Sugar Rush (Offensive Line #1) (19 page)

I sing Prince’s
Kiss.

I sing it for him. I sing like me, the old me, the happy me. The kind me
.
The one who has never been left, never been forgotten.

I sing like I’ve never lost a single thing in my life, especially not myself.

COLT

“Holy shit.” The Hotness swats at my shoulder roughly, her eyes on the stage. “Dude, holy shit.”

“I know,” I mumble, stunned.

“Did you know she could sing like that?”

“No fucking clue.”

Lilly is powerful on that stage. More confident than I’ve ever seen her. She’s in her element in the kitchen, but on the stage, behind the mic, she’s something else. She’s where she belongs.

She’s like me on the field.

Small and dark in the shadows of the unlit area, she blows her voice through the room with a strength that feels impossible coming from her. She sings Prince’s
Kiss
in this jazz kind of way that’s slow and sensual. Subtle. It comes on you gently but when that low, gravelly voice of hers rolls through the song, you feel it everywhere. The hairs on my arms stand up. She gives me chills.

The sound of her voice literally gets me hard.

When she finishes the song there’s a moment of silence in the bar before the entire place erupts in applause and shouts. People call for an encore.

“Wooo!” I shout, standing up on my seat in the booth. “Fuck yeah! That’s my girl!”

“Yeah, Lilly!” Trey cries before putting his fingers to his lips and whistling loudly.

She laughs into the mic, this innocent, girlish giggle that makes me smile. That make me want to leap over the table, scoop her up into my arms, and take her home.

As the applause dies down Tyus turns back to our table.

“No fuckin’ way I’m following that,” he mutters.

Three songs later and Lilly rejoins our table. It’s after midnight and I’m two songs past my willingness to share her with the world. I ask her if she wants to leave, if she wants to come stay the night at my place, and I nearly growl with excitement when she leans her whole body into me and whispers a simple, “Yes” into my mouth.

It’s about that time that we realize we’re a man down.

“Where the hell did Andreas go?” Hollis asks the group.

We all pause in pulling on our coats to look around the table. He’s right. Castillo is missing.

“He went to the bathroom,” The Hotness reminds us.

“Yeah, an hour ago,” Trey tells her. “Has anyone been in there since he went?”

I raise my hand. “I went a few minutes ago. I did my business, carved Conlin’s phone number into the wall with a big dick next to it, and came back out. I didn’t see him in there.”

“Should we check inside the stalls?” Lilly asks.

“Nah, they don’t have doors. I would have seen him.”

“Is there a back door to the bar? Could he have left from somewhere down that hall?”

The Hotness nods. “There’s an emergency exit back there, but wouldn’t the alarm have gone off if he opened it?”

“Does this really seem like the kind of place that has a functioning alarm system?” Trey chuckles.

“Good point. Should we look for him? What if he went out to smoke and got jumped or something?”

Tyus pulls out his phone, quickly scrolling through it. “Let’s call him before we assume he’s taken a beat down.”

We stand in a circle around Tyus, watching him as his phone rings and rings. I step behind Lilly and loop my arms around her waist. She leans back against me, her hands coming to rest on top of mine.

“Yo, man,” Tyus says, his eyes focused on the floor. “Where are you at?... Home? You motherfucker. Are you serious?... Yeah, your hotel. No, I get it… Yeah, we were worried. We were about to check the alley for your corpse…. Whatever,” Tyus laughs. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got it. Have a good night.”

“He’s at home?” The Hotness demands.

Tyus pockets his phone, nodding. “He went outside to have a smoke, took a walk, got lost, and caught a cab back to the hotel he’s crashing at. He forgot to text one of us to tell us.”

“What a dick.”

“You’re the one who wanted to hang out with him.”

“I didn’t think he’d pull a Houdini on us.”

“He’d rather be at home than hanging out,” Hollis tells her. “I can’t really blame him.”

“Dick,” The Hotness repeats.

“A mopey dick,” I agree. I shake my wrist, checking my watch. “It’s getting close to one. We better head out if we want a shot in hell at getting cabs down here. Bars will be closing soon and they’re gonna get scarce.”

We head for the door as a herd. I push open the door, ushering Lilly forward with a hand on her back. “Anyone wanna share? We’re going east toward the river.”

