No way. No gawking.
Four
Andre
Okay, fine. Maybe Wyatt’s instructions to “look out for Kendall and make sure she’s not getting into any trouble” didn’t exactly call for the dubbing of the secret room, and it definitely didn’t call for the hot, dirty, very forbidden attraction I felt for Kendall while we were in that little pocket of isolation.
It doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna act on it. I can’t act on it.
I shake my shoulders and shift my focus back to the only thing that’s ever been real and consistent and permanent. Football.
“Drive!” Coach Nelson, the Riders defensive coordinator, yells with a sharp blow of his whistle.
I dig my cleats into the dirt and charge as hard and fast as I can, following the cones.
Seven seconds. Seven fucking seconds. I force my mind to laser-focus and get my three-cone drill under seven seconds. Sweat drips down the back of my neck as I move my feet as quickly as I can. The sun blazes the field and the sky and the air.
“Seven-point-one, Smoke!” Nelson bellows. “Run it back. One more.”
Goddammit.
I wipe my forehead and jog back to the beginning of the drill line. We’ve been at this for hours; final preseason Riders practices don’t fuck around.
I blow out an angry breath and clench my fists, bouncing on the balls of my feet and waiting for the whistle.
It screams, and I drive hard through the cones. Why do I keep seeing flashes of blond hair and that cute little laugh? The way she straightens things that are already straight and the way that’s so damn adorable for some reason.
Why do I keep feeling a weird, low sense of guilt, like I betrayed Wyatt, when I haven’t even done shit wrong? She’s hot. I’m human. That’s all there is to it.
“Six-point-eight! Get your ass out of here.”
Fuck yes.
“Thanks, Coach.” I offer him a fist bump as I jog past him and toward the locker room, where I can see some of the other guys piling in.
“Three more days, boys.” Quarterback Chase Kennedy yanks off his helmet and shakes out his hair, smacking the other guys’ backs and hyping everyone up.
“Hell yeah.” Leo Sterling, wide receiver, pounds his chest. “It’s game day season!”
I head into the locker room and pull off my practice jersey, savoring the blast of ice-cold air conditioning.
Chase and kicker Dylan Rivera both walk past me, and Dylan smacks my arm. “Hey, bro. You ready for Sunday?”
I lift my shoulders and puff out my chest. “I was born ready. We got one hell of a team here. Creaming the Falcons will be easy money.”
“Let’s go,” Chase says through gritted teeth. “That’s what I like to hear. I smell a fucking Super Bowl ring.”
Dylan raises his hands. “Hey, man, chill with that shit. You’re gonna jinx it.”
“Jinx it?” Chase gives a massive eye roll. “You’ve been spending too much time with that fiancée of yours.”
I chuckle and chime in, remembering when Dylan popped the question to his cute, pink-haired girlfriend on the beach right after I only just met my future teammates. “That was one hell of a proposal. You guys doing good?” I ask with a smile.
“Oh yeah.” Dylan runs a hand through his brown hair and opens his locker. “So good. Melody’s got all kinds of plans for the wedding. It’s gonna be an absolute trip.”
“Wedding season.” Chase shakes his head and sighs. “Almost as lit as football season.”
I laugh. “Riders do it big, I’ve noticed.”
“Bigger is always better.” Chase slams his locker shut and warrants a groan from Dylan.
“Dude.” A younger-looking player rushes up to us, sweaty blond hair falling in his face. He has a death grip on the iPhone in his hand. “I got problems.” He hands the phone to Chase and lets him study whatever’s on the screen.
I glance at him, and he nods and gives a big smile. “What’s up, man? I don’t think we’ve actually met. I’m Matt McKenzie, quarterback.”
Chase shoots him a dagger of a look.
“Backup quarterback,” Matt corrects reluctantly.
“What’s good, Matt?” I bump his fist. “Andre.”
“Yeah,” he says on a sarcastic laugh. “I, uh, I know. We were all so stoked about the trade.”
“Hell yeah,” I say. “It’s the life down here. I’m beyond hyped for the season.”
