Forgetting the Rules: A Second-Chance-Romance Sports Standalone

by Mariah Dietz

  “Tell me you’re not the vomiting type of drunk.”

  Hoyt stops singing and starts laughing again. “Captain gets sick before every game. He’s totally going to blow chunks.”

  I cringe. “Okay. Paxton, sit down in the grass, head down. Start counting or something. I think I have some water in my trunk, and maybe a blanket. What happened to your shirt?”

  Paxton looks down and seems surprised to find his shirt missing. Hoyt laughs and begins singing even louder.

  “Hoyt, I need you to shut up. If you keep singing, someone’s going to hear and pull out their phone, and then we’re all going to be on the damn rumor site.”

  Hoyt stumbles, nearly falling before his butt connects with the backseat of my car. I’m pretty sure he hit his head or maybe his elbow, but before I can check, he closes the door and locks it, then starts singing even louder than he was.

  I blow out a long breath and go around to my trunk. I have four bottles of water and a blanket. I grab it all and move to sit beside Paxton. I crack open one of the water bottles. “Here. Drink this.”

  He takes it and gets only a couple of drinks in before he leans over and throws up.

  Fucking feelings.

  Fucking emotions.

  Fucking attachments.

  17

  Ian

  My headlights hit Rose’s car, and I pull to a stop, not giving a single shit that I’m double-parked. I hop out of my truck and see Rose stand from where she’s sitting on the ground. She looks tired, annoyed, and a bit relieved. She also looks disheveled and wet. Her white shirt is soaked and see-through, exposing a black bra, and her dark hair is damp. She dusts off her backside but remains standing beside the blanket that’s next to her, covering someone.

  “Is he okay?” I ask before I even ask which asshole it is.

  “I think so. He threw up, which is probably for the best.” She pushes some of her dark hair behind one ear. “I tried to wake him up to make him get in my car, but he’s dead weight at the moment.”

  I nod as I go to peer under the blanket and see Pax.

  Fuck.

  “You said Hoyt’s here, too?”

  Rose quirks a brow and takes a few steps toward her car, where she taps on the back window with a single knuckle. Broken lyrics are belted out off-key. “He’s not in a very helpful state.”

  I move beside her, catching a strong whiff of beer. On the short drive over here, questions were plaguing my mind. Why were they here? Why were they here with Rose? Why didn’t she call me sooner? Why didn’t they? Shit has been blowing up in our faces, and they’re loading the damn ammunition by being here.

  I try to open the back door, but it’s locked.

  “Yeah, he…” she points and then drops her hand and shakes her head.

  I lean down. “Hoyt, unlock the fucking door.”

  Hoyt hits the button, and I open the door while still leaning down, so I’m face to face with him. He stops singing instantly, blinking as the light overhead shines down on him. He pulls his head back and winces. “What’s up, Cap?”

  “I need you to sober the fuck up and help me get Pax into the car.”

  He grunts and slowly scoots forward and stands. I reach forward to brace him. “We might have overdone it,” he says.

  “You think?” I ask. “Can you manage to lift his legs without face diving onto the cement?”

  “He puked,” Hoyt announces. “Don’t step in it.”

  I rub the back of my neck, seeing the evidence. “We should get him into my truck. That way, if he pukes again…”

  Hoyt starts to nod, but he stumbles and narrowly manages to catch himself on the hood of Rose’s car.

  “There’s no way he’s going to be able to help you,” Rose says. “I can help you get Paxton in my car, but I won’t be able to lift him into your truck.”

  My eyes cut to her. “I’ll have your car detailed if he throws up again.”

  “Pretty sure that shows over,” she says, moving to pull off the blanket. Pax is on his side, arms folded over his bare chest.

  I bend down and shake him. His only response is a soft grunt.

  “If you can grab his legs, I’ll get his shoulders.”

  Rose nods and bends to grab his legs, her shirt dipping, revealing a clear shot of her chest. She rights herself and tries to smooth the fabric, but with the weight of it from being damp, it’s useless, and she gives up. “Paxton’s date threw a beer on me,” she says. “Apparently, he only knows how to date Candaces.”

