TACKLE (Boston Terriers Book 4)

by Jacob Chance

  TACKLE

  Boston Terriers #4

  Jacob Chance

  Copyright © 2018 Jacob Chance

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Cover design by PopKitty Designs

  Edited by Shauna Stevenson

  Proofreading by Hawkeyes Proofing

  This book contains mature content.

  “Do your job.”

  Bill Bellichick

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty-One

  22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  23. Chapter Twenty-Three

  24. Chapter Twenty-Four

  25. Chapter Twenty-Five

  26. Chapter Twenty-Six

  27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

  28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

  29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

  30. Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  JOCK

  PROLOGUE

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Grace

  “Come on, guys.” Owen’s frustration is evident as a deep scowl sinks between his dark brows. He’s not pleased our team scored the first touchdown. It doesn’t matter that this is a friendly girls against the guys game of beach football. He’s out for blood.

  The guys’ team huddles together, voices muffled to keep us from hearing their strategy. We circle up in our own group to plan our defense.

  When no one says anything I start in, “We need to shut them down on this drive. Make them go three and out. Rip their hearts from their chests. Show them we’re not pushovers.” Owen’s not the only one who’s taking this game seriously.

  Amelia cracks each knuckle on her right hand before repeating the process on the left. The loud pops have me grimacing. She flicks a glance over at the guys and leans forward to whisper, “I’m confident Owen’s going to throw the ball. They want to come out hard and show us who our daddies are.” Snorts and laughter ring out from our bunch. “If he throws, it’ll be to Trevor. Those two play together on the Terriers. He’s most comfortable with him.” Amelia aims her brown gaze my way. “You can shut that down, right?”

  I smile confidently. “Hell, yes. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

  Because we’re operating with no kickers they line up on our makeshift field where the twenty yard line would fall. Shifting into place across from them, we wait for Owen’s count and watch for the snap. My heart races with adrenaline as the seconds tick by.

  Once the ball’s in motion it’s similar to a switch being flipped and we move at an accelerated pace. Everything happens faster than one can imagine and we need to stay focused for the duration of the play.

  Trevor skirts past me, making a break down the sideline. I bolt after him, but this fucker is fast. The dry sand kicks up as he runs, pelting me. Forcing myself to ignore my stinging, grit filled eyes, I squint and push on. I can’t let this entitled asshole get the best of me.

  Digging deep in the pit of my stomach, I find the last reserves of energy. Bursting forward, my feet churning up more sand behind me, I notice Trevor’s sweat glistening back getting closer with each stride. His arms outstretched, the ball sails right into his hands like a missile locked on its target. Fuck.

  Gritting my teeth, I power on and launch myself forward, tackling him. I don’t think Trevor expected me to catch up, and as a result I’m able to knock him off his feet.

  Hurtling toward the ground, he fumbles the ball to the side, twisting his upper body as he bobbles the ball from one large hand to the other. The pigskin eludes his grasp, falling to the sand.

  I never spared a thought about how painful my landing would be until now, as I’m about to slam down face first. Trevor’s muscular arms catch me around the waist just before we crash to the ground. A cloud of sand erupts all around us like a desert storm as his back takes the brunt of our impact. He doesn’t make a sound as he absorbs all my weight, cushioning and protecting me from injury.

  Silence and a haze of dust enshroud us in our own bubble. “Are you okay?” he questions in a deep rasp, his arms holding me tight. His lips press against the shell of my ear, firing off sparks from my head to my sandy, bare toes. Dragging in a deep breath, I notice the scent of his golden, sunbaked skin combined with sunscreen and a hint of whatever masculine soap he uses. Altogether, the smell is intoxicating. And so is the hard body beneath me. His heart thuds against my chest and I wonder if he knows mine’s racing just as fast. Can he feel the press of my taut nipples through my bikini top?

  Nuzzling my nose against his neck, I savor the scent of him once more. He groans, adjusting his position, allowing me to feel his steely length pressing against my slit. Oh fuck me. This isn’t good. This is the same guy who drives me nutty on an almost daily basis. The one who I can’t stand because he’s lived a life of privilege. He’s never known what it’s like struggling to keep food on the table, and he never will.

  Immediately I scramble to my feet and scuttle backward away from Trevor. He opens his mouth to say something and I whirl around to face our friends. My cheeks are on fire from a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Can everyone tell?

