“I don’t know. I need to break my addiction. I’ve never been hooked on anything before, but from what I’ve read, it must be like this.”
She takes one last bite, grabs her purse, and picks up her tray. “You’re the shrink but I think you might be making a big mistake. Listen, I got a class but don’t do anything stupid until we talk again. I’ll see you at practice.”
“Yup. Later.” I finish my lunch, check my phone for texts, and when there’s none, I curse.
While not expecting gushing words of romance, I hoped he would at least say hi. Shit. This is exactly why I need to stop seeing him.
As I hand in my lunch tray, I get unfamiliar pangs of jealousy. While others can hang out in the cafeteria, I have a ton of homework. I’ve had to keep my course load heavy in order to impress my next college and make sure I get in. I’d drop marching band but it’s the only extracurricular I have to offer.
What I wouldn’t give for one free hour.
Sighing, I check my phone and try not to feel guilty as I take my time meandering home in the warm sun.
When my thigh muscles ache, my heart gets heavy as last night comes to mind. I got a couple bruises from how hard I held him. My tongue flips over a small cut in my lip where his tooth nicked me. I’m sure I marked him, as well.
After making some iced tea, I flop down on my bed, and force thoughts of him away by studying bio-chemistry.
My two housemates have gone out so I sit alone feeling sorry for myself. Suddenly, my phone pings.
Unknown: Coach took my phone. Pick up when I call.
I do, this time determined to break up with him but he butts in before I can even say hi.
“Sit with me on the bus tomorrow?”
“I think…”
“I need to talk to someone, about you-know-what.”
“Gambling? You didn’t start again, did you?”
“I want you there. Just in case. I can’t talk but I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Last night was amazing. I love what you do to me.”
“I, ah… Listen. Maybe we should-“
Dial tone.
Shit shit shit. I was supposed to tell him last night was it. We need to break it off. I can’t tell him on the bus, no one is that heartless. Now, I’ll need to wait until Monday.
At least he called. And he used the L word. I bang my head back on the pillow. Not good, Star, not good.
Saturday, I grab my overnight bag, check the weather, and throw a couple outfits into it. Then, I download my homework. Despite sitting next to Jackson, I’ll need to spend some of our bus time for schoolwork. Unlike him, I can’t afford to fall behind.
Done packing, I read until I can’t keep my eyes open. What seems like seconds later, my alarm rings. In the dark, me and Kira make our way across campus to where the busses wait.
“Are you sitting with Ryan?”
She shrugs. “Don’t think so. Like I said, he pretty much dumped me.”
“Ouch.” I squeeze her arm. “Forget him.”
“Right? God save me from football players.”
“I wish I had known, hun. I would’ve told Jackson, no, too.”
“Go on, I’ll be fine.”
Giving her a quick hug, I enter the bus, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, my player stands and waves.
I blame air conditioning blowing on the back of my neck for the shiver that runs down my spine. It can’t be his heated look shooting laser beams of lust from his eyes. Liquid pools between my legs and I salivate, no more in control than Pavlov and one his dogs.
He takes my hand and kisses me on the mouth for all to see. Some of the guys wolf whistle, the nearest flag girl clucks her teeth, and a few cheerleaders roll their eyes.
As I settle into my seat, I smile at Kira sitting down next to Ryan. There’s so much heat in their shared gazes, I’m surprised fog doesn’t form on the windows.
My eyes shift to my man, smiling ear to ear.
“What?”
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Nothing. Just thinking about last night.”
“Did you get in trouble for being late?”
“Nah. Don’t worry. I was close. Rules are meant to be bent.” He puts his arms around me and whispers in my ear. “After the game, I’ll text you my room number, when and where to meet. I am going to fuck you on a double-sized bed.”
My tits go hard and my heart beats too fast. This has got to stop or I’ll be crushed by spring. “Listen, about tonight, I think we need to slow down a little.”
He blows in my ear and nuzzles my neck. “Nu-uh. Not happening.”
