Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (13 page)

And with all this resentment I created and was drowning myself in, I'd forgotten he was people, too. He was once a kid full of dreams, hopes, and promise, with a family that loved him. He had his own set of boys that he ran with in college. And no matter how much we jerked his chain around, the man found himself a good, loyal woman. For fuck's sake, he's got a kid on the way. The man was living his dream; most of us would be lucky to be half as happy as the guy truly was – and he deserved every bit of it.

We could argue all day about who had more talent, but it didn't matter. He had the drive and commitment I didn't have, and that's what counted. I was the only one who fucking refused to see it. And now he was gone. Robbed of everything else he could have been.

“Warner? Hey, Warner!”
Baldwin emerged from the crowd, stalking angrily in my direction. The startled priest stopped his eulogy abruptly, prompting all appalled gazes to shift towards me. I stepped out from behind the tree, spacing my feet apart.

“Baldwin, don't do this. Not here. Not now –”

“Gentlemen, please!” The priest called out from the back, his eyes darting back and forth between us. “This is a funeral, for crying out loud! There will be none of this –”

“You got a lot of nerve showing your face around here.” Baldwin's shoulders were visibly shaking with rage. Spit was frothing in the sides of his mouth. “Are you trying to get your fucking ass beat? 'Cause we can go right the fuck now –”

I could hear Coach and Dubois' voices in the back as they started towards us.

“Back the fuck off, Baldwin,” I hissed, taking a step back from him. “You're making a scene. I'll leave, but if you touch me, I swear I'll make your head spin so fast –”

“Guys, guys!” Out of nowhere, Armstrong pushed his way out of the crowd, sprinting past Coach and Dubois. “It's okay, Coach. Mr. Dubois – I got this.”

Armstrong caught up with Baldwin from behind and whispered something into his ear. Baldwin was glaring at me and breathing jaggedly through his flared nostrils, but he finally backed off. He shot me one last scathing look over his shoulder and slunk back to the crowd, his shoulders slumped. The grumbling priest shook his head, returning to the front.

“Sorry about that,” said Armstrong softly. “But I think it's best if you leave. Emotions are still running high, as you can probably tell. But hang in there. It'll simmer down soon.”

“I – yeah, thanks,” I muttered, furrowing my brows. “I'll do that.”

But as I turned around, Armstrong put a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, man, if you ever need to talk, just give me a holler.” When he saw the quizzical frown on my face, he quickly added, “I know we've never really hung out, but I figured you could use some company. Just looking out for ya. After all, we do go way back.”

I paused, thinking hard. To say it was weird that Armstrong was being so nice to me was a fucking understatement, but he was looking back at me with a straight face. Behind him, I could still feel the team's hateful eyes digging into me. And when my eyes met Hardwick's for a brief second, he turned away from me. That said, his doleful, downcast eyes looked more sad than they were angry.

“Yeah. Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that.”

Chapter Eight:
Brooklyn

2016

“
Roll up to the party with my wheels on fleek, wheels on fleek, wheels on fleek,

Get your girl and her friend and we can freak all week, freak all week, freak all week...
”

“Seriously?” I groaned, draining my daiquiri. “How has this song not faded into obscurity yet – where it belongs? I had to pretend to like this godawful song for months. Months, I tell you!”

“Sorry, Brooks, bad luck. They've got a new DJ tonight.” Tabitha leaned over the railing, hiccuping as she pointed out the DJ booth. The DJ bopped along to the music behind his laptop, his light-up shades flashing obnoxiously. Tabitha screwed up her nose. “One that deserves to have his license revoked, if that's a thing.”

“Tell me about it.” I grumbled, setting my drink down on the table. “X-Dawg. Pfft.”

“Come on, look on the bright side,” said Tabitha cheerfully, nudging me lightly in the rib. “I've spotted more than a few hotties tonight. That guy with the blue suit in the VIP lounge wouldn't stop eyeing you.”

