Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (3 page)

I reached for my duffel bag and purse in the passenger seat and got out of my car. Mr. and Mrs. Rashid, the adorable couple that owned Ike's Hoagies, waved at me cheerfully from inside the sandwich shop. Beaming, I locked my car and returned the wave. It was my first genuine smile of the day.

I made a left on 86
^th
Street and decided to take a shortcut through an alley behind a line of Asian markets. But as I got closer to the opening that led to Fulton, I felt a small, but sharp prick, just slightly to the right of my spine. I skidded to a halt, my shoulders hunching upwards instinctively.

“Don't move, lady. I don't wanna have to hurt you –”

“What –”

“Don't look at me! Just hand over the bag, and –”

“Okay, okay, take it easy, pal.”

I jerked my head back and stared straight ahead, thinking hard. My skin was crawling from his hot breath beating down on the nape of my neck. He sounded young and inexperienced, his words all strung together. That said, he was holding some kind of blade to my back, so I had to keep reminding myself not to make any sudden movements.

“I'm just going to take one step forward and put down my purse –”

“Wait – aw, shit!”

I leaped aside just in time. The kid tripped over his own laces, tumbling forward. As he pushed out his hands to keep himself from face-planting on the floor, a freshly sharpened pencil rolled across the ground, stopping by the tips of my cream pumps. I picked up the pencil, raising my eyebrows. I was almost impressed. The size of the balls on this kid.

“Really?”

The kid looked up at me, his eyes darting back and forth. He sprang off the ground and swatted at my purse, but I saw it coming. I gripped the other end of my purse, clamping the strap under my arm as I pulled away from him.

“Damn it – let go, kid!”

“Ay, yo, Ms. C! And Socks? Is that you, bro?”

My assailant and I paused, turning our heads at the mutually familiar voice. Leonard Thompson, or Thumper, as he liked to be called, moseyed over to us with an oblivious grin on his face. “Socks” let go of my purse, nearly throwing me off balance. He dusted off his red-and-gold LeBron jersey, meeting Thumper halfway.

“It's been a minute, man. How come I ain't see you around at the court lately?”

“I've been real busy – got all those extra classes I gotta make up for before they're gonna let me graduate. And I've been kicking it at the studio with Ms. C –” Thumper looked around at me. “What were y'all doing back here, anyway?”

“Oh, you know, just getting mugged by your lovely friend over here. Socks, is it?” I muttered, returning his pencil. “I think this belongs to you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” The kid pocketed the pencil, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Come on, man.” Thumper crossed his arms, his smile waning. “I thought you said you'd cut this shit out – if I can get my shit together, so can you –”

“Yeah, I know, but this is – this is temporary –”

“What about school?” Thumper pressed him. “I haven't seen you around in a couple of weeks.”

“Dropped out,” Socks replied, averting his gaze. “Money's a little tight –”

“That's fine – you can kick it with us at the studio for now. We'll figure something out.” Thumper slapped a hand on his friend's sagging shoulder. “You're cool with that, right, Ms. C?”

“I don't think Ms. C –”

“Of course.” I nodded, motioning towards the other end of the alley. “Why don't you take Socks to Ike's for a sandwich first? You guys can come in a little later – we're just doing a little freestyle session today.”

“Thanks, Ms. C. Come on.”

Socks looked back at me with a weak smile before dawdling off behind Thumper. But as I turned to leave myself, I stopped again. I rubbed my bare neck, spinning around urgently until I spotted the tiny diamond winking from the dirt and gravel. My heart sank.

I retrieved the pendant along with the 2 pieces of its snapped silver chain and crept out of the alley.

Chapter Three:
Brooklyn

2005

“Damn it! Where is he?” I glanced back to check the clock on the pink bathroom walls. “It's been over an hour – he hasn't answered any of my calls or texts. I'm starting to get worried –”

“Relax, Brooks. I'm sure he'll show up soon. His phone could have died. Or maybe he's stranded somewhere and he's trying to get help. You know what a piece of crap that car is.”

