Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (5 page)

I grabbed my liquid liner from the countertop and leaned forward, using a practiced hand to wrap the darkness around my eye. With my strawberry pale lashes and light green eyes, I needed that darkness to highlight my gaze. When Tyce had left, I'd been a chubby pre-teen who was bullied mercilessly and used anger to fight back. After I got over the initial pain of losing him, I decided to go a different route. I got in shape, learned how to paint my face like I was Pat McGrath, and threw myself into my studies.

So, screw Tyce Winship.

“Fuck him,” I whispered into the mirror, flicking off the bathroom light and opening the door to find Chelease wringing her hands nervously and wiping tears from those high, sculpted cheeks of hers. The dark truffle color of her skin was flushed and beads of sweat clung to her brow. “Are you okay?” I asked as she leaned against the wall in a bright yellow and orange dress that seemed too cheerful against the expression on her face.

“What happened?” she asked me, her voice a little broken, a little dark. I'd never heard it like that before. Granted, I didn't know the girl very well, but I'd at least thought I'd gotten a sense of her personality these last few weeks. “Why was Tyce Winship here?” Chelease swallowed hard and closed her eyes, reaching up to run her palm over her braids. “What was he doing to you?” she asked, that darkness lacing her tone turning to poison. Her brown eyes narrowed, locking onto my face and refusing to let go. “If he touched you—” she began, but I cut her off.

“Oh no, no, no,” I said, thinking about the way I acted and realizing I could've handled things better. “He didn't hit me,” I assured her and, noticing that her expression hadn't lightened at all decided to add, “or anything else. Seriously. We were just arguing and I tripped.”

“You tripped backwards?” she asked, standing up and looking down at me like she could smell a lie. “Sorry, girl, but I don't buy that for a second. I know everybody thinks Tyce is a fucking god, but you can tell me. If he did something to you, he has to pay for it.”

“Thank you, Chelease,” I said, hoping I sounded sincere. Tyce
had
hurt me, but not in any of the ways she was thinking.
Well, then, why don't you let me do you the favor of taking it off? I guarantee by the time we're done, you'll be a
huge
fan.
How the hell he thought he could talk to me like that was beyond me. I couldn't decide if I would've been less upset at him for not recognizing me. No, no, I think this was actually worse. “Tyce might be a dick, but he didn't do anything.”

Chelease looked me up and down with narrowed eyes, straightening the silver necklace around her throat.

“Sure,” she snapped, turning away and disappearing into her room with the slam of a door.
What was that about?
I wondered as I headed back to my own room to finish getting dressed. I had plans tonight, and I wasn't going to let Tyce Winship screw them up for me.

I might've—
might've—
come to this school in part because I thought I might see Tyce again. Maybe. I still wasn't quite ready to admit that to myself yet. But none of that mattered. I still had a scholarship and a life to cultivate, whether he gave a crap about it or not.

I had all of about three outfits in my closet. Not by choice, of course. What girl
doesn't
wish she had a closet full of fabulous? But fabulous requires money and that was something I'd just never had. In the end, I found myself standing outside Chelease's door in desperation. Thankfully she'd taken pity on me and dressed me in a sexy black boyfriend tank and a pair of LuLaRoe leggings that belonged to her sister. Red and pink roses dotted the fabric, a pattern that made me think mercilessly of Tyce's rose tattoos. He had a big, beautiful one on the back of his right hand and several more black and gray ones dotting his right arm.

I almost didn't wear the damn leggings.

“I don't know why you're letting some stupid football dick dictate your actions,” Chelease had said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and giving me a look that promised if I took the leggings off, I'd regret it.

So there I was, standing outside the door to New Intentions, a brand-new club in downtown Eugene, listening to the thumping heartbeat of music from inside and holding my mom's Prada clutch by my side. It'd been a present from Tyce's foster mom, before we'd known the full extent of his story. It was the last gift my mother had ever taken from that bitch. Once, I'd asked her why she'd even kept it.
Girlie-Girl, the wicked don't always get theirs in the end, so if they give you something, liberate it and be glad it ain't theirs no more.

