Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (33 page)

I stepped back and Mason grinned.

“I didn't know you were that into Teagan. I guess it's not the same for her?”

“The
fuck
are you talking about?” I asked as I forced myself to keep walking away, to head back to my locker and the pile of clothes on the bench next to it. I was going to get dressed, find Teagan, work on this thing. I'd search for her everyday if I had to. If she was going to reject me, she'd have to do it in person.

“Well,” Mason said, picking up a football off the bench and tossing it between his palms. “We had a standing date for tonight. When I texted her this morning to confirm, she said she was still on.”

I felt my muscles go rigid, turning my entire body to stone.

“Tyce,” Kai cautioned, putting his hand on my arm. “Don't.”

“You'd best cancel that
date,
” I told him, but I knew the person I had to talk to was Teagan, not Mason. If she wanted to go out with him, I couldn't stop her. I picked up my jeans, yanked them on. Threw my shirt over my head.

“Yeah, I don't know,” Mason said as he turned and I gave him a look over my shoulder. He was still smiling at me. “If Teagan wants to go out, I guess I'm taking her, you know? She's seriously fucking hot.”

“If you touch her, I'll kill you,” I told him, and I think I meant it. Kai groaned and Mason raised his eyebrows at me.

“Is that a threat, Winship? Because if it is, I could have you arrested for that.”

“It's a figure of speech,” Kai said, stepping between us as I turned and faced Mason. “Just relax guys, okay?”

“I don't have time for this crap,” I said, shoving my feet into my sneakers. For the past month and a half, I'd been dicking around with my feelings, with Teagan's. I'd been running from the same thing I was chasing. And now, suddenly, it felt like there was this huge clock above my head, ticking away the seconds, like if I didn't get to her
right now
I would lose her forever. I knew it was bullshit, but I couldn't shake the urgency. “Can I take your car again?”

Kai sighed, but he didn't protest when I pulled his keys from my pocket and jangled them.

“Try to get your shit together today, Tyce. We have the Civil War game on Saturday, and you know that's a big one. You
cannot
blow that shit.”

“Got it,” I said, pushing past him and heading for the door before Mason could open his mouth and start something again. If he did, I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't knock the teeth out of his face.

Teagan was gone when I got to her apartment, and her roommate wouldn't tell me where she was. Hell, she could've been hiding in her bedroom for all I knew, but when I went around the side of the complex and looked up at her balcony, I could see inside. Unless she was hiding in the closet, she wasn't in there.

“Shit.”

I texted her and asked her to call me back, but obviously something had broken in her last night, just snapped in half. I'd cracked through the careful shell she'd shaped around herself, lit the fire in the angry little girl from the trailer park, the one I'd grown up right alongside of.

She was pissed at me.

And not in the way she'd been during the last few weeks, but old Teagan pissed, the Teagan that'd visited me in the shed in Jackie's backyard, who'd stuffed a rag in her exhaust pipe, who'd thrown darts at a picture of her father's face. When
that
Teagan got mad, things happened. People paid for it.

I waited in the parking lot at her apartment complex until evening practice, but still, nothing. No texts, no appearances, no word.

I punched Kai's steering wheel and cursed under my breath, heading back to the field with my heart hanging out of my chest, dangling by thin strings that spurted blood and blinded me. I couldn't freaking think straight.

So I threw myself into practice with a vengeance, working up a monsoon of sweat,
forcing
my coaches to call me by name. No more Number fucking Eight. Not tonight.

Mason watched my every move, smirking at me, shadowing me.

So afterwards, when he climbed into his red Range Rover and took off, I followed him.

And I wasn't the least bit ashamed of that.

If Teagan didn't want me to bother her, I wouldn't. But at least this time, I could show her that I wasn't running away. Not anymore.

I didn't even know who I was anymore.

I was over Tyce. I wasn't. I loved him. I hated him.

I beat the
crap
out of Jia Yang—and I didn't get in trouble for it. After the cops broke up Jia's party, they knocked on my door and I thought I was done for. But they only wanted to talk to Chelease, who wasn't home yet. They thanked me and left.

That was it.

When I'd run into Jia before class this morning, she'd glared at me, flipped me off, and sauntered down the steps like her face wasn't busted up and bruised. I didn't know how to feel about that. All I knew was that I'd lost it. Completely and utterly lost it. Because of Tyce.

