Game For Tonight (Entangled Brazen) (Game for It)

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Game For Tonight (Entangled Brazen) (Game for It) Page 9

by Karen Erickson


  There was no way she’d tell her mom the truth. She already thought Aubrey was crazy enough for being in a so-called relationship with Flynn. If she knew it was fake? She’d probably end up telling everyone. The very last thing they wanted.

  “Are you done?” Aubrey asked when her mom finally paused, seemingly to catch her breath. “Can I have a turn and tell you what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to feed me a bunch of bullshit over how much he loves you and you think he’s going to take care of you for the rest of your life? Because he won’t, sweetie. He’ll find someone else eventually and leave you to figure out the hard stuff on your own,” her mom said.

  Aubrey closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Her mom was so negative. She projected all of her earlier experiences with Aubrey’s dad on everything. She had no faith Aubrey could find a good guy for herself because, hey, they all sucked. Every last one of them.

  “Listen. Be quiet for a minute,” Aubrey said when she got her chance. “I’m seeing Flynn Foley, yes, but it’s nothing too outrageous. He’s a nice guy. We have fun together. That’s it.”

  “The segment I saw on Entertainment Tonight said the two of you were hot and heavy and that there’s even talk of marriage.”

  Well, that was taking it a little too far. They’d “come out” publicly and confirmed they were together, and now there was talk of marriage? “Don’t believe everything you see or hear, Mom. Take it from your publicist daughter.”

  “So you’re not engaged to this boy?”

  “Of course not! We’ve only just started dating.”

  “And you didn’t take his virginity? I can’t even believe I just asked you that question. Don’t answer it,” her mom said hurriedly.

  The virgin thing hung in everyone’s mind. It drove Aubrey freaking nuts. What she’d first thought might be kind of fun, to mold and teach a man exactly what she wanted in the bedroom, had turned into this crazy joke of a situation, where the public deemed her the virgin stealer.

  “Trust me. I won’t answer it. What happens between Flynn and me is no one’s business,” Aubrey said.

  “Honey, I hate to point this out, but your relationship with this player—and I’m not just talking football—has turned into everyone’s business, real quick.”

  Aubrey didn’t need an explanation for why her mom called Flynn a player. “We’ll navigate it as best we can. Don’t worry. This is what I went to college for, after all.”

  “I’m just afraid he’ll try to take advantage of a sweet, trusting girl like you.”

  “I need to go, Mom. Don’t worry about me, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Do you need to go because he’s there? Are you at your apartment? If you’re going to insist on having a relationship with this man, then at the very least, spend most of your time at his house. I’m sure he lives in a gorgeous mansion. Let him spend money on you, honey. Take advantage of what he has to offer you financially,” her mom encouraged.

  “Can’t believe you’d suggest that—I’m not a gold digger, Mom.” Good Lord, the woman had clearly lost it. “Talk to you later, okay?” She hung up before her mother could get another word in. She set her laptop aside and stretched out on her bed, tired of dealing with…everything.

  It wasn’t even six o’clock, and she was already exhausted. What with Harvey, Flynn, the reporters and photographers, and now her mother, she was done. She needed a nap. Forget her growling stomach and the work she still needed to do. It would all still be there in a few hours. Or tomorrow.

  …

  Flynn drove, his grip tight on the steering wheel of his brand-new truck Harvey had picked up for him so they could throw the paparazzi off his trail, his gaze never straying from the road in front of him. He was a man on a mission, and nothing was going to distract him.

  The shrill ring that filled the interior of the vehicle blew that thought to pieces. Worse, the man calling him sent his mood straight into Shitsville.

  Reaching out, he hit the button on his bluetooth and answered the call. “Hey Dad,” he said. Waiting for the verbal blow that he knew would come.

  “Son.” That was it. Nothing else.

  Flynn clutched the steering wheel even tighter, if that was possible. “What’s up?”

  “Your aim was off.”

