Win Big:A Bad Boy Sports Romance(16)

What could I say to that? My department head basically told me that what I wanted and how Evan treated me didn't matter as much, because I hadn't been after my goals all my life. And because my goals weren't as important as getting to the NFL. I may have been listening to him politely, but I was in no way calm under that façade.

He must have figured out how unsettled I was, because he added, "I'm not saying you have to roll over and play dead if he's driving you up the wall. Draw the line, within reason. Just know it's not personal. It's not, because he tries to cross the line with everyone."

Yeah, except I was pretty sure he hadn't subjected Dr. Jeffries to Dahlia gets a Double Whammy or whatever that porn movie was called.

Or a smoldering, panty-melting kiss.

"I trust you'll do an excellent job. It's also great practice for when you're on a pro team. You'll see a lot of this-athletes afraid of breaking their contracts because they're injured, behavioral issues, depression, that sort of thing."

"I'll do my best."



After the day I'd had, all I wanted was a long bath and a glass of wine. Or maybe a bottle. I hastily reminded myself I'd have to settle for a shower because the dorms didn't have bath tubs, and a beer because Kristy and I had finished off the only bottle of wine we had in our room. I was just about to leave the athletic training center building for some quiet time when I saw Nick jogging across the hall toward me.

"Hey, Sam!"

I pasted on a smile and told myself not to be irritated because of that kiss earlier in the week. He meant well, even if he did take it too far. What the hell was it with guys kissing me this week, anyway?

"Hey, yourself."

"How are things going?"

I didn't have to pretend to be tired. I was exhausted, and Nick of all people would be able to tell from a mile away. "I'm all right."

"Are you okay? No offense, but you look like you were hit by a train."

"Good, because that's exactly how I feel. Anyway, don't start. I'm tired as ever, and you know when I get tired I get-"

"Whiny?"

"I was actually going to say bitchy." He smiled. "I'm sure that's what you were thinking. So how's the soccer team gig working out?"

"Pretty good, but that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

"No? Why then?"

"Come to dinner with me."

I looked away, not sure I had the energy to deal with this again. "Nick, we just had that talk when you kissed me, and I felt horrible after having to tell you to lay off. Can we just not go there again?"

"We won't. I promise. It's just dinner … as friends … and no monkey business. Come on, you could use a good meal."

"I don't feel like going out. You know Jeffries took me off the baseball team, right?"

"Yes, I know," he admitted, looking crestfallen. "I heard about it today. It sucks ass … which is why I need to cheer you up. Think of it as a peace offering, and a pick-me-up for you after what must have been a crappy day. What do you say?"

Those big brown eyes of his won me over. "Okay. It'll be nice to have some civilized conversation for a change. You're on. Bayou Bar-B-Q at seven?"

"Deal. I'll pick you up." I thought he might do a somersault when he jogged away. It was nice to see him in a better mood than last time. I just hoped he meant it when he said we were going out as friends.

                       
       
           



       

"To you." Nick raised a beer in my direction.

"What for?"

"For putting up with three creeps in one school year, myself included."

"And who are the other two? Austin for sure, and … ?"

He grimaced. "That prick, Evan Marshall."

"Cheers then," I laughed out, clinking the rim of my wine glass to the neck of his beer before taking a sip.

"I'm still sorry, but I've apologized to you about fourteen times already, so I'll leave it at that."

"Don't worry. You're forgiven … as long as you behave."

"I will. Scout's honor."

"Thanks. Hey, do you know Evan personally?"

"Only by reputation, and because he's on the football team. He's bad news."

"I got up close and personal with that side of him already. Right from day one of this crap assignment."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

"Well if it's any consolation, it's only temporary."

"Thank God for that."

"What's his issue, anyway?"

"He's an asshole."

"Yeah, no I meant what's the injury?"

"Grade two groin sprain."

"Wow. That's … interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"You can count on Evan Marshall to exploit that for sure."

My shoulders slumped. "He's already started."

He looked at me sideways. "He's already tried to get in your pants, hasn't he?"

I couldn't tell him about the kiss. "No, nothing that direct, but Evan is a jerk. Even Dr. Jeffries told me to ‘take one for the team', so to speak."

"Okay let's change the subject before I end up having a word with the dickhead. You're way too nice to deserve that from somebody like him."

"Awww, thanks." I took another sip of my wine, happy that we were moving on from this topic. Nick was the wrong guy to tell about Evan and his antics.

I took in a relieved lungful of air when my bar-b-q sampler and fried mushrooms came out. Nick's plate was piled high with two large racks of ribs.

"Gosh, it all looks so good. I needed this. Thanks for convincing me to come out." Taking a piece of my favorite St. Louis styled ribs, I took a bite. I closed my eyes and moaned as the taste hit my mouth. It was like heaven.

"That's why going to dinner with you is always a blast. I may actually enjoy the sound of you eating more than anything on my plate … and trust me, I love ribs."

That was a good reminder to keep my orgasmic moaning to a minimum while I was with him. I'd save it for my nights out with Kristy or one of my other girlfriends. We could embarrass the heck out of ourselves with the happy noises we made.

"Tell me more about how things are going with the soccer crew," I said, glad the energy between us was lighter now.

I listened while he told me all about the team members he worked with, their strengths, how hard his athletes trained for every game. This was why I valued our friendship. We had so much in common, career-wise, and I enjoyed spending time with him. I felt no chemistry between us, but that was the point of my wanting to keep our connection alive. Nick was even-keeled, smart, funny, and although he wanted to sleep with me, that wasn't only thing on his mind when we hung out.

Evan was the opposite. Aggressive bordering on brutish, loud and annoying, demanding, and he only had two things on his mind-football and women.

No.

Football and sex.

Which was why I disliked the way he'd excited me without trying to. I wanted to scold myself for thinking about him, for letting him kiss me. I could punish my traitorous body for responding to his wild, rough, overpowering nature, for the storm of emotions and sensations that overwhelmed my body and mind because of him. Like right now, because in only a few moments of thinking about him, I didn't know whether it was just me or the room suddenly got hotter.

"Are you all right?" Nick asked. "You look a little flushed."

"Oh, I'm fine," I said, waving it off. "It's the wine … going to my head."

"Maybe you should take a pass on the fourth glass," he said with a chuckle. "I don't want you fainting or anything."

"You're probably right. My plate's pretty much done too. I should head home."

"Me too." The look he gave me made brought back all my guilt about not being into him. Our lives would be so much easier if I were into him … or if he were dating someone else.

After we finished up, I went outside to get some fresh air while Nick took care of the bill. He came out and put an arm around my shoulders. "Feeling better?"                       
       
           



       

"Not really. It's going to be another long day tomorrow."

"Let's get you home."

It was a short ride, thank God, and he let me off without getting too sentimental. I waved as he drove off, already picturing myself stretching out on my bed and sleeping for ten hours straight. Except Austin was at the front door of the dorm when I got there.

Awww hell.

I sure hoped he was here because he'd dropped off a date or something.

"There you are, Sam. I just came from upstairs. I was looking for you."

Well, shoot me.

"What's up, Austin? Why are you here?"

"We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Us."

I was not doing this right now. Not again. I pressed my lips together, swallowing the decidedly sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Uh, that won't be possible. There's no ‘us', Austin. Anyway it's late. You should go now."

It seemed that as far as Austin Grant was concerned, it wasn't late enough yet. When I touched the handle on the door, he stopped me.