Stallion: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (12 page)

“Jesus, man,” Troy looks surprised at my outburst. “I got you. I got you.”

I can’t help but scowl as he gets back to the line. Even at seventy percent I’m better than most of these guys at a hundred, but I need to be killing it today, not just getting by.

The fuck is this girl doing to me?!

I let out a roar of anger that the boys take to be a battle cry and yell back in unison.

Jim calls the play and shouts, “Hike!” It looks like my little outburst helped Troy, because he just about murders thirty-two this time, giving me plenty of room to cut through the line for a pass. I’m wide open, but over my shoulder I can see Jim getting harassed.

I cut right, trying to give him a better angle. I’m
wide open
. As I look back, something happens that kills my concentration.

I see Emmy sitting in the stands.

She came
, I think, feeling a tightness in my chest.
All over me last night!

Adding the humor to my thoughts does nothing to relax me. What the fuck is she doing here? Why would she bail on me in the morning, only to show up at the game? Is this some sort of game of her own and she’s the star player?

Our eyes meet. She smiles.

And something hits me in the neck.
Shit! I missed the pass!

I hear the crowd go crazy and look back to see the football hitting the turf.

I MISSED a pass!

Even my teammates are looking at me like I’m crazy.

“What the fuck was that, dude?” Jim shouts at me as I make my way back to the team.

“Lost it in the sun,” I mutter, trying to come up with something believable. Inside I’m screaming. This is
exactly
what I was afraid of. My head’s not in the game, and today of all days, when the scouts are here. There’s no way they didn’t see that.

So it’s one pass
, I tell myself, trying to shrug it off. I don’t want to look over at her, but I can’t help it. It’s like my eyes are magnets and they’re drawn only to her. But when I see the look on her face, my heart sinks.

She’s…disappointed.

No. She’s concerned. Wondering what’s up with me, just like everyone else in this stadium. Forty thousand people can’t believe Walker Johnson just missed that pass. Hell, I didn’t even try to catch it. I just let the thing hit me in the neck.

Time to get my head in the game
.

I tear my stare away from Emmy, feeling my heart racing, and it’s not from the sprinting either. All of a sudden I’m aware of the Texas heat and can feel every bead of sweat on my face. This girl is really messing me up.

“Let’s just run it,” Jim says angrily.

“No!” I roar, grabbing him by the shoulder pad. “I’m going long. Don’t fuck it up.”

He can see the determination in my eyes and nods. I set myself as he calls the play.

“Hike!”

And I’m off like a horse out of the gate. I juke past one defenseman and quickly glance to Jim. He’s about to take a hit, but at the last second, ducks and sends the guy over his head and onto his ass.

Here comes the pass.

Jim winds up and shoots a rocket at me. I’m already twenty yards out. This could be a touchdown if I make the catch.

My laser focus kicks in. No distractions. I can see every lace in the ball, every spin as it hurtles towards me. And like it was nothing, I reach up and snag it out of the air.

The crowd goes ballistic. A quick glance behind shows I’m all alone. A surge of adrenaline kicks in as I sprint towards the end zone. The roar from the crowd grows louder and louder. In my peripheral vision, I can see people leap to their feet.

Go, go, go…

My feet kick off the turf. Closer. Closer. The end zone is right there. No one is behind me. This is all mine.

I can’t help but smile as I cross the line and spike the ball.

Touchdown!

The place goes wild. I turn around in time to catch Jim leaping onto me.

“Hell yeah!” He screams, smacking me on the helmet. “That’s how we do it!”

“I told you!” I yell back as the rest of the boys come in to celebrate. I can’t help but look back into the crowd, my eyes scanning the cheering bodies, searching for Emmy. I find her, clapping from her seat, slightly obscured behind a superfan waving a foam finger.

Her smile is all I needed. I still don’t know what’s going on between us, but maybe she isn’t the coldhearted bitch I thought she was. Maybe she had a legitimate reason for bailing on me this morning. Only time will tell. But for now, seeing her clapping is enough to keep my head in the game.

Plus, when she sees me win, she won’t be able to resist going round two with me. If she thought I gave it to her last time, just wait until tonight.

