by Anna B. Doe
While I don’t mind talking ball, I don’t share anything about life back home. Not that I have much to say anyway. I’m sure as hell they aren’t interested in listening about how I worked in my uncle’s garage over the holidays, busting my ass off to earn some extra cash for the upcoming school year while they were vacationing in the Hamptons or wherever the hell rich kids, like most of the BWU population, vacation.
Being the star wide receiver for the Ravens, it was sometimes hard to remember that I don’t actually belong with the rest of them. If I were a math or computer nerd like my buddy Maddox, I’d just be one of those scholarship brainiacs and nobody would even know my name. But since I can run and catch a ball like a pro, I’m one of them.
“Yo, Watson!” I turn around at the sound of my name, my eyes settling on a ginger head. Alec O’Brien, better known as “Brick Wall” O’Brien a junior player on the Ravens, waves me over. “Get your ass over here.”
“Those fuckers can’t do anything without me,” I say to the guy from my marketing class, patting his shoulder and moving toward my teammate.
Only the moment I turn around somebody runs into me. The force of the impact makes me stumble on my feet. I take a step back, regaining my balance. My hands shoot out, gripping the person who crashed into me and preventing them from falling on their ass.
“Fucking hell…” I look down, down, down, my eyes landing on top of a blonde head. “Are you okay?” I shout over the music.
Her body tenses underneath my hands and for a second I think she’ll jump out of her skin, but no. Instead, she slowly lifts her head.
The mass of long, honey hair that was shielding her face parts and the face I remember all too well looks up at me. It’s like I’ve been hit by a truck. All the memories I’ve pushed away are back in a heartbeat, front and center. There is a wheezing sound that after a while I realize is me. A sharp inhale all but chokes me. I blink and then blink some more, hoping that the picture in front of me will somehow change. That the person standing in front of me isn’t who I think it is. But it doesn’t. Of course, it doesn’t.
It can’t be.
But it is.
Callie-fucking-Stewart.
There is no mistaking it. That long, silky honey-blonde hair that almost touches her waist. That heart-shaped face with prominent brows and sharp dark blue, almost purple eyes surrounded with long lashes. Small nose and pouty pink lips that beg to be kissed.
Her eyes turn into saucers, but she doesn’t pull back. And neither do I. I want to, but I can’t. Her gaze is holding me hostage and all I can do is remember.
The memories I pushed away three years ago are now crawling their way back into my mind and it takes all I have to keep them at bay.
Out of all the places, all the colleges in this damn country, in the world, how did she end up here? Destiny can’t be that fucked up.
Her mouth parts, like she wants to say something, only nothing comes out.
Callie wets her lips, the tip of her tongue darting out just a little bit, drawing my gaze. My hands tighten on her shoulders.
Three years, and she still has power over me.
“Hayden…” she breathes softly. So softly I wouldn’t be able to hear it if we weren’t standing as close as we are.
It’s like a bolt of lightning buzzed through my body and she just said one word.
My name.
Something I never thought I’d hear again, and fuck if my heart doesn’t stop for a moment.
At least she remembers your name, dumbass.
I push her away, breaking the contact and putting so much needed distance between us. My arms fall down by my sides, my hands clenching into fists.
It’s been years, but one look at her, one touch and I’m that stupid, lovesick teenager I was when I first met her. Fuck that.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss, my eyes narrowing.
She steps back, clearly not expecting my angry outburst.
What the fuck did she expect? For me to lay a red carpet at her feet to welcome a little miss rich girl back into my life? Like she hasn’t done enough damage as it is.
“I-I…” Her voice trembles, but no explanation comes out. It’s obvious she didn’t expect to find me here either. Well, welcome to the club, babe.
I drag my hands down my face, losing what little patience I had. “This better be some sick joke or game of yours, Callie or I swear to God…”
“Hayden, I…”
“Callie?” A brunette joins us, interrupting whatever Callie wanted to say, her dark, weary eyes going between the two of us, before finally settling on her friend. “Is everything okay? We lost you for a bit.”
“Fine,” Callie breathes out, putting a fake smile on her face.
But apparently she’s not fooling anybody because her friend shoots me another curious look before concentrating on Callie. “You coming?”
Callie nods, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure.” She turns that face of an angel toward me. Only it’s not. Her mouth opens, and I can see her lips move, saying something, but I can’t decipher the words, because I’m stupefied.
The skin that was once flawless is now anything but. One long angry scar runs over the side of her face, from her brow to her chin.
Pink.
Ripped.
Ruined.
But before I can even attempt to wrap my mind around anything—the scar or the fact that Callie Stewart is here, in Blairwood of all places—her back is to me and she’s walking away, swallowed by the crowd like she wasn’t here in the first place.
“Dude, are you coming?” Brick calls out once again, breaking me out of whatever spell she put me under.
Fucking hell. I give one lingering glance to where Callie disappeared to, unsure of what I even want to do. She blindsided me completely by appearing here, but I knew I couldn’t deal with it now. I needed time to think, process, and form a game plan. This better be important.
Forcefully, I shove through the people, following after Brick.