What harm could come from one more time? I’m already doomed to be miserable when he leaves school. Even if we text and Skype, a guy like him will soon get bored. Everyone knows NFL players have open marriages. They cheat and their wives turn their heads. I’d never be able to deal with sharing. If my man played around on me, I’d claw her eyes out and send him divorce papers.
I stare out at the never-ending South Carolina farm land. Why are my thoughts even going in that direction? Marriage to Jackson? He’d never ask and I’d never accept. By the time I finish my degree, I’ll be long forgotten.
I try to focus on my text of ancient Greek civilizations and highlight the most important facts but it’s almost impossible with his arm around my shoulder and his thigh tight against mine. His hand slips under my thick book and he squeezes my upper leg.
Holy shit, he turns so he’s resting more on his thigh, his body keeping prying eyes at bay as he moves his fingers higher until he connects.
My breath hitches and my face turns red. Unless someone walks down the aisle, they’ll have no idea. Quickly, he takes off his hoodie and slips it under my book, over my bare legs.
“You got goosebumps, hun.” The dialog’s for anyone who might be watching but I have a feeling he’s done this before and not fooling anyone.
Still, now he’s started, I want more.
People can wonder all they want but they can’t see anything but my embarrassment which I turn to the window.
“Don’t worry. No one can see anything.” His fingertip slides away the tiny sliver of my thong, the fabric already wet.
He hisses out a stream of air. “Fuck. I can’t believe you. You want me bad, huh?”
I pretend to read, but my face is heated and I bite my lower lip when he begins to stroke.
“I got you, Star. Relax.”
My head moves in the slightest of nods and he takes it as a green light. My breasts all but pop out of their bra as I clench the sides of my book and tear my glance off the page.
His dark eyes focus on my face, his pursed lips open, and his nostrils flare. Breathing hard, he continues his gentle assault on my bundle of nerves.
No leather to chomp down on, I use the tip of my highlighter, and widen my legs under the soft cotton cloak. My lubricated nub swells under his touch, my blossom flowers more, and my breath hitches.
For fuck’s sake, take me.
He senses my frustration but refuses to speed up my arousal. He backs off and waits for me to come down before starting up again. The third time his finger gets close, I arch up into him and he presses.
“Mmmph.” Closing my eyes, I moan into his mouth that crashes down on mine to keep me from announcing my orgasm to the whole bus.
At some point, I find reality and when I open my eyes, his are staring into mine.
I want to do the same to him but he’s in the center aisle seat. No way would it work.
He reads my mind, moves my hair away from my ear, and whispers. “Later.”
Tired, I rest my head onto his chest, his chin drops, and we sleep soundly most of the way.
The bus stops, the football team exits, and I catch up with Kira outside. After we check into our room there’s not much time to do anything but eat, practice, sleep, and then we’re out on the field.
The pep band is only a small part of the regular marching band but we make a lot of noise when the team bu
rsts onto the field. I bang my drum with a special cadence I made up just for Jackson. He recognizes the difference, looks to the seats, and waves.
Then, he’s all about the game and in the zone. The score is even until Jackson catches a seemingly impossible high throw in the end zone. The cheerleaders all rush the field, one of the sluttiest, bouncing her boobs toward my man.
“Hell no.” I grab Kira’s hand and rush off the bleachers. She finds Ryan first and I push the boob-queen away to get my hug. Only my tits get to crush into him.
There’s TV cameras everywhere, reporters, and some serious guys taking notes who I’m guessing are scouts. I’ve never been in his arms after a game and the rush is heady.
Jackson’s grinning ear to ear, black lines on the tops of his cheeks making him look like an ancient warrior. His helmet in his hand, he wraps a filthy arm over my shoulder, smelling all leather and man.
A guy with a snake-like grin slithers up to us and points to a guy with an ESPN jacket. “You’re wanted over there.”