Sighing, I turned back to the mirror, gazing helplessly at Tabitha through our reflection. My best friend adjusted her black collar choker and fluffed out the ruffles of her layered Victorian dress. She would have been a dead ringer for a teenage Wednesday Addams if it weren't for her twin plaits of kinky flaming-red hair.

“I sure hope so. He wouldn't stand me up on prom night, would he?” Even as I said it out loud, I didn't believe it. “Honestly, I don't care if he's not coming at this point. This whole prom thing isn't really his scene, anyway. I just wish he called to give me a heads up –”

“Chill out, Brooks. You're psyching yourself out again.” said Tabitha reassuringly. She unscrewed a studded tube and smeared on another coat of black lipstick. “Let's try to make the most of it. I mean, look at me, I'm not here with anyone, and I'm doing just peachy.”

“You're right.” Forcing a smile, I smoothed out the gauzy chiffon fabric of my seafoam-green gown. I took a step backwards, twisting my body from side to side to make sure no tags were sticking out of the sequined bodice. “Let's get out of here and hit the dance floor before the DJ starts playing the slow jams.”

“Fine, but if he starts playing Chris Brown, I'm out of there,” said Tabitha, pursing her lips.

“What have you got against –”

“Don't even get me started, but for one, his music is god-awfully pedestrian. And I can't quite put my finger on it, but I've always had a bad feeling about the dude.”

“Okay, hater,” I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Come on.”

We fanned away the thick puffs of smoke wafting out from under the stalls and pulled open the door.

A chilly rush of air blew over me from above. Shivering, I stepped away from the overhead vents and swept my eyes across the room. I could hardly hear myself think from the tunes thundering out of the jumping speakers.

Gold and silver streamers were hung from one ceiling light to another. The retracted bleachers gave way to a massive space on the gym floor, which was filled with dozens of fancy chairs and dressed tables with centerpiece bouquets of black and white balloons. A square was sectioned off in front of the stage for the dance floor, which was teeming with my grinding and chest-popping peers.

Tabitha and I squeezed past the handsy couples and found ourselves a spot on the dance floor. My shoulders couldn't help but groove to the killer beat, but I kept my eyes peeled. As I danced, my eyes drifted from the students parading down the red carpet stretching out from the entrance to those waiting in line for their photo-ops with the Hollywood backdrop.

Debbie Mitchell had her boyfriend, Lance Derby, cornered by the punch bowl. Her words were drowned out by the music, but judging by the way she was baring her braces and thrusting her fingers in his chest, it couldn't have been a pleasant conversation. I twirled around smoothly, jiving with Tabitha with my back against hers. Daymond Armstrong, one of the football players, had his tongue down the throat of his date, who wore a short frilly pink dress. As her head swiveled into view, I could tell that the woman had to be at least 5 years older than him.

“Brooklyn! Brooklyn, there you are!”

Whitney Fang, my co-captain on the squad, cut through the group of band girls and danced towards us.

“What's up, Whitney?”

“Okay, so I've been poking around,” Whitney cupped her hands over her mouth, straining her voice over the music. “I'm not, like, a hundred percent on this, but I'm pretty sure you're winning that crown this year!”

“Oh, okay. Cool.” I pressed my lips together in a tight smile, peering around her.

“'Cool'?” Whitney repeated indignantly. Her jaw fell open. “Do you have any idea how many girls in school would kill just to be nominated?”

I didn't need to look back; I could practically feel Tabitha rolling her eyes behind me.

“I mean, it's awesome, but sorry, I'm not really feeling it right now. Ace isn't here yet –”

“What are you talking about? He's right there.” Whitney pointed behind me, furrowing her sperm-shaped eyebrows. “What's he wearing?”

