Score (Skin in the Game Book 1) (6 page)

Shit.

By then we were at the steps to Kappa, thank god. I wasn’t sure what I was capable of in this unfamiliar state. I said, “Thanks.”

“Therapy, Monday night? Seven?”

I nodded and climbed up the stairs holding the railing so I wouldn’t do a repeat performance of the day I’d met him. That would be grounds for leaving the country and moving to Mexico.

When I closed the door, I ran upstairs and peered out my bedroom window, but he’d already gone.

I stared outside for a long moment until my phone buzzed with a text from Flora checking to make sure I got home okay. I turned away from the window with a sigh and tapped out a quick reply. Then, I got dressed for bed and climbed beneath the covers and snapped off the light.

This was it. I was going to sleep and putting an end to the oddest, most twisting, turning day of my life. I refused to spend my whole night rehashing every second I’d spent with Callum Samskevitch. It was an exercise in futility. Putting it all out of my head was the best course of action. And, after a good night’s sleep, everything would be back to normal.

But as I forced myself to close my eyes, I had the sinking feeling that normal just wasn’t going to be enough anymore.

I
woke
up on Monday with a pounding headache despite the fact that I hadn’t had a thing to drink since Saturday night.

After I’d left Bee at her house, I couldn’t make myself go back to the party. It seemed so pointless. So I’d gone back to my apartment and had spent most of the night lying awake, looking up at the ceiling.

I should’ve kissed her again. I’d wanted to. Fuck, seeing her dancing like that, lips parted, the soft, full curves of her hips moving in slow circles to the rhythm of the music…all I wanted to do was grab her and kiss her senseless, right there. Screw who saw.

How could I have ever thought she was plain, before? No question about it. Bee Mitchell was damn sexy.

Which explained the dreams.

Saturday night, Sunday night, same deal. Bee buzzed in my head all night long. Dancing in those sexy circles around me. I could still taste her, this uniquely Bee taste that reminded me of summer and sunshine. I could feel her tits pressed against me through the fabric of her shirt, her nipples hard as pebbles, her hands running up and down my chest.

And the second I opened my eyes this morning, two shitty things happened.

I realized it was just a dream, and I had the headache from hell after two horrible nights of sleep.

Which was why I headed to the locker room an hour early. I had to work out some of the frustration that was playing on my nerves. I had to find my center, my zen.

I knew I’d be working my legs with her, so I decided to do chest and back. On my third set of bench presses, though, I thought of the way Bee had looked at me, all sexy with her hair falling in her face as she danced, and my cock pulsed. I knew the second she came into the room, it would fight to make its presence known to her. And the second she touched me? I’d be a goner.

Then Bee Mitchell would likely run away screaming.

Shit. I should’ve jacked off before I left the apartment.

I set the weights on the rack, slid out from under them, and hurried to the bathroom, thinking that if it was empty, I might still be able to. My cock swelled just thinking about taking the pressure off…imagining Bee was with me. But wouldn’t you know it, the second I got there, the door opened, and she stepped inside, shaking icy crystals from her dark hair.

She spotted me and immediately blushed.

My cock twitched again and I gritted my teeth. Oh, hell, I was so screwed.

“It’s like, freezing rain out there,” she mumbled, pulling off her jacket. She was wearing a Kappa t-shirt that outlined her tits so perfectly, I could see the barest hint of nipple, and I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for strength. “I slid all the way here.”

Funny thing was, I hadn’t noticed the weather. It had been spritzing a little when I left home, but I figured after the twenty-some inches of snow Mother Nature had recently dumped on us, a little rain was a nice change of pace. Besides, I’d had other things on my mind.

“You didn’t fall this time?” I said, forcing a grin in hopes of getting things back to familiar footing.

She pressed her lips together. “No. I know, small miracle. I think it only happens when you’re around because—”

“Of the weak knee thing,” I said with a wink. “I get it.”

“Funny, I was going to say because you’re bad luck.” She stuck her tongue out at me and then turned to the therapy table. “We should probably get to it. The weather looks like it’s only going to get worse.”

I nodded and tried to hop on the table without letting on about the monster in my pants, screaming for her attention. I rolled up my sweatpants and Bingo. The second she touched my knee, my pulse quickened, and my cock not only twinged, it thickened. I shifted on the padded bench to try to hide it, but she quickly pulled her hand away, which made me think she had to have noticed.