  I jog over to the cooler and pop the lid open with a sharp snap. Bending down, hands on my knees, I use the top as a shield from prying eyes while I suck air in raggedly. What’s wrong with me? Why is Trevor Lincoln affecting me so much? Sure, he’s attractive, but I’ve never wondered what it would be like to kiss his masculine lips. Until now.

  Grabbing a handful of ice, I rub it over my cheeks and neck before dropping the melted bits to the ground. Plucking a bottle of water from the assortment of drinks, I straighten up and run the cool plastic over my forehead. Cracking the cap, I guzzle down the entire contents without pause. If only this was alcohol.

  “Grace, that was awesome.” Amelia is giddy as she approaches.

  “Hell of a play, Grace,” Zeke calls out. I smile shyly, pressing my lips together.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  “Are you okay?” Amelia leans in. No. I’m not. My world just got rocked by Trevor and not in a good way.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” I shrug playing off my strange behavio
r.

  “You didn’t hit your head, did you?” She looks concerned.

  “No. I got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.” I can’t meet her gaze as I utter the lie. “Are we going to play some more or what?” I put an end to the conversation.

  “Sure. Let’s show these boys what we’re made of.”

  Bending over, I flip the lid on the cooler closed and glance in Trevor’s direction. Our eyes lock in a paralyzing stare down I can’t look away from. He smirks as if to say you’ll be mine soon. Narrowing my eyes, I glare back sending my own message… not in this lifetime.

  Chapter One

  Trevor

  Six weeks later

  I wonder if it can possibly be as soft as it looks. Sitting in American History class, I contemplate the texture of Grace’s long, red hair. The thick mass hangs in a shiny curtain over the wooden back of her chair. So many fiery shades are contained in those strands; even her hair is complicated. She’s seated diagonally in front of me, not that she even knows or cares that I’m here. My eyes trace over her slowly, moving from her hair down to the pale strip of exposed skin where her shirt ends and her jean cutoffs begin. The metal portion connecting the top and bottom of the chair frames her lower back like a picture. And oh what a tempting picture it is. Two inches of her skin is enough to get my blood pumping. I’m pathetic.

  Clancy kicks the side of my sneakered foot with his. My head turns in his direction catching his quirked brow.

  “What?” I mouth the word. He tips his chin in Grace’s direction and smirks knowingly. Scowling, I shrug my shoulders and return my attention to the professor where it should have been all along. I don’t have time to waste pursuing a girl who can’t stand me. Especially one who dislikes me for no good reason.

  The professor dismisses us and I jump to my feet. Slinging one of the backpack straps over my shoulder, I make my way to the door, merging with the rest of the departing students. As fate would have it, I find myself behind Grace, close enough to catch the familiar scent of her perfume. She smells like cinnamon and vanilla, good enough to eat. I’m not even going to let my mind think about that. Next thing I’ll be popping a boner in the hallway. Being this close to her is enough of an exercise in restraint.

  “Ahh,” Grace shrieks falling back into me. My arms reflexively close around her, catching her lean frame.

  “Are you okay?” My lips press to the delicate lobe of her ear. Her scent assails me, making my head spin. She pulls away, pivoting around to face me. Her eyes open wide when she realizes I’m the one who caught her before they flick to the classroom we just left and then back in my direction where they remain.

  “Thanks for catching me.”

  “No problem. Glad to help out.”

  She shuffles to the side of the hallway and I follow, leaning a shoulder on the wall as we face one another. “Do we have history together?”

  Raking my teeth over my lower lip, I nod. “Yes, we do.”

  “Oh.” Her reply is so soft I barely hear it.

  “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around much.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy.” Her answer is vague, but I don’t get the impression she’s giving me the brush off. It seems as though she doesn’t want to go into detail and I’m not going to press for more. This is the first time I’ve spoken to her since she stayed at my parents’ house in the Hamptons six weeks ago.

  “Are you all settled in now?” Grace recently transferred to Boston University for her junior year on a full football scholarship.

  She presses her pink lips together and tips her head to the side. “Pretty much. Between football, school, and…” she trails off as if she was planning to say something else and changed her mind. “I’m just really crunched for time.” She shrugs.

  “The Terriers are killing it. You guys are undefeated,” I mention the football team she’s a running back for.

  She smiles and my chest squeezes pleasantly. “We’re doing better than any of us thought.”