He narrows his eyes at Chase in a teasing glare. “Maybe I’ll get to see some playing time.”
Chase snorts without looking up from Matt’s phone. “Fat chance. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well?” Matt gestures at the phone. “She wants the D, for sure. Gimme a good line.”
Chase casually flips the phone back to Matt and takes a swig of Gatorade. “You don’t need a pickup line. You’re Matt Fucking McKenzie. Just say that.”
“Oh yeah, chicks dig an arrogant prick,” I add.
Dylan looks at me and rolls his eyes. “Worked for Kennedy, until he married the one and only girl who didn’t fall for his bullshit.”
Chase gives a cheesy grin and shrugs.
I untie the laces of my cleats and shake my head at their conversation.
Matt beats a fist on his chest and high-fives Chase. “Let’s ride.”
“You’re QB2 of the South Florida Riders.” Chase smacks his arm. “Any chick would be so damn lucky. You’re the man. Keep that attitude.” He lightly punches Matt’s jaw. “Chin up.”
Matt gives another fist pump before heading back to his locker. “Hell yeah.”
Dylan sits on the bench next to me and leans over. “McKenzie is like Chase Kennedy’s protégé. On and off the field. Chase used to get like an insane amount of ass, but now he’s all wifed-up with his best friend from, like, forever. So, Matt’s like his little brother. Mentee sort of thing.”
I run a hand through my sweaty hair and give Chase a look. “How adorable.”
“Hey, man.” Chase holds up a hand. “Someone’s gotta carry on the quarterback legacy. It’s up to Junior over there to keep the QB playboy reputation alive.” He turns to me. “What about you, Smoke? You’re like the biggest deal on the team right now. Other than me. You got a girl?”
I’ve got a…best friend’s sister who I need to stop thinking about. “Nah. I’m all into my game right now.”
“I respect that, man.” He reaches his fist out, and I bump it lightly.
All into my game. I just need to focus on this team and this season and football in general. Kendall can renovate the house with all her plans and ideas and those damn tight jeans. I’ll look out for her for Wyatt’s sake.
My mind rushes back to the secret room. It’s so damn quiet and private and…hot. Being in there alone with her was like being in a place where nothing and no one else existed.
And when that particular situation happens again, it’s gonna be a real fucking test of self-control.
Five
Kendall
My mind is buzzing, and my heart is racing, and excitement is surging through the air as I pull up to one of our current projects, a house flip on Deerwood Avenue. As soon as the car is parked, I pull out my phone and read the email for the hundredth time.
Congratulations! Your application for Collins Renovation & Design to participate in HGTV’s Mansion in a Month feature has been approved. Your listed entry is the Esplanade House in North Miami Beach. One of our representatives will be calling with details later today.
I do one more happy dance in my car before swinging the door open and rushing onto the work site to tell Desta and Jackson the amazing news.
“There you are.” Desta walks out the front door of the house, which is still in the demolition phase. “You would not believe the morning we’ve had. Jackson found termites in the basement. Total hot mess. Those little assholes are feasting on the wood. So we called Ron, and he’s on his way over now, but—”
“Desta.” I place my hands on her sho
ulders and steady her, unable to contain the wide smile pulling at my cheeks. “We’re in.”
“We’re in?” she whispers softly, barely audible, as her giant brown eyes widen, and wheels start turning in her mind. “We’re in?” A little louder this time.
I nod with certainty.
“We got The Esplanade House? We got approved for HGTV? We—?”
“Yes!” I cut her off, and a bubble of joy and laughter rise in my chest. “Yes, yes, yes. We’re doing this.”
She squeals and jumps, then looks down and holds her little baby bump, as if she’s telling her son/daughter-to-be the exciting news. “We’re in!” she repeats.
We jump and hug and celebrate some more, and I try to ignore the mess that is the termite-ridden house behind us.
“Honey,” Jackson calls as he walks out the front door, a sledgehammer in one hand and the other holding a phone to his ear. “I got Ron on the phone. He wants to know how bad the—”
“We got Mansion in a Month!” Desta blurts, holding her arms out and rushing over to Jackson for a hug.
