Out of Bounds: A Sports Romance (Soulmates Series Book 5)

by Hazel Kelly

  But even more than his accent, his bravado, and his bullshit pocket squares, I hated the fact that he was dating Rosie Bennet.

  It’s not that I was jealous. I didn’t care who she dated. I just didn’t want it to be him. She was too good for him in every way a person could be too good for another. She was kind and funny and smart and beautiful, and he was…none of those things.

  Well, maybe he was smart. He must’ve been, because she wasn’t one for suffering fools. But it pissed me off that that was enough for her, that someone as smarmy and contrived as Ali Ramsey could gain her affection by quoting the right books.

  It disgusted me. He disgusted me.

  And knowing that he was winning her shy smiles made me feel farther away from her than ever.

  He had no idea how lucky he was that he hadn’t shown up a year ago, before I’d promised my mom and my coach that I wouldn’t get in any more fights. Back then, I would’ve gotten great pleasure out of rearranging his crooked British teeth.

  I pulled my football jacket around my shoulders and went to find some more beer as I was far enough past the point of responsible drinking that taking a break wouldn’t even have occurred to me. Much to my disappointment, there wasn’t a single can left in the cardboard boxes stuffed in the fridge. However, in a surprising moment of drunken insight, I decided to check if there was an extra fridge in the garage.

  Of course, the last thing I expected was to find Rosie leaning against said fridge, trying to use a lighter to break into a bottle.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked, suddenly aware of my slurring as I shut the door to the blaring pop music behind me.

  “Not drinking,” she said, slightly breathless as she pushed her glasses up her nose.

  “Can I help you with that?” I asked, walking down the cement steps to where she was standing.

  “I doubt it,” she said, handing me her Smirnoff Ice. “But you’re welcome to try.” She held the lighter out.

  I opened the bottle with my hand and gave it back to her. “Those are usually twist offs.”

  “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s nice in here,” I said, looking around. “I wish my life were as organized as this garage.”

  She laughed.

  I smiled at her, relieved that she thought I was joking. “Are you guarding the fridge or—?”

  “No.” She stepped back. “Sorry.”

  I opened it, searching each shelf until my eyes came to rest on a six-pack of Stella, which I would’ve bet anything belonged to the man behind the garage. I slid one from the shelf and swung the door closed. “Can I get that lighter?”

  Rosie watched as I popped the cap off and let it roll across the floor.

  “God,” she muttered, bending over to pick it up before shoving it in her pocket. “That’s the kind of thing that gets people busted, ya know?”

  “You must be joking. There’s a fort made of shower curtains in the dining room.”

  She shook her head. “Why can’t people have some respect?”

  “Why can’t you have some fun?”

  “I can have fun without destroying other people’s property.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t bash it till you’ve tried it.”

  “Not interested.”

  “So what are you interested in?” I asked, taking a sip of beer. “Besides losers with accents.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What are you interested in?”

  “I heard that part,” she said, stepping so close to me I might’ve been able to count the freckles on her nose if I could actually focus on anything. “What was it that you said after that?”

  I leaned into her personal space. “I asked what you’re into.”

  She stepped back until the fridge stopped her.

  I planted a hand over her shoulder. “Because I find it hard to believe that what you really want is some guy who’s only interested in reading to you.” My eyes dropped to her lips.

  She pressed them together but didn’t move.

  “You’re too good for him, Rosie. He’s a clown.”

  “And what do you think you are?” she asked, sliding away and stepping up a stair towards the door.

  “That’s irrelevant. You can do better.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t even know him.”

  “I know he’s not going to stick around. I know that no matter how hard he falls for you, he’s going to leave.”

  “That’s my business, Luke.”

  “I know that you’re just a fling for him. You’re just a character in a story he’ll tell when he fucks off back to England.”

  “Maybe that’s all he is to me,” she said. “Did you think of that?”

  My face dropped. That actually hadn’t occurred to me. But maybe Rosie wasn’t as vulnerable as I’d assumed. Maybe Alistair was the one getting played. I admit I found the idea strangely comforting.

  She cocked her head. “Why do you even care anyway?”

  I glanced at her Smirnoff Ice and wondered if it would make her lips taste like candy.

  “Seriously, Luke. What the hell is it to you?”

  I wanted to tell her, but the words wouldn’t come. How could I ask her to pick me without looking jealous? How could I ask her to prom without looking crazy? How could I tell her anything I was feeling without giving away how drunk I was?

  Besides, she’d just laugh in my face again, except this time I’d deserve it.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said.

  And then she opened the door and went back in the house, leaving me with a half-drunk Stella and a pile of unsaid words that I feared might fester inside me forever.

  T W E N T Y E I G H T

  - Luke -

  The flowers were too much. I should’ve played it cooler. But I didn’t feel cool. I felt giddy, wired, and all the other stuff I wasn’t supposed to feel.