  “I don’t know about that. Zeke’s been talking you guys up to me from day one.” My roommate, Zeke, is the offensive coordinator for the women’s team.

  “That’s nice to know. I’m glad he has good things to say. Sometimes it feels like he thinks we suck,” she laughs.

  My lips stretch wide in a large smile. Her tinkling giggle is adorable and the opposite of what I imagined it would sound like with her take no prisoners kind of personality.

  “I bet he can be a dick, but I guess it’s paying off since you’re winning games.”

  “Definitely. He can be moody all he wants, but if we’re winning, then no complaints.”

  “So you’re saying he’s moody?” She raises her eyebrows in an ‘oh shit I shouldn’t have said that’ expression. “I'm gonna tell him you said that.” Her eyebrows rise another half inch and her bright blue eyes look enormous for her delicate features.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I am.”

  “Are you joking? I can’t tell with you.”

  “Nope. I’m dead serious.”

  She scowls. ”Why would you tell him something that’s going to piss him off and cause discord between us?”

  “Why would you say something you’re not comfortable with him knowing?”

  “I didn’t realize you were going to tattle on me like a freaking pre-schooler.”

  “There is a way out of this for you.”

  She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “There is, huh? Why am I not surprised?”

  “Do you want an out or not?”

  She sighs, “Yes.”

  “Go to the frat party on Friday night.”

  “I’m not going with you.”

  The left side of my lips hook upward in a smirk, “I’m not asking you to.”

  “Oh. Right.” She flushes pink and shifts her weight awkwardly.

  “What’s it gonna be?”

  “What time?” she sighs resignedly.

  “See you at nine.” I chuck her on the chin. Leaning forward, I hover over her. “Don’t think of skipping out on me, Red.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Grace’s tone is deceivingly innocent as her sky blue irises shoot sparks at me.

  Winking, I step around her heading down the hall with a goofy grin on my face. I’m not sure what it is about verbally sparring with Grace that makes me feel like I could take on the world. She fires me up in the best of ways and gets my blood pumping. And not just to my dick.

  Hot chicks are as common as a dollar bill. But finding one with intelligence, who’s not afraid to say what she feels, that’s like finding a rare object you’ve been searching for your whole life. I’m already looking forward to Friday night and what our potential interactions might bring.

  Coach blows his whistle putting an end to the play. “That was better, but it’s still not good enough. Flynn, you need to stick with your assignment longer, and Trevor, I want to see more hustle from you getting to the end zone.”

  “Yes, sir,” Flynn and I answer simultaneously.

  The offense and defense line up and wait for Owen to receive the snap. I run a simple slant and break free, heading toward the end zone. Owen fires a perfect spiral in my direction and it drops right into my hands as I notch up my pace the final five yards taking me into the end zone untouched. I do a Gronk spike with the ball and freeze in place as I look at my teammates. Posing, I flex my arms and shout, “Yeah, baby.”

  Coach blows his whistle putting a stop to my antics. “Lincoln, how about ending the gun show and getting back to work.”

  “Sure, but you agree that these babies are worthy of a show right, Coach?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Lincoln. Get your ass in line with your teammates and run the play one more time.”

  Owen calls out the count and the ball gets snapped to him. We run the exact same play once more with similar results. This time when I spike the ball, I kiss each of my biceps. Flynn laughs as I run back over.

 
“Are we still going to C’s tonight?”

  “I’m in. What about you, Owen?”

  “What about me?”

  “C’s tonight?”

  “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

  “I’m coming too,” Nolan, our first string running back, interjects.

  Owen swipes his arm over his sweat dotted forehead. “Sounds good. Let’s finish up so we can have an ice cold beer ASAP.”

  “Guys, I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” I call out when I notice Zeke sitting at the bar. I slide onto the open stool next to him. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Owen texted and told me to meet you guys.”

  “It’s good to see you out and about and not moping at home.”

  “I don’t mope.”

  “Dude, since you and Amelia decided to keep your distance until the end of her football season you’ve been mopey like that donkey dude on Winnie the Pooh.”

  “Eeyore?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re a little touched?”

  “No, I’ve never heard that expression before. What’s it supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’ve got some loose screws in that head of yours.”

  I laugh, “Who doesn’t?”

  “I won’t disagree with you on that, but you my friend might have more than the average person.”