Aced (Blocked #2) (30 page)

Chapter Nineteen

“C
OU
-C
OU
-C
OU
-C
OUGARS
!”

The cheerleaders’ chant echoed in my head, annoying me. Typically they didn’t show up at men’s volleyball games, but playing our rival Bridgetown in mid-March drew them to the arena like buzzing bees protecting their honeycomb. Bridgetown’s one-game lead over Highbanks in the conference standings made tonight’s match key to an NCAA tournament berth.

“We never had cheerleaders at baseball games,” Alejandro said. Delight bubbled inside of me, just having him here. His impromptu weekend visit had come only two weeks after I’d last seen him at the White House.

From the other side of me, Lucia said, “That’s ’cause baseball’s boring as hell.”

“You clearly don’t understand the finer points of America’s favorite pastime,” Alejandro shot back.

Lucia pointed her nose in the air. “Clearly.” Her tone was mocking.

To my surprise, Alejandro chuckled instead of escalating the argument. “Baseball
is
pretty boring to watch.” He took my hand and rubbed it with his thumb, sending prickles of excitement up my spine.

The referee blew his whistle, and Dane shot away from the net, clutching the side of his head. I flinched. When he straightened, his hand fell away to reveal an angry dash of red above his eyebrow. Lucia gasped. The Bridgetown setter stood across from Dane with his hands perched on his hips. Had that asshole just hit Dane through the net?

The referee tapped the taut string on the top of the net and pointed his arm to the Cougars’ side of the court, indicating side-out for a net violation. Hadn’t he seen the blood on Dane’s face?

Dane spun to face the Bridgetown player, and though his voice was too low for us to hear, his words brought the player back toward the net.

Our athletic trainer, Tina, approached the sideline, but it wasn’t until Dane’s coach, Phil, came onto the court that the referee realized a player had been injured. The ref whistled again, halting play.

“I wonder if that needs stitches,” Alejandro said.

A trail of blood oozed down Dane’s sweaty face, but his extended arm prevented Tina from examining the wound as he continued jawing with his rival. Their volume increased, and I thought I heard “fucking Neanderthal” come out of Dane’s mouth. Phil tried to talk him down but Dane leaned forward and jabbed his finger through the net, spit flying from his mouth. Josh tugged on Dane’s arm to no avail. The sideline ref scowled as he approached the players.
Uh-oh
. Would Dane get thrown out of the match?

“¡Tranquilo
, Dane!” Lucia yelled. He looked up at us, but when the Bridgetown setter said something, he whipped back toward the net. The head referee blew his whistle again and climbed down from the stand where he’d been perched. This was bad. Just when the arena quieted in anticipation, Lucia hollered something in Spanish.

Dane’s head turned toward us again. I was amazed when his glare morphed into a brilliant smile. He stepped back from the net and allowed Tina to guide him to a chair on the sidelines, where she and the team physician examined his cut.

“
Madre de dios
.” Alejandro cupped his hands over his mouth and looked behind him at his agents. He scanned the crowd as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Please tell me nobody else speaks Spanish here.”

“What’d you say to him?” I asked Lucia.

She looked across me at her brother, and started giggling.

“
Dios
, Lucy.” Alejandro shook his head, but couldn’t stop smiling. He waited a beat. “She just told everyone the Bridgetown setter had a tiny penis. But Dane’s hung like a horse.”

My eyes widened. “Sweet, innocent Rez?” I noticed her characteristic blush finally making an appearance.

“Not so innocent anymore,” Alejandro said. But then he laughed.

Once the team doc had applied a butterfly bandage to Dane’s forehead, play resumed. Almost immediately Dane set a perfect ball, which Josh slammed for a kill. Dane mouthed
Fuck, yeah
as he chest-bumped Josh. Bridgetown’s attempt to rile him had backfired, pleasing me to no end.

“I think I’ll get a drink,” I said. “Want anything?”

“I’ll get it for you.” Alejandro let go of my hand.