  No kind words, no congratulations on your team making it another step in the play-offs. Just immediate criticism. He was surprised it had taken him this long to call.

  Welcome to the world of having James Foley as a father.

  “I played maybe five minutes,” Flynn retorted, wincing the moment the words came out of his mouth. What was it about talking to his father that turned him immediately into a sullen teen?

  “And for those five minutes, your aim was off. You’re throwing to your left. Didn’t your coach mention that? Haven’t you guys been working on this fault of yours?”

  He sure had, not that Flynn would admit it to his father. Besides, he was damn lucky they’d given him a few minutes of field time. Quinn’s shoulder had been acting up, and they’d had such a strong lead going into the fourth quarter, they’d let him out to play. “Listen, we won the game, so isn’t that good enough?”

  “No thanks to you,” his father muttered. “If you think you’re going to stay on with the team with that sort of game play, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Flynn pressed his lips together to keep in the string of awful words that wanted to pour out. He rarely disrespected his father and hadn’t done so in years. He hadn’t ever displeased his father much to earn this barrage of words, either, until this season. Last season had been amazing, what with him having to step in and take over for Quinn while he was out with his shoulder injury. Flynn had done well, earned a ton of press, and had been sitting on top of the world.

  They’d called him Golden Boy. He’d been on the cover of freaking Sports Illustrated, for the love of God. His dad had bragged to everyone what a superstar his boy was. Never doubting Flynn or his skills for one single moment. Flynn hadn’t doubted his skills, either. He felt as though he’d not only conquered the world but damn near owned it.

  Until Quinn had come back this season, fresh and better than ever, knocking Flynn right off his pedestal. They kept Flynn on, just in case, scared that Quinn could reinjure himself, but it never happened. He played as if he hadn’t been injured, worming his way back into everyone’s eyes, minds, and hearts as though he’d never freaking left.

  Then the guy had to go fall in love with and marry the sweetest woman on the planet. Everyone loved Jared and Sheridan. They were the perfect couple.

  And now the media mocked Flynn as much as they could. Why wasn’t he playing? What happened to the Golden Boy? The rumors, the gossip, the harsh criticisms—they all spurred him on and made him want to play harder. Better. Faster.

  “If they trade me, there’s nothing I can do about it,” Flynn finally said to his father, not really giving a crap any longer. He’d loved the Hawks since he was a kid, because it was his dad’s favorite team. He’d wanted to play with them ever since he could remember…with his father’s influence, of course. And when it actually happened, when he’d been signed with the Hawks right out of college, it had been like a dream come true for both him and his father.

  But they didn’t play him anymore. He was going nowhere, and he was wasting valuable time. Everyone knew it, too, and he sensed a trade could happen. Nothing personal, he just knew his chances with the Hawks were slim to none, what with Quinn being completely unstoppable. Flynn was sick of sitting on a bench. He wanted to play.

  “You want to be traded? Are you insane?” His father sounded incredulous. No surprise. The very last thing he wanted was Flynn leaving the Hawks. He bragged about his son as much as possible, not that he’d done much talking lately. “You’re not helping matters with this girl you’re seeing. Your publicist.”

  The disgust in his father’s voice was no surprise. Flynn didn’t know how to
answer him, either.

  “I don’t know what I want.” That was the truth. “And keep Aubrey out of this.” He flicked the vehicle’s blinker on and turned right on Aubrey’s street. Yep, he was going there. He didn’t have a choice. She was all he could think about. She freaking consumed his thoughts, and he knew it was crazy but damn it, he needed to see her. Make sure she was all right.

  “Keep her out of this? She’s an even bigger problem, don’t you think? What did I tell you about staying focused, huh? Getting involved with a woman—one you work with, I might add—is about the worst thing you could go and do at this particular moment.”

