Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (3 page)

BOOK: Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
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With an impressive bunching of muscles, he hopped the space between us and landed in a graceful crouch on the cement next to me like it was nothing. He moved like a feral cat, all poised and sleek and wild. Untouchable.
But perfectly touchable at the same time,
I lamented as I stepped back and hoped like hell he'd make a beeline back over to Jia's place.

“I hope you don't mind,” he said as he turned to look at me. “But I wanted to get a better look at you.” I spun away, fully aware that Tyce's hot hard body was just inches behind me. My skin itched to be touched and between my legs, a pulse started that I had a ridiculously hard time ignoring. I
wanted
him to wrap his arm around my waist, pull me against his chest, breathe warm against my hair.

“I do mind, actually,” I said, trying to channel some Chelease into my voice. Oh my God, she'd flip out if she found me standing here with Tyce Winship. The only thing she hated more than football was football
players.
“You should get back to the party.”

“I was on my way out actually,” Tyce said, his voice doing all sorts of things to me that I hadn't expected. When he'd left, I was fourteen. I was eighteen now and everything seemed so different.

“Didn't much look like it,” I said as I leaned down and hoped he wouldn't get too close a look at my face. I wanted Tyce to recognize me, but I didn't want that to happen in the closeted darkness of the balcony. It was too intimate up here, too personal.
If he'd just recognized me at the park,
I thought. Maybe things would've gone differently? Maybe we'd be having dinner somewhere and laughing about old times?

As things were, I couldn't stop seeing his hand on Jia's ass cheek.

“Yeah, well, I have practice in the morning,” he said which didn't surprise me. Tyce had always put football first above everything else including, apparently, me. I'd thought I was the one exception to his rule, but when he'd bailed out of our hometown, he'd left me to pick up the pieces. My mom used to cry over him like he was her long-lost son.

“Guess you should get going then,” I said as his elbow bumped me and he turned to look again, taking in my hair with a strange expression crossing his face. He saw something in me that he recognized, but he wasn't putting the pieces together. Was four years really all that long? Had I changed all that much?

I turned back to survey the courtyard, catching sight of a couple kissing on a bench below us. One of the two was Jia.
Whoa, she sure moves fast,
I thought and then realized that the other guy was actually her boyfriend. Ouch. I wondered if he knew just exactly what she'd been doing up here?

“Are you sure I don't know you from somewhere?” Tyce asked again, standing up and looking down at me. “What's your name?”

“Chelease,” I lied as I stood up, too, and moved into the bedroom, heading straight for the door and opening it. “I'll show you out,” I said as Tyce followed me in and paused to survey my room. I hadn't had much time to decorate, and there were no incriminating photos out, so he quickly lost interest and moved up to stand next to me.

When he noticed the whiteboard on the wall next to the door, a smirk stole across his full mouth. I watched as he picked up a black marker in his tattooed fingers and scribbled a number across the empty surface.

Popping the cap back on the pen, he leaned over and whispered hot, sexy words against my ear.

“When you remember your
real
name, give me a call.”

Football was more than just a game for me.

It was a ticket, it was a chance, it was the one thing that I didn't fucking suck at in life. I failed at pretty much everything else there was: family, friends, school … and Teagan Fletcher. I ran a hand down my face and swiped the sweat from my skin, my eyes locked onto my best friend, Kai Duran. We were nearing the end of practice, doing our version of an Oklahoma drill. Basically, it was about a ballcarrier—meaning me—trying to get past three levels of one-on-one blocks. I get to the end zone, I win.

A smile curved my mouth.
This
is what I knew, what I was good at. Getting that ball where it needed to go made me feel
right.
People recognized me, they acknowledged me, they
respected
me. Three things I never had in my old life.

“You daydreaming over there, Winship?” Coach yelled from the sidelines. “We don't have all goddamn day. Get your ass in there and show us what you got!” I ran my tongue over my lower lip and raised my brows at Kai, trying to keep my mind on the task at hand. Usually, that wasn't a problem for me. Hell, one of the main reasons I liked football was that I didn't have to think too hard. There was a formula here, and it worked. My body knew what to do, muscle memory taking over and getting me from point A to point B.

Today felt a little different.

Teagan Fletcher.

I couldn't stop thinking about her. Shit. Like she really believed I wouldn't recognize her? When she bumped into me in the park, I knew right away. I mean, how could I ever forget that face? She'd lost a lot weight since high school, filled out in all the right places, but those eyes … I didn't even have words to describe that color.

“Winship!”

When Coach screamed my name again, I knew I was in trouble. I shoved thoughts of Teagan from my mind and moved forward, charging towards Kai like I was going to plow right through him. The bastard knew me too well to fall for that crap, anticipating a feint to the left. I followed through with the move until the last second, kicking off and vaulting over his outstretched legs to the right.

