Read Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance Online
Authors: Christina Clark
“Brooklyn, will you marry me?”
I blinked at the gorgeous vintage band sitting on the bed of the open box. An oval diamond was perched in the center of the ring, and the band studded with tiny sapphires. Ace looked up at me, the crease between his brows deepening with every second of my stunned silence.
“I, uh, got the ring from my Dad this morning. It was my grandma's –”
“Yes.”
“What?” Ace's ears perked up, a grin spreading on his face.
“Yes, I'll marry you!”
As soon as Ace slipped the ring onto my finger, I pounced on him, knocking him off his feet. I fell on top of him, smashing my lips onto his in a fit of unbridled emotion. When we surfaced for air, Ace gazed up at me, caressing my cheek.
“I'll leave the date setting to you. I'm down for any –”
“Why don't we do it now?”
XXX
“
These are the moments, I thank God that I'm alive,
These are the moments, I'll remember all my life.
I found all I've waited for,
And I could not ask for more...
”
Music crackled from the portable speakers on the sidelines, filling the small clearing of the park. The beautiful harmony of Tabitha and Maria's voices rang through the open air. The sky was starting to dim at this point, but everything looked just right.
As I approached the white satin sheet stretched out on the grass before me, I could almost hear the blood rushing to my face. On one side of me, Aiden, Thumper, and 3 other kids who could make it last minute sat in foldable chairs. The row of foldable chairs set up on the opposite end of the aisle was filled by Mr. Warner and my parents.
Though Dad looked back at me with a small, contrite smile on his face, Mom was staring straight ahead, her nose and chin jutted at an uncomfortable angle. My plain white sundress, the small guest list, the rented wedding officiant. It was a far cry from the glamorous princess-style wedding at a French chateau she had always wanted for me. And so, as I paced down the aisle, she pointedly cocked her head away from me. I had to admit, the rush of triumph and satisfaction that washed over me added an extra spring to my step.
Holding my daisy bouquet proudly, I joined Ace under the arch of 2 willow trees. As I faced the officiant, I snuck a peek at Ace. His hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and his usually wild beard tamed with a comb. Seeing his strong, handsome profile standing right next to me was indescribable. I couldn't believe this was it.
As the officiant hunched over his phone, apologizing profusely as he tapped away at the frozen screen, I could hear Mom grumbling loudly behind me.
“Psst.” Ace reached inside his bulky jacket, handing me a thin leather box.
“You got me something else? What –”
When I opened the box and tipped it onto my hand, the rest of my words never made it out of me. A 1990 Boomer Esiason score card in a sealed packet slipped onto my palm. Before I could say anything, Ace reached into his jacket once more and piled 2 boxes of Milk Duds onto my hands.
“You were right, Brooklyn. You win.”
The End?
Bonus Book 1
Miles Away
2005
Chapter One: Miles
“
Shake it, shake it. Shake it. Feel good. Shake it, shake it. Shake it. Feel good.
”
“Yo Big Rob, turn that beat up.”
Big Rob reached over from the passenger's seat and pumped up the volume full-blast. The brim of his white bucket hat bobbed with his head to the killer bass. The surround-sound system I had installed yesterday was definitely worth it. I winded down the windows, sharing the Gorillaz' sick tune with the cars lined up around me at the stoplight.
“My jam,” said Big Rob as he leaned back in his seat. “I've been playing this song nonstop on my iPod since it came out.”
“Same, dude. Same.”
Big Rob's real name was Robert Jones, but I've only ever heard the teachers at school address him by his full name. Even his parents called him “Big Rob.” In fact, they were the ones who started calling him that in the first place. According to Mrs. Jones, he was a whopping 11 lbs when he was born. His birth even made it to the local papers in South Warren, Michigan.
We met in the 6
th
grade. With our mutual love of
Pokemon
and
Age of Empires
, we hit it off right away. He used to be this chubby, awkward kid, which made him a prime target for bullies and snotty girls. But when middle school ended, everything changed for the dude. Over the summer, he committed to this intense workout routine and started hitting the gym nonstop, working out 4 to 5 hours at a time.
By the time we got into
Stonewall
Academy
, he was unrecognizable. All his baby fat was gone – the dude busted out a 6-pack you could cut a New York Strip off of. The guys at school never gave him shit again, and even the babes from junior year were making googly eyes at him. So, it was safe to say life had been pretty sweet for him the last three years. He made it to the varsity football team in sophomore year. Now, just a few months away from graduation, he was the captain of the football team, and probably the best quarterback
Stonewall's
seen in years. Let's put it this way – the girls in school now call him “Big Rob” for different reasons.
“Oh. My. God. This has got to be the longest stoplight in all of Manhattan. How is that light still red?!”
I felt a sharp jab on the back of my seat. I jerked my head to the backseat with a raised eyebrow. Allison Prescott withdrew her leg, groaning. She was slumped halfway off her seat, with her seatbelt the only thing keeping her off the carpet.
“Pull yourself together, Kicky.” I blinked at her matching tracksuit. “If you want, I can let you off here, and you can jog the rest of the way to school. I mean, you're already dressed for the occasion.”
“Excuse you – I'll have you know, I saw Paris Hilton wearing the exact same ensemble on this month's issue of
People
magazine,” Allison defended herself. She smoothed her ridiculous jacket, which bared half her stomach and her gold belly ring. “You guys just
had
to stop at
Lenny's Drive-Thru
, didn't you?”
