Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 14

  They were all gunning to fuck her. I knew that. I knew them.

  I wanted to punch them all in the face and tell them to back off.

  “I'm just … whatever,” I said as I grabbed another beer from a cooler on the floor and started drinking. There were kegs, too, but I liked the cool feel of the glass in my sweaty hand. “Don't you have girls to piss off and chase after?” I asked, and Mason and Kai both laughed at me.

  “Your friend, Teagan,” Mason began, and I swear to God, he knew. Somehow he knew that getting with her would kill me. If I let him know that fucking her or worse—dating her—would be a win for him, he'd do it. He'd make it his life mission. “Are you guys a thing or something? You keep staring at her, and your dick looks like it's permanently stuck pointing north.”

  I cupped my junk with one hand and took another drink of beer with the other.

  “Teagan's alright,” I said with a shrug, giving Kai a look that said I'd kill him if he talked in front of Mason. He stared back at me with his ice blue eyes and waved his hammer in the air around his head.

  “She's gay, I think,” Kai told Mason with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “I picked her up at New Intentions a few weeks back and she totally wasn't into hooking up.”

  “Maybe it was just you?” Mason oozed, his eyes locked onto Teagan's swiveling form. Sexy lips, dirty hips, breasts to make a god cry, why are you doing this to me, Tea? Why are you here? Why did you come to Eugene?

  Things were so much easier when I was sure we'd never see each other again.

  “I'm gonna go dance,” I said, shoving my way into the crowd and working my way towards Teagan. Her cheerleading friend intercepted me and grabbed my hand, leaning over to yell in my ear.

  “Hi, I'm Melia, Teagan's friend.” I nodded, but she wouldn't let go of my hand. “Hotline Bling” by Drake started up as she pulled me closer to her. “Dance with me?” she asked as I looked up and found Mason squeezing through the crowd and sliding in next to Teagan.

  That fucking parasite.

  Fireworks went off in my head, violent red streaks of anger that made me want to scream.

  Instead, I nodded and pulled the girl close, easing into the loose grinding rhythm of the crowd. Over Melia's shoulder, I could see Teagan taking Mason's hand and stepping close, his body sneaking close enough to put her between his legs.

  When her eyes flicked up and found mine, something weird passed between us.

  She didn't want me dancing with Melia; I didn't want her dancing with Mason.

  We were both going to keep doing it—and we were going to pretend it was okay.

  And I had to wonder how much of this was my fault.

  Tyce and I went running in the park everyday that week, but we didn't talk much. Mostly he'd text me one or two word questions like 'park?' or 'you game?' and then I'd send him a time. He'd text me again when he was downstairs, and I'd head out, purposefully hiding his presence from Chelease. After our Halloween talk, she'd gone completely dark, could barely even look at me.

  Today was Friday, the day before yet another game and Tyce was gone, in California to play the USC Trojans at the LA Memorial Coliseum. I missed him already.

  “Teagan,” Melia said, leaning over and kicking me in the shin. When I looked up, I noticed most of our technical writing class was already gone and the next group of students was shuffling in. Oops. “You want to head back to my place and work on the paper together? I seriously have no clue what I'm doing.”

  I wanted to tell her that was because she skipped class to smoke pot all the time, but I knew I was being a petty bitch. I just couldn't shake the image of her up close and personal with Tyce at the party. I mean, she'd had a crush on him for a long time, but now she knew what'd happened between us. Shouldn't that have made him off-limits? Wasn't there some girl code thing about not screwing guys that your friends lost their V cards to?

  “I can't. I promised Chelease we'd have dinner together.” That was a complete lie, but I didn't know how else to get out of this without hurting Melia's feelings. I might've been stupid jealous about the dancing, but I suppose I had no right to be. I'd danced on and off with Mason Fenna, even spent some time with Kai and some guy named Kirk. At the end of the night, Mason had been moving in hardcore, trying to get me to stay the night, but Tyce had swooped in and acted like an asshole, commandeering Kai's car to drive me home.