“They're alright,” I replied sulkily, slouching my shoulders.

“Fine, enjoy your pity party.” Tabitha rolled her eyes, smiling. “I'm gonna go refresh our drinks. Be right back.”

When Tabitha left, I leaned against the second floor railing, gazing down at the rowdy partiers below me. The packed dance floor was a colorful, throbbing mass. Multicolored paint was splashed across their faces and exposed body parts. Some had their clothes ruined from the paint, while others opted to simply go without. And as the lights of the club dimmed, the mass illuminated the dance floor, the chaotic colors of neon paint glowing brightly in the dark.

“You rang?”

A beefcake in a cobalt-blue suit walked up next to me, resting his elbows against the railing.

“Excuse me?” I frowned, my forehead puckering. “Do I know –”

“'Cause that sweet ass sure is calling out to me.”

“Uh-huh. I'm sure it is.” I straightened up and edged away from him, but I was a tad amused. “Just curious – has that ever worked out for ya?”

“No, not really,” the guy admitted, grinning as his lecherous, narrowed eyes swept me up and down. “But I've been watching you all night, so I thought I'd take a shot. I'm gonna be straight up – you're sexy as fuck. Can I buy you a drink?”

“I'm flattered, well, sort of, but no, thank you.” I smiled at him stiffly.

“Then, uh, you wanna dance?”

“No, thanks. I'm waiting for a friend, but you have yourself a good night, sir.”

“Come on, just one –”

“Brooks! Hey, Brooks! Look who I ran into at the bar!”

The music was so loud the floor was quaking, but when Tabitha returned with Daymond and Ace, my ears started ringing. Even in the dark of the club, I could see how red and sweaty Ace's face was. His loosely pulled back hair was tousled and the collar of his shirt crumpled, but he was still sexier than any man I'd seen in the club tonight. But as internally conflicted as I was, the guy next to me seemed doubly flustered.

“Whoa, sorry, Warner.” The man jerked away from me like he'd been zapped, bowing his head. “Didn't realize these were your girls.”

“We're not anyone's –” I started, but the guy had already booked it.

“Hey, Brooklyn.” Daymond nodded at me, smiling. “How you doing tonight?”

“Daymond and I are gonna hit the dance floor,” Tabitha announced, hooking her arm around his. She winked at me knowingly. “We'll see you guys later!”

“Tab, wait –”

But Tabitha and Daymond whirled around and left. And when Ace cozied up to the spot next to me, goosebumps sprouted all over my arms. I fingered the cold steel of the railing nervously.

“You – you look amazing tonight,” Ace whispered, leaning close to me. The sour smell of whiskey flooded my nostrils. “I missed you. Sorry, I haven't called. I got caught up at work. I was gonna call you when I got back from San Francisco, but I got a little...preoccupied.”

“It's – it's fine.” I adjusted my bustier crop top, still keeping my eyes on the crowd below.

“Well, how've – how've you been?”

“I've been good,” I answered him matter-of-factly. “Xavier and I broke up.”

“Really?” His glazed eyes brightened for a second, but it quickly disappeared when he started swaying back and forth against the railing. “I mean, I'm sorry to hear –”

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed, chewing on my tongue as I finally made eye contact with him. “How hammered are you?”

“Please – I'm – I'm fine,” he slurred with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I haven't even gotten started –”

I swung out my hands instinctively, catching him as he tipped towards me.

“I rest my case,” I grumbled, helping him to his feet. I tried to pull away, but he held onto me.

“I know you've heard.” Ace's warm breath tickled my earlobes. “I can tell by the way you're looking at me.”

An icy blast shot through my veins. I started going a little dizzy with all the thoughts and questions bouncing off in my head. Was he about to confess? Right here, right now? He was nowhere near a coherent state – there was no way he should be running his mouth right now. Sure, half of me was absolutely dying to know, but the other half was terrified to hear him go on.