“We’re headed north toward—“

Trey’s words are drowned out by the sound of shouting on the street. Light pulses from every direction, strobing harshly against my eyes that have grown accustomed to the dark interior of the bar.

I instinctively reach for Lilly. She’s thrown her hands up over her face to shield her eyes from the cameras and I put my arm around her shoulders to guide her away from them. Through the flashes I count four paparazzi, each of them shouting my name, then Trey’s and Tyus’s as they come out of the door.

“Over here! This way!”

“Where are you going?!”

“Lilly! Look over here, Lilly!”

“Don’t do it,” I tell Lilly. “I’m going to get a cab and get us out of here.”

She puts her arm around my waist to hold onto me. “How can you even see?” she asks frantically.

“You get used to it.”

I lead her to the edge of the sidewalk. There are no taxis out here but the street is a busy one. We’ll see one soon.

“Yo! Avery!” Trey calls. He lifts his arm over the chaos erupting between us. Sloane is striding carelessly up the street with two paparazzi in tow. “We’re going over a block to see if we can find a cab. We’ll see you!”

“Have a good night, man!”

Hollis and Tyus walk with them. Two of the paparazzi jump on small motorcycles, one following them and the other idling across the street from us. He’ll follow when we leave. He’s probably hoping we’re going to a club.

Headlights mix with the strobe of the flashbulbs. A car is pulling down the street. A lit triangle rides on the top.

I step out into the street to flag it down. It comes to a stop a few feet away from me and I tap the hood once gratefully before offering Lilly my hand. She takes it quickly and lets me pull her toward the back of the car.

“Where are you going, Lilly?” the last guy with us asks. He gets right up in her face to take her picture, making her wince. “Is he taking you home, sweetheart?”

“Back off, man,” I tell him coolly. “Give her room.”

I open the door for Lilly. She immediately darts inside the dark interior of the cab. I push past the guy and his camera to slide in behind her. The camera keeps right on flashing outside the window even after I’ve closed the door.

“Where to?” the driver asks brusquely.

“Palmetto Warehouse.”

“Canter Apartments first, please,” Lilly tells him hurriedly.

I frown at her. She’s sitting on the far side of the cab, pressed up against the door. “You’re going home?”

She casts me a weak smile as we pull away from the curb. “I’m really tired and I have to work in the morning. I should go home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You live pretty far from the bakery. It’ll make my morning longer going there.”

“Can I stay at your place? I’ll go in and open the bakery with you.”

Lilly’s eyes dart to the rearview mirror where the cabbie’s eyes are watching us. “Um…”

I slide across the seat to close the distance she’s put between us. She looks up at me, her face unsure. “I’m not asking for anything,” I tell her quietly. “I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too,” she whispers back. Her eyes involuntarily move to the mirror again. “It’s just that I…”

“You don’t want the world knowing your business.”

She nods gratefully, her eyes back to mine. “Yeah, exactly.”

I lean down to whisper in her ear. “What if I drop you off at your place, take this cab to a club downtown, ditch the ‘razzi behind us on the motorcycle—“

Lilly jerks her head to look behind us. She had no idea we were being followed.

“—and I’ll take another cab to your place?”

“That’s a lot of work,” she mutters distractedly.

“It’s that or it’ll be all over the internet that I stayed the night at your house,” I tell her honestly.

“Fuck,” she breathes, staring out the back at the motorcycle tailing us.

I take her hand, pressing our palms together. She laces her fingers through mine. She doesn’t look at me.

Ten minutes later we’re pulling up outside her apartment and I know I’m not coming inside. Not now and not after I ditch the tail. She’s gone somewhere, someplace farther away than she’s ever been from me, and it’s a goddamn killer because she’s right here next to me. I can see her, I can touch her, I could kiss her, but she’s not there. She’s somewhere else inside the hatred she has for this kind of life. My kind of life.

“Lilly.”

When she looks at me her expression is a mystery. A mixed up jumble of anger and anxiety that I can’t stomach and I can’t decipher.

“Are you okay?” I ask her warily.

She forces a smile. “I’m fine. I just… I’m tired and this was a crazy way to end the night. The paparazzi thing, it’s not the way I imagined it.”

