.

  I take a moment to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My blue eyes are smeared with yesterday’s makeup and my nearly-black hair is tangled and falling loosely across my shoulders and down my back. I run my fingers through it and then twist it up and tie it in a knot at my neck. I turn sideways, but don’t see any more evidence of my clumsy night on my tan skin.

  I slide into the hot water and allow my thoughts to float back to last night and the heat from Jackson’s body against mine. I feel myself becoming aroused with the th
ought of his warm, rough skin trailing up my thigh and beneath my skirt. My body aches as I remember the low, husky voice that whispered in my ear, causing goose bumps to pebble my skin. He worried that I would regret it this morning, and in part he was correct. My regret is that I have now had a taste of what wanting—no, needing—a man can be like, and I fear I will never get to experience that again.

  After a long bath I swallow some ibuprofen and throw on a pair of my favorite Hudson jeans and a snug vintage T-shirt. I am meeting Abby at the coffee shop on campus to catch up on what happened with her and her boyfriend after they left the bar. Abby has been dating Kyle for three years now, and while they seem joined at the hip, they both plan to move back home when they graduate. That wouldn’t be a problem if she weren’t from California and he from Florida. These next few months have heartbreak written all over them.

  The small coffee shop is crowded with students spending Sunday studying for finals while keeping a steady supply of caffeine within reach. I see Abby in the corner and I’m grateful she has managed to snag us a booth. I wave to let her know I see her as I make my way to the line that now stretches to the door. I wince at the thought of food and ignore the pastries, deciding that coffee will have to do until my stomach recovers from being bathed in cheap champagne.

  More and more students enter the shop and the line condenses to allow them access. It is heating up quickly in here and I roll my hair into a tight twist and hold it off of my neck. I blow out a breath aimed at my forehead in the hopes of lowering my temperature a tad.

  “How’s that ankle, Rookie?” My eyes close as the vibration of his voice permeates every one of my cells. My traitorous body tips my head to the side as if to offer my neck up to the source of that low, commanding voice. A quick movement in the line as a student enters the coffee shop causes our bodies to collide like dominoes as the line absorbs the new patron.

  “I’ve got you,” Jackson whispers as he pulls back on my hips to dislodge me from the person in front of me.

  “My hero,” I say, batting my eyelashes in his direction, and we both laugh as our familiar story unfolds again. “My ankle is well taken care of, Jackson. Thanks for calling in that favor for me. How was practice?” My heart is pounding in my chest, and I hope that he takes the flush on my cheeks as a simple matter of the temperature in this shop, rather than my out-of-control reaction to him.

  “Not a problem. I would, however, like to point out that in the world of favors you are now in debt to me.” He grins at me and then puts his hands on my shoulders to steer me forward as our line moves up infinitesimally. “I’m sure some sort of arrangement can be worked out.”

  “Surely,” I reply sarcastically, even though the thought of working anything out with him causes fire to race through me.

  “Practice was good. We watched some films of the team we’re playing this weekend. We have a great team this year. Have you ever been to a game?”

  “No, I don’t really have much free time. Isn’t the season almost over?” We move up again, slowly inching to the front of the line.

  “We have a few more games before the end of the season. This week we are going to kill our opponents but we’ll play it safe so that we don’t have any injured players when we take on State at the end of the season. Please tell me you have at least attended a pep rally on the practice field.” More movement from the people in line behind us causes Jackson to press up against me and I can feel his hard muscles connecting with my back. I should shy away from this contact but instead I lean into it, allowing the front of his body to mold with mine. My arms are growing tired from holding my hair off of my neck so I let it fall across my shoulders and I shake my arms out.

  “Never been to one. My social calendar is a bitch. I imagine I am missing out on bouncing cheerleaders and shouting football players?” I’m teasing him and I turn my head to meet his gaze with a small smile. He quickly looks away when I catch him staring at me. We both shoot our gazes to the front of the shop and pretend to read the menu. I look over to see if Abby is paying attention, but she is staring at her phone.

  “Last night was amazing, Rookie. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left,” he whispers in my ear, just as the overwhelmed girl working at the counter calls me up to order. I freeze for a minute, dazed by his confession and unable to gather my thoughts. Words fall from my mouth and I hope I am speaking coherently, because I feel like I am swimming in warmth and about to pass out from the hammering in my chest.