  I wince, but my apologies are still behind a boulder of questions.

  “Boobies!” Hoyt yells as she starts to lift Paxton’s legs.

  Rose rolls her eyes but doesn’t comment as we carry Paxton to the side of her car. She repositions him, supporting both of his legs with one of her arms as she opens the front passenger door.

  “You’ve got some muscles,” I say.

  “Yoga,” she says, glancing from Paxton to the car with silent questions.

  “You can set him down. I’ve got him,” I tell her. She was right. He’s dead weight at this point, all two-hundred-and-thirty-five pounds of him. I heft him into the seat and nearly regret I didn’t hit his head on the top of the car because I have a feeling my back is going to remember this tomorrow, and it only seems fair his head should as well.

  “What are we going to do with them?” Rose asks.

  “I’ll call Lincoln and make sure he’s home. He’s going to kick their asses.”

  “Bobby’s still inside,” she reminds me as she folds up the blanket and sets it in her trunk. She looks at me when I don’t respond.

  “I’m not liking my current options,” I share.

  “You don’t have any options,” she tells me. “You need to go find him.”

  “Leaving these two assholes could lead to Hoyt wandering. And I really don’t like the idea of…”

  “Will you get over thinking I want to have sex with Hoyt?” Her green eyes meet mine, fueled by anger and offense.

  “I’m not worried about you wanting to have sex with him. I’m worried he wants to have sex with you.”

  Her brows pinch together, and then she looks over her shoulder at Hoyt, who’s still lying across the hood of her car. She looks back at me. “I have a better chance of being barfed on than hit on. Help me get Hoyt into the backseat, and I’ll babysit these morons while you go find Bobby.” She turns to Hoyt before I can respond.

  “Tell me you can walk,” she says.

  “I can walk,” Hoyt responds, his voice muffled as he remains still.

  “Come on, asshole,” I say, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to his feet. “Is Bobby still here?”

  “Hot blonde asked him to be her first.” Hoyt cackles.

  I open the back door, and he slumps into the backseat. I have to physically lift his feet into the car before closing the door. I’m about to suggest to Rose that she lock the car and go inside with me, but her phone rings before I can.

  “Hey.” She pauses. “Yeah, I just needed to get some air.” She pulls her hair back with her fingers and nods. “I know. It’s hot in there.” She nods a few more times. “I’m glad you guys hit it off.” Another pause. “No, I’m not mad at all. I don’t know him.” Another pause. “I have to be up early in the morning, so I’m probably going to head out soon. I’ll come and say goodbye.” She hangs up and turns to face me, releasing her hair in one wave that falls sinfully over her face.

  I reach forward and brush the strands aside. It isn’t a thought, just a need to touch her. But Rose takes a wide step back and slowly shakes her head.

  “Don’t you get it?” she asks. “This is hard enough on me. I’ll go get Bobby. You watch your idiot friends.” She grabs her jacket that Hoyt was using as a pillow, and as she walks away, she threads her arms through it and pulls it tight to cover herself.

  I scrub a hand across my face and lean back against her car. Hard for her? What in the fuck is so hard?

  From the back seat o
f the car, Hoyt starts singing again.

  I mutter a train of curses and reach for my phone to call Lincoln.

  “Hey, Forrest,” he says.

  “I’ve got your roommate and two other assholes.”

  “Tell me they didn’t…”

  “Oh, they did. Paxton is so drunk he can’t talk or walk, and Hoyt won’t stop singing. Bobby is yet to be seen.”

  “Mother fuckers,” Lincoln growls. “They can’t be saved from themselves.”

  “Are you home? Can I drop them off? I can’t bring them back home with me now that my parents are back.”

  “Yeah, Raegan and I just got here.”

  “Okay. We’ll be there soon.”

  My thoughts are more restless now than they were on my way over as Rose’s words and silent accusations curse me.

  Hard on her? What the fuck is so hard for her? Being around me?

  Before my thoughts and anger can continue down their merry little path, I hear Bobby’s distinct laughter.