  After all, the point of the weekend getaway was to get unnecessary shit out of our systems so we weren’t distracted and backed up when season started.

  Instead, I’d stood with arms wide while Cupid shot his arrow straight through my heart. Rosie Fucking Bennet. Finally. God, she felt good. Tasted good. Was good.

  Too good for me, but somehow, I’d managed to seduce her, and there was no question in my mind that she enjoyed every minute of it. I certainly had anyway.

  I helped the older guys load the last few empty kegs into the back of Peyton’s pickup truck and then headed for the bus. As I made my way down the narrow aisle, Jordan waved at me from the back and offered me his window seat.

  While I squeezed past him, I noticed his skin had taken on a greenish tint. “How you holding up?”

  “I’ve been better,” he said, taking his seat again.

  I pulled a half-drunk Gatorade out of my bag and handed it to him.

  He drained it in one go and wiped the rogue dribbles that escaped the side of his mouth with his sleeve. “Thanks,” he said, breathless.

  “No problem,” I said as the bus rumbled to life beneath us. “I just hope you don’t have to piss in five minutes.”

  “I’m so dehydrated right now I’m afraid I might never piss again.”

  “So you had a good night?”

  “Could’ve been better,” he said. “I was hoping—nah, forget it.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “Peyton said it’s good luck to score before the first game, so I was kind of hoping I might. But it’s just a stupid superstition.”

  “Definitely,” I said, wondering if Peyton himself had scored. It was unlikely that he hadn’t since the guy was a pussy magnet. However, he was also the starting QB, which meant any luck that didn’t go his way could feasibly go mine.

  “You and Rosie disappeared pretty early,” Jordan said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

  I stared out the window.

  He elbowed me. “You fucking lik
e her, don’t you? Like, really like her?”

  I kept quiet and let him make his own assumptions.

  “That’s the kind of shit that can make you lose your edge, man,” he said. “Make sure that doesn’t happen during season. You never know which games the scouts are going to be at.”

  “Whatever.” I knew he had a point, but he was the last person who should’ve been lecturing anyone about their edge. I had more hunger and drive in my little finger than most of my teammates would ever have, and I had more riding on my success than they did, too.

  So while my feelings for Rosie were neither timely nor convenient, I wasn’t going to blow it with her just because the hornballs I associated with didn’t know how to manage their energy. I could love the game and love Rosie. No big deal.

  Wait—love? What the fuck?! Is that what this was? Because I wasn’t ready for that. There were only two people on Earth that I loved- my mom and Patrick—and my love for them was already suffocating enough to destroy me if I didn’t keep it in check.

  So love? No.

  I could like Rosie. I could admire her. I could fuck her and respect her and put her on a goddamned pedestal, but loving her was a price I couldn’t afford to pay. Not yet. Not when my family was counting on me to go all the way with football so I could take care of them the way my dad never could.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Jordan said, elbowing me again.

  “What?”

  “About Amber?”

  “What about her?” I asked.

  “I think she asked me to her formal,” he said, picking at a small tear in the vinyl seatback in front of him.

  “Oh yeah? That’s great news.”

  “I don’t know if she’ll remember, though.”

  I looked sideways at him. “Go on.”

  “She passed out, like, five minutes after she mentioned it,” he said. “In the grass.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “I didn’t put her there,” he said. “She sort of fell down the hill.”

  “And?”

  He rolled the empty Gatorade bottle between his hands. “And I ran after her to make sure she was okay, even though she was laughing.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And by the time I reached her, she was…snoring.”

  I laughed. “You’re kidding?”

  “I wish,” he said. “Two of her friends came then and dragged her ass home.”

  “I can see why you’d be concerned.”

  “Do you think I should call her and remind her?”

  I scrunched my face. “Maybe give it a few days?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Good idea.”

  “Do you guys smell popcorn?” Troy yelled from the seat behind us.

  Everyone erupted into boos and started throwing empty water bottles towards the back of the bus.

  “Jesus,” Jordan said, blocking his head. “This is an enclosed space, you asshole.”

  Troy kept cracking up while everyone else reached for their windows.

  “You should get that checked out,” Austin said. “That ain’t right.”

  I stuck my head out the window and smiled. I knew it was crazy. I shouldn’t have been smiling while my teammate was trying to kill us with his own gas, but all it took was one thought of Rosie, and I was a million miles away.

  Back at the lake, holding her in my arms, my forehead against hers as she slid down my cock and tilted her hips towards me. Having her was better than I ever dreamed it would be, and all I could think about was having her again.

  I wanted to know everything about her, to celebrate everything about her, and having such overwhelming feelings of goodwill for somebody made me feel like I was glowing from the inside out. Made me feel better than I had in a long time, which made perfect sense.

  Because Rosie was the kind of woman that could raise a man up, the kind of woman that could inspire me to become more, to want more, to demand more.