* * *

W
e win by a landslide
. It’s a blowout. Three touchdowns – two by yours truly, one run in by Bobby and one by Noah. He was pretty pumped. He hasn’t had a down in five games and was starting to lose his confidence.

My performance will be all anybody talks about though. Noah’s only a junior. He’ll have his time to shine next year. But for now, the horde of photographers and media at the sideline are all about me.

“Walker! Is it true you’ve been approached by New York!?”

“Will you be leaving school early!?”

“Has anyone made you a firm offer!?”

Coach P doesn’t like us talking to the media, and I see him shooting me a stern glance from the bench. So I shut my mouth, keep my head down and head for the locker room -- that is until someone steps in front of me.

“Quite the game today. How about that missed pass on the first play?”

I stop in my tracks and look up to see Emmy smiling in front of me, holding her phone out like a microphone. She’s grinning like a sexy little she-Devil, and I could honestly take her right here and bang her from behind in front of all these people.

“Intentional,” I grin. “Had to give them a fighting chance.”

Coach won’t like that one. I see my wisecrack register on Emmy’s face like a small jab. But she comes back right away.

“You weren’t distracted by something?”

“And what would that be?” I say suggestively, causing the crowd of reporters around me to all laugh. Emmy twists her lips, trying to suppress a smile.

“Can you tell us anything about the rumors of you being drafted to the pros?”

“I can,” I tell her, pausing a moment to watch the surprise come over her face. “But I’ll have to tell you tonight – at my place.”

Every reporter’s eye immediately moves from me to Emmy, who looks like a spotlit actress alone on a stage. You could cut the tension in the air with a dull butter knife. Finally, someone chimes in.

“Well?”

Emmy scowls, her personable demeanor flipping back into the snippy little girl I first met at my party.

“Typical jock attitude,” she quips. “Well, let me be the first girl to openly turn down Walker Johnson.”

Bitch!

Her little comment draws a series of oohs and ahhs from the crowd as she turns to go. My blood is boiling. Talk about my stellar game being overshadowed by drama. As she walks away, I get a view of her ass, and something snaps inside me. Coach P is gonna kill me, but to Hell with it.

“That’s not what you said last night,” I shout after her.

The oohs and ahhs reach a new level of volume, and Emmy stops in her tracks. She turns back to me, a massive scowl on her face, and I can just feel Coach P’s eyes shooting daggers at me. I’ll have to run extra sprints for this, but the look on Emmy’s face is priceless.

I
instantly regret my words
. I’m frozen in place. Everybody’s eyes are on me, but I’m stuck staring at Walker. He’s relishing this, I can tell.
Why did I say anything!?

The better question I should be asking myself is
why did I sleep with him!?

This entire moment could have been avoided if I’d stuck to my guns and maintained my professionalism. But I gave in, just like every other girl that ever succumbed to Walker’s charms.

Now these people know!

Maybe they won’t believe him. From the huge smile on his face, Walker is clearly relishing this, so maybe they’ll think it’s just a joke. Or maybe it’s not a big deal. Walker sleeps with any hot girl with a pulse, right? This isn’t news.

I can just see it now, my name plastered all over the front page of the Tribune:

Staff Reporter Succumbs to Football Star’s Charms! Another notch in the belt of Walker Johnson, Houston’s most notorious stud, who decided to take a break from sorority girls and bikini models, and instead set his sights on our very own Emmy Hutchinson.

So much for Walker being just another story.

I shouldn’t have even come today. I should have kept distance between us. That’s why I snuck out this morning before he could wake up. Last night was mind blowing, but it was a mistake. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Ronald’s infidelity had thrown me into a tailspin and I ran to Walker like a wounded puppy looking for a good stroking. And he was more than happy to give it to me.

And I was happy to take it, but when I woke up the next morning, I knew I’d made a mistake.

And now here I am, in front of forty thousand people, with Walker airing all my dirty laundry out for everyone to see. It’s already sweltering today, and I can feel my body temperature rise as everyone stares at me. There’s no question that I’m blushing.
No, that’s not true
. I’m red from anger.