  “He didn’t really blow chunks, did he?” Bobby asks as he and Rose step into view.

  “You guys can’t do this,” Rose tells him. “Not now. Wait a few months until football is over and people aren’t watching you under a magnifying glass, then you can do whatever in the hell you want. Tonight was stupid.”

  “I didn’t know they both had a drinking problem. After Pax went all Deadpool on his cell phone, I figured he needed a night out to breathe.”

  They stop in front of me. “Hey, Cap,” Bobby says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Sorry about this.”

  I shake my head. “Did you drive?”

  He shakes his head. “We took an Uber.”

  “Are you sober?”

  He nods. “I only had water.” He takes a second to look at Hoyt and Paxton. “I can ride with Rose and help carry them inside. Are we taking them home?”

  “We’ll drop them off at Paxton and Lincoln’s.”

  Bobby barks with laughter. “President’s probably going to spray them with the garden hose.”

  “They deserve it,” I say.

  “You won’t be able to fit in the back. Why don’t you ride with Forrest? He can take you home. I can help Lincoln get them out,” Rose says, going around to the driver’s side of her car.

  “Yeah … that’s not … going to happen…” Bobby says quietly.

  “Damn right, it’s not going to happen,” I say. “Bobby, get in the truck.”

  “That sounds like a better idea,” he says in the same soft tone before turning and heading toward my truck.

  “So, you’re just going to be mad at me and avoid me going forward?” I ask, circling around the front of her car.

  Rose’s green eyes narrow, another silent stare.

  “I knew you had cold feet and this entire set of absurd and asinine rules, but I didn’t realize one fucking kiss was going to break all those rules and make you treat me like I’m some fucking stranger.”

  “Stranger?” she cries. She lifts both hands and buries them into her hair. “How do you not see it? You’re the only one who doesn’t already know that you’ve gotten into my head. You’ve crawled under my skin, and it’s like I can’t get you out, and I hate it. I hate that I compare some guy’s laugh to yours. I hate that I compare some guy’s smile to yours. I hate that you look angry when I make an objectifying comment about myself, unlike every other asshole who laughs. I kissed you, and I know it was chicken shit for me to turn around and leave, but why couldn’t you have stopped me? If you have feelings for Isla, you should have stopped me from kissing you.”

  My heart beats so loud and fierce I can’t hear my own thoughts over Rose telling me I’m under her skin and in her head.

  About fucking time.

  But that last part has thrown me for one-eighty. “Feelings for Isla?”

  “I saw you,” she says. “I saw you and Isla kissing.”

  I shake my head. “No. That was nothing.”

  She sears me with another glare. “Rule two: never get involved with a guy who’s seeing other people. It leads to confusion and betrayal.” She reaches for her door handle, and I set my hand on it so she can’t wrench it open.

  “This isn’t a conversation to have out here. Let’s drop them off and then we can go to your place or my place and get all of this out.”

  “I’m done talking. If you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to forget about you.”

  “Well, I’m done letting you.” I place my hand on her hip, feeling a gentle shiver run over her skin. “Isla kissed me because she misread the situation. I don’t—I’ve never—had feelings for her. Maybe I could in a world where I hadn’t met you. If you hadn’t already ruined me.”

  Rose gasps gently, her eyes sweeping mine. “What?”

  “You scare the hell out of me. Just the sight of you makes me nervous because I never thought I could feel so much for one person. It’s like your existence alone defies all logic and reason. And I am so damn tired of fighting to stay away from you and respect your damn rules because I’m afraid if I do, it will push you further away. I’m done. I’m here, and I’m going to invade every boundary you’ve set, and in the end, I’m going to prove I’m good for you. I’m right for you.” Before she can argue, I lean in and claim her lips. I know it catches her off guard by the way she clutches me for balance. I don’t give her time to collect herself.

  Kissing her outside while my drunken teammates sit in her car while her shirt is soaked from rescuing them was not what I’d planned, but it doesn’t stop me from continuing. Her lips are so damn soft and smooth, lacking the same assault and aggression from our last kiss. I take another step, closing the gap between us.

