Don't Kiss the Quarterback: Billionaire Academy YA Romance Book 5

by Catelyn Meadows

  I snorted. A little. I couldn’t help it. The idea of those two on their hands and knees was all too fitting.

  “And you don’t get to play anymore?” This was the first time I’d attempted talking to Tate face-to-face since he snubbed me in the lunchroom. My nerves were frazzled by the prospect of another rejection, but I persisted.

  “I don’t think it’s a great idea,” Tate admitted. “I asked Coach to let me sit out for the next little while until we can get the hiccups to stop.”

  I didn’t ask what happened if they didn’t. He’d probably take that as he had to. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” I told him.

  We locked eyes, and I read the emotion in his. It swam deep, filling me with something I couldn’t name. Something that secured me to him, that made me aware of whatever made the earth tick. Heart, song, pulse, a push and a pull.

  Dad cleared his throat. “We’d better get going.”

  “I think you two have some catching up to do as well,” Laurel added, hugging Tate.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Tate returned his mom’s embrace. “Steve,” he said, offering Dad his hand. They shook. Dad and Laurel hugged me, and then Tate and I were standing alone in the lobby.

  We both spoke at once, and the words gushed so hard neither of us knew what the other said. I wasn’t even sure what I said. Instead, we both broke into nervous giggles.

  “Want to go outside?” Tate suggested, running a hand through his hair.

  “That would be great.”

  He didn’t take my hand, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for him to. Instead, he opened the door and we headed out toward the gazebo. The fateful gazebo where we’d first met.

  He stared across MLA’s campus and scuffed his shoe along the grass. “This is the tour I should have given you that first day. I should have known how nasty Charly was.”

  “How can you know everything inside a person?” I said, hoping to comfort him. “That’s like...” I wasn’t sure how to get the words out. “That’s like this guy I really liked back in Rexburg.”

  “Was he your boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. He was the first guy to ever pay attention to me, period. I went with it because I liked so much having the feeling of being liked and wanted. But he was always embarrassed around me. He didn’t want to be seen around me. We spent our time at the Winter Formal sitting several seats apart, with my best friend sitting in between us, just so it wouldn’t look like we were dating.”

  “Seriously? What was his problem?”

  “I don’t know. It took me coming here and having...” I didn’t mean for the conversation to take this turn. I wasn’t sure how Tate would respond or if he even liked me anymore. Why did I let my tongue run?

  “Having what?” Tate asked.

  Sunlight glistened on the lake. Kids walked from the buildings, sat on the grass, and one even rode a bicycle along the grounds. Fall was changing the colors of the leaves, and I drank in the scene, injecting courage into my system.

  “Having you treat me the way you did made me realize I could do so much better.”

  Tate hung his head. “I know. I was a jerk that day.”

  I hurried to correct him, gripping his jacket sleeve. “No! That’s not what I meant. I meant...after that. You saw me, Tate. You complimented my singing, you made me comfortable enough around you to sing to you in the first place. You treated me like I was special and important—and you wanted to be seen with me, even when we had all the reasons in the world to hide how we felt about each other. You weren’t ashamed of me, and that meant everything to me. You made me feel like I was...precious.”

  “You are,” Tate said. “I’m sorry I closed off after you told me the truth. I didn’t know what to think. It felt like all my friends, the people who were closest to me, I couldn’t rely on anyone. Now I know what it took for you to tell me what you overheard. Charly is kind of an awful person. She doesn’t hesitate to get revenge—though clearly, she does it through other people. Getting Carson to burn your phone. Getting Ollie to attack me. Why did I ever think I could trust her?”

  I hurried to ease the pain in his tone. “I want you to know, I’ve got your bar, Tate. I’m spotting you now and always. I might have let it slip that day, because I honestly didn’t know what to do, but I’m still holding on tight.”

  He chuckled at my analogy and stroked a hand over my cheek. I went on. I had to get this out. I’d been thinking about telling him these words for days.