  I move over to the corner to wait for my order and pretend to be interested in the nutritional content of the food items. I reach out to take my coffee but Jackson scoops it up first. “I can see you’re still nursing that ankle, Rookie, I’ll carry it over to your table so you don’t spill it all over yourself.” I nod my head in thanks and remain speechless as he places his hand on my lower back on the way to the booth where Abby is sitting. Her jaw nearly hits the floor when she sees Jackson. She manages to snap out of it and shut her mouth right before I take my seat in the booth next to her.

  “Abby, this is Jackson. Jackson, this is my roommate, Abby.” Jackson sets down my coffee and shakes her hand. She stares at him over her bagel. I give her a small kick under the table and she turns to me, then seems to shake it off and looks back to Jackson with a smile.

  “Nice to meet you, Jackson. You’re having a great season this year.” Of course Abby knows him; I am probably the only person on campus who hasn’t seen a game.

  “Thank you, Abby. Take good care of my Rookie here.” The barista calls his name over the crowd. “Sounds like my order is ready. It was great meeting you. Maddy, it’s always a pleasure.” Jackson turns and makes a grand exit, only it isn’t like in the fairy tales or the movies, because as he leaves he grabs the two cups of coffee awaiting him on the counter. Not one cup for him to drink alone—two cups: one for Prince Charming and the other for his Cinderella. For the briefest of moments before Abby returns my earlier kick under the table, I want to be his Cinderella.

  “Spill it. Don’t try to tell me that was your first meeting.” Abby is staring into my eyes as she turns her whole body to face mine. “Damn, Madeline, three years of watching you sit by as life flew past and all along you’ve had a little bit of bad girl in there. Let her out—I want to meet her.”

  “It’s nothing. I ran into him last night on my way home. He climbed my trellis and we watched the stars.”

  “Please tell me that is a euphemism.” We break down into fits of giggles, attracting looks from the other customers.

  “No! God, Abby, I have a boyfriend.” I cover my face with both hands and try to figure out who needs to be reminded of that fact: her or me.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Greg. That boy should have climbed your trellis months ago. Whatever you’re thinking, sweetheart, please do it. Don’t let your sense of duty to your family stop you from having a little fun.”

  “Enough about me; how did last night go? Did you guys get any closer to a compromise?” My heart hurts for her and Kyle. I feel guilty that a little part of me wishes Greg and I came from different states, that I didn’t have to be committed to him because everyone would understand we both had other commitments to our families that would have to come over our own relationship. We don’t; we literally live five miles from each other. Abby starts to catch me up on their never-ending debate and I can’t keep my gaze from drifting toward the front window of the shop.

  Jackson is outside, talking to another man that looks about his age. Abby’s voice fades as I watch his every movement: the way his bicep flexes as he holds up the coffee; the beautiful way he smiles as he talks and the way his eyes move in my direction. I’m totally caught. Jackson’s eyes meet mine and he grins. I quickly bring my focus back to Abby, but she has apparently stopped talking to watch me watch Jackson.

  “Sorry,” I offer, and take a sip of my coffee.

  “Madeline, why did he call you ‘Rookie?’” I follow her line of vision back to Jackson.

>   “I was using my skills to launch my belongings onto the roof.” We are both staring at him now but he is looking only at me.

  “Shit. I knew it: you were wasted, weren’t you? I told Kyle we needed to make sure you got home okay.”

  “I wasn’t that drunk, Abby, at least not on alcohol. I had freedom. I was out from the watchful eyes of my brothers and I wanted to have a little fun. You guys aren’t my babysitters and while I appreciate you worrying about me, trust me when I say that my family has that covered.” Jackson climbs into his truck and leaves the parking lot. I want to run outside and scream for him to stop, to experience what it feels like to be free and sharing the same air as him.

  “Your father can’t keep you locked up forever. Promise me you’ll follow your heart, Madeline.”

  “Right now my heart is showing no loyalty to the king, my friend, and that could be very dangerous.” The image of my father as an absolute ruler is not a far stretch. His word is law in both his multi-million dollar hotel business and in his family, and while he is devoted to both, he has little tolerance for dissent. Not for the first time, I wonder what he was like when my mother was still alive. Abby and I finish our coffees and make our way back to the apartment. We both have tests tomorrow and I need to get a nap in before I get lost in my dry textbook.

  Chapter Three

  It has been four days since I’ve seen Jackson, not that I’m counting. Okay, I’m counting. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. I feel like a junkie looking for my next fix. I know I can’t have him since we are both in relationships with other people, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to be near him. I am trying so hard to focus on the task at hand, which is getting ready to leave my apartment on time, but I can’t seem to keep my thoughts straight as I rush around my room.