“We're growing boys. We need our meat,” Big Rob chimed in between mouthfuls. He unwrapped his third pork barbecue burger and went to town on it. “And quit hating. You got yourself a cheeseburger and a strawberry shake.”
“Seriously, guys. I can't be late this week – not when we're so close to our last midterms.”
“Relax,” I grinned, giving her a thumbs-up in the rearview mirror. “We'll get there before the bell rings. I know a shortcut.”
“Nope – absolutely not! The last time we went on one of your 'shortcuts', we ended up in the parking lot of some shady strip club. You guys were in there for nearly an hour before you even bothered to show up to class. Thank God I was able to get a ride with Brady.”
“Oh, yeah.” My smile stretched even wider as I exchanged looks with Big Rob. “Good times, good times. I don't think the ladies were even onstage anymore. Pretty sure they were packing up and ready to leave.”
“We raided that buffet though. Their fried shrimp tempura was the bomb.”
“Of course,” said Allison sarcastically, sitting up straight in her seat. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. “Why am I not surprised?”
Big Rob and I were tight, and we go back, but Allison and I go
way
back. We've known each other since we were 3, when Ma met Allison's mom at
Central Park
and arranged a play date. We grew up together, so we were practically family. I don't think I could think of a time when she wasn't around. We did everything together – played
Little League
, raced our bikes down hills, and I may or may not have allowed her to put her mom's makeup on me on more than one occasion. We met Big Rob later on, and the three of us have been joined at the hip since.
The only thing that ever annoyed me about my friendship with Allison was that she was an unintentional cockblock. We were constantly mistaken for a couple, which lagged a few of my progresses with girls. Don't get me wrong, Allison was pretty, I guess. She had long, bright red hair, and her makeup was always perfect. She was also a straight-A student, and on the volleyball squad, so she was in good shape. Every guy at school wanted a piece of her. And because most of the dudes at
Stonewall
were assholes, naturally, Big Rob and I were protective of her. Which of course, made it seem like I wanted her to myself. But in reality, just the thought of kissing her or even holding her hand was enough to bring the steak burger I just had back up my throat.
“Finally!” Allison threw up her hands. She leaned over and punched me on the arm. “Go, go, go!”
I revved the twin-turbo engines of my
Saleen S7
and peeled down the street. Relieved, a chipper Allison joined Big Rob as he rapped along to De La Soul's verse. I cruised down Black Shade Boulevard and made a left turn into the back lot of a grocery store.
As promised, I pulled up to the black wrought iron gates of
Stonewall
Academy
with 12 minutes to spare. Big Rob and I draped our arms out our windows, slapping the outstretched hands of the guys from the football team. As I started driving to my reserved spot, Big Rob jabbed his thumb out his window.
“What the hell's going on over there?”
I parked my car and yanked my keys out the ignition. A mob of kids crowded around the front steps of the school entrance. The crowd started growing as more confused kids got caught up behind the human traffic jam. The three of us got out of my car, crossing the grass and fountain to check out the scene.
“N–not. N-not f-funny. Give it b–back, ass–asshole.”
“What you gonna do about it, Special Needs?”
One kid had another kid backed up against the wall, holding a pair of crutches sideways against the defenseless kid's neck. I didn't recognize the thug, but knew that he was a fellow senior. He was a skinny dude with a shaved head, wearing a baggy muscle shirt that showed off his scrawny, weak-ass arms. There was a wet stain running down the thug's shirt. A crushed can of
AriZona
iced tea lay a few feet away from them. The other kid was Derek Suresh, a sophomore with cerebral palsy. I could see Derek's twitching worsening under pressure.
“Oh my gosh.” Allison clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head.
“Ay. Let go of him, man,” Big Rob called out angrily.
Derek slanted his head to the side, turning away from the thug's face. He threw out his arm and swatted for his crutches. Derek missed, his hand brushing against the thug's thigh. The thug jumped back, snarling loudly as he spat on the kid's face.
“Don't touch me, fag.”
“Really?” I muttered under my breath in disbelief as I looked around me.
Everyone was just watching, lingering on the sidelines as they whispered and pointed. I reached over and nudged my way between the two kids in front of me, starting towards the crowd. But before I was even halfway through the crowd, a girl pushed her way through first, beating me to the punch.
“Hey, douchebag! Back the fuck off.”
I paused in my tracks, hanging back. The corners of my lips curved downward as I watched her, nodding. This chick clearly had it covered. She pulled the strap of her shoulder bag over her head, dropping it along with the books and the purple notebook in her arms. The thug looked over his shoulder, his jaw slacking as the girl snatched the crutches out of his grasp.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
The girl was standing with her back to the crowd, but her fury was transparent. She handed the crutches back to Derek, helping him into the forearm cuffs. She turned back to the thug, her shoulders rising. Her curly, deep brown hair bounced as she schooled him.
Big Rob and Allison squeezed through the crowd, stopping on either side of me.
“Who's the badass chick?” I whispered to Allison.
“Really, Miles?” said Allison incredulously, rolling her eyes. “What, just 'cause she doesn't walk around school with her titties hanging out all over the place, you don't know her? She's been with us since freshman year. That's Daisy Clarke.”
“Nope,” I shrugged, hearing crickets in my head. “No bells ringing here.”
“She's in the Honors Society, and I think she writes for the school paper. Don't think I've ever seen her without her purple notebook – she's always writing in that thing. We say hi to each other in the hallways, but I don't really know her. Seems like a sweet girl, though.”