  I wasn't sure if I was ready to hook up with anybody yet, but that didn't mean I needed him looking over my shoulder like that. He was worried about his friends taking advantage of me, yet hadn't he already done just that?

  “Aw, bummer,” Melia said, drumming her hands on the desk in front of her and then standing up and grabbing her laptop bag. She squeezed my shoulder affectionately and smiled. “But you'll be over tomorrow to watch the game, right?”

  “Eh,” I started, but Melia was already shaking her head at me. She put her palms flat on the desk and leaned over, her pink hibiscus earrings swinging with the motion.

  “Nope. You've been avoiding me all week. Is this because of Tyce?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and stuffed my laptop back in my bag before reaching up to fix my ponytail. I was still picking flecks of paint from my hair despite several washings. This time I came away with some purple.

  “I'm not avoiding you,” I said as I slung my bag over my shoulder and started towards the door. Melia followed after me, her loose, flowing halter dress drifting around her ankles. It was sixty degrees and raining outside, but she was wearing sandals and an anklet made of shells. “Why would you think that?”

  “I just wanted to dance with Tyce to say I'd done it,” she told me with a half-smile. “I'm not about to pick your cherry popper off the tree.”

  “That's gross,” I told her as we moved down the hall towards the door. “And honestly, we're not together. If you want to pursue him, go for it.” Wow, that felt weird. I was saying the words and they were technically true, but I didn't mean them at all. If I found out Melia and Tyce had slept together, I'd never be able to look at her the same way again. It was cruel, but true. I hated feeling like that.

  “Um, okay,” Melia said, her dark brows knitting together before she shook her head and made some decision based on my facial expression. Apparently that decision was it's not worth it, so she moved on. “But you have to come to the game tomorrow. Please? We missed you last week. Risika won't stop mentioning that time you promised to teach her how to contour.”

  I felt a small smile curl my lips.

  “So … is that a yes?”

  I thought about my reasons for not going over there, hanging out, making friends. They all had to do with Tyce. Jesus. If he was still ruling my life, then something was wrong. He wasn't here, twisting my arm and making me say no. That meant this was all on me.

  “Okay,” I said and Melia squealed, leaning over to give me a cannabis scented kiss on the cheek.

  “I'll text you later,” she promised and then disappeared into the women's bathroom.

  I kept going, outside into the rain and straight to the bus stop.

  'What are you up to tonight?'

  I stared at the text from Tyce and tried to imagine what he was doing. I hoped sleeping was next on his to-do list because it was getting late, and he had a game tomorrow. I was nervous about watching him. I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like the cameras or the commentators spent their entire time talking about Tyce. But when they did, when they zoomed in on him, shouted his name in excitement, replayed some gravity defying pass or track worthy spring, I felt my heart skip a little. I felt proud.

  I felt like he was mine.

  'Wondering why you aren't asleep yet,' I shot back as he sent a Snap from his phone. It was a picture of his bare feet and muscular legs, his right leg popped up at the knee, showing off the sexy tanned curve of one calf. The banner across the middle of the picture said sleep before the big game—totally happening with some clouds and rainbow stickers all over the edges. It was so random
and weird that I burst out laughing, enjoying being alone in the apartment for once. I had no idea where Chelease was, but I was glad she was having a night out. That rarely happened.

  'Seriously, go to bed,' I texted back, turning on my side and trying my best not to think about our sexting session. It was so hot. I wanted it to happen again—badly. Lying there in the dark with my body starting to throb, I almost sent him a dirty picture. Instead, I scrolled back through our conversation and stared at the video of him jerking off. I pressed play and watched it through, my breath picking up and my thighs clenching as I stared at his tattooed hand wrapped around his cock.

  Damn it.

  I wished he'd have sent me the pics via Snapchat, so they'd be gone by now. Vanished. Erased. Poof. Instead, I was sitting here staring at something I could never have. Not that I was even sure I wanted him. He clearly didn't want a relationship, but I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation at the coffee shop.

  “If I'd stayed, we would've gotten married and had kids and lived in a shitty trailer by the cemetery.”