“How’d you imagine it?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t think it’d be so intense. And being followed, it’s creepy.”

“That guy will leave when I do and it’s worse at night with the flashes. It’s not as bad in the daylight.”

“Maybe not.”

“We’ll see?”

She releases a tight breath, but her smile loosens. It’s more genuine. So is the kiss she gives me. Brief but sweet. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

I take hold of her chin with my hand to pull her mouth back to mine. I kiss her deeply, sweeping my tongue across her lips, inside her mouth to glide it along hers in a slow dance that I feel everywhere. She goes soft against me, melting slowly, the tension inside her easing until she’s leaning against my chest and my arms are around her. Until I know she’s rethinking letting me come inside.

Until the cab driver coughs pointedly.

Lilly breaks the kiss first. Her eyes are brilliant in the dark and I feel like she’s back. I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight.

“Do you want me to walk you up?”

She shakes her head as she pushes open the door. “No. I’ll go alone.”

“Cool. I’m just gonna go back there and kick that guy’s ass for ruining our night.”

She chuckles, her voice rougher than usual from hours full of singing and laughing. It suits her. “Punch him in the dick for me.”

“You know I will. Hey,” I put my hand on her arm. “I was serious. Can I open the store with you tomorrow?”

“You mean today?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Can I meet you there?”

“I’d love it if you would.” She plants one last, quick kiss on my lips. “Goodnight, Avery. All three hours left of it.”

“’Night, Hendricks.”

I tell the driver to wait until she’s inside before we pull away from the curb. I give him my address because it doesn’t fuckin’ matter if the ‘razzi follows me to my place. They all know where I live.

As we drive away a single headlight sparks behind us. The motorcycle is following. They’re leaving Lilly alone. I breathe a little sigh of relief, but inside I’m still nervous. I’m worried and I can’t say exactly why. All I know is that it feels like when I’m on the field and I slip out of a tackle. That rush like I’m on borrowed time.

Like I just dodged a bullet.

LILLY

November 28th

Mad Batter Bakery

Los Angeles, CA

I’m sorry.

That’s the message I get from Colt minutes before I pull up in front of the store. I have no idea what it means. Not until I see it for myself.

“What the shit,” I mutter, pulling into my parking spot.

Colt’s car is there in the spot next to mine, red and loud as a siren, but he’s not standing by the door the way he usually is. There’s no room. The place is swarming with men holding cameras. We’ve had paparazzi outside the bakery before, but nothing like this. Never this early. Never this eager. They’re taking pictures of the storefront, of Colt’s car, of him inside. Of me pulling up next to him.

His door opens the second he sees me but he has to push through a small swarm of photographers to get to me. I’m already out of my Jeep and on the sidewalk by the time he makes it.

“I’m sorry,” he tells me immediately, his words echoing his text. His voice is tense, his hand gentle on my back. “Let’s get inside and lock the door.”

I hurry forward as they snap our picture, and I’m grateful that I took the time to do my makeup today. If this is going to happen I’d rather I didn’t look like I woke up under a bridge.

They talk to us as we move to the door. They ask if we’re dating. They ask what happened to Nikki. They use my name like they know me.

I fumble my keys, trying to get the right one in the lock. Finally Colt takes the chain from me and does it himself. He ushers me inside and shuts the door firmly in their faces, throwing the lock as I pull the blinds on every window. They quiet down when they can’t see us but I can tell from the shadows they’re casting that they’re still out there. They’ll probably stay until the store opens. What do I do then? Can they come bursting in and photograph me all afternoon? How many pictures will be enough to make them go away?

The worst of it, the thought that makes me sick, is that they have my name. Lilly Hendricks; they were shouting it outside. That means they’re only a breath away from getting to Michael Hendricks. Then Cassie Carlyle. Then it’s last year all over again.

I turn to Colt, ready to ask him if there’s any way to stop it from happening, but the question dies in my throat when I see that he’s watching me. He’s worried.

“Are you okay?”

I nod my head briskly. “I’m fine. It’s weird, that’s all. How long will they stay out there?”

He glances at the door. “I don’t know. Hopefully they’ll leave when I do.”

“Can they come into the store when it opens?”

