Big Bad Baller: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Tia Siren

  “You slept with that man-whore Chris the same night you ran off,” he said, “don’t say you didn’t. Do you know how that makes me feel? Watching the person, I love sleep with some guy that isn’t even interested in her at all?”

  I laughed; it was almost unbearable to listen to.

  “You really are something else,” I said, “you accuse me of sleeping around after you I catch you in the act. I’m amazed I stayed with you as long as I did. I even have a feeling that she wasn’t the first person you were sleeping with behind my back.”

  He leaned over the table and stole a kiss. I went to push him away, but he pulled me in tightly. It took a second before I managed to pry his face off mine, and I knew then, and there this would be the last time I would see him.

  I shot from my seat, narrowly avoiding his searching arms trying to get a hold of me again.

  “Goodbye, Brad,” I said.

  I started walking towards the exit but turned just before I did.

  “I don’t regret it when I say that Chris is and always will be a better man than you because at least he knows what he is. He doesn’t slink around pretending to be something he isn’t.

  “Don’t call me, because I won’t call you.”

  I walked out of the restaurant, somehow feeling a sense of finality. It was the closure that I was lacking from our previous encounter. I wanted to go back in there and swear at him for another hour. I wanted to scream until my lungs belted fire. I wanted to do so many things that I knew would be bad for me. So, instead, I went to the game.

  7.

  Tiffany and I sat behind the team, just a few rows back. I hadn’t really gone to any sporting events this season. The games rarely held my interest for long.

  Still, I wanted to cheer Chris on; he needed more cheerleaders in his corner. I knew what he was trying to achieve; he was just like me. He wanted to follow his dreams and become a pro player. I just wanted to find a dream to follow.

  He turned back a few times during the game and made eye contact. His expression remained mostly jovial with his fellow players.

  “He’s acting different,” Tiffany said.

  “How so,” I asked.

  “I haven’t seen him so talkative with his teammates. He’s usually a guy that keeps his head in the game until it’s over.”

  She would know; she was probably one of his biggest fans.

  “I wonder what’s gotten into him,” she asked.

  Our team, led by Chris, crushed the other team. I cheered until I could barely speak.

  The field started clearing out, Chris didn’t head to the lockers with the team. He waited on the bench, deep in thought.

  I waited in the stands; Tiffany decided to head home for the night, and I told her I’d manage a way home myself, later. All that remained were a few staff members cleaning, me, and Chris.

  I walked down to the field to join him, but he was pulled aside by the coach before I could catch up. I managed to just barely overhear their conversation.

  “They were impressed tonight,” he said.

  “Yeah? I thought I’d rely more on my team than try to win it by myself,” Chris replied.

  “They’re still a little slow to decide, but they said that it looks promising. I’ll keep my ear to the ground for you,” the coach said.

  “Thanks,” Chris said.

  “Get out there and party, tonight. You earned this one,” the coach slapped him hard in the arm and walked off toward the locker room.

  Chris snatched his helmet from the bench then looked over at me. He almost looked a little disgusted, but I couldn’t tell.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Did you enjoy the game,” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “you looked really good, and it sounds like those scouts liked you a little better this week, too.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited.”

  I laughed and walked over to join him.

  I wrapped my arms around him, giving him another big hug.

  “Are you sure Brad won’t get jealous,” he asked.

  “Why would Brad be jealous,” I questioned.

  “I saw you guys at the restaurant earlier. I saw you guys making out.” Chris said.

  I wanted to laugh but stifled it as best I could.

  “Brad ambushed me with a kiss,” I said, “I wish I hadn’t even gone to meet up with him.”

  “I was hoping that I’d get to talk to you before the game,” Chris said.

  “What about,” I asked.

  “I have started to see things in a much different light, since the other day. I’ve tried to do everything alone, and I had it handled until I met you.” He said.

  “What are you trying to say,” I asked.

  “I’m saying that my outlook has changed. I don’t want to sleep around with a bunch of girls; that part of me has died over the last week. I’ve had a lot of offers, believe me.”

  I laughed at the idea of him turning down sex. He joined in and pulled me in for a hug.

  “I want someone who’ll be there when I’m sad, someone who will cozy up with me and watch TV on a boring night. I think I just want someone I can go home to. And, I was hoping it would be you.”

  I could feel tears begin to well up behind my eyes. He was baring his soul to me, and it was hard to deny him. I pressed my head to his chest and pulled him in tight.

  “Would you like to go out on a date with me? It’ll be my first,” he asked.

  I pulled myself away.

  “Sure, but, this time, I get to take you to my favorite spot,” I replied.

  He threw his arm around me and we walked off the field, together.

  We had each other, and that was more than either of us needed.

  *****

  THE END

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  About Me

  Other than my insatiable desire for chocolate, reading and writing steamy romances is my most guilty pleasure.

  I write about tough and sexy Bad Boys who, underneath that armor of muscles and tattoos (and sometimes suits), are more sensitive and wounded than they'd like to admit.

  I'm happily married to a really good guy, but, every now and again, I crave the forbidden excitement of falling for one of the bad boys in my stories.

  There really is a bad girl in me too!

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