  “I know I should have told you what I heard. I should have told Coach Derek so that attack didn’t come out of nowhere. I honestly didn’t have all the information... Anyway. I just, I’m so sorry. Can you please forgive me?”

  “You are precious,” he said, “Can you forgive me?”

  “For what?”

  “Letting my anger get the better of me.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t forgive me for this, though.” He pressed his lips to mine.

  “Never,” I breathed when the kiss ended.

  Epilogue

  Professor Granger said to dress nice for the audition. I intended to look like the stage was built just so I could stand on it.

  My Homecoming dress was perfect for this. Dad had been awesome enough to buy it for me after he heard I got asked. But since Tate and I decided to sit out the dance after his accident, I hadn’t gotten a chance to wear it yet. I heard the dance was epic. Carriages, a drawbridge stretching across a false moat, the ceiling above draped with fabric and glittering with twinkle lights. Jenn told me they even had an ice sculpture of a knight fighting a dragon. Definitely added to the Camelot theme.

  Rehearsing the lyrics to my aria—Italian and all—in my head, I twisted my hair and added flowers in the blonde twists. My teal dress was knee-length with a sparkly bodice and a froofy tulle skirt. The teal Chuck Taylors Dad bought for me matched perfectly. Hair and lip gloss in place, I added one final touch: the bracelet Dad had given me on my first day of school.

  A knock struck my door, sending my pulse to the ceiling. “Go time,” I murmured, wishing I could soothe the butterflies going berserk in my stomach.

  I answered to find Tate looking handsome and suave in jeans and a button-up, plaid, gray shirt. Whatever words he’d been formulating fell right off his tongue. He held his hands palm-up toward me.

  “Bailey, you look gorgeous.”

  Timid heat crept to my cheeks. I dipped my chin. “You look amazing too.”

  “Of course,” he said, offering an arm, “but I’m not as decked out as you. Are you ready for this?”

  The question strung me upside down and inside out, though somehow my feet managed to stay on the floor. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “A whole crowd of people are hanging out outside the auditorium.”

  “Don’t tell me that.” I pressed my arms against my stomach. This was going to be hard enough.

  “Don’t worry,” he said as we turned the corner and headed toward the school’s main building. “Mrs. Granger isn’t letting them all inside.”

  That was a relief. “Did you see Charly there?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t looking for her.”

  His tone shifted at the mere mention of her name. I didn’t blame him. Strangely enough, part of me felt sorry for Charly. She had so much potential for goodness, but she used her brain and her looks to backstab people instead.

  Soon enough, we passed by the administration offices and to the auditorium’s double doors. A sign hung on each, deterring people from entering.

  Professor Patricia Granger’s Laude Feature Auditions Today. Enter only if participating.

  “Enter only if participating,” Tate recited. “That’s us. Or you, anyway.”

  “You mean you can’t come?”

  “Tell them to try and stop me,” he said with a devilish grin.

  I glanced at my phone. “Fifteen minutes until it’s my turn. We’d better go in.”

  Tate reached for the door handle, but I stopped him, gripping
his wrist. He frowned. “Something wrong?”

  Realization was a big pill to swallow, but I took one big, fat gulp. “I would never have been able to do this if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “Well, you and Camryn. She dared me to sing to you that day, did I ever tell you that?”

  This amused him. “No but remind me to thank her.”

  “I have. Several times. I’m just saying...” I wasn’t sure how to say this, so I was glad no one was waiting to get in the auditorium behind us. The door opened, and a few kids walked out, but then we were alone again. “You gave me courage even before that. On the drive home, when you encouraged me to sing in your truck. It sounds weird, but I couldn’t ever sing for just anyone. And when I sang to you, it opened something up inside me. You helped me find courage I never knew I had.”

  Seriously. He had no idea how hard it was for me to admit that much. If he could look inside and watch my heart pound right now, he would be shocked at its tempo.

  “Guess I am pretty amazing,” he teased.