I was doing what I always did, what I was
made
to do, but I was still thinking about fucking Teagan. My cleats clawed their away across the Astroturf as I fought for my end goal, proving to myself every damn day that I was here, that it was all worth it.

You don't recognize me, do you?

A hard hit to my side sent me flying, crushing me beneath several hundred pounds of muscle as I was tackled to the ground, the ball still clutched at my side, Teagan's face still flickering in my mind. I didn't know why I was pulling this crap, pretending that I didn't know her—or acting like an asshole about it.

“Seriously, Winship?” our defensive tackle, Kirk Godbersen, said as he pushed up and rose to his feet. With his dark goatee and his mountain of dreadlocks, he looked like a fucking pirate. “The hell is wrong with you? You've been screwing up all day.”

I scowled and ignored him, standing up and raking my fingers through my hair.

“I'm just having an off day, alright? Jesus.”

“Tyce Winship having an off day?” Kai said as he came up behind me and tried to put an arm around my shoulders. With his sandy hair and his square chin,
he
looked like a hardcore viking. Pirates and vikings. That was my team in a nutshell. I shoved him off as our head coach, Deryl Landez, called for us to run the drill again. “I don't buy that. Something's up with you. Didn't enjoy your party last night?”

I ignored my friend and moved across the field, doing my best to shut out everything and everyone around me. These guys, they'd become like family to me, but they still didn't know me. They didn't know where I came from or where I'd been, why I preferred to bail out on their parties sometimes and head down to the dorms or the apartments close to campus. Our locker room might have had marble floors and Ferrari leather chairs, but I was still me.

I was Tyce Winship, trailer trash extraordinaire. I was the boy born on the wrong side of the tracks. I was the guy who fought tooth and nail to get where I was today, and I was the guy who stood on the back of his best friend to do it.

Teagan Fletcher, she didn't know I recognized her, but I did.

The thing was, I had no clue what to do about that.

I spent the next three days running in the park, just on the off chance that I might come across Teagan again. As my sneakers pounded the pavement, I saw her face over and over again, that shocked expression when she tripped and fell into my arms.

“Hey Winship!” I raised an arm and acknowledged the girls standing outside the gate to the dog park, leashes in their hands, Oregon Ducks merch across their full chests. I didn't know them, but it didn't matter. Guess they knew me.

I smiled a self-satisfied smile as I cut across the bridge in a blur and ran down the sidewalk parallel to Autzen Stadium. It was a massive feat of engineering in green, yellow, and concrete, famous for being one of the loudest stadiums in the country. I should've felt proud right then and there, smashing the concrete next to the home base of my alma mater, basking in the glow of recognition and pride that flowed towards me from every corner of the community.

But even the roar of the crowd couldn't drown out the nagging sensation that'd been bugging me since practice. Running around the park like an asshole was all fine and good except I knew it was a stall tactic. I definitely hadn't expected to see Teagan on the balcony that night, but it couldn't have been a coincidence. I didn't believe in coincidences. I believed in fucking fate.

You know where she lives, asswad,
I thought to myself as I continued to run along the edge of the park. Nothing was stopping me from turning around and heading towards her apartment. It would take me all of five minutes to get there, knock, wait for her surprised face to show up at the door. Maybe she'd be happy to see me, but probably not.

I continued running, knowing Coach would probably kill my ass if he knew how much overtime I was putting in. The thing was, I wasn't running for the exercise. Right then, I was running from the memories of a little redheaded girl, from her smile, from the way she put her arms around me at four years old like she could take the pain away.

“Shit,” I said, coming to an abrupt stop and letting my body slam into the trunk of a tree. For four years, I ran away from her memory like it was poisoned, forced myself to put Teagan out of my mind.
You're a fucking coward, man,
I told myself as I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair.

I had to go see her. I had to. I had a fucking game on Saturday and I wasn't going to let some ghost from my past mess up everything that I'd worked for. I started running again in the opposite direction, back towards Teagan, pretending with each footstep I took that I wasn't a coward, that I deserved all of this.

Until a few days ago, I still believed that.

I didn't think I'd ever run as fast as I did on my way to Teagan's apartment, flying up the steps and pounding on the front door like I had a personal vendetta to settle. Hell, in that moment, it sure as fuck felt like I did.

I was mad, even though I shouldn't have been. Every molecule in my body vibrated with suppressed anger and frustration, disappointment and fear, none of it aimed at her. Years of holding it back were catching up on me all at once and I prayed as I waited there that Teagan wouldn't come to the door. If she did, I knew all of this bottled rage would find a purchase in her.

The front door was painted a cheerful yellow, the perfect match to the leaves that littered the ground at my feet. I waited, tilting my head back and doing my best to suck in deep breaths as I listened for movement inside the apartment. When I dropped my head back down, I noticed the curtains to my right fluttering.

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