More Than A Game (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 2)

by Bella Matthews

  As seniors at Kroydon Hills Prep last year, we were big fish in a small pond. You don’t realize that until reality smacks you in the face the first week of summer practice. College ball is different than even the very best high school ball. The speed of the game at this level is something you never imagined. Everyone on this team was the best player on their high school team or in their division.

  We were all All-Stars.

  Brady Ryan was in the top five nationally ranked quarterbacks our senior year, and I was in the top fifty nationally ranked linebackers. We were both recruited for this team, and now we’re freshman, happy to be starting.

  As a linebacker, the stars rarely align to give me a chance for the game I had today. Today was the living, breathing embodiment of my dream game.

  I had ten tackles and sacked the QB once.

  I hit a running back so hard, he fumbled the ball, and my defensive tackle recovered it.

  The cherry on top of this already wet-dream-worthy game was when I got an interception that I ran in for a fucking touchdown. A linebacker running for a TD is fucking rare. Today I made Ohio’s offense my bitch.

  The chartered flight the team takes back from Ohio doesn’t take long and is spent with everyone mixing old war stories in with their embellished versions of the game we just played.

  We’re all riding the high of having beaten one of our rivals.

  It’s a fucking fantastic feeling.

  Plans are being made for a party at the football house.

  Days like today remind me that I love my life.

  When Brady, Bash, and I walk into our house, I’m surprised by the sight that greets me. Natalie, Sabrina, and Chloe are laughing on the floor of the family room. There’s a half-empty bottle of Don Julio Tequila on the coffee table, along with three empty margarita glasses and three empty shot glasses. The smell of tequila and lime lingers in the air. The girls are so busy laughing, they don’t notice us until Brady clears his throat.

  Nattie launches herself at him from the floor. Lucky for her, he’s got great reflexes. She squeals, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “Behold the conquering heroes!”

  “Sweetheart, how much have you guys had to drink?” Brady asks lovingly as he holds her by her ass.

  Nat laughs like that’s the funniest thing Brady ever said. “We got bored waiting for you to come home. That game was amazing. God, I love watching you dominate that field.” She whispers something else in his ear, and Brady starts walking away with Nat attached to him like a fucking koala bear.

  When he gets to the bottom of the stairs, Brady looks back. “Don’t wait for us. We’ll meet you at the party later.” He takes the steps two at a time and disappears down the hall.

  Chloe leans back against the couch and tilts her head back to me. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get totally used to seeing that and knowing what my brother and best friend are doing.” She closes her eyes. “Can you even imagine if Cooper were living here?”

  “Nope. Coop would have lost his fucking shit by now.” Bash hefts his bag higher on his shoulder.

  Sabrina gets up and crosses the room. She’s wearing a tight black Kroydon Crusaders t-shirt and even tighter blue jeans, hugging her curves. It would be a plain look on anyone else, but on Sabrina, it looks fucking fantastic.

  She high fives Bash with a look of excitement on her face. “Great game.” When she turns to me, the look changes to something else. “Murphy, you were on fire. That sack you had in the second quarter was awesome. I didn’t think the quarterback was getting up.” A pretty flush tints her cheeks before she turns to start cleaning up.

  “Thank you,” is barely a whisper on my lips as I watch her and Chloe cleaning up the mess in the family room. Something about having Sabrina sing my praises is making me a little self-conscious when I usually love it. I’m a ham, I eat this shit up. Bash calls me a peacock, happy to prance around, showing off. He said it all four years of high school.

  What is it about Sabrina Cabot that throws me off my game?

  Glancing back at her bent over the coffee table with her heart-shaped ass on full display in those jeans, I feel my cock jump.

  Bash snaps his fingers in my face. “Earth to Murphy.”

  I shove him away. “Shut up, man.”

  He’s fucking laughing at me now as he looks from me to Sabrina, before a slow smile spreads across his face and a fucked-up light bulb goes off in his mind.

  “Oh, this is gonna be fun.” I hate when this fucker gets all introspective. As he starts to head to the stairs he asks, “Listen, I’m gonna go get changed. You coming to the party?”