  And I knew I didn’t have to worry about her hurting me. Because she wasn’t a spiteful person. She wasn’t a user. She wasn’t anything like the other women I knew. She was a winner, an inspiration, a goddess.

  And as long as I continued to earn her affection, I knew nothing could bring me down.

  T W E N T Y N I N E

  - Rosie -

  “Have you taken this before?” I asked, turning the Plan B box over in my hand once we got back to my room.

  “No,” Nikki said, leaning against my bed. “But my sister did once.”

  “And?”

  “If it were an awesome experience, I probably would’ve mentioned it to you.”

  “Right,” I said, wishing this had happened on a day when she had the energy to lie to me.

  “But a little nausea beats getting knocked up any day.”

  I forced a smile.

  She stepped closer. “Seriously, Rosie. Relax.”

  “I’m just down on myself for even being in a situation where I have to take it.”

  “It’s just a precaution,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “And it’s the responsible thing to do.”

  I pried the large pill from its metallic casing and threw it in my mouth.

  Nikki handed me a water bottle from my mini fridge and watched me wash it down.

  “Do you think I need to tell Luke I took it?”

  “It’s up to you,” she said. “I wouldn’t, personally. Unless he tries to pressure you into not using a condom again, but—”

  “He didn’t pressure me.”

  “Right. So it was your choice, and so is taking this precaution.”

  I sat in my desk chair, sighed, and waited like a paranoid freak to be overwhelmed by nausea.

  “But if you guys are going to make a habit of fucking in weird places, you should probably think about going on the pill.”

  “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend.”

  “Why? ’Cause he hasn’t used that word? You’re kidding yourself, Ro. This is a thing, and he’s going to try to sleep with you again.”

  I pressed my lips together, but the smile broke through anyway.

  “Hornball,” she said, shaking her head.

  I squeezed my whole face shut like I could keep the giddy from spilling out, but it was no use.

  “Looks like you’re not the only one sprung off your tits,” she said, nodding across the room.

  I turned around to find my roommate’s laptop open on her desk. The screensaver photo featured her smiling cheek to cheek with a skinny brunette whose face was pierced in all the places I knew a person could pierce and more. “They’re cute together.”

  Nikki rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it just like a person in love to be happy for another pair of lovebirds?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m in love.”

  “You’re as close as I’ve ever seen you.”

  I shook my head. “Love doesn’t interest me.”

  “Just sex?”

  “Very funny,” I said, though the mere thought of having sex with Luke again made me want to march right back to the health center and trick or treat for birth control. But love? I didn’t know much about love. Didn’t that require selflessness and compromise? Those weren’t exactly my most developed virtues, having grown up as an only child.

  “Do I need to call maid of honor or is that in the bag?” Nikki asked.

  “You’re being obnoxious.”

  “So are you,” she said. “I feel like I can see the bluebirds circling your head.”

  “I’ll try to tone it down.”

  “Do,” she said. “Or next thing I know you’ll be jumping on Oprah’s couch.”

  “God, I’m not that bad.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re pretty bad. I mean, you haven’t even cleaned the mud out from under your fingernails yet.”

  “Shit,” I said, laughing as I looked down at them. “The people at the health center must really think I’m a tramp.”

  “They’re not the only ones.”

  “Ar
e you done?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But only ’cause I gotta go nap. If I lose my voice, I’ll lose my place in the pyramid.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  “Thanks,” she said, opening the door. “And Rosie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Whatever you do, don’t puke that shit up.”

  I groaned and waved her away, deciding as soon as the door clicked shut that she was right. Napping was the only logical thing to do. I changed into some pajama pants, stepped up on my mini fridge, and crawled into bed.

  Five minutes later, just as I felt myself begin to let go and drift off, my phone rang under my pillow, sending vibrations straight through my temple and into my skull. Unfortunately, in my attempt to silence it, I accidentally answered.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said. “’Sup?”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m a peer.”

  “Sorry.”

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Great. You?”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “But if you have a minute, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “What is it?”

  “Your mom was just bragging to your Aunt Kathy about your article.”

  I smiled.

  “And I finally put two and two together.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that young man you interviewed, Luke Hudson—”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s the same Luke Hudson who went to high school with you. Is that right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

  “I wanted to make sure you don’t have to spend any more time with him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Was it just that one assignment you had to do?” he asked. “Or are you obligated to spend more time with him?”

  “I’m not obligated to—”

  “Good,” he said.

  “But he’s a friend, and—”

  “I don’t want you hanging out with that boy.”

  “Dad, with all due respect, you can’t tell me who to hang out with.”

  “As long as I pay your college tuition, you bet your bottom dollar I can.”

  “He’s a nice guy. You have no reason to ask me—”

  “That boy’s father is an abusive alcoholic, Rosie. He can’t hold down a job. He beats on his wife, and people who grow up exposed to those conditions have problems you don’t need.”