Love and Heartache (Love &... #2)

by A. J. Briar

  “I can’t believe you fell for it. I mean if I wanted Logan, I would’ve gone after him long before now.” Roxy laughs but it’s slightly off and I wonder whether I’ve given her something to think about. “And just because you mentioned it, feel free to stay away from Nathan too.” I keep my tone light, but she sees right through it. Luckily, her phone vibrates distracting us both and changing the conversation quickly.

  “Uber’s here. Here.” She thrusts the black boots at me, gesturing for me to put them on then continues directing me. “Get your stuff and let’s go watch our boys.”

  I inwardly thank the gods and rush around the room, shoving my feet into the knee-high boots and grabbing my phone and purse. The journey to the arena is swift considering there should be more traffic on the roads for a Friday night. I’m thankful though, when we step out into the cool night air, as it gives me chance to compose myself before entering the wolves den. A few groups of students litter the sidewalk, some drinking, some smoking, others just waiting. Roxy bypasses them all, striding towards the entrance, drawing the attention of most of the dudes around her. Her whole demeanor radiates her confidence and a tiny part of me wishes I could be like her, to give zero fucks about what people think. I follow beside her as she weaves us to courtside seats, and my jaw drops at how close we’ll be to the guys. I should’ve guessed walking in with Roxy, would’ve given us extra privileges but this is a whole new level. The only downside is that we’re surrounded by literal ball bunnies. I glance around, fucking thankful that Roxy had the sense to dress me as everywhere I look is a sea of short designer dresses, blonde hair and fake tan. Even looking the way I do, I stick out like a sore thumb, Roxy too. Instinctively, my hands find the hem of my jersey and my fingers begins to fiddle. How the fuck did I think this would be a good idea. Roxy whispers under her breath, so quiet that only I can hear what she says.

  “Don’t show them your nerves, they’ll feed on a weakness and if there’s one thing I know, you’re not weak Izzy. You got this. I’m sure of it.” Her words hit the spot, pushing away my inner fears, replacing them with an internal confidence that’s burrowed somewhere inside. Fuck letting them feel that I’m inferior just because I don’t dye my hair or wear expensive clothes.

  The seats fill up, and the noise level rises in anticipation. The flutter in my tummy becomes a full swarm of butterflies. Sweat beads at the back of my neck and even though Roxy tries to distract me with people watching, my brain becomes hyper fixated on the fact that I’m going to see Nathan play for the first time. I’m grateful that I don’t have long to wait, before I hear a rumbling of feet stamping and the double doors swing wide open to reveal the team running onto the court. Wolves howl, the crowd hollers and the atmosphere amplifies to a point where my butt vibrates against the seat and my heart palpitates out of my chest. I know the moment he sees me; my body will set alight with the spark that seems to be ever present when we’re around each other. What makes it worse is, my mind is counting down the seconds, welcoming the onslaught of emotions he’s making me feel and relishing in them, rather than drowning in them.

  12

  Nathan

  “Listen up dickheads, if there’s one thing we control tonight, it’s how hard we play. Blood, sweat and a few tears have gone into practicing for this match. Do not let the worship and praise go to your head before the seasons ever begun. We’ve got this shit down and the win is ours for the taking. Are you ready Wolves?” A grunt of yes’s rumbles through the room, which obviously isn’t good enough for Rory. “I said are you fucking ready Wolves?” A chorus of agreements echo off the walls as Rory gears us all up. The atmosphere is infectious when everyone hollers and cheer, though the screams and the rumble from the gym outweighs everything the guys throw at them. We all pause and take note of the crowd’s roars.

  Closing my eyes, I revel in the calm that washes over me. I should be nervous considering it’s the first game playing with a new team, but I’m not. I can do this shit in my sleep and everyone has worked hard the past week to get here. Hell, I’ve thrown myself into practice, working out twice a day as well as a daily run to keep my cardio up. I’d like to say it was all for the benefit of the team, but it was purely a distraction. Isabella James has starred in every single one of my thoughts at every opportunity since I walked out of her apartment earlier on in the week. And I’m not even ashamed to admit that. She has me all tied up in knots and she probably doesn’t even realize it. Her uncanny ability to be able to evade me has played on my mind, but I know it’s just Isabella being Isabella. If she can run from a problem, she does.

