by E. M. Moore
At the Buzzer
The Ballers of Rockport High
Book Three
By
E. M. Moore
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by E. M. Moore. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact E. M. Moore at [email protected].
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition July 2019
Contents
Also By E. M. Moore
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
About the Author
The Rockstars of Hollywood Hill Series
Safe Haven Academy Series
Safe Haven Academy Series Blurb
Also By E. M. Moore
Ravana Clan Vampires Series
Chosen By Darkness
Into the Darkness
Falling For Darkness
Surrender To Darkness
Ravana Clan Legacy Series
A New Genesis
Tracking Fate
Cursed Gift
Veiled History
Fractured Vision
Chosen Destiny
Order of the Akasha Series
Stripped (Prequel)
Summoned By Magic
Tempted By Magic
Ravished By Magic
Indulged By Magic
Enraged By Magic
Her Alien Scouts Series
Kain Encounters
Kain Seduction
Rise of the Morphings Series
Of Blood and Twisted Roots
Safe Haven Academy Series
A Sky So Dark
A Dawn So Quiet
Chronicles of Cas Series
Reawakened
Hidden
Power
Severed
Rogue
The Adams’ Witch Series
Bound In Blood
Cursed In Love
Witchy Librarian Cozy Mystery Series
Wicked Witchcraft
One Wicked Sister
Wicked Cool
Wicked Wiccans
1
I see red.
I know it’s just a figure of speech, and that I shouldn’t actually see a haze of red in front of me and nothing else. But no, for me, it’s actually more than that. Whenever I hear the snapping of my bone from Lake’s careless, brunt force, my peripheral vision tinges in a crimson, blood red color. My body explodes in surges of heat when I pull up his satisfied, smirking face, or God forbid, if anyone dares to speak his name, I start to shake with the hatred filling me. My skin tingles and sparks like the crackling of fire, and I want nothing more than to cease his very existence.
I want him gone.
He’s tried to take everything from me. First, my Ballers. Then, my career. I don’t know how far he’ll go just because he doesn’t like me. Or because he doesn’t want me on his basketball team. Or because he doesn’t want me taking his spot from him.
Or maybe it’s because he sees red when he sees me…
I now understand the way he looked at me with so much hatred in the bar that night when I tried to help him…because I feel the same. He better not ever come close to me again. I will lose my fucking shit.
The only thing is, I might not even have to worry about Lake coming around anymore. Hayes, Ryan, Sloan, and Alec are all mine now, and they’re not going to let that snake get to me.
Glancing up, I look straight into Hayes’s dazzling blue eyes. His brows are pulled together as he carefully avoids my cast and squeezes my other hand in his. Behind him, Sloan is waiting not so patiently for his turn to greet me, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Judging by how fast they made it through my house to where I’m waiting in the pool area, they probably sprinted just to see who would get to me first.
“Any news?” Hayes asks.
I love him for his concern. Before Lake broke my wrist, I would lift my right hand to trace it over Hayes’s sharp cheekbones. Now, I have to lift my left hand because my right is just too awkward. “It was just another batch of x-rays to send to the doctor in L.A,” I tell them. I don’t know anything more than I did a couple of weeks ago, but my heart clenches that their worry for me matches what I’m feeling on the inside. I wish I knew. I want to know everything now.
I’ve had the purple cast on for two weeks. After Dad, Mom, and I flew to Los Angeles straight from camp, we saw the sports doctor my dad was able to get us into. They poked and prodded, we hemmed and hawed over details. Bottom line, I told them I wanted to play this season. Because of that, the fancy doctor set the break, and then put me in this cast. How well my wrist heals will determine when I come out of the cast and hopefully rehab in time for tryouts.
It’ll be pushing it—and that’s if everything heals the way it should.
When Hayes just blinks at me, I say, “The imaging place has to send it to the doctor in L.A. before they can tell me if it’s healing properly.” My dad doesn’t even ask for the opinions of the doctors and techs here. He wants to hear it straight from the doc in L.A.
Sloan moves closer. He about hip checks Hayes out of the way before dropping a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”
I smile up at him. The kiss he pressed into my scalp sends warm tingles over me, fighting back the near constant anger hovering just under the surface. I let it fill me up, so that by the time my mother’s footsteps sound in the doorway, I actually feel the smile I’m portraying on the outside.