  I run my hand across her neck and thread my fingers into the back of her hair, brushing the pad of my thumb across her jaw. She releases another quiet gasp that I feel far deeper than my lips, feeding me everything I’ve been starved for. I slip my tongue into her mouth, and her hands fist in my T-shirt as she runs her tongue along the length of mine. I groan, my other hand gripping her hip tighter, searching for a break in her shirt so I can feel her skin.

  Rose hums softly in response as my fingers slide along her waist, and she leans into me fully, her teeth grazing my bottom lip as our caresses become more frantic and desperate. I pull away, ready to drown in the rumors that would follow sleeping with her right here and now because after waiting several months, there’s nothing else I want except her. I pull in a ragged breath and lean my forehead against hers.

  “You have one week,” I tell her.

  She pulls away, her eyes wild and bright and hungry. “One week until what?”

  “To accept that we’re dating.” I slip my index finger into her belt loop and tug her hips against mine. “One week to finally realize you’re mine.”

  Sparks of fear light in her eyes, and for the first time, I’m not afraid of getting burned—I’m terrified of remaining frozen on the outskirts. I’ll gladly learn to feed and tame the flames.

  I lean down and sweep my lips against hers. “Follow me. I’ll drop Bobby off, and then we’ll take them to Lincoln’s.”

  She looks dazed, that edge of panic still present in her bright gaze. “Okay,” she finally says.

  I start to take a step back so I can grab her door and open it for her, but Rose’s hands clench my shirt, and she leans forward, kissing me with a level of urgency and desire that my own body translates and responds to instantly.

  A fist hits the window behind us. “Hey! Hey!” Hoyt yells. “She’s mine!”

  A sly grin tugs at her lips as she takes a step back.

  “See?” I say, flipping Hoyt off.

  She flashes a smile. “What am I seeing?”

  “Us,” I tell her.

  Her smile widens. “I’ll follow you.” She opens her door and slides into her seat.

  I poke my head down so I can see Hoyt. “Don’t make me kill you.”

  He moves to the seat behind Paxton and salutes me. I gently close R
ose’s door and then circle back to my truck.

  Bobby is sporting a full shit-eating grin as I climb into my seat. “You can’t be too pissed at us after that,” he says, then release a loud cheer.

  Rose

  Ian kissed me.

  He likes me.

  He’s liked me this entire time.

  “You and Cap,” Hoyt says from the backseat. “I knew he liked you. He tried to talk a tough game, but whenever you were around, he became this uptight pain in the ass.”

  My cheeks ache from the smile that’s been plastered across my face since getting into the car, and somehow his assurance only makes my smile widen.

  “But if he fucks things up, I’ll be here,” he says.

  Ahead of me, Ian turns on his turn signal as we stop at a light, and I glance in my rearview mirror, catching sight of Hoyt with his eyes closed, his neck at an awkward angle that makes me cringe.

  I follow Ian to Bobby’s and then to Paxton and Lincoln’s house. I’ve been here a couple of dozen times. After all, Arlo lives here as well, along with their roommate Caleb who’s on the porch with Lincoln and Raegan as we pull up.

  “How bad is it?” Lincoln asks Ian as they both approach my car.

  “If he hadn’t puked, I’d be suggesting we bring him to the hospital,” Ian says.

  “Shit,” Lincoln says.

  Their voices are quiet, and I realize it’s likely for Raegan because as she comes closer, they stop talking.

  “Is he going to be able to play tomorrow?” Raegan asks, folding her arms over her chest and peeking into the car where the lights are still on from my door being open.

  Ian looks at Lincoln.

  “I don’t know if he should,” Lincoln says. “He broke his own damn rules and got drunk and broke curfew.”

  Raegan blows out a long breath. “He needs an intervention.”

  Lincoln moves closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side. He places a gentle kiss to her temple. “He has to make that decision for himself,” he tells her. “All we can do is keep trying to be here for him. He has to choose to stop.”

  She sighs. “What if he doesn’t?”