  Rory claps me and Logan on the shoulders, causing me to shake off my thoughts of Isabella. The initial frostiness from the team is long gone. After the third practice, they understood that I was damn good at my job and if they want to win anything this year, they need me; simple as.

  “Showtime soon. You got this Hartley? I swear you better not fluff it.” Rory questions while I shrug my jersey over my head.

  “Fuck yes, I’ve got this. Give me the ball and I’ll score.” He laughs manically, which ends with me and Logan giving each other serious side eye. Then he steps away to pump up the rest of the boys. I swear the dude has multiple personalities, but it doesn’t surprise me, considering Roxy is the exact same. She’s popped up several times recently, varying in attitude, depending on her mood. I saw her at The Hideout on one night, and she was pissed as hell. To be honest, I would’ve been too considering she was working, and it was packed but still. She took her anger out on us, meaning every time we ordered a round, half of it ended up spilt on the table.

  Then, a few days later, I saw her across the quad, and she beamed at me. I’m fairly sure that time, Isabella was standing with her and she was only doing it to rouse a response from her. Though by the time, I’d sprinted across the grass, Roxy was alone and laughing, with Isabella nowhere to be seen. I’d obviously hallucinated and that was when I realized I needed serious help.

  I scrub my hand across my face and slam my locker shut, joining the guys who are all lined up ready to enter the chaos of the gym. Music blares from the speakers, and the gym’s cheers get louder as we run onto the court. I grab a ball and begin warming up when goose bumps prickle over my skin. It doesn’t take long for me to start searching the stands for her beautiful familiar eyes, which I soon lock onto. She notices me at the same time. The bedlam of everything else falls away and I find myself captivated by her beauty.

  She’s wearing a loose Wolves basketball jersey, that looks more like a dress on her, paired with knee high boots. Her hair is in a high ponytail, a few tendrils coming loose framing her beautiful face. I wasn’t nervous before, but now seeing her here, watching me, has my stomach tied up in knots.

  Tearing my gaze away from her, I try to concentrate on sinking my free throws. Logan dribbles the ball over to me, and winks while muttering under his breath.

  “You’re welcome.” He smirks at me then shoots the ball to find it bounces off the rim of the basket. I track his movements wanting to be mad at him, but I’m really not. The fact she’s here, just spurs me on. Is it wrong that I want to show off to impress her? I glance back over at her, her eyes watching me like a hawk, and shoot the ball, sinking it straight through the hoop. She rolls her eyes but bites her bottom lip and I find myself distracted by her. If she plans to tease me all night, this is definitely going to end up disastrous. I look away, trying to think of anything but her, while I take my place on court.

  When the second half rolls around, we’re up by thirty points and unless we all somehow become incompetent in the next twenty minutes, we’ve won this easily. Even with the beauty of Isabella distracting me every time I dribble past her, we effortlessly win the match, extending our lead by twelve points to end the game on 96-54.

  The crowd erupts and I’m immediately engulfed in a sea of faces and confetti. Logan claps his hands on my shoulders, boosting himself up, as everyone rides a high from the win. It’s not long before we’re
all ushered off the court, where the team then carries on celebrating while we shower and change. Post-game sweat drips off my body, but I relish the high from winning the game. I pushed myself to another level tonight, knowing that Isabella was watching every move, every throw, every dribble. And fuck does it feel good, to know that she saw me and the team in all it’s brilliance. Music blares from someone’s portable speakers as the word party is thrown about the locker room.

  “You oldies up for a party at mine? First one of the season.” Cole smirks from across the bench, gesturing to me, Logan and Rory. The fact that we’re only two years older than him, clearly puts us in the senior citizens category, although judging by the smirk Rory’s wearing, he’s about to lay him out for calling us that.

  “Respect your elders dickhead, or you’ll be running suicides at six am practice tomorrow.” A series of burns and laughs resonate from the team while Cole’s eyes widen in response. I’ve got to hand it to the dude, he recovers quickly, extending the invitation out again.