Tabitha and I flicked our heads back. Whitney was right. I recognized the tall, bulky figure in the ratty orange hoodie instantly. My shoulders slumped in relief. I jostled my way through the irritated band girls. Yelling a quick apology over my shoulder, I ran as fast as my chunky silver heels would carry me.

“Thank God!” I flung my arms over his neck. I tackled him with my full weight, but his strong stature didn't budge. “What happened to you? I didn't think you were gonna show up tonight.”

“I told you I was coming.” He lowered his head. I could only see his mouth inside his baggy hood. “Sorry, I'm not more dressed up. I didn't have time to –”

“Doesn't matter,” I lowered my arms and fastened my hands around his waist. “You're here, and that's what's important. Wanna dance? Oh, or should we hit up the photo booth first –”

“You mind if we talk outside?”

“Okay? Sure.”

I followed him out of the gym. The heavy metal doors swung shut behind us, leaving us in the still of the dark, empty hallway. Ace leaned against the locker closest to him and pulled down his hood.

“So what did you wanna...”

My words trailed off when I got a better look at his face. His face was expressionless, but his small brown eyes were dry and bloodshot. I gulped, my chest tightening.

“What's wrong?”

“Brooklyn, I have to go.”

“Go? Go where?” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ears, laughing nervously. “I'm not gonna bite your head off for showing up so late, but don't push your luck –”

“Texas.”

“You're joking, right? You should stick to football – I don't think comedy's really your thing –”

“Brooklyn, listen to me. Don't make this harder than it already is.”

My lips clamped shut at the unnerving crack in his gruff voice.

“I've been talking to Dad all night, and I've come to realize how important this scholarship really is. I didn't think I could ever afford to go to college – everyone in my family – my grandfather, my dad, my cousins – they all went to work right after high school, and now some school's down to offer me a scholarship. Not just any school, too –”

“Duh, I know.” The smile on my face was starting to hurt. “I was with you when you opened the letter, remember? So what –”

“I'm leaving tonight,” said Ace softly. He reached for my hands, rubbing my clammy fingers. “I'm sorry. I would have told you if I'd known, but my dad sprang it on me a couple hours ago. He's sending me over to stay with my Uncle Jeff.”

“Tonight?” I squeaked, my breath lodging in my throat. “What –”

“My flight leaves in 2 hours.”

“2 hours? But that means –”

“I have to leave right now,” Ace finished my sentence. As I gawked at him, stunned tears quietly streaming down my cheeks, he let go of my hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flat black box. “Sorry, I know this is 2 weeks late, but happy birthday.”

He popped the lid open. I blinked my blurry vision away, sniffing. A small teardrop-shaped diamond with a silver chain sat on the velvet lining. He took the necklace out and handed me the box, walking behind me.

“I've been working at Wally's Auto Repair the last couple of months – that's where I've been going off to after practice.” He placed the necklace around my neck and locked the hook over the spring ring, his warm fingers tickling my neck. “I know it's not much, but –”

“I love it,” I choked out. “It's beautiful.”

“Good. I'm glad.”

“Ace, please,” I clutched his arm, my chest heaving. “But you said we still had the whole summer together. You can't just leave me like this – please, I just need a little more time –”

There was this stabbing feeling in my chest. It was like I'd forgotten how to breathe. But Ace pulled me close to him and held me tight. He knew it was all I needed.

I sunk into his chest, pressing my cheek into the worn cotton of his hoodie. As he drew circles on my back with his fingers, I squeezed him with all the force I could muster. I inhaled deeply, doing my best to memorize the smell of his minty deodorant and the feeling of his strong arms around me. Maybe if I just held on tight enough, I could keep him here with me...

“I'm – I'm gonna miss you.”

Ace lifted my chin. He pressed his mouth against mine and kissed me in a way he had never kissed me before. There was no tongue, but the kiss was deep and tender. His soft lips caressed mine, moving to sweet music that wasn't there. It was then that I understood what it meant to be kissed for the last time.