“No shit,” he says through shock and laughter, glancing at me. “You’re serious?”
“It’s happening.” I lift a shoulder and smile.
“Get your little ass over here!” Desta orders me, opening one arm wide and gesturing for me to join their embrace. “Group hug!”
I laugh and jog over to them, squeezing my two best friends and their baby-to-be with all the love and warmth and happiness I can imagine.
“Well, we’ll have to celebrate more later.” Jackson pulls away. “As exciting as this is, I have to deal with the wood-munching menaces on this project.” He points his thumb at the work in progress behind him.
“Of course, of course. Ron will handle it,” I assure him, fixing my hair as he heads back inside.
“So, little missy.” Desta playfully twirls the strand of my hair I just fixed. Just to irritate me. “Didn’t take you very long to nail down The Esplanade House, now did it?” She lifts a thin, black brow and gives me a knowing look.
“No.” I swallow and lift a hand to shield my eyes from the sun. “It was a pretty easy close.”
“Mm-hmm. And are we sure that no feminine wiles were used in the closing of this particular deal?”
“Oh, would you stop?” I roll my eyes and wave off her comment.
“Okay, okay. I’m just saying.” She lowers her voice and leans close. “They call him Smoke for a reason.” She nudges me with her elbow.
“They call him Smoke because that’s his name.”
“Why do you so fervently refuse to admit that he’s hot? Even Jackson admitted he’s hot,” she insists.
“He did?”
“Well, he did that typical guy thing, where they get all gruff and nonchalant and say, ‘Yeah, I mean, he’s a pretty good-looking dude, I guess.’” Desta’s man-imitation voice makes me laugh.
“Okay, so what?”
She narrows her eyes as if she’s on to something. “He’s a freaking NFL star whose body looks like a Greek god’s. ‘NFL star’ is an understatement. I am the furthest thing from a sports fan, and I know his name. And you refuse to even acknowledge that, just because he’s Wyatt’s friend? I mean, I get that you’ve known him for, like, ever. But still. You’re not blind.”
Blind? To Andre Smoke’s palpable sex appeal and soul-melting charm? God, I wish I was.
“Fine.” I lift my arms defensively. “He’s attractive. But he’s my brother’s best friend. And more importantly, he’s a client.”
“I smell something.” Desta wrinkles her nose and gets close to me.
“Oh please.”
“You’re hiding something, Collins.” She leans back and crosses her arms, resting them on her pregnant belly.
“I am not hiding anything. Now can we please get back to work on this house?”
“Do you honestly think that I, your best friend since we were dorm roommates freshman year of college, can’t tell when you’ve got a secret? Honestly, I’m surprised there are any left that I don’t know about.”
I puff out a sigh. I never got into the whole Andre story with Desta, or anyone for that matter, because it’s so painfully embarrassing and kind of just sucks to think about. “We’ll talk about it later.”
She gasps and clutches her hand to her chest. “So there is dirt?”
I hold up my finger and my thumb. “Little bit,” I whisper.
She looks at me with eager excitement sparkling in her brown eyes. “Super quick?”
“Fine,” I say on a laugh, walking with her around the side of the house so I can at least check up on the progress on the back deck while I dump out my most cringeworthy story.
“All ears,” she sings.
“Like you said, he’s hot. He’s gorgeous. I mean…he’s Smoke. He’s basically a celebrity now. But even before that, he was…Smoke.”
“Of course.” Desta fans herself jokingly.
“So, I had to grow up with him almost constantly at my house, in my basement, playing football in my front yard. He and Wyatt were inseparable, especially in high school.”
“Which put you at about…”
“Thirteen,” I say. “That sweet year where boy obsession, hormones, and just a hint of PMS-induced drama all collide into a beautiful, holy terror of a mess.”
Desta chuckles. “Ah. I remember it well. So you were, like, totally crushing on him, I take it? You’re human and all.”
“Madly, insanely, painfully crushing.” I shake my head and look down at the patchy grass of the backyard. “Des. He never wore a shirt.”