  “Sorry. You pussies up for a party at mine?” Cole’s smirk lands on his face as both me and Logan bark out a laugh. Rory rolls his eyes and shakes his head with indignation, but promises we’ll be there. Cole murmurs a ‘good shit’ and then turns back to his locker, typing away on his phone.

  Grabbing my own shit from the bench, we all head out. We barely make it out of the door, before we’re swarmed by a group of ball bunnies. In the past, this was a well-earned reward after a win but here, it knocks me sick to even think of another girl. A blonde, whose outfit is severely lacking, sidles up next to me. Even if Isabella wasn’t in my life, I’ve made a point to stay far away from blondes. Images of my psycho ex Brooke flash through my mind and I shiver thinking about her. How she used and abused me, cheating on me several times, how she manipulated Seth into attacking Isabella, how she then blackmailed me with a video of the assault. The girl is a straight up sociopath and thank fuck, I haven’t seen or spoke to her since the day she was kicked out of high school.

  The girl next to me pouts unprettily, while grabbing a hold of my shirt, introducing herself as Fiona. The same is happening to the other guys, a brunette with Logan and a redhead with Rory. As much as these chicks remind me of Charlie’s Angels, I’m not entirely comfortable being pawed like a pet. Neither is Logan by the looks of things, his entire expression a grimace while he pushes the ball bunny off him.

  His eyes linger on something in front of him, causing him to stop walking abruptly. The action forces me to bump into him while trying to wiggle out of this girl’s grasp, which is surprisingly strong.

  “Dude what the hell.” I ask Logan, all the while still trying to push the chick away politely, when Logan steps out of my eyesight and I come face to face with the object of my heart’s desires. Although, at this moment, her beautiful teal eyes are darkening by the second, as she assesses the scene in front of her. I can’t lie, it doesn’t look great that I’ve currently got my arms round another girl but in my defense, I was trying to get her off me without being rude about it. I’m now regretting that decision, the wounded look that crosses Isabella’s face slices me in two. She narrows her eyes; the hurt slowly is replaced with irritation then is quickly covered with a well-placed mask that we both wear well. Her posture straightens when Roxy tells the girls to get lost. I would laugh if I weren’t in such a compromising position.

  Despite knowing we’re not together and technically I can do whatever I want, I really don’t want Isabella to think bad of me. Cringing away, the girl, whose name I’ve already forgotten, glares at Roxy and Isabella. I extract myself and step away, shaking my head so she knows whatever she thought would happen tonight, isn’t.

  The whole situation grows more and more uncomfortable, even as the ball bunnies leave, Isabella glares at me, while Roxy scowls at Logan, Rory ends up lost in the middle of it all somewhere. Logan opens his mouth to speak but Roxy steps forward and interrupts him.

  “Whatever you’re about to say, stop. I don’t care what or who you do in your free time. I just thought you’d all have a bit more class then to do the resident bimbos.” She screws her face up in disgust and considering she just said she doesn’t care, she waffled on an awful lot there. “Anyway, we just came to congratulate you all on your win. Congratulations.” She sneers then grabs Isabella’s arm who is looking everywhere but me. Before my brain can get into gear and say something, Roxy begins to steer her away. I’m moments away from chasing them when Rory pipes up.

  “Give it a rest R. And don’t even think about heading over to Cole’s house looking like that.” His words have Roxy stop in her tracks as she swivels her entire body menacingly. Holy shit, if looks could kill, Rory would be long gone by now.

  Stalking towards him, the unfiltered rage rolls off her. She’s not even trying to hide the fact she’s pissed when she goes toe to toe with him. The fact Roxy’s at least a foot and a half smaller than him, makes no difference. She pokes him in his chest as the rest of us just stare, unable to intervene. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but I kind of want to see how this pans out. Plus, if Roxy ends up going tonight, that might mean Isabella might go too. I just hope she doesn’t continue ghosting me like she usually does.