My mother’s steps stop just at the entrance to the sunroom. “Thank God for you boys. She doesn’t ever smile when you guys aren’t here.”
I know she’s saying it to tease, but it’s also the truth. Neither one of us have been feeling very happy lately. I’m miserable, and she’s worried. We aren’t making the best pair at all.
Hayes steps back, taking the lounger next to me now that my mom’s here. We try to keep the extent of our involvement with one another to a minimum in front of parents and other outsiders. I have enough on my plate. I really don’t want to have to explain to my mother that I like four guys. That I’m actively involved with all of them, and that I don’t plan on giving any of them up any time soon. Or ever.
I’m banking on ever.
“Glad we could help, Mrs. D,” Sloan says.
I’m pretty sure my mother swoons over Sloan. She hides it well, but her cheeks pink a little when he talks, especially
when he says things like “Mrs. D.” His charm oozes out of him without restraint and can be overwhelming at times. I think if she had her way, I’d be Mrs. Sloan Ivy when I grow up.
Sloan sends me a quick wink, and now I’m the one who’s blushing. If it weren’t for the damn cast, I’d be asking him for a repeat of our skinny-dipping venture. I mean, the pool is right there. It would be so easy to recreate what happened between us. Another type of heat engulfs me, and I look away before my mother guesses it. She knows I had sex with my ex-boyfriend, but I don’t need to be forthcoming enough to tell her that I’d love to jump into bed with my Ballers. All of them. Now that I can let myself feel everything that I tried to hold back in case things didn’t work out again, I swear I’m constantly trying to wrangle my hormones.
I’m pretty sure the guys know it, too.
I can say one thing. My hormones are a great distraction from everything else that’s going on.
My mother’s gaze roams over my body. She checks me over now on a daily basis, like I should be ensconced in bubble wrap and cellophane. Her stare lingers on my purple cast, and her face pinches slightly. I won the argument about returning to Rockport High. Honestly, I think she just felt too sorry for me to argue about it anymore. It didn’t even take that much begging for her to concede. When I look at her while she’s evaluating me, I’m almost positive she thinks I won’t be able to play this year, and that’s why she was swayed so easily. If I ask her, she won’t admit it. She tells me I’ll be ready. She tells me she has every faith in me that I’ll overcome this.
Her words feel nice. They’re exactly what they should be. In the moment, I bask in them, but then there are times like this when I wonder if she really thinks that at all. If she’s just glad for the guys because of the distraction it gives me from what’s really going on.
Because what’s really going on is that I have no idea if I’ll be ready to try out in six weeks, much less play up to par when the season actually starts.
“Now, where are you guys going tonight?” Mom asks, a quirk of her eyebrow after she confirms to herself that I’m still here, and that for the moment, I’m not in any immediate danger of losing my shit.
Sloan speaks up right away. “To Alec’s baseball game. We’ll bring her home after.”
She nods like she hasn’t heard me tell her this exact same thing a few times now. “Take care of her.”
“Of course,” Hayes says.
My mother’s gaze darts to Hayes. He barely ever speaks, so when he does, she always looks surprised. But there’s one thing he’s not messing around with anymore, and that’s to make sure that I’m okay. I’m pretty sure that if a plane was in danger of crashing into the house at this very second, he’d throw his body over mine in an attempt to make sure nothing happened to me. I think it’s guilt for not stopping Lake. I hope it’s not. It’s no one’s fault but the psychos.
She places her hands on her hips, her motherly gaze sweeping over all of us. “Okay then. Good.” She turns her eyes on me. “Keep your phone on you. I know it’s hard for you to text like a pro right now, but one-word answers are fine just to let me know that you’re okay.”
“If you want, Mrs. D., you can take my number. That way you can text me if you want to know what’s going on.”
My stare runs up the length of Sloan, starting with his cargo shorts, his trim waist, and then the collared shirt that hugs his body in just the perfect way. Almost like it was tailored just for him, and honestly, that could be the case. The senator’s son has to keep up appearances no matter what.
My mother actually takes him up on that. I gawk as they retreat to the other room for my mom to grab her cell phone. My jaw unhinges when they continue to have a pleasant conversation, and I really want to ask Sloan what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Does my mom really need his cell phone number?
“He’s going for brownie points,” Hayes says. The sound of his voice drifts over me like a caress.
I turn toward him. “You think?” I’m half bitterness, half sarcastic. I don’t even know what I want to be right now.