  I loosen the tie that Coach insists we wear to and from all games. “Of course, I’m coming to the party. I need to get out of this monkey suit and take about a million ibuprofen first. Then I want to drink away the ache that’s setting in.”

  Bash nods and heads to his room to get changed.

  I make my way into the kitchen in search of some pain reliever and a bottle of water. The smell of pepperoni pizza has my stomach growling. Guess the girls ordered out for dinner. Moving the leftovers around in the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and start to look for the pain pills.

  My body always hurts like hell after a game, but tonight is worse than usual because the game was more vicious than the last few have been. I feel like I should have soaked in an ice bath for hours.

  Leaning against the counter, I swallow the pills and down my water as Sabrina comes into the kitchen.

  She balances all three glasses and all three shot glasses in her hands with the bottle of tequila under her arm. Placing the glasses in the sink and the bottle back in the freezer, Brina hops up to sit on the counter next to me. “You sore, Murph?” She surprises me by running her fingers through my hair then delicately squeezing my shoulders right where they meet my neck.

  Tequila might not make her clothes fall off, but it makes her bold in a way I haven’t seen from her before. “Yeah, Princess. I’m sore as shit.”

  “My neck always used to be tight after a big soccer game. It’s where I held all my stress.” She’s gently massaging my shoulders as if she’s scared to hurt me when in reality, she’s fucking turning me on.

  I can feel those firm tits pressing against my back and wonder what they’d feel like in my hands . . . my mouth. Shit, she’s still talking.

  “I’d try soaking in the tub or rolling on a foam roller that’s supposed to act as a deep tissue massage, but it never felt as good as when the trainer would massage my muscles.”

  “God, that feels good,” I groan. “Right there.”

  She’s still rubbing, only now she’s deepening the pressure. I’ve moved my body to give her better access. Standing between her spread legs with my back to her and my head hanging loosely, while she’s still sitting on the counter, I can feel the heat coming off her body. I’m not sure if this moment is meant to be sexual, but the feel of this girl’s hands on me might actually feel better than sex.

  Who the fuck am I kidding? Sex with Sabrina would be fucking insane. Something tells me this girl would light the fuck up for me.

  I’d be her favorite way to relax. Only problem is Sabrina wouldn’t be okay with a one-night stand. She’d want more, and I don’t know if I can do that or if I’d even want to.

  That thought has me pulling myself away and turning around. She’s still sitting on the counter, so I have to look up to see her eyes. Placing my palms on those long legs, I feel the muscles in her thighs tense and have an urge to see what they’d feel like wrapped around my waist . . . or my head.

  “Thanks for that, Princess.” She looks so fucking kissable. Her dark hair is dancing over her shoulders. Those big, brown doe eyes are soft and unfocused, and that sexy little tongue just darted out to wet her lips. But I’m not going to kiss Sabrina Cabot in my kitchen.

  I’m not supposed to be kissing anyone.

  Sex. Diet.

  Didn’t I just swear off girls?

  Wasn’t my fucked-u
p week a good enough reason for me to keep my dick in check?

  “I need to get changed, and then we’re heading to the party. You and Chloe want to wait for Bash and me to walk over?”

  If I’m not mistaken, Sabrina looks disappointed for a hot minute before she masks it, then hops down off the counter. “Yeah. Sounds good. I’m just going to finish cleaning up the other room.”

  She walks away before I can say anything else, and I’m left staring at that ass for the second time since we got home.

  11

  Murphy

  Thank God the walk to the football house is a quick one. Living off campus means we’re close to all the parties. None of these houses are sanctioned, campus housing. Those houses are on the other side of campus. That area is called Greek row and gets monitored by the campus police. This side of campus isn’t technically on campus, so since we’re officially in the city of Philadelphia, their police monitor this area, and they’re way too busy to be bothered with underage college kids walking the streets with beers in their hands.