  I punched him in the shoulder. He laughed and caught my fist, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “Okay, okay. Thanks for saying all that. I had no idea. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I think Professor Granger and whoever else is listening aren’t going to know what hit them.” He gave me a quick kiss that packed enough punch to turn me to liquid, and this time I didn’t stop him as he opened the door.

  The auditorium was dim. A recording of an accompaniment with a live beat and a heavy trill of wind instruments swirled through, filling the empty chairs and reaching to the colossal ceiling. Charly stood on the stage, mic in hand. She looked pretty in a white, knee-length dress draping with black lace across half of the bodice and dripping partially along the skirt. She wore tiny black heels, and her curls were a statement, framing her face to perfection.

  Tate grumbled. “We timed that just right, didn’t we?”

  “Shh. Let’s sit here.”

  We sidled into the nearest seats. Several people sat in the front row, center stage. I assumed they were judges, though I also stole a glimpse of Professor Granger sitting in the third row back, pen tipped to her mouth as she gave Charly her full concentration. I had to admit, Charly was good, her voice a tad breathy and high-pitched. Her song ended, and polite applause ensued.

  A pair of students went next. The girl who sang the national anthem the home game after me, and—

  “Ike Masters?” Tate’s breath was hot in my ear. “I didn’t know he sang.”

  “Me neither,” I said. “Who is he?”

  “Defensive tackle,” he whispered as the opening strains of their pop song began. He was a boulder compared to her, towering at least a foot higher and broader, with his muscular, beefy shoulders. Liv didn’t seem to mind at all. Their voices wove together in a way that was both pleasant and compatible.

  Their song ended, and then the kid at the mic announced, “Bailey Monroe.”

  My blood became carbonated, fizzling like a newly opened pop can. Tate squeezed my hand and slid his knees aside so I could shuffle past him, down along the aisle, and to the stage. The stage lights were blinding, making it nearly impossible to see anyone in the audience. Even so, I caught sight of Jenn waving from the narrow row of seats on the side. On the opposite side, Tate nodded his head in encouragement. So much for only those auditioning being allowed to enter.

  Movement captured my attention, and my heart skipped as Dad and Laurel crept from the back exit and shuffled in beside Tate.

  “Miss Monroe,” Professor Granger said. “When you hear your accompaniment start, you may begin.”

  “Thank you,” I said into the mic.

  A thousand thoughts trailed through my mind at that moment. I waited for the fear of performance to paralyze me, for anxiety’s crippling fist to overwhelm my senses. But while nerves still rattled beneath my skin, the desire to run and hide was gone. In a brief, flashing thought, I was calm.

  A month ago I wanted nothing to do with this school. I missed my best friend, my mom, everything. But I glanced out at the audience once more. I had friends here, too. I had family here. Most of all, I felt like I’d found myself here. I could be everything I ever wanted—brave, strong, persistent. Academically smart, yes, but still part of something else too. Part of something that meant more than I ever thought it could.

  I could be part of someone else’s heart.

  There wasn’t full stage lighting, so I was able to make out Tate leaning against the seat in front of him as the swell of my accompaniment overtook the auditorium. Mine was all orchestral, swooping strings in serenade, and delicate shades of color from the woodwinds. Following the cue in the song, I lifted the mic and sang. I lost myself in the beauty of words I couldn’t understand, and I allowed the melody to morph from my lungs and fill the space around me.

  This was so much more than an audition for me. While I hoped I would be selected for Professor Granger’s Laude feature, even if I didn’t make it, I was proud of myself. Proud, grateful, relieved, and so content.

  Before I knew it, the song ended, and applause roared in my ears. The auditorium wasn’t full enough to elicit a response. I knew part of the sound was the rush of relief and the flow of pent-up nerves, but I smiled with everything I had. I bowed like the move belonged to me.

  “Thank you,” I told Professor Granger before the next student was called.