Then I realized she had goosebumps all over her arm.

She reached into her bag and pulled out some of her supplies, then stared at the ground. I followed her line of vision and didn’t see anything down there except an old wad of gum that had been there so long, it had turned black. Then it hit me that she hadn’t looked me in the eye all this time.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to take this shy routine much longer. She was too damn adorable for her own good.

“The swelling has gone down a little,” she mumbled. “That’s good.”

“Fantastic.”

“You’ve been doing the exercises?”

I grinned, this time for real. She was trying so hard to be professional and businesslike, but I got the feeling one little chink in the façade would send the whole thing crumbling down. I couldn’t help wondering if the reason she hadn’t lifted her gaze higher than my chest was because she’d have to see the mouth she’d kissed the hell out of Saturday night.

“Every day.”

“Well, keep up with them. Then, if all goes well, next week you can move on to some weight-bearing moves in the gym.”

“Thanks, boss,” I said, trying to keep casual. She put her hand on my lower thigh and pushed it toward my chest, testing my flexibility. My cock swelled with every movement of her fingers, and I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the view of her white teeth gnawing on that bottom lip as she concentrated.

I’d taken a bite out of that lip myself and knew exactly how soft and juicy it was.

She started to say something just as a sound rattled across the metal roof. It thundered like a thousand little drummers, marching up there.

She looked at me, eyes wide. Then the lights flickered off.

Underneath us, the emergency generator roared to life, humming so that everything in the room seemed to vibrate. The floodlights sparked on, casting the locker room in a dim white light. I could only see the shadow of her face as she studied the corners of the ceiling. “What’s going on?”

“Ice. It probably knocked down the power lines somewhere.”

Her hands were still on my thigh, and she’d gradually increased the pressure. Now she was squeezing it for dear life. Suddenly she realized what she was doing and let go.

“We better go, before—”

The loudspeaker overhead crackled to life. A disembodied voice boomed, “
Please stay where you are. The storm has caused some downed power lines. For your safety, all school buildings are on lockdown until further notice. Again, please stay where you are. Thank you.”

She did that cute nose wrinkle thing. “Ugg.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”

She sighed like it was the end of the world. “For how long? All night?”

Part of me leaped at the thought, but the rest of me knew I wouldn’t get that lucky. “You could do worse. I mean, wouldn’t you rather spend your night with me than the Kappas?” I swung my leg down and patted the bench next to me.

I didn’t have to look at her. I knew she was blushing. Even so, she climbed up onto the bench and sat beside me.

Her stomach growled. “I’m starving. I was finishing a paper all day and didn’t get a chance to make it to the dining hall.”

“Ah,” I said, reaching into my bag and grabbing a candy bar I’d stuffed in there for a post-workout pick-me-up. I opened the wrapper, pulled it apart, and handed one half to her. “Ask and ye shall receive.”

She took a bite. “Snickers. Yum. My favorite.”

I couldn’t resist. “Like me, it really satisfies.”

She snorted, but we were sitting so close on the bench that I could almost feel the electricity from her bare arm, passing to mine. It was so easy, in that quiet, dark room, to think about the other night. I knew from the way her breath hitched that she
had
to be thinking about it too.

“What was your paper for?” I asked her.

“Foundations of Kinesiology.”

“Ah. Riveting.”

“I like it,” she said, chewing. She popped the last bit into her mouth and started to lick her fingers. “I guess if I’m going to be a doctor, I’d better.”

“Really? You’re going to do…what? Three more years of school?”

“Yeah. Well, plus a residency, and then I want to pursue certification in sports medicine.”

“Oh, yeah?”

I couldn’t keep the dread out of my tone. She could obviously tell that it sounded like a death sentence to me, because she gave me a look.

“What?”

“I guess you could say that school and me don’t go together as well as chocolate and peanuts do,” I replied lightly, finishing my piece of candy.

“Oh. Why?” She cocked her head as if she really cared about the answer to that question.

“Well. Some people would say I have the IQ of a donkey. I like to blame it on dyslexia. Doesn’t really matter. It just translates to me sucking like a Hoover in the grades department. I can’t wait to blow this joint.”

“Which is why you want to go pro so bad.”

I nodded, rubbing my bum knee on instinct. “Yep. When I was young, the kids in my neighborhood used to play Draft. One of my buddies would be the announcer and call us all up to the front porch, and give us our jerseys. I’d pretend I was being drafted by the Eagles. They were my team, and that was my dream.”