I sighed and pulled out my ID, holding it out to the bouncer and letting him slap me with a bright blue
Under 21
bracelet. Of course, everyone who was actually twenty-one had their own bracelet, but I'd heard from Chelease that there was big money in the club for trading the two around. Whatever. I wasn't here to drink.

I stepped inside to Meghan Trainor's “NO” and made myself smile. The old me, she approached any social situation with a scowl and a series of retorts ready to rapid fire. I reminded myself that I was different now, that even though I still had a core of steel, I could show the world a smile.

I moved through the bumping, writhing bodies of the crowd, surprised to see the place so packed, and found a spot at the counter. I ordered a soda, just so I wouldn't feel out of place when everyone else had drinks in their hands, and settled myself in to people watch for a while.

As usual, the place was packed with people in green and yellow, sporting the giant yellow 'O' that served as a logo for our school and their infamous Pac-12 football team. The décor was a startling contrast to all that color with black-on-black-on-black. Walls, floor and ceiling made an even canvas for the bright burst of bodies twisting and syncing to the music. Overhead, a chandelier dripped in green and yellow crystal. Yet another nod to the team. Otherwise, the place could've been a club from Anywhere, USA. That was okay by me since I was from Nowhere, USA. To some, it might've been boring. To me, it was the best nightlife I'd ever seen in person.

I took a sip of my soda, tucking the blue straw between lips traced in glossy black and splashed with glittery bursts of red. The splatters looked messy and accidental, but they were oh-so-purposeful.

“Those lips are killer!” a girl said as she whisked by, clearly buzzed and enjoying the evening. Still, I basked in the compliment and let her take a selfie with me. “You should come dance,” she said after we'd finished posing together, double duck faces and all. I let her lead me out on the floor, feeding off the wild party vibe that was filling the air.

I wanted a college experience and damn Tyce Winship to hell, I was going to get one.

“Mind if I join you?” a guy said, squeezing in behind me and smiling wide, a pair of drinks in his hand. “Couldn't help but notice the bummer bracelet,” he continued, nodding his chin at me and the bright blue slash on my wrist. I stared back at him, my new friend still twerking next to me while I gazed at the statuesque wall of muscle next to me. “Kai Duran,” he added, introducing himself as I continued to gawk.

The man was as tall as Tyce, maybe even taller, with a sexy scruffy blond goatee and a headful of pale hair. It was slicked back and wonderfully reminiscent of Alexander Skarsgård's character Eric in
True Blood.
This time when I stood there in shocked surprised, I got a gentleman instead of an asshole.

“If you want, I've got a rum and coke with your name on it,” Kai said, holding out the drink. “Or at the very least, a dance.” I kept staring at him, taking in the black Swoosh shirt he was wearing, the dark jeans, the matching Nike sneakers. He had a wide chest and generously sculpted arms, ice blue eyes and a narrow mouth. He made up for that last one with a ridiculously kind smile and a cheerful attitude.

I liked him right away.

“Sorry,” I said after I realized I was still staring. “Teagan Fletcher,” I held out a hand and took the drink from Kai's big hand. “I think I'll say yes to both the drink
and
the dance if you don't mind.”

“Right on,” he said, lifting up his glass for a toast. I clinked our cups together and downed a good half of my drink in one go, letting Kai set them both aside on one of the tall black tables nearby. When he pulled me back onto the dance floor, “Panda” by Desiigner started up and we ended up dancing a hell of a lot closer than I was used to.

The alcohol swept through me, loosening my inhibitions, but it didn't knock me on my ass. When I was fourteen and Tyce was seventeen, right before he skipped out on me, we'd drive all the way out to this crazy secret swim spot and spent the day sipping whiskey. Having a mom who was a (sometimes) alcoholic had introduced me to booze at a young age. I could hold my liquor.