“What’s up?” I tilt my chin in greeting, already scanning the space. The team has taken over our usual spots at the back of the bar where the two largest booths are, plus, we’re close to the pool tables hidden in the back room.
“Where you been, man? You can’t be late for a team night,” Brick slurs, confirming what I already know, for all his protests they haven’t missed me that much. He punches me in the arm playfully, but the force of the impact makes him sway on the balls of his feet. However, his words are suppressed by loud chants coming from the table. Pushing Callie to the back of my mind, at least for the moment, I turn my attention to the mayhem happening around me.
“Go, go, go!” Nix yells, encouraging two of our newest teammates to drink more despite the fact their faces are beet red as it is, eyes bloodshot and watery.
Just what I needed, a bunch of drunk-ass football players to babysit.
At least there is booze.
Shaking my head, I pat Brick on the shoulder before sliding in the empty chair next to my best friend. “Trying to kill all the rookies before the season starts?”
He turns to me, grinning widely. “We’re only giving them a proper christening into the team.”
Just as the words get out, one of the rookies, Nick I think, finally drops the empty pitcher on the table and collapses back into his chair, burping loudly which earns him another round of cheers.
“If you say so,” I shrug. Just then I see one of the waitresses pass by, so I signal her to bring another round. After the blast from the past I just had, I need a drink. Badly. “Just don’t get anyone in the hospital because Coach will definitely kill us.”
“Why aren’t you the captain again?” Nixon gives me a side-eye but there isn’t menace behind his words, only curiosity. “You’re such a party pooper.”
My eyes scan the crowd. I know I shouldn’t look for her, but it’s easier said than done. I don’t want to be blindsided again.
“Coac
h needed a pretty face to represent the team.” I shrug just as the waitress drops a couple of new pitchers on the table in front of us, getting in my line of vision. I shake my head to clear my mind. Get a grip, man.
Pouring each of us a glass—I’m that good of a friend—I take one long swig. Maybe I should have gone for something stronger. “Or maybe he just has a thing for blondes.”
Guys around us erupt into laughter, and I can’t help but join in. It’s too easy to get a rise out of him.
“Fuck off, Hades.” Nix scowls, but that just earns him more chuckling.
“Yeah, I totally dig it,” Emmett adds from the booth, his girl, Katherine, safely in his lap. The two were high school sweethearts, and are still going strong. So strong that sometimes being in their company makes me want to puke. “You always were his favorite.”
More laughter spreads through our group, guys adding to the verbal ribbing.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, you assholes, just remember I’m the guy holding the ball, and if you piss me off, you won’t see any playing time.”
I shake my head, trying to hold in my laughter. This is just too easy. “Dude, the only balls you’re holding are yours and you have to do it so we don’t mistake you for a girl.”
There is a choking sound, and if I’m not mistaken one of the linebackers sitting in the other booth actually spits out his beer, before the whole group erupts into laughter once again. We’re so loud that the heads begin turning—well, more than usual anyway—to see what is so funny.
Nix shoves me away, a challenge glimmering in his eyes. “Ohh, it’s on, Hades. You’re so going down for that one.”
I take a long drink, enjoying how the cold brew slides down my throat, and lean back into my seat. “You can always try.”
Based on the pissed look he gives me, he eventually will.
After that, we go back to talking about football. Laughing at Nix’s expense helped me loosen up and get my head back on straight. I’m here to relax with my teammates, so that’s exactly what I do. No more thinking of a certain blonde from my past.
“Dude, what’s with your game?” Nix laughs at Steve, another of our new additions to the team. The guy has a solid kick, but he’s barely out of diapers. “You’re practically drooling.”
To prove my point, Steve’s face grows beet red in embarrassment. He dips his head down, which only makes us crack up harder.
Which reminds me… I pull out my phone, checking the messages. Tamara said she’ll stop by later, but I hadn’t seen her so far.
“You know her, Stevie?” Nix tips his head in the direction of whatever girl caught our kicker’s attention.
From the corner of my eyes, I can see the kid’s throat bob as he nods.
Me: You coming?
I could use some fun before the season starts, and Tamara is the perfect girl for the job, and exactly what I need right now. Fun, easy, and most importantly, a complete opposite to the ghost from my past.
Nix apparently took it upon himself to show the poor freshman some moves. He thrusts a glass in his hand. “Drink that up.”
“Liquid courage always helps,” somebody agrees loudly and more than one head nods in agreement. I couldn’t fight with that. Liquid courage helped me more than once in those first days when I became the big man on the field and girls started to pay attention to me.
“But…”
“I dare you.” Oh, man, not that again. “Drink up, go to the bar to order another round. Get the lady a drink while you’re at it.”
“You didn’t,” I groan as I watch poor Steve stumble toward the bar and the girl that caught his attention.
“Oh, yes, I totally did.” Nix wiggles his brows. “It’s a tradition. You don’t mess with the tradition.”
“Did you forget what happened the last time we played the dare game?”
“Dude, that was epic.”
“Epic shitshow,” I protest.
Every year, the team captains gather the players for some good old team bonding. And then upperclassmen throw stupid pranks and dares at rookies. Last year that was us.