“Yeah, but let's not do this right now. Not here – not when you're this drunk –”

“Please – please Brooklyn, will you listen to me?”

My shoulders tensed up, but I clamped my mouth shut.

“I didn't do it. I'm being set up.”

It was boggling my mind. There was a glimmer of crystal clarity in his warm brown eyes. What's more, the steady conviction in his voice shook me. But still, this wasn't the time.

“I'm sorry, Ace, I don't know what to say. We'll talk about this later –”

“Brooklyn, please, you've gotta believe me.” He wove his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand softly. “I don't give a damn if no one else stands by me, but I need to know that you believe me. That you're on my side. God knows I ain't perfect, and I've done some pretty fucked up things and I'll own up to every single one of them, but not this... Not this.”

His slowly blinking, but resolute gaze held mine. I stared back at him, the rattling thoughts in my head subsiding. Call me crazy, but everything about the way he was saying this and looking at me was utterly convincing.

“Listen, Ace, I –”

“What the fuck is going on over here?”

Xavier came charging at us from behind, bulldozing through the bar crowd. He looked like a certified jackass with his $3,000 maroon beanie, designer jeans, and a bare chest that looked like a 3-year-old had gotten hold of a neon marker and scribbled all over it. Ace let go of my hand slowly, smirking at him.

“Warner, you stay the fuck away from my girl –”

“You got something to say to me?”

“First of all.” I stepped in between the swelling chests before things could escalate. “Xavier, you and I are over. You need to leave right now before I –”

2 bouncers seemingly appeared out of thin air. They gave Ace a quick nod and wedged Xavier between them, grabbing his shoulders. Xavier's eyebrows shot up, his face twisting with livid confusion.

“What're you – get offa me!” Xavier cried out, kicking his legs as the guards lifted him off the ground and hauled him off in the other direction.

When Xavier was finally dragged out of sight, Ace reached for my arms once more, but I wriggled away from his grasp.

“Sorry, I gotta go.”

I grabbed my clutch and turned away from him, but I paused, looking over my shoulder with some parting advice.

“Ace, you need to slow down. You're a wreck. Go home, take a hot shower, go to bed early for once. I may not be an expert on this, but I'm pretty sure drowning yourself in all that booze is the last thing that's gonna help. But if it's any consolation, I believe you. Good night.”

And with that, I walked away from him and made my way to the exit.

Chapter Nine:
Brooklyn

2004

The air smelled slightly of stale gym socks and old food, but right at that moment, I couldn't have cared less.

Soft, sucking noises and my panting breaths filled the small, cluttered bedroom. From behind me, his warm, broad tongue lapped against my quivering folds. My cheeks squished against the sheets, cherry-red from the blood rushing to my head. Sensing my weakening knees, his rough grip around my waist tightened as he kept my cunt propped up in the air.

My arms lay limp on my sides. The thought of him taking control of me as I lay helplessly before him was what kept my juices streaming out of my soaking cunt. I wanted him to make me cum. I wanted to peek over my shoulder and see my creamy slime dripping down his mouth and chin. And I wanted him to lick every drop off me, pleading for more...

One of his hands slid down from my waist and reached around me. His thumb found my clit, gently playing with the pearl as he buried his face deeper between my butt cheeks. A raspy squeal shot out of my mouth. I could feel the tip of his nose gliding up and down my slippery lips, sniffing my scent.

“Hold on.”

Wiping his mouth, Ace reached for the flashlight on his desk. My eyes rounded dramatically as he tore open another condom, dressing the 6-inch base of the flashlight with the clear, wet rubber. He walked over to me, his hard cock aimed at me like the pointer of a compass.

“Would it be okay if I tried something?” He fell back to his knees, stroking up and down the back of my thigh.

The fleeting panic washed away as I looked back at him. I pinched my lips shut, nodding at him wordlessly. A slow, almost animal grin spread across his face.