Reptilian eyes turn to me. “Sorry, hun. He’s going to be busy for a while.”
“Later.” Jackson kisses me, removes his arm, and jogs down the field.
Chapter 15
Jackson
Finally, my luck has changed.
“Short answers. Thank your Momma, God, country. Whatever. Do not sound fucking cocky. Got it?” My new agent leads me down the field to the most coveted first interview of the afternoon with ESPN.
I nod. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure.” I’m not an idiot.
The interviewer, Chris Stanhope, hosts an evening football commentary and I raise a brow at my agent who laughs at my shock.
“Get used to it. This is what trainers do.”
Like hell. This is what agents do and I sure as hell hope mine doesn’t get caught.
I answer a few questions, finish up, and do ten more interviews. It’s weird being up here in front of Ryan, who usually gets the spotlight but in truth, since meeting Kira, he’s been off his game. I hope he gets his shit together soon or neither one of us will make the drafts.
We won this one by a fingernail.
Chit-chats over, I walk back with my new trainer-slash-agent to the locker room. This is the first chance we’ve had to talk other than money.
“Thanks, Mr. Shannon, for everything.”
“James. Just call me James. And don’t mention it.” He pats me on the back. “Good game today.”
“Yeah, close, though.”
“Mmm. Who’s the pink-haired cleat-chaser?” When his eyes narrow, I recognize the look, and my blood goes cold.
Underneath the smooth veneer, this guy’s no different than the thugs who tried to beat the shit out of me in the parking lot. Best I don’t let on I care for Star. I’ve learned my lesson. Keep your loved ones as far from evil as possible.
“My latest. They come and go. You know how it is.” I chuckle.
“Good lad. Don’t let one tie you down. Once you get into the league, you’ll get your choice of women and I’ll help you find one that’ll widen your marketability. Keep a piece of ass like pinky on the side.”
My fists clench at my side but I shut my fucking mouth. This guy paid off my debts and is keeping my cousin from certain death. I owe him everything. Yeah, he’s crude but he’s the only thing saving me.
“Will do.” I rush toward the locker room, needing a shower more now than before.
James chuckles behind my back, no doubt knowing the effect he had on me.
It takes a while to ice down. Then, Coach has a post-game meeting where he points out every place we made a mistake. While I had a decent afternoon, I wasn’t perfect and his criticism stings. The team has dinner together where a few local scouts are invited, then, it’s lights out.
CJ Quinn is real old school when it comes to sleeping arrangements but I asked James to set me up with a room on a different floor. I text Star the room number and she sends me a heart emoji.
I’m not a boy scout. I never said I was and never wanted to be one. Still, Star makes me want to be a better man. As soon as I get drafted, I’ll pay off James Shannon, get myself on the straight and narrow, and put my past behind me.
The elevator dings and on my way, I high-five Quest, no doubt doing something similar to what’s on my mind. A junior, he’s still got another year of playing around left.
I was like him, not so long ago. Now, I’m thinking forever. What the hell changed?
I open the door and enter the small room with two double beds, TV, microwave, and tiny fridge. As requested, there’s a six pack laying on its side. I pull one out, pop the cap, and pace.
Where is she?
My cock thickens as I recall how she came apart for me in the bus. She’s so damn confusing. One minute, she’s a punk rocker, the next, she’s got this thick text book on her lap highlighting crap I can barely pronounce.
She taps lightly on the door and I let her in but instead of falling into my arms, she holds up her phone and presses play.
“Who’s the pink-haired cleat-chaser? She a regular?”
“My latest. They come and go. You know how it is.”
“Star, honey. This video was taken completely out of context. Let me explain.” I grab onto her upper arm my heart beating crazy. This can’t be happening.
“Cleat chaser? Are you fucking kidding me?” She unclamps my fingers, her blue eyes blazing. “That’s what you think of me?”
“No, of course not. It was just locker room talk. It didn’t mean shit.”