Everyone is waiting for me to say something, but I don’t think I could speak even if I could find the words. My throat feels like I swallowed a cup of sand. How did this get turned around on me?

This happens every time with Walker. I go into a situation expecting one thing, and I get another. From our first run-in at the football house to the followup that lead us into the country to visit his childhood home. And now this.

I should have just kept my mouth shut. I should have watched from the stands, taken notes and turned in my article.

Walker is grinning at me. How long have I been standing here?
That’s not what you said last night!
His words ringing in my head. I swallow and finally manage to speak.

“Yeah, in your dreams!” I spit back like a spiteful fourth grader, before quickly turning and strutting away.
Yeah, that will show him
…

I hear a roar of laughter from the gathered crowd behind me as I make my way towards the exit. I’m shaking. I’m actually shaking. I’m not used to being in the spotlight. I’m always the one behind the camera, so to speak, not in front of it. How does Walker do it?

I don’t know why I’m surprised. Nothing seems to faze him. Life is one big joke to him, isn’t it? Was all that stuff about his mom even real? Or was he just making it up to try and get in my pants?

But we already slept together, so why would he lie?

A storm of questions rages through my mind all the way back to my dorm. Why did I ever take Peter’s story? Why didn’t I tell him to stick it where the sun don’t shine? Where would I be if I hadn’t walked in on Ronald and Cassie?

Ready to explode, I scan my card and push the door open, sucking cool air as I race to my room. I just need to be somewhere familiar. I’ve been so out of my element at the stadium, and I feel like I’m about to have a nervous breakdown.

Abbey is lounging lazily on her bed as I burst inside, painting her nails like some comical photo from a magazine.

“Hey, how’d the game go—” She starts to say casually, but stops when she sees the state I’m in.
I must look rough
. “Uh, oh. What happened?”

“Am I an idiot? Like, seriously. Am I just the dumbest girl alive?”

“You are pretty stupid,” Abbey says. I glare at her, but see the smile on her face. She’s messing with me, trying to lighten the mood.

“Seriously though.”

“What happened?”

I haven’t even told her yet that I slept with Walker. There hasn’t really been time. She was at class when I got home, and then I had to head straight to the game. But that’s not the only reason. I don’t
want
to tell her. Right now what happened between Walker and me is our little secret. That is unless he isn’t giving an exclusive to all the reporters back at the field.

And if I tell Abbey, somehow that makes it real.

But I really need someone to commiserate with me right now, and I know Abbey won’t judge me.
Here goes
…

“So, I kind of slept with Walker.”

BAM!

Abbey literally jumps in bed and slams both of her hands down on the bedposts. I wouldn’t expect a bigger reaction if a zombie had walked into the room.

“WHAT!? When!? Wait, what!? How?”

“Last night,” I say with a sigh. “I walked in on Ronald cheating on me and kind of freaked out and went over to the football house.”

“Wait,” Abbey says flatly, suddenly serious, holding up a hand like a ditzy blonde. “Slow down. Ronald cheated on you – you slept with Walker!? I don’t know which one of these to freak out over more.”

“Neither do I,” I say sadly, lying down on my back, sprawling out on the floor like a snow angel, relishing in the cool concrete floor. Abbey leans forward off the bed, looming over me with wide eyes.

“Okay, so let’s start from the beginning,” she says like a school teacher. “Ronald cheated on you?”

I let out a long sigh that empties my lungs. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” I say. “I mean, I did hold out on him for a long time.”

“You know what? I don’t blame you!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” She says emphatically. “I mean, obviously you weren’t ready, which means you didn’t completely trust him, and obviously there was a good reason for that!”

She makes a good point. Who really knows the ins and outs of how our subconscious works? Maybe my abstinence in our relationship was a byproduct of something in the back of my mind telling me that Ronald wasn’t the one for me.
But if he’s not – then who is?

“Who was it with…?” She asks quietly.

“This bitch Cassie from one of his classes,” I mutter, trying to push the disgusting image of her face from my mind.

“Wait. Cassie Jenkins?” Abbey says quickly.

“You know her!?”