  My small band of supporters shuffled out of the auditorium with me. Soon, I found myself thoroughly hugged. By Jenn, by Mia, by Dad and Laurel. I thanked them for their heartfelt congratulations. Jenn and Mia headed back inside to hear their other friend, leaving me with my family.

  “So proud of you,” Dad said. “The dress looks great.” His hand slid down my arm, lifted my hand, and allowed the heart charm to dangle from the bracelet.

  I shared a wordless look with him before he and Laurel invited us out to dinner.

  “Actually,” Tate said, “we already have plans.”

  Laurel leaned against Dad’s shoulder. “I see how it is.”

  “I’m sure we’ll see you at dinner on Sunday, though,” I added.

  Dad’s brows lifted. “Sounds like a plan. Ready to go?”

  Laurel agreed.

  “Dad,” I said. “Thank you for coming.”

  He smiled and then it was just Tate and me. Jenn and Mia left before I got the chance to talk to them, to thank them for being such great friends. Jenn, especially. She’d been there for me when I needed someone to connect with, and that meant a lot.

  I never thought I’d make another friend like Camryn McCaleb—and who was I kidding? No one could replace Cam. But it meant a lot to know I didn’t have to let her friendship go to make another.

  At the thought of Camryn, I leaned into Tate’s arm around me. “Hey, can you take a selfie of us?”

  “No bonfire this time?” he said.

  “Nope. It’s just that I promised a friend I’d send her a picture of you.”

  “Of me?”

  “I might have told her about you once or twice.”

  “Oh yeah?” He nuzzled in. I didn’t realize he’d taken a shot of his nose dipped against mine until we pulled apart. I grinned, and with our cheeks touching, Tate took another shot. Then he surprised me with a kiss.

  This was...the best.

  “I’m glad we’re documenting this,” I told him.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I never want to forget it.” I made a mental note to send the pictures to Camryn the minute I could.

  Tate’s arms slid around me. “Ready to get out of here? Our reservation is waiting.”

  “You made reservations?”

  “I’m thorough.”

  He guided the way out into the cold, autumn afternoon. I hugged my arms tight around me on our way to his truck. “You know, I never asked you what happened with the scouts at the game.”

  He tossed his head, the
way he used to do before he cut his hair. I thought he was upset, but he slid me a smile. “Yeah, let’s just say I didn’t get the scholarship.”

  “I’m sorry, Tate,” I told him, stopping just outside the passenger door of his truck. He pressed the key fob to unlock the doors and then opened mine. My tulle skirt flurried as I leapt onto the seat. He lingered there, staring up at me instead of closing the door. Sadness crossed his expression for the briefest moment. He really had wanted to play football for a living. He’d been so adamant about it the day we met.

  There was no way he could want it now, though. Not with his heart the way it was.

  He stared at the door a few seconds before closing it and coming to get in on the driver’s side. Inside, he pressed the ignition. Heat blasted from the air vents, and thankfully, this time the volume on his radio was at a decent level.

  “You know, my dad always wanted me to be a brain surgeon.”

  “I remember you mentioning that,” I said, surprised his dad cared anything about what Tate chose to do with his life.

  He sniffed. “I never wanted to do anything he wanted me to. It was a matter of principle.”

  “Understandable. I’m sensing a ‘but’ here, though.”

  He shifted into gear, rested a hand on the back of my seat as if to glance behind, but his gaze stayed right on me. “After being in the hospital the other night, after my surgery as a baby...I’ve been thinking about it a lot the past few days. Those doctors saved my life twice now, Bailey.”

  “I know,” I told him. “I’m glad.”

  “I want to do that. I want to help other people the way they helped me.” Resolution staked a claim in his voice, and his jaw set with the pronouncement. Chills spread down my arms.

  “Are you saying you want to go to medical school after graduation?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said, finally backing out of his parking spot. “I never thought I would. I mean, it’ll take getting my bachelor's degree first, but yeah. I think I really want to become a heart surgeon, not a brain surgeon.”