  “You do not tell me what to do Rory Paine. I’ve not listened to you for the first twenty-one years of my life, I’m not about to start now.” She pokes him one more time for good measure, then spins on her heels. “And for the record, we weren’t planning on coming tonight, but now?” She glances at Isabella, visibly asking for permission, who subtly nods in response. “Fuck yes. We’ll be there. And I plan on ruining all of your nights. So be warned.” She eyes us all once more, her eyes lingering on Logan, longer than necessary, then her and Isabella leave.

  We all collectively sigh, while Rory swears under his breath. I clap him on his shoulders, reminding him that murder is illegal, before we head out. Man, I get why the dude is so protective of Roxy, considering she looks like sex on a stick. I’m sure most of the guys here would hit on her in a heartbeat. However, he needs to go about it, in a less controlling way, even I can see that, and I’ve only known the dude a short while.

  By the time we arrive, the party is in full swing. Crowds of people spill out from every seam of the house. Even the windows, as we walk up the path, to see a couple of dudes smoking while sitting on the window ledge. Loud bass music plays through the speakers, vibrating through the walls and floors constantly.

  As we saunter through the house, people greet and congratulate us. The whole thing is completely fake as no doubt if we’d lost, the same people would be jeering us instead. Popularity is completely superficial and only lasts as long as you’re on top. I’m actually surprised at the reception I receive, considering I’m the new kid here.

  Girls paw at me from all angles, the girl from earlier, Fiona, I think she said her name was, snakes up next to me. I can’t even fathom how she didn’t get the message earlier that I’m not interested. My irritation is clear to see, though it doesn’t stop her from stroking my arm like she owns it.

  I motion to Logan that I need a drink and hightail my way away from her. He follows showing me the way. Turns out, the guys keep the good stuff hidden in a cupboard in the laundry room. Go figure. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from the shelf then closes the door, looking around to make sure no one is spying on him. I snort out a laugh and shake my head

  He offers me a sip, which I gratefully take, welcoming the burn that I’ve become familiar with over the past two years. I grab a couple of cups and we head back into the lion’s den. I say that, because the moment we enter, I notice at least four sets of eyes track us. None of which, are the eyes I want to see. I’m mindful that the last party me and Isabella were both at, ended catastrophically. It’s actually refreshing knowing that she hasn’t remembered that particular memory from her past. I crush the cup in my hand just thinking about that night.

  “S’up dude?” Logan gestures towards my now clenched fist, his eyebrow quirki
ng up. I struggle to formulate any sort of response; the overwhelming need to find Isabella outweighs every other thought.

  Scanning the room once more, I try to lock onto my target but come up blank. A quick glance back at Logan tells me that he’s even more confused by my actions.

  “Nothing.” I shake off the impending thoughts of that night and try and focus on the here and now. Rory appears next to us, ushering us to the basement, saying something about a beer pong match going on. I go willingly, realizing that Isabella might be down there. No such luck though, as Rory coerces us to play against the trio of girls from earlier. Already, I can tell that this spells trouble, but I can’t exactly leave without raising some questions. I just hope at some point, Isabella and Roxy will end up down here giving me an excuse to leave. It can’t do much harm to try and distract myself.

  An hour later, I figure a lot of harm, Rory and Logan are both out and I’m the only one able to actually throw straight; plus, there’s been no sign of Isabella or Roxy. The girls, whose names I now know are Fiona, Ellie, and Alicia, are absolutely dominating us. I’m tempted to just fluff my final shot, just to get this all over with, so I can find Isabella. However, Rory and his big mouth has bet god knows what on this match and I’m not sure I want to find out what will happen if we lose. The only option is to win, though I’m guessing Rory will still end up with these chicks regardless.

  Logan is on his knees, his hands steepled together praying, as Rory stands behind him, craving for a different outcome. I throw the ball and sink the shot easily.

  Cheers erupt from the crowd that has gathered around us, and I eye Fiona who I’ve noticed everyone calls Fifi; don’t even get me started on that nickname. She bites her bottom lip, in what I’m sure is supposed to be a seductive manner, but nothing stirs inside me. Apart from more annoyance, that I want this game over and done with. If she makes this, we continue. If she doesn’t, the game is over, and we’ve won with our prides still intact. I pop my dimple out at her, which has the desired effect, throwing her off her game. She hits the cup, but the ball bounces off the rim and onto the floor.