  He took his father’s chastising, and when he’d finished, Flynn reassured him that he wouldn’t let a woman distract him from the most important games of his career. That promise didn’t appease his father whatsoever, so Flynn pulled over on the side of the road and sat there for another ten minutes, listening to the dangers of becoming involved with a woman and losing his sense of self, then finally hung up.

  If Flynn’s mother ever heard that particular speech, what would she think? His dad’s words were insulting to women and his supposed sacred views on the institute of marriage. It made Flynn wonder if his dad, such a faithful guy all these years, was secretly miserable?

  The guy was never flat-out happy. When had he ever been? As a kid, Flynn had loved making his dad proud when he’d accomplished something on the field. As he’d grown older, though, he’d realized his dad seemed to live through his every success. He pushed and pushed, not always because he cared, but because he wanted to look good and impress his friends.

  He’s always controlled you. You don’t know how to live any other way.

  Hell. The realization made him furious.

  His father had always led him down the right path. Had supposedly always watched out for his best interests. What Flynn wanted, his father wanted, as well. His entire life had been about football. He’d been consumed with it. Knew nothing else but football.

  He was starting to realize there was a lot more to life than just football. And he was missing out on all of the opportunity that surrounded him.

  Like Aubrey. Like living a real life, with friends and a girlfriend and not having to think about football all damn day.

  Within minutes, he was pulling into her complex’s parking lot, and he hurried to her building. It was dark, the night was quiet, and he was almost afraid someone was lurking in the shadows or behind a bush. He’d lost the paparazzi, who had been trailing him heavily all day, thanks to his new truck, which any average Joe could own.

  That was exactly what Flynn wanted. Something that could help him blend in and not be obvious. He was tired of obvious.

  So freaking tired of it.

  Earlier he and Aubrey had stopped and posed for a few quick photos when they’d left the Hawks facility, just before they’d parted ways for the afternoon. When she’d gazed up at him, her expression all adoring, dreamy-eyed girlfriend, he’d dropped a quick kiss on her upturned lips. The buzz that had gone through him when their mouths had made first contact hadn’t gone unnoticed on his part. Though she’d seemed completely unaffected.

  That kiss had been all he’d thought about since he’d left her.

  Now he stood on her front step, after getting her exact address from Harvey. And he was worried that she hadn’t replied to his earlier texts. He needed to know she was okay, that she was safe. The two of them were now in this together, and he wanted to protect her.

  And if she didn’t answer the door right this very second, he was going to break it down and make sure she was all right. Where the hell could she be?

  “Aubrey!” He pounded on her front door, not giving a crap if he caused a spectacle for her neighbors to see. Not the smartest way to think, considering he didn’t want the media to find him, but damn it, what if she was hurt? Or hell…what if she was with someone else? Like another guy? “Are you in there? Open the damn door!”

  Within seconds, it swung open, a very startled—and very sleepy looking—Aubrey stood in front of him. She’d changed into little white shorts and an oversize Hawks T-shirt. Clearly she had on whatever she usually wore to bed.

  Considering it was around eight at night, that surprised him. And aroused him because, holy hell, there was a lot of skin on display.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  “I was, uh…worried about you.” He scratched the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. He’d overreacted when he should’ve just waited for her to text him back. Not come to her place and try to beat down her door.

  “How did you know where I live?” She hid her yawn behind her hand, then smoothed her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it. He liked how rumpled she looked. Would like more than anything to be the one to get her all rumpled and naked in bed before they fell asleep in each other’s arms…

  “Uh, Harvey gave me your address.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, noticed that they were actually wearing the same T-shirt. Though it looked way better on her. “Can I come in for a minute?”

  “Sure, yeah. Considering you’re my boyfriend now, I guess you’re entitled.” She laughed a little and opened the door wider, but he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

  He was wound up as tight as he’d ever felt. His skin itched and he felt ready to burst. Restlessness sizzled through him, making him want to find a way to channel all of that energy into something else.

  Something like…Aubrey.