A smile teases his lips. He checks the archway, and when he finds it clear, he moves next to me on the lounger. “It’s his evil plan to get your mom to trust us with you more often.”
Oh. Well, damn. “That’s actually genius,” I admit.
My mom has been hovering lately, but it’s not her fault. She’s worried about me. More for my mental state than for my broken wrist. She knows what not playing ball this year will do to me.
I reach out to turn Hayes’s hand over. There’s no sign of the split knuckles he had after he punched Lake for the second time because of what he did to me. I never did ask how badly he hurt him, or even if the other guys joined in on it. In fact, I’ve tried not to talk about Lake at all even though he’s a constant stream of consciousness in my head. Every time I feel pain in my wrist or happen to see the bright purple of my cast, I’m reminded of what he did to me. I just can’t help it.
My mother knows Lake did it, but she thinks it was a terrible accident. My father, who was there, still contends that it could have been an accident. Ryan, Sloan, Hayes, Alec and I know better. We let my mom think that, and I even let my dad star in his own fantasy world over it, because…well, so what that he meant to do it? We can’t prove it. Besides, I’d rather get him back in a way that doesn’t involve denied accusations. I want to get him back where it hurts most: basketball. That was what he wanted to take from me, so it’s only fair that I return the favor. Only, I’m actually going to take him out of commission. He should’ve kept going if he wanted me gone completely.
That was his mistake.
Hayes’s arm slips around me. He presses his fingertips into my side, and I snuggle into him, pressing my head onto his chest. His long fingers thread through my hair until I relax at his touch. We don’t even hear my mom and Sloan anymore, and that’s okay. I love being in a Hayes bubble. Despite his quick temper, he’s been nothing but a sweet, gentle giant to me. “How have you been feeling lately?” he asks.
I smile into his shirt. “You just asked me that this morning over text.”
With just the right amount of pressure, his fingers run down my scalp. “That was this morning. And then you had to get your x-rays. I know you don’t like thinking about what happened.”
I stare at the purple cast on my lap. “It’s hard to get away from it.” Especially with the reminder attached to me.
His hand rises to my chin. He lifts, moving my head up to gaze into my eyes. As soon as our eyes meet, it’s like I forget how to breathe. My breath hitches, and I blink at him until I’m subconsciously wetting my lips in preparation for what’s about to come.
Slowly, he eases forward. Everything else in the room might as well not even be there because it’s just Hayes and I in this moment. I meet him in the middle, pressing my lips to his, searching for his protectiveness to fill me up. He kisses like he’s attempting to free himself from his silent cage. What he doesn’t say in words, he says with his lips and his hands. Gently pulling me to his lap, he crushes his mouth to mine, deepening the kiss. His hands move up my back and then down and over my thighs. He weaves my leg through to the other side of him until I’m straddling his hips, then smooths his hand up my spine before pulling me close, arching his hips at the same time.
“Oh God,” I groan as soon as we make contact. I’m going to change Hayes’s nickname from Ice Man to the Big D. It’s so not fair how I react to him. To all of them, actually. But since I’m in the Hayes bubble right now, I wrap my good hand around his neck and deepen the kiss, spurring him on.
“This isn’t good,” he murmurs in between fierce kisses. “Your mom.”
“You started it,” I tell him, raking my teeth over his bottom lip. I don’t know if I’m testing him or me or both of us. I want to see if Ice Man will break. What will it take to get him to want to throw me on the lounger and undo my jeans? To spread my legs and thrust inside? I’m obviously intensely curio
us about what he’ll feel like inside me. “Damnit,” I groan, shifting my hips closer to him, trying to eke out every feeling I can. It’s been getting more and more like this every time I see one of them now. One or all of us is about to cave in a big way.
He rolls his hips into mine, and I drop my head back. He kisses my neck moving lower to the hollow of my throat. I moan, throwing my heavy cast over his shoulder now too.
“Well, well,” Sloan says from behind us, his voice laced in arousal.
Hayes stops moving. He pulls away from me, even though I’m still perched on his lap with my head back. I open my eyes to find Sloan has moved closer. He reaches out to run his hands over my scalp and then down my hair. From my vantage point, he’s practically upside down, but the look in his hazel eyes is unmistakable.
He’s turned on, and he’s not one to keep it quiet either. “Fuck me. I’m kind of shocked at how hard I am right now. Maybe I’m into watching.”