Desta cackles. “Can you blame him?”
“No. I couldn’t speak around him. Couldn’t form anything that even sort of resembled a coherent sentence. Whenever Wyatt said he was coming over, I had so many butterflies I’d get dizzy.”
“Did he know you were so crazy about him?” she asks.
I wave a hand. “I was a middle schooler. Braces, glasses, pimples…elbows-deep in the ugly stage. He was a varsity football star, state champion, record-breaking, NFL-bound from the time he was fifteen. He had only a very minute awareness of my existence.”
Desta stops and turns to me, squinting in the sun and adjusting her short hair. “I don’t get the embarrassment in this anecdote. You had a crush on your brother’s best friend? I think the whole female population of America has a crush on him, too.”
I swallow hard and take a mental note of the deck railing, reminding myself to change it for a darker wood. “There’s more.” I prepare to relive the story I can’t remember when or even if I’ve ever said out loud. Desta’s my best friend. Here goes nothing. “There was this summer while he was in college. He come home from LSU for a few weeks while Wyatt was home, too. They both had just found out for sure that they were gonna get drafted, so there was a lot of hype. A lot of celebrating.”
“Oh.” Desta waits for me to continue.
“I had just turned eighteen, finally felt my first real sense of confidence.” I look skyward, remembering the way my skin was clear, my hair was shiny, my body was mature. “It was…” I bite my lip. “The night I really wanted him to notice me. As way more than Wyatt’s little sister. And…” A bittersweet smile pulls at my cheeks. “He did.”
“He did?” She brightens. “I’m still failing to see the horror.”
“We must have talked for hours. It was all I’d ever wanted since I knew how to want. I literally felt like I was flying. We walked down to the lake in the backyard and…kissed.”
Desta gives me an eager squeeze of both shoulders. “And?”
“We kissed a lot. We started making out and…” I glance at the ground and kick some dirt off of my work boot. “It was amazing. We got to, like, second base, to put it in teenage terms. But then he just…”
“He what?” She whispers the question dramatically.
“He pulled away and looked at me for a long time. I, of course, was waiting for a ‘where have you been all these
years?’ Or a ‘how have I never noticed you?’ Or, my personal favorite, a ‘I think I’m in love with you.’” I heave a deep sigh and shut my eyes. “But I got a ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry.’”
“Oh shit.” Desta wrinkles her nose. “That hurts, love. Do you think it’s because you’re Wyatt’s sister? Maybe it was, like, a bro code thing.”
I lift a shoulder. “I’ve toyed with every imaginable possibility of how he could be so into me one second and then just…change his mind. I guess it has to do with my brother, and him not wanting to breach some sort of dude agreement that you don’t mess around with each other’s sisters. Or maybe I just wasn’t good enough. He was already a college star at that point, probably had the hottest sorority girls in existence falling at his feet.”
“No.” She waves a hand in my face. “None of that talk. I’m sure it was out of respect for your brother.”
I purse my lips. “I guess. That night, I…” I look into her warm and loving and nonjudgmental eyes. “I wanted him to be my first.”
Desta looks at me. “But you’re still a…”
“Yes,” I whisper, holding up a hand and preventing her from finishing that painful sentence. Yes, I’m still a virgin. “It’s like that night…” I notice a worker from our team in our vicinity and pull Desta farther into the backyard, lowering my voice. “That night, I was so ready. So sure about him and the deed and the moment. I felt like it would be perfect. And I want my first time to be perfect.”
“You deserve that.” She places a loving hand on my arm. “And it’s completely okay that you haven’t found a man who would be perfect to sleep with ever since…college.”
“Yeah.” I swat yet another painful story from my past out of existence. I know instantly what Desta is referring to. Not college as a whole, but rather the only other time I’ve come close to losing my virginity, which proved to be a much worse experience than the one with Andre.
“After that train wreck our freshman fall”—I nod at her—“which you remember better than anybody, I swore I’d wait for perfection.” The reality of the words that just slipped from my mouth sends me into a spiral of panic and surprise.
Rough Ride Page 4