  “Are you all right?” she asked once she’d shut the door, turned the lock, and then leaned against it, watching him with a wary gaze. “You seem a little…keyed up.”

  “Keyed up” didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. And all the crap he’d been dealing with was coming at him tenfold, now that he was in Aubrey’s presence, with her looking as sexy as she did. Her feet were bare, her toenails were painted a bright red, and all he could do was stare at her long, pale legs.

  What the hell was she doing wearing a pair of shorts like that? It was freaking January. She should not be walking around in little shorts that should be declared illegal. Yeah, she looked hot but damn, it was cold out here.

  “I’m a little edgy, yeah.” He nodded, swallowed hard. How could he explain to her what was wrong with him, when he didn’t know himself?

  “Don’t tell me you’re freaking out over everything.” She offered him a tentative smile. “You’re always so calm under pressure. I know you can handle this. The press hasn’t been so bad since we’ve talked to them. Hopefully, soon, they’ll leave you alone.”

  “Yeah, they’ve been all right. My dad is pissed, though.” He sounded downright hostile, though he didn’t mean to.

  She nodded slowly, the smile disappearing from her face. “Your dad?”

  He took a deep breath. “He’s not happy about any of this.”

  “Oh.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes full of…sadness? “I’m sorry if I’ve come between you and your father, Flynn. I never meant for that to happen.”

  “It’s okay. Really. He’s never happy.” Ever. And it sucked.

  Should he tell her how he was feeling? Hell, why not. Being honest with her, being real with her, he needed that. No more hiding, no more keeping his true feelings inside. Since their night together, he couldn’t focus on anything else. All that kept popping into his brain were images of her. Naked. In his bed.

  “You need to understand something about me, Aubrey. When I commit to something, I’m all in.” Going on pure instinct, he went to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and hauling her up, pinning her against the door, her legs going automatically around his waist. Her eyes widened as she stared down at him, and she curled her hands around his shoulders to brace herself. Or cling to him, he couldn’t quite tell yet.

  “All in?” she asked as she tightened her fingers on him. Damn, her touch felt good. Too good.

  “Yeah. And you need to know something else.”

  “What
?” she asked warily, her legs loosening their grip around him.

  Damn. He didn’t want her putting more distance between them. Not right now. He needed her close. As close as two people could get. “I’m referring to the fact that I can’t stop thinking about the kiss we shared earlier.”

  She frowned. “What kiss?”

  That she didn’t remember frustrated the hell out of him. “The one we performed for the cameras.”

  “Oh.” Her brow furrowed. She looked damn cute all perplexed. “That was just a little kiss, Flynn.”

  “A little kiss. Huh.” Leaning in, he brushed her mouth with his. Once. Twice. Soft, sweet kisses that sent a bolt of fiery lust straight through him, which settled in his twitching cock. “I like the way you taste, Aubrey. I want more of it.”

  She audibly swallowed, releasing a shaky exhalation. “You say things like that, and I want to kiss you again,” she whispered.

  Triumph surged through him. He needed to handle this significant moment unfolding between them just right. Yeah, they’d had sex. It had been a major moment, at least to him. But now he had an opportunity to make this real between them. Make it right.

  And that’s what he wanted more than anything. More than football, he wanted Aubrey. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to have her for long, but he definitely wanted to see where this would go.

  “I feel like a total jackass for how I treated you after our one night together,” he murmured against her soft lips. “Let me make it up to you.”

  She parted her lips to say something, and he took advantage, kissing her hungrily before she could utter a word, his tongue sliding against hers. He clasped her head between his hands, his fingers buried in her silky hair, his body pressed firmly against hers. She tightened her legs around his waist, trying to draw him in as closely as possible, and he let her. Their hips collided, his erection rubbing against her belly, and she gasped against his mouth, a pleasurable little murmur escaping her. She grasped his shoulders so tight he could feel her fingernails cutting into his skin, even through his T-shirt.

 

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