They dared us to toilet paper wrap a car in the parking lot. At first, we thought it was just some random car, turns out it wasn’t. It was Coach’s car, and let’s just say when he was done for the day, he wasn’t too happy with what he found. And he made sure we knew that, for weeks after. I’ve never puked so much in my life.
That’s just one of the incidents that were a result of the dare game. And now he was bringing it up again?
I was just about to protest when a loud whistle breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Daaamn.” Nix’s fuck-me eyes are feasting on whatever girl caught his attention. “Who the hell is that and where the fuck has she been hiding all this time?”
Putting away my phone, I slowly turn around. This time I’m not even surprised. Of course, it’s her. Who else would it be?
“Fucking Callie Stewart,” I mutter to myself. Of-fucking-course.
“...the fuck?” Nix’s smile falls, an incredulous look on his face. He squirms in her direction. “What’s wrong with her face?”
But his fascination with Callie lasts only so long because when my words register, he turns toward me almost instantly. “You know her?”
I shrug, not wanting to talk about it. About her. “Something like that.”
Nix and I met during the training camp last year and became fast friends. We were both rookies at the time, and our chemistry on the field was undeniable. You don’t mess with shit like that. But just like with everybody else, I didn’t tell him much about my life. Especially my life before moving to New England to live with Grams and Uncle Kevin. Hell, not even them, who’re my family, know the full extent of what exactly happened that resulted in me moving here.
His eyes narrow even further. “Something like that?”
Ignoring him, I look back at Callie. The room is dim, and there are so many people I shouldn’t be able to see her, but somehow I do. It’s that damn hair. Light and shiny, it’s like a beacon. If only her soul was as bright as her hair.
“Watson?” Nixon elbows me in the gut, clearly refusing to let go of the topic.
“What?” I bark.
He gives me a knowing look. “You had a thing for her.”
This gets my full attention. “What? No! We went to high school together, but that’s it.”
It was way more than that. But I’m not about to rehash the past. Not when I did my best to keep it buried deep, deep down.
“Hades had a thing for who?” Emmett chips in, looking around like the girl will jump from the bushes and present herself in front of them. The guy’s the biggest gossip I’ve ever met. And that includes Grams and her knitting club ladies.
“Nobody,” I grit at the same time Nix says, “That blonde over there.”
He even goes so far to point a finger in the direction of Callie and her friends.
“The hot blonde with… wait, is that a scar on her face?” His mouth hangs open, I’m not sure if in awe or disgust, but it closes shut when his girlfriend pinches him. “Ouch.” He rubs at the sore spot. “What was that for?”
“Why are you checking out hot blondes?” Katherine crosses her arms over her chest, her brows raised in question.
“Aww baby, I’m not looking at anybody. Nix said she’s Hades’ girl.”
“Hades has a girl?” Katherine looks mildly perplexed.
I groan, rubbing at my temples. “She’s not my girl. We went to high school together for a while.”
“Then you can introduce me to her.” Nix stands up. “Like right now.”
“Fuck to the no,” I jerk back. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I instantly know they’re the wrong thing to say when I see the wide grin on his face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Oh, you want her.” He points his finger at me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You want her bad.”
“You’re insane.”
“Dude, just admit it.” Emmett looks over at Callie and her crew. “She looks like a cool chick. The scar is totally badass.”
“She’s also insane.” Just what I needed, my teammates getting infatuated with the only girl I can’t stomach to see.
“I don’t mind a little bit of crazy. Makes it more interesting in bed.”
My teeth clench at the image of Nix and Callie anywhere near a bed. “You’re fucked up, Nix.”
This is so fucking bad and getting out of control faster than expected. I didn’t even get a chance to wrap my head around the fact that she’s actually here, and now this?
“That makes it half the fun. So what will it be, Hades?” Nix’s grin grows wider. “You gonna introduce me, or am I doing it myself?”
“How about we all steer clear of Callie Stewart?” The last thing I want is to have the chick around me at all times. We did that once and look how well it turned out. No, there is no way I’m getting anywhere near Callie Stewart, not in this lifetime. Not with a ten-foot pole. Nope. She can mess with somebody else, I was done with her three years ago, and that ain’t changing anytime soon.
They all keep staring at me. Waiting. Fuck that. “I’m going outside. I need some air.”
Not waiting for their reply, I get the hell out of there.
Chapter Five
CALLIE
My heart is still thumping loudly against my ribs, but I don’t turn around to get one final glance at Hayden Watson as Yasmin pulls me away. I almost didn’t recognize him. Almost. But those eyes… I would never forget the mix of hurt and disgust in those green irises that last time I saw him. It happened three years ago, but sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday. The same eyes that were looking at me only moments earlier like no time has passed at all. Only it did. Three years have gone by and so much has changed. And damn, those three years seem to have been good to him.
Funny how the tables can turn.
Once a scrawny, clumsy boy was no more. Hayden Watson was all-male now. Towering over me almost an entire foot, and even from the glimpse of the body I saw, I knew he was fit with broad shoulders and muscled arms. Those big hands were on my shoulders, the heat radiating off of his body and into mine.