Behind us I heard his agents shift in their seats.

“It’s okay, really.” I laid my hand on his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his button-down shirt. When would I get to see them up close? It had been so embarrassing to have Alex refuse my advances in the Lincoln Room, but Dr. Valentine had helped me take it less personally. She said I’d done a masterful job being vulnerable, but I needed to give him some time. The anticipation was killing me.

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it—I just want a drink,” I told him. “You stay and keep Rez in line.”

I expected Lucia to protest, but she was too absorbed in the game to hear me.

His mouth tightened, but then he nodded and stood. “Probably a good idea. Who knows what she’ll say next.”

I laughed as I scooted around him to exit the row. Brad stood as well, looking like he wanted to follow me. But both men had to settle for watching me as I headed slowly to the concession stand, out of their sight. My butt muscles ached from Coach B’s monster lunge workout this morning.

The greasy smell of pizza awakened my hunger, and I considered ordering some food, but Alejandro planned to take me out for an anniversary dinner after the match. I was in a celebratory mood and didn’t want to order boring bottled water. I’d lasted over one month with Alex, and he hadn’t bailed yet. If anything, we seemed to grow closer each week. So I asked for my favorite: root beer. When I punched a straw into the lid, I heard a familiar voice.

“Soda’s bad for you, Mads.”

I held my breath as I turned to find Jaylon right next to me. He had that hungry look in his eyes he always had around this time of year, and his V-shaped physique appeared even more built and defined than a month ago. Woe to his opponents in the upcoming NCAA tournament.

“I think you lost the privilege of training me.” I moved a few steps away from the counter to a less-crowded spot in the hallway.

He scowled. I had him there. “But you gotta be smart. You got OTC camp in April.”

I took a sip of sweet pop as I considered his words. That was thoughtful he’d remembered the timeline of my selection camp at the Olympic Training Center. He stared at my lips as I drank. Then his gaze trailed up, meeting mine. I knew that flash in his eyes: his turned-on look. What was his deal? I hadn’t seen him since Alejandro and I had run into him outside my apartment, and I’d figured he’d finally accepted the end of our relationship. But now he licked his lips, looking at me like he wanted to kiss me.

“You said you’d take me out for my birthday, but you didn’t.”

He blanched. “Yeah. I…” He shrugged. “Been busy. You know wrestling sucks up all my time, ’specially this time of year.”

Nothing took precedence over his sport, even me, and I’d accepted that when we’d been together. I’d believed I wasn’t good enough to rank higher on his list of priorities. Thinking about it now, though, the comment rankled me. “So taking me out for my birthday was just a threat. You didn’t follow through on your word.”

“Ain’t true. Was gonna take you out after the season.”

“Why?” He said nothing, and I asked again, “Why take me out? It’s over between us.”

He looked down, then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his low-hanging jeans. “Think I made a mistake.” His head stayed down, but his eyes rolled up to assess my reaction. “Think we should try this again.”

When the urge to laugh pressed up my throat, I swallowed it down. It would be cruel to laugh in his face. But my callous reaction told me one thing: I was definitely over him. “What about Nina?”

“It ain’t serious.”

Did
Nina
know that? She’d given indications they were hot and heavy. Despite all of her issues, I felt sad for her. And glad I no longer had to deal with his crap.

“You know, Jay, I think you’re smarter than me.”

His eyes bugged.

“No, hear me out. You’re smarter because you knew our relationship was over long before I did. And you were right. We’re just not compatible.”

“Yeah, we are. You and me…we good together. We’re the best athletes at this school.”

“You’re an amazing athlete,” I agreed. “I know you’ll kill it at NCAAs. And I’m grateful you pushed me so hard in the weight room. I’ll be thinking of you at camp—you’re a big reason I got invited.” I searched for the right words. “But we don’t have much in common beyond that. One day I’ll stop volleyball, and you’ll stop wrestling, and then where’ll we be?”