  That particular sentence was still playing on repeat in my head. It was an admission from Tyce that he felt something between us, something other than this new physical attraction he felt for me. It was proof that even before he'd left, he'd loved me in his own way.

  I sighed.

  Pointless path. A hallway with no end. That's what those thoughts were.

  'Let's talk about something random,' Tyce sent. 'Something that's so boring, I'll have no choice but to fall asleep.'

  I smiled, my phone tucked in my hands. I felt braver at night like this, in the dark, without his handsome face staring back at me, those blue-gold eyes boring into my soul. I didn't have to stare at his lush lower lip and wish I was nibbling on it. And … that man seriously hated wearing shirts. Most of the time we went running, he was going without. I thought he did it on purpose. Either for my attention or for the numerous women that inevitably got caught in his orbit.

  'Okay,' I said. 'I've got a classic: what's your major?'

  I got a big LMFAO in response and a stupid emoji of a smiling cactus.

  'Journalism, just in case I break my leg or something. And you're computer sciences? We're both boring.'

  'Boring? Just me. You're Mr. NFL. You'll be making like seven figures or something, won't you?'

  'Eight,' he texted back and then sent a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. 'Or nine. Kidding. Maybe. Weird to think about, right? I feel like being poor is in my fucking blood.'

  'Never forget where you came from,' I sent back, the ache between my legs dulling a little with our new conversation. It was sobering to think about, Tyce leaving again, turning into a real celebrity with millions in the bank and the world at his fingertips. He'd made a good choice, I realized as I stared at the words on the screen. He'd done right by himself by leaving Quaker Park. Disappearing on me and my mom was like the best thing that'd ever happened to him.

  My chest got tight, and I suddenly felt like a bitch for ever being mad at him.

  So he'd made Venus cry, so I'd pined after him with a fragile fourteen year old heart. Big deal. Tyce was beating the cycle of poverty, living the dream. He was doing what he loved most and getting paid for it.

  I felt so sick that I actually got up, left my phone on the bed and went into the kitchen to grab a drink. I settled on a glass of orange juice and took it back in the room with me, staring at the facedown cellphone with a sense of dread building up inside of me.

  I still kind of hated Tyce for what he'd done to me and my mom, but I understood it. Me. I was a problem for him, a distraction. I both loved and hated that.

  When the phone buzzed again, I picked it up.

  'Never,' he texted back and then, 'I fucking miss Venus a lot.'

  I swallowed a lump in my throat, let my thumb say, 'me, too.'

  'When I get rich, I'll send you some money. You'll never have to worry about a thing. I want to do that for you.'

  What the hell, Tyce? I wondered as I stared at his message and sipped my juice. It was starting to taste like ash again. Great. My emotions were like a bundle of tangled string. I just wanted to grab some scissors and start cutting pieces off.

  'Part of me wondered if you'd come here,' he sent next and I furrowed my brow.

  'What?'

  'Here, to Eugene. I knew you'd find me. I wondered if you'd come. That's why I decided to play another year for the Ducks.'

  Umm.

  I had no idea how to respond to that.

  'You're not drunk again are you?' I texted back as I finished my juice and then took the glass back in the kitchen, just so I had an excuse to pace around the apartment. Everything was dark and basked in shadow from the hallway nightlight. It made me feel weirdly alone, like I needed to get out of here. But it was like two in the morning. There was nowhere I wanted to go.

  'Nope.'

  'Then I'm not sure why you're saying these things. It's weird.'

  'I guess. I just wanted you to know that I'm not a heartless prick. I like you, Teagan. I just want you to know that you deserve better than playing second place to football. You shouldn't have to be number two.'

  I blinked back at the screen and then plopped down heavy on the couch. What. The. Hell.

  'You deserve to be somebody's number one,' he continued, sending the texts in short little bursts. 'I want you to find somebody that can make you their everything.'

  I think Tyce was trying to be comforting, but I felt even sicker than before.

  'Somebody that doesn't run off because he's scared.'

  And then, 'Teagan, you there?'

  'I'm here,' I shot back, not sure what else I should say. 'Can we talk about majors again?'