I
knew
that if I let you in, you would be number one. You're my number one above everything. Above me. Above football.

What the
hell
was I supposed to do about that? How was I supposed to feel about Tyce flipping a switch on me?
Or maybe he hasn't,
I thought to myself as I sat in the library with a duffel bag next to my chair. It was stuffed with borrowed clothes from Chelease and a healthy supply of makeup for my evening out.
Maybe he's just realizing how he really feels?

Hah.

I stared at the white screen on my laptop, my partially written paper. It was due tomorrow, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to get it done and that freaked me out. Tyce had an NFL career coming his way, but that didn't do a damn thing for me. I
had
to get good grades, make a life for myself that my mother would be proud of. If I let Tyce hold me back, then the only person I was screwing over was myself.

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on my work, shutting off thoughts of Tyce as best I could. But his words last night … it was like he'd finally figured out what to say but had no idea
how
to say it. And then he'd bailed on me. After all of that.

I slid my tongue across my split lower lip and closed my eyes.

If I wanted to go out with Mason tonight, I needed to get this work done. The thing was, I didn't know if I really did want to go out with Mason. When he'd texted me this morning to confirm, I'd given him the go ahead, asking him to pick me up at the library instead of my place. I couldn't exactly go back to my apartment without risking bumping into Tyce. According to Chelease and the flurry of unread text messages I'd received from Tyce, he'd spent the entire night sleeping on my porch.

It was almost cute.

But then I thought of his flip-flopping bullshit, of him fucking me at the game and running away, of letting Jia kiss his neck at the club, making me come with her hickeys all over his neck.

I wanted to talk to him—eventually—but I needed some time. I had no idea how much, but right now, with the way I was feeling, I just couldn't do it. I didn't plan on sleeping with Mason or anything tonight, but I could go out and have a good time, dance, have a few drinks.

I just hoped I didn't see Tyce at the club.

I shook my hands out and refocused on my paper.

One step at a time,
I told myself as I started typing.
Just take this one step at a time.

At seven o'clock, I closed my laptop and headed into the women's bathroom to change.

Tonight, I was going to wear a flirty little red lace dress with a plunging V-neck—and a really supportive bra. It was another one of Chelease's little sister's dresses, part of a box of clothing she'd left when she'd moved out. I was glad for it though because Chelease was several inches taller than me, thinner, smaller breasts. I never would've fit in her clothes.

I slipped into the dress and then pulled out my flat iron, straightening my hair and then using it to twist some loose curls. A quick dusting of hair spray and they should hold most of the night.

I stared at my reflection as I primped, looking at my swollen and split lips, the small scar on my forehead. Today, I wasn't getting dressed for Mason or even Tyce. I was making myself look nice for
me.
Because I deserved to feel good after last night, after the last several weeks dealing with Tyce's bullshit.

In the past year, I'd lost my mom, graduated high school, left my hometown for good, found my childhood best friend, lost my virginity, had my heart broken. It was a lot to deal with. I just needed a night to regroup, have some fun and let my mind unwind. I was sure that as soon as it did, I'd find a way to talk to Tyce. I wasn't sure what I'd say or what he'd say, or even if I'd want to keep hanging out with him, but I had to try.

Again.

A hundred chances. A thousand. He was breaking me and I didn't know how to say no to him because he was also the only thing that ever made me feel whole. He was the best part of my past, and somebody I desperately wanted in my future.

I took a deep breath, calmed my rapidly beating heart, and leaned forward to start my makeup. Concealer, foundation, powder, brows. I did the boring stuff first and then picked out three different eye shadows—one dark, one medium, one light. I used the dark—a gorgeous hunter green—to line my upper eyelids. With the medium, I shaded the crease, saving the light shadow for under my eyebrows. A rich red-brown liner and mascara followed next, drawing all the focus to the sideways teardrop shape of my eyes. I softened the look with a pale pink blush and a pop of bright red lipstick, just dark enough to hide my split lips.

When I was done, I grabbed my mother's Prada clutch and gave a little twirl in the mirror.

Despite what I'd done to Jia last night, how angry I was at Tyce, how confusing this all was, I felt good. Calmer. Like I'd already been through the worst of it.

“Things can only go up from here,” I told my reflection. An easy night out, a few drinks, and some dancing. It was all I could ask for.

Mason was right on time, climbing out and opening the passenger side door on his Range Rover for me.