He frowned, but looked at the floor.

“You said I didn’t love you.” That still stung. “I
did
love you, but I didn’t know how to show it. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you in. I’ve learned a lot about myself this year, and you were right. I wasn’t letting you into my heart. I felt too damaged to show you the real me.”

He let out a long sigh as his gaze swept over me. “Girl, you’re a bomb-ass trap queen, dontchu know that?”

I grinned. I would miss his unique way with words. “Thanks.”
I guess
. “You’re bomb-ass, too. We’re just not made to be together.” My smile faded. “It’s still hard for me to be vulnerable—to let others in—but I’m trying.”

His eyes rolled. “With
him?”

I paused, then nodded.

“You’re always with him.” He grunted. “Or some stupid TV show’s on ’bout him being with you. Thought you and him was just
friends
.”

“Alejandro and I are together now.”

I sniffed spicy cologne a moment before Alejandro wrapped his arm around my waist. “We are,” he said. It figured he’d come to check on me. I leaned into his solid body.

Jaylon eyeballed him, then China.

“You doing okay?” Alejandro asked me.

“Yes. Just saying goodbye to Jaylon.”

His hand pressed into my hip, and he kissed the top of my head. “I’ll stop interfering, then.”

When he stepped away, his warmth went with him, and I wanted to be back by his side. He and China went and stood about twenty feet away.

I returned my focus to Jaylon. “I wish you the best. Good luck with everything.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all I got.” I held my hands out to the side. “Do you want to wish me good luck, too?”

After a moment, he nodded.

“Maybe we’ll both be in the Olympics one day.”

His mouth curled into a smile. “Ain’t no maybe about it.”

“Just promise me one thing,” I said.

His eyebrow arched in a question.

“Don’t ever, ever,
ever
sing karaoke again.”

He shook his head. “That fucker, Dane.”

I smiled. “Goodbye, Jaylon.”

He studied me for a long while, his eyes sad. “Can I hug you?”

I looked over my shoulder, then back at him. “Better not. Secret Service might take you down.”

“I’d like to see them try.” But he nodded. “Bye, Mads.”

I watched him walk off, feeling a twinge of my own sadness mixed in with relief. Now I knew what closure felt like.

Alejandro examined me as I approached. “How are you?”

“Really great.” And this time, I meant it.

“Good. I won’t have to teach that wrestler a lesson.” He flexed his fist, and recoiled when I laughed. “You don’t think I could take him down?”

“I’ll do it for you,” China chimed in with a wicked smile.

I blinked up at Alejandro. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to. You’re very determined.”

My response seemed to placate him. “The match is almost over. Want to say goodbye to Lucy and head out?”

I nodded, feeling giddy.

He gestured to my paper cup as we returned to our seats. “I’m thirsty—can I have some?”

I gave it to him, and he stopped short after a sip. “Root beer?” With a moan, he closed his eyes. “My favorite.”

“Mine too. But I’ve never seen you drink it.”

“My family gave up soft drinks when Matty got diagnosed. I used to sneak a root beer now and then, though.”

“You rebel.” I nudged his shoulder.

Five minutes later we’d settled in the back seat of the SUV. It was a mild night, and High Street teemed with college students emerging from their winter hibernation. “Where’re we going?” I asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Passing street lights gleamed in his dark eyes.

I pouted until his hand sneaked behind my neck, stroked under my collar, and shot tingles down my back. I inhaled. “Can we celebrate our anniversary every month?”

His low laugh multiplied the tingles. “Whatever you like,
Arroyos
.”

The Spanish word for Brooks sounded so sexy with the double r rolling off his lips.

I grabbed his suit jacket and tugged him into me. He responded with a warm kiss, molding his mouth to mine. I unbuttoned the top of his shirt and inched my hand inside. His mouth stilled for a second, then he deepened the kiss, which I took as permission to smooth my hand down the naked grooves of his chest. The faint beat of his heart revved up under my touch.