The First Score: A Best Friend's Brother Sports Romance

by Amie Knight

  Oliver gave a low growl that probably meant he wanted to kill my ass. “I can’t believe you right now.” I knew he said that from between his clenched teeth. Because I’d heard him say that plenty of times before and I knew exactly what it looked like. After all, Winnie was the responsible one. “Share your location from your phone.”

  And this was a perfect example of him being the responsible one. “Oh. Good idea. You’re so smart, Winnie.”

  He didn’t respond. Which I thought was odd. Oliver loved it when he was right. “Hello?” Nothing. “Winnie?” Still nothing. I looked at the screen and realized he’d hung up. I shrugged and walked back in the house and sat next to Scarlett on the couch. I sent him my location from my phone. I knew Oliver would come and save us. He always did. You would have thought he was the older one.

  “Scarlett!” I shouted over the loud music. She didn’t move. “Scarlett!” I yelled again closer to her ear.

  This time her head rolled toward mine and her eyes opened. “Stop yelling at me, Hazel,” she slurred out.

  I pressed my forehead to hers. “Winnie’s on his way.”

  “Of course he is,” she mumbled back.

  I nodded, neither of us surprised by our predicament or that Oliver was coming to save us. Again.

  Since I was stuck there for at least twenty minutes more I decided to drink another beer while we waited for Ollie. And Scarlett decided to continue snoring.

  I’d just finished up when I saw him come swaggering across the room to Scarlett and me. He didn’t look happy like he usually did. In fact, he looked downright livid.

  So I gave him a big smile and tried to pretend to be completely sober. “Hey, Winnie.”

  He stopped in front of the couch a foot from us and looked at me and then at Scarlett snoring away and then back at me. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. What’s wrong with her?”

  I should mention that when Ollie smiled, it was breathtaking, but when he was scowling, it was panty melting. He had the kind of jaws you could cut granite on now. He had a thick head of brown hair and striking hazel eyes with the kind of lashes every girl wished for. He was big and strong and tall. It was such a shame that he was my best friend’s brother. Yes, my Winnie had grown up to be a knock-out. But I knew I wouldn’t be doing any knocking.

  I continued to smile so I could somehow downplay this situation even though I knew he was going to want to murder me. Scarlett’s safety and well-being were always at the top of Oliver’s priorities and I’d failed her tonight.

  “Well, see. She was talking to some hot guy and I decided to leave her to it and go out by the fire with Rob. I was only gone an hour and I came—”

  “Enough.” He cut me off, leaned over, and hoisted Scarlett up by her underarms, then threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He stomped to the front door and I followed, knowing now was the time to shut my drunk mouth.

  “Hey, Olls