“Uh, yes. The whole school knows her. Talk about campus slut,” Abbey laughs. “If you had any kind of social life, you’d know about that tramp.”

“Well, now I hate him even more,” I say angrily, digging down into the meanest parts of my existence and praying that Ronald wakes up with crabs, or something worse, tomorrow.

“Trust me,” Abbey says comfortingly. “It’s his loss.”

“Yeah…”

“But uhm,” Abbey starts, clearing her throat. “Can we move on to the
real
business at hand? The fact that you boned Walker Johnson?”

Boned!

“Gah!” I shout, exasperated. “Can you not say
boned?
”

“Okay,” Abbey chides. “Made love?”

“Don’t be stupid!” I say, finally sitting up and leaning back against my desk. “We just…I don’t know. I don’t know what we did!”

“Well, okay. How was it?”

Abbey’s question sends me back to last night. Walker’s arms around me. His hands on my waist. His tongue between my legs. The sensations come flooding back, and I feel myself starting to get hot again.

“Amazing,” I admit. “I’d like to say it was awful, that he was just a big douchebag. But, Abbey….
oh my GOD
.”

A twisted smile crosses Abbey’s lips, like she’s reliving my experience vicariously, and she starts to nod.

“I
told
you!”

“Stop!” I shout back, slapping my hands against the floor. “I wasn’t planning on this—“

“Exactly!” She says, waving an accusatory finger in my face. “I told you! And you just kept saying ‘No, Abbey. No, Abbey!’ But I was right!”

Even though I’m furious inside, I can’t help but smile. Abbey was right. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’d succumbed to Walker’s charm. But it wasn’t even fair. Those arms. Those abs…it was like God created him as a cruel joke to all women as a test to see how strong their willpower was. And I guess I failed.

“Yeah, well, it’s over now,” I say miserably. “I’m not ever seeing that asshole again!”

“What!?” Abbey gasps. “What do you mean?”

“He just humiliated me in front of forty thousand people!”

“By…?”

“He outed me!” I say, pouting and slamming my fist down. “He told me I could get the rest of the story from him if I went back to his place with him tonight, and when I said I would be the first girl to turn him down, he said, ‘That’s not what you said last night.’ Can you believe that!?”

To my horror, Abbey breaks out laughing. “What the Hell, Abs!?”

“I’m sorry,” she laughs, making a terrible attempt to stifle it with a hand over her mouth. “But that is pretty funny.”

“It’s not!” I protest, feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.

“Come on, Emmy,” she goes on. “You were trying to show him up in front of everyone.”

“I was not!”

“You were,” she says. “Come on, don’t pretend.”

Why is Abbey always right? It’s the most annoying habit she has, but also one of the reasons we’re such close friends. We’re like two sides of the same coin and manage to balance each other out well.

But this Walker thing has gotten completely out of hand. I shouldn’t have even taken the assignment, but I did. And then I gave into myself and wrote that terrible smear piece on him. Then to make things even worse, I
slept
with him! And now I’m regretting all of it.

I regret putting calling my journalistic integrity into question, but what I regret most, was not protecting my heart.

I’m crushing on Walker
.

Falling for “The Stallion” is beyond stupid. Walker’s reputation proceeds him: he’s not a one-woman man.
How did all those other girls do it?
Not fall in love, I mean. I’ve never been good at divorcing emotions from sex. I mean, I knew there was a reason I never sealed the deal with Ronald.

But I jumped right into bed with Walker after only the tiniest amount of hesitation.
So what is it about him?
It can’t just be his looks and his body. He’s an amazing athlete too. But there’s more to him. There has to be.

But his behavior at the game has me wondering. Would the man I hope he is do something like that to me? Embarrass me in public like that? Air out all our dirty laundry for the entire world to see? He knows how big of a story that is going to be. Not to mention his coach will be furious.

I’m one of those girls
, I decide, feeling a wave of sadness wash over me. Walker sucked me in, used me, and threw me aside. I’m nothing more than another warm body and “nice rack” to him. Whatever notions I had about him being a good guy are gone, and there’s only one thing to do at this point. I make up my mind:

I’ll never see Walker Johnson again.