Still, even though Kai offered several more drinks throughout the night, I turned them down, letting my gentle buzz fade away until all I could feel was the heat and the sweat of the club, the crush of so many bodies moving together. Kai and I stuck close throughout the night, even though he was approached by a number of other girls. Clearly, he was a popular guy.

“Good luck at the game on Saturday,” one of them said after last call was made and another round of drinks circulated through the club. I paused for a moment as Kai traded in an empty shot glass for water and downed it all in one go. I seemed to be a magnet for coincidences lately, so …

“The game?” I asked over the wild bass, leaning up on my tiptoes so he could hear me above the murmur of the crowd. “Are you on the team? The football team,” I clarified although I needn't have bothered. During football season, there was only one team anyone really cared about.

Kai grinned nice and wide, his teeth bright white in the swirling darkness and the strobe lights.

“Linebacker for the Oregon Ducks,” he stated proudly, holding out his hand for another shake. “Nice to meet you.” I shook his hand back and returned the friendly smile.
Speaking of coincidences … how random is this?
With the luck I'd been having, of course the first nice guy I met was on the team.

“Do you know Tyce Winship?” I asked. I couldn't resist. Kai's smile slipped a little, and I realized how that probably sounded out of context. “I'm not, like, a fan or anything. I don't even really like football.”

“Well
that's
good to know,” Kai said with a boisterous laugh, nodding his chin towards the door. “Can I give you a ride home?” he asked, and I paused, thinking about the number of drinks he'd had. He should be good to drive.

“That'd be great, thanks,” I told him as we left the club and the cool autumn air pricked my bare arms. “I took a cab over here, but if you don't mind driving me over to the stadium, I'd love a ride.”

“Sure thing,” Kai said, showing me to his car, a swanky new black sedan that must've been a gift from a family member. I knew the guys on the team, although swathed in luxury, didn't actually get paid. “Hop on in.” Kai opened the door for me, still smiling with those warm brown eyes of his.

After he climbed in on the driver's side and we pulled onto the nearly empty street, he brought up Tyce again.

“So how do you know Winship?” he asked, and I could tell from the tentative note in his voice that Tyce probably had a reputation. Based on what I'd already seen from him, I wasn't surprised. I could still see the image of his hand cupping Jia's ass firmly in my mind.
And taste the warm bourbon vanilla flavor of his lips.
He tasted like home and comfort and old memories.

I blinked back the blurry memory of my first kiss. It might've just happened this afternoon, but the moment was so heated and emotional, I could hardly bring it up in my mind. I picked at the red tie on my pink clutch, staring at the painted face of a woman with a butterfly in her hair.

“Tyce and I go way back,” I said, looking over at Kai's rugged viking face. He had a much rougher look than Tyce, just as wild but in a different way, like he was a polar bear and Tyce was a panther. “We grew up together,” I continued, wanting to wipe that knowing look off of Kai's face. If he'd thought I'd slept with Tyce, he was dead wrong.
That
would never happen. “I was just curious about him. He seems different now.”

“Yeah, well, he's kind of an asshole,” Kai laughed, glancing over at me. The streetlights flickered through the window and highlighted the wide bridge of his nose. “And he definitely has a reputation, but he's the best damn QB this school has ever had. He's on his way to a career in the NFL.”

“How long have you known him?” I asked, wondering if Tyce had ever mentioned me. Based on Kai's reaction, I highly doubted it.

“Since he was seventeen. We actually finished up our junior and senior years together at Thurston High. He practically lived in my basement,” Kai joked, pausing at a stoplight and looking over at me again. Something on my face must've given me away because his laughter cooled and he looked serious all of a sudden. “I don't remember him mentioning you before, but it's probably because I'm a dumbass and I wasn't paying attention. I have a habit of missing things.”