  Most of the athletes are smarter than that. We can’t afford to get caught. But you still see crazier things along the way. The smell of fall is in the air, and it’s mixing with the strong smell of weed coming from the backyard we just passed. There are at least three other parties I can see happening on the same street as the football house. They’re overflowing with college kids looking to have some fun and de-stress any way they can.

  My typical coping mechanisms for dealing with post-game pain are getting drunk and getting laid. Getting high isn’t an option for an athlete. Not when it can cost you your place on the team and your dreams of the pros. Drunk, I can do tonight, but I’m standing by my decision to take a break from women. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had sex, and my willpower is already being tested.

  Bash and I are walking behind Sabrina and Chloe, and I can’t help but enjoy the view. The two girls have their arms linked together as they try to not get caught on the uneven sidewalk. This is an old part of the city and the giant trees lining the streets have destroyed the pebbled sidewalks with their massive roots. When Chloe trips, Sabrina holds her up before Bash or I can even help.

  Nice reflexes. Maybe she isn’t as drunk as I thought.

  We walk up to the old three-story football house a few minutes later, and if there was any doubt where the party was, it’s gone now. There are people spilling out everywhere. Tonight’s victory celebration is in full swing. You can feel the bass coming through the windows and the sound of celebrating coming from the backyard.

  Bash gets caught by a little blonde hottie on the prowl while the girls head into the backyard.

  “You girls know not to take an open drink from anyone, right?” I call out to Chloe and Sabrina, not knowing why I suddenly feel the urge to not let Brina out of my sight. But there it is. Annoying as fuck, but right there.

  Chloe rolls her eyes at me so hard, I’m surprised they didn’t fall out of her damn head. “Yes, Dad.” Her tone changes, from placating to annoyed. “What the fuck, Murphy? Don’t go all serious on me now. Just point us in the direction of the keg, and we’ll be good.”

  I start to answer my friend’s smart-mouthed little sister, but she keeps going.

  “And we know to watch them pour it too. Come on, Brina. I don’t want to be here when Murphy stalks his next conquest.”

  Chloe grabs Sabrina’s hand and pulls her away from me. I see a flash of disappointment flutter across those chocolate-brown eyes before she turns away and wonder why.

  Does she feel the same pull I’m feeling?

  My defensive captain, Jamie Dawson, walks over with his brown and white English bulldog, Rocky, drooling at his side. Jamie looks like he just stepped off his parents’ farm yesterday, all he needs is a plaid shirt and a straw of wheat sticking out of his mouth. With blue eyes and blonde hair, he’s a little bigger than me, but he’s got that farm boy strength. It wasn’t earned in the gym but in real life. He was offered a full wrestling scholarship to the University of Iowa but turned it down to play for Coach Barnett at Kroydon.

  Coach is a legend in college football and playing for Kroydon is a big damn deal. The team’s won five bowl games in the last eight years.

  Jamie is one of those guys who always seems easygoing and laid back until he’s not. It takes a lot to flip his switch, but I wouldn’t want to be on the other end when he gets pissed.

  He hands me a bottle of good beer, not the piss that will be coming from the keg in the backyard. “Cheers, Murph. That was a hell of a game today. You’re lining yourself up to fill the hole I’ll be leaving after this season. Way to go, man.”

  Rocky sits his ass down on the ground, his pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. He’s watching the two of us intently, as if he understands every word we say.

  Jamie’s a good dude. Some of the upperclassmen on the team were assholes to the freshmen at the beginning of the summer. They looked at us like we were new guys wanting to steal their positions and fuck up their legacies. But not Jamie. He took me under his wing right away. He’s been helping me read the plays and react better than I ever have.

  Read the quarterback, the center, and the running backs. Not just one of them but all of them. He’s a tough captain, but he’s made me better already. No doubt he’ll get drafted in the spring.

  The two of us clink bottles. “Cheers, man. Thanks.

  We walk into the backyard to a cheer, and bottles being lifted into the air. Jamie lifts his bottle toward me. “That’s all for you, man. Enjoy it. You earned it.”