“Maybe not to you but it meant something to me.” She turns on her heel, opens the door, and slams it so hard, the wall shakes.
While she stomps down the hall, I pick up my cell phone. There was only one guy in earshot and his name is James Shannon.
He picks up on the first ring. “Yeah? What is it?”
“Was it you?” My fist clenches as I picture him going down under a swift punch to the groin.
He fucking chuckles. “Guess she wasn’t too happy. Take a cold shower. You’ll thank me in a few days.”
“You had no right to-”
“Listen up, kid. I have every right to protect my investment. Did you forget how much I paid for you? I own you so go to bed, play ball, and next trip, I’ll buy you a nicer one.” He hangs up the phone.
Fuck me. What the hell have I done?
I sold my soul to another devil, worse than before.
Chapter 16
Star
I press the down button for the hundredth time, willing the elevator to come faster. When it doesn’t, I use the stairs, instead. It takes about six flights for me to stop cursing and another two to gain my resolve.
In the lobby, I block Jackson’s phone number and erase all his texts. The photos are harder but they have to go, as well. As a final bit of revenge, I change my status on Facebook to single, take a smiling selfie, and post it everywhere.
I can’t believe how gullible I am. I walk to the bar and sit, not caring his friends are there along with CJ Quinn and the assistant coach.
The old me would’ve shrunk back into her room and cried her eyes out. The new me is a free-spirit. She understands the mood swings of the universe and goes with the flow. As I nurse a beer, the tightness in my shoulders loosens and my jaw unclamps.
Quest takes a seat next to me. Like all the players, he’s got the body of a Greek God.
His handsome dark eyes search mine. “Star, right?”
I nod.
“You okay?”
“Sure. Not sleepy.” I raise my bottle and clink it with his. “Cheers.”
He grins as another player sits to my left. This one is wider and taller. I can’t recall his name but he plays defense.
“Hey Pinky, want another?” Mr. Defense is the first to notice my empty.
The kicker leans over the bar. “Get your own girl, I found her first.”
The other player’s warm chuckle sounds behind my back. “I’m just sittin’ here, watchin�
�. No harm in that, is there?”
The bartender plops down three more beers and when I reach for my purse, Quest says, “I got this, honey.”
“Thanks.” Having two handsome guys after being trashed by Jackson makes me feel a little better but what if they think I’m some kind of football groupie, too?
“I’m not a cleat-chaser.” I say this to the guy on my left then turn to my right. “You hear me?”
“Ouch. Did Jackson call you that? I’ll go punch his lights out, if you want. I’m Matt, by the way.”
I take his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Star but I guess you know who I am.”
He holds on, slides off his bar stool, and steps in close. “You shouldn’t be down here, alone.”
I laugh, what is this, the middle ages? But, he’s so sweet, I don’t say anything and I really like having their company.
“Don’t you have girlfriends?” They both snigger but Quest pipes up,
“We’ve taken an oath of celibacy.”
Beer spurts out of my mouth and it suddenly seems like the funniest thing in the world.
“Sorry.” I mop up the bar with my napkin.
Matt seems genuinely hurt. “Hey, not everyone messes around.”
I put my hand on his. “Sorry, really. I’ve been in the pep band for four years. I’ve seen and heard a lot of strange shit, but you two take the prize. Why would two handsome players stay away from… oh my God, I’m sorry. You’re gay? Forgive me.”
Both their faces turn bright red and Matt covers his eyes. “I told you that’s what people would think.”
“Holy fuck. You’re right. We need to fix this right now. What if the tabloids heard her?” Quest jumps off his stool looking left and right. “You need to fix this.”
“Huh?” I downed three beers a little too fast and the room spins.
“Just kiss me. It won’t mean nothin’.” He steps in close, Matt behind me so I can’t back up.
“Think of it as payback.” He points to a woman sitting by the wall with a camera out. “He’ll see it and realize what a mistake he made.”
Red Flag (FSCU Pitbulls Book 2) Page 8