  There was a long pause before Tyce responded.

  'Tell me about your classes,' he said, and I just started typing a bunch of nonsense. How Risika liked to wear different color shoes on each feet, how Melia's brother, Loe, had just proposed to his girlfriend, how I hated my discrete mathematics class. I sent him anything and everything I could think of, just to shut him up. If he kept sending me weird messages, I'd break into pieces and I wouldn't know how to put myself back together.

  After a while, Tyce stopped texting me back and I knew he'd fallen asleep.

  It took about four hours for me to do the same.

  I showed up at Melia's place with bags under my eyes and absolutely zero makeup on my face. Not my usual look, but I was too tired to bother with it. I had such terrible insomnia last night, reading and rereading Tyce's texts as I tried to figure out how to feel about them. About him. Four years of resentment and disappointment twisted up with anger and frustration at being used, and then, even more surprising, empathy and understanding.

  I had no clue what I was doing.

  I missed the kickoff and walked in to see a replay flashing on the screen with Tyce front and center, the commentators screaming in the background.

  “… gonna snap it directly to Ballard. Now he looks to throw downfield. There's Winship. Ten … five … end zone! Touchdown, DUCKS! Ballard to Winship, forty yards for the score.” I stared at the screen as Tyce caught the ball and ran it down the field. While everybody else was admiring his athletic prowess, I was checking out his ass in the emerald green pants he was wearing. My heart thumped and throbbed at the sight of him on ESPN, and I couldn't decide if I was proud of him or if it was just … weird. My childhood friend, the guy I'd fucked in the park, sexted with … on TV.

  “Sit, sit, sit,” Melia said, scooting off her beanbag chair and offering it to me. The rest of the living room was taken up with the usual suspects: Melia's brother Loe and his girlfriend-turned-fiancée Thina, Mee, Dane, Alton, Nyle, Vienna, and Risika. I now had a face to put to each name, too. I was starting to get the hang of this group. They were chill and easy going, fun to hang out with, simple to get along with.

  What wasn't simple was how choked up I got watching Tyce in his uniform. He looked criminally good in it. I w
ant him to fuck me in it, I thought and then swallowed hard as I plopped into a beanbag chair.

  “Your boy is killing it today,” Risika said as she leaned back and let Alton play with her blonde dreads. I think they were sleeping together, but I wasn't sure. Melia had tried to set me up with the dark haired boy last week, claiming a revenge fuck was what I needed to get over Tyce, but it just wasn't happening. Sex and dating changed relationships, blurred the lines, made things, well, weird. I wasn't going there with any of these people.

  “He's not my boy,” I said as I reached down and grabbed a frozen burrito, still stuck to the tray it was cooked on and sitting on the floor. They weren't big about utensils around here. “But thanks anyway.” I started stuffing my face with any snack I could get my hands on, watching the game with a dark filter over my brain.

  You deserve to be somebody's number one.

  Why did he have to say that? I knew he was right; I did deserve that. But his statement also made me wonder, if I was willing to be second, if I was okay with that, could I have him?

  I don't want him, I told myself, but that, that was a lie.

  Before I realized what she was doing, Melia had my phone out of my purse and in her hand.

  “I want to see that pic you took of me at the party,” she explained absently as I stared like a zombie at her flat screen and watched Kai jump on Tyce in a congratulatory man hug. Huh.

  “Sure,” I said and then my eyes snapped open and I lunged for the phone. But it was too late. Melia was watching Tyce's sex video. Her hand clamped over her mouth as I tore the cell from her fingers and tried to shut it off before Tyce could speak.

  Too late.

  “That was all for you. Because I can't stop thinking about you, Teagan.”

  Melia screamed against her hand as Risika leaned over and tried to see what all the commotion was about. I shoved my phone back in my purse and stood up suddenly, skin flushing hot from head to toe. Once again, the cameras were focused on Tyce and his Football God Glory.

  “Teagan,” Melia whispered as she dropped her hand to her lap and everybody in the room turned to look at me. “You naughty girl.”