  I shift my feet, looking for a place to sit. I’m not feeling it tonight. I don’t want everyone’s eyes on me.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Praise doesn’t usually make me uncomfortable.

  Seeing an open spot, I take a seat at the old wooden kitchen table the guys use outside and lean back in my chair. Conversation continues around me, and I take it all in.

  Bash makes his way to the back yard, and the hot little blonde from earlier sits on his lap. Before long, Brady and Natalie join us too, and more celebrating ensues. Brady is the best quarterback in our conference. Everyone loves him. He may only be a freshman, but he’s our quarterback, and we’re his team.

  Eventually, a gorgeous redhead with her tits falling out of a black Crusaders tank top sits on my lap. “You’re Aiden Murphy. Number fifty-one, KU’s starting linebacker,” She purrs as her fingers trace my bicep.

  She’d typically be exactly what I’d be looking for tonight.

  Eager and easy.

  I like that. I’m the guy that likes easy.

  My favorite way to forget about what we put our bodies through on that field is to fuck it all away with a warm, willing woman. But tonight, I don’t want easy. Tonight, I notice that her fingers are sticky, her tits are fake, and she has on too much makeup.

  Tonight, I want an uptight senator’s daughter.

  Maybe just for tonight, I don’t want to fight the pull.

  My eyes scan the yard looking for Sabrina, but she’s not where she’d been dancing earlier. Chloe’s there, dancing with one of our running backs. Wonder if he knows that’s his QB’s little sister?

  When my eyes land on Sabrina, she’s leaning against the house, watching me while one of our receivers crowds her. Pretty sure if looks could kill, the redhead on my lap would be toast.

  I think I just got the answer to my question. She’s feeling this too.

  I try to visually ask Brina what the hell she’s doing talking to our receiver, Mason. But my girl has no idea what I’m trying to get across. I’ll fucking overanalyze why I just thought of her as mine later.

  Pushing my hands against the redhead’s legs, I try to guide her off my lap nicely, but she thinks that’s an open invitation to grab my junk.

  Fuck it.

  I lift her off my lap, dumping her in an empty seat, then make my way over to Sabrina.

  Nodding my head at my teammate, who l
ooks like he’s ready to feast on this girl, I take her hand. “Hey, Mase. I’m gonna need to steal Sabrina from you for a minute.”

  “Nah, that’s not gonna work, Murphy.” He leans into her. “We were just getting to know each other a little better.”

  Instead of addressing him, I turn to her. “Sabrina, I need to talk to you for a second. Come with me.” I pull her hand gently and am rewarded with a beautiful smile as her cheeks flush red and she pushes off the wall.

  “I’ll see you around campus, Mason,” Sabrina sweetly tells this douche canoe as she follows me.

  I guide her behind the detached garage at the back of the property. The guys have it set up as a mini-gym. It’s dark back here and hopefully gives me coverage from prying eyes and interrupting teammates.

  Sabrina stands with her back against the garage, and I cage her in with my palms flat against the wall on either side of her face.

  “Princess, what were you doing with that prick?”

  “Mason?” She tries to look his way, but my arms are blocking any chance of a view. “We were just talking. He’s in two of my political science classes. He was surprised to see me at a football party. Didn’t know I was friends with you guys. I guess I don’t look like the girls that usually hang around the Kings of Kroydon Hills.”

  Growling, I tell her, “I hate that fucking nickname.”

  Leaning her head back against the garage, she looks up at me. “Little late for that now, don’t you think?” She raises her hand and grabs the front of my shirt. Not pulling it. Just resting her hands there with my shirt in her grip. “Murphy?”

  “Yeah, Princess?”

  She doesn’t speak right away, and I can tell the second her decision is made, and she lets go of my shirt.

  My hand catches her wrist, holding her right where she was. I don’t want her to change her mind. “What do you want, Princess?”

  Without a second to over think it, she closes her eyes and answers, “I want not to have to think. I want not to weigh every pro and every con. I want to just do something for myself. Something I want to do, not something I’m supposed to do.”