She didn’t say anything. When I looked at her face, I noticed she was wincing, that cute little nose of hers all wrinkled again.

“What?” I asked her, giving her a little nudge with my elbow.

“If you like the Eagles, then you have to know Evan Mitchell,” she said softly.

I let out a snort. “Who doesn’t? He led the league in rushing two years—” I stopped, my mind reeling.

Mitchell. Evan
Mitchell.
Bee Fucking
Mitchell.

“Get the fuck out.”

She looked down at her lap. “Yep.”

“Holy shit. He’s your…?”

She nodded. “Dad.”

I couldn’t believe it. I’d pretty much been sitting next to a celebrity all this time, and I never even knew it. In fact, the jersey I’d been handed all those times I’d played Draft with my friends? It had been a Mitchell jersey. My mom had broken the bank getting me one for Christmas one year because it was all I wanted in the world. I was about to tell Bee all this when I saw the way she was looking at her hands in her lap. And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

He’d been a hero to all of us, but his daughter?

She wasn’t a fan.

All my excitement over finding out about Bee’s connection to my football idol kind of just flattened out. She clearly had issues with him and, suddenly, my lifelong admiration for Evan “The E Train” Mitchell lost a bit of its shine.

“He was a serial cheater, and a crappy parent, among other things,” she admitted, her fingers worrying the piped edge of the table.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Looks like we have something in common after all. My dad was kind of an asshole, too,” I found myself replying, wishing I could put my arm around her and pull her close. “When he bothered to come around.”

She looked up, and finally, for one glorious moment, her eyes met mine. And there was something in those eyes, a hint of gratitude, a hint of understanding, a hint of wanting.

Much more of that, and I’d have to kiss her again. Kiss her silly. And maybe a lot fucking more than that. I leaned closer to Bee, my gaze locked on her mouth.

“Look, Bee, I—”

Then my phone dinged, breaking the spell, and she jerked back, cheeks blazing.

I fished the cell out of my pocket with a muttered growl as I peered down at a text from Renee.

C
ome
over tonight and keep me warm. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

S
hit
.

The girl did not take no for an answer. It wasn’t enough when I told her it wasn’t going to happen after I found her hiding in my bed last weekend. It obviously wasn’t enough for her to catch me sucking face with another girl on Saturday. Short of writing WE’RE DONE in Sharpie on her forehead, what else was there?

I made no attempt to hide my phone, and Bee made no attempt to pretend she hadn’t seen the message. “Why don’t you like her?” she asked softly.

I let out a low laugh. “Head games. You know? Saying one thing and then doing another. Not being real. Going off and messing around behind my back and then pretending she did nothing wrong. The list goes on.”

I realized I’d said all that a dozen times when people asked why Renee and I had broken up, but it was just words. For some reason, I felt like telling Bee the truth. “But mostly it’s because she’s not a good person. I don’t
like
her. She’s selfish, and shallow and petty.”

“Okay,” she said, doing that cute little lip-bite again. I don’t think she expected me to launch into TMI mode at that point. “So I take it that your answer is going to be hell no, then?”

I nodded. “Not that it’ll do any good. I found her hiding in my bed last week.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. The girl is used to getting what she wants. She won’t stop until she has me by the balls.” I sucked in a deep breath. “The only time I actually got myself loose from her was on Saturday, when you and I…you know.”

And there it was again. The blush. “Oh.”

A plan started to root in my mind and once it had, I couldn’t shake it loose. “Do you think you’d be able to do that again? Like, permanently?”

She straightened. “Wait. What?”

I got so excited by the idea that I forgot Bee had a brain and wasn’t just going to jump at the chance just because I was a starting football player. In fact, now that I knew about her dad, that was the very reason for her to run screaming in the other direction.

“I mean, not permanently, obviously. Just for a while. A month or so, tops. Until the season is over so I can get some peace. And I mean, we don’t have to go overboard with the affection shit.”

Unless, of course, she wanted to…

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. Affection shit. The horror.” She jumped off the bench as if I had cooties. “Although, speaking of horror, you might want to check into one of those old style insane asylums where they do shock therapy or something, because you’ve lost it. You want me to—”

“Yeah. Just hear me out. If you stick around me and go places with me, eventually she’ll get the idea and screw off. Come on. What do you say?”