“They can but we can throw them out. I don’t have practice until this afternoon. I’ll stay with you until then.”

“Who’s Nikki?”

Colt blows out a long, exasperated breath. “I was hoping you didn’t hear them ask about her.”

“You don’t want to tell me about her?”

“No, it’s not—It’s nothing. She’s a cheerleader on the Kodiaks’ squad. We dated a couple of times. I haven’t even talked to her in a while. They brought her up in front of you to start shit. They were looking for a reaction.”

I smile thinly. “Good thing I didn’t give them one.”

I’m shocked when Colt doesn’t smile back. Instead he steps in close to me, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “I really am sorry,” he tells me quietly.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“No, it is. This is the fame. This is what you didn’t want. I thought if I didn’t talk about you they’d leave you alone longer than this. I shouldn’t have mentioned the bakery so much. I shouldn’t have come here as often as I have.”

“You said my name on TV the day you ate dicks.”

He laughs, his big body shaking us both. “I forgot about that. Sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’ll stop being sorry when they leave you alone.”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The story right now is that I have a new girlfriend.” He raises his hand to smooth my hair away from my face the way he loves to do. The way that sends lightning down my spine. “The longer we date, the more boring we’ll become. It’ll die down.”

My stomach swims excitedly. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Now he smiles. “Is that not what we’re doing here?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to ask all my other guys on the side what they think.”

“How many are there?”

“Five. Six. Eight at least.”

“Damn, girl. You’re busy.”

I shrug. “I like to stay active.”

He widens his stance, lowering his body closer to my height. “What’s it gonna take to lock you down? Make you a one-man woman?”

“A victory against the Vikings next week,” I answer immediately. “Four points should do it.”

Colt’s eyes dance with amusement. “Are you betting on our games?”

“And taking the three point spread. That’s why I’m gonna need those four points.”

“Holy shit,” he breathes excitedly. “That is so hot.”

I smile happily. “So you’ll do it? You’ll beat the Vikings for me?”

“Lilly, I’ll kill them with my bare hands for you.”

“Running up four points on them will be enough, thanks,” I laugh.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You spend the day with me tomorrow. We played on Thursday so we’re off this Sunday and there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”

I blink, my smile faltering as my heart skips three beats. Four. “Um…”

Colt straightens. “You don’t want to?”

“No, I do,” I swear, and I mean it. “It’s just that Sundays are sort of a family day for me. Michael and I go to our parents’ house for lunch.”

“Right, that’s when you said you watch football with your dad.”

“Yeah. So I can’t bail on that. It’s important.” I try to take a breath, but I can’t manage it. My words are thin as paper when I say, “You could come with me.”

There’s an awkward moment where we stand there staring at each other, the chatter outside sounding impossibly loud. The clock on the wall ticks impatiently. In the back the refrigerator kicks on with a heavy
thunk
.

“Do you mean that?” he asks me warily.

I understand his hesitance. My words said one thing while my tone said another.

I lick my lips, wondering what I’m doing. Wondering if I can handle it. I definitely want to be able to, and I think that’s close enough to being the same thing.

“I do,” I pronounce with certainty. “My dad will die if he gets to meet you and I know my mom would be excited. But if you don’t want to, I understand. It’s a big thing asking you to meet—“

“I want to,” he interrupts decisively. “I’ll be there.”

I nod my head, swallowing to try to silence the rush of blood in my ears. “Okay. Great. I have to work in the morning but I’m off at noon.”

“Can I come in and work with you?”

I chuckle. “I’m going to have to start paying you if you do.”

“I’ll take my wages in apple fritters.”

“You’re hired.” I kiss him quickly, darting out of his arms to head toward the kitchen. I feel wired. Jittery, like I can’t stand still anymore. “Um, if I get the call from my mom that Dad’s having a bad day we won’t go tomorrow. We can do something else instead.”

“Got it,” Colt agrees affably. He follows me into the kitchen, immediately going to the ovens to turn them on for me. He knows the routine by now. “You lead the way, Hendricks. I’ll go where you go.”

I laugh as I toss him his apron before grabbing my own. Tying it behind my back is a chore. I have to stop to wring my hands together. To shake them out before trying again, and I hope that Colt doesn’t notice.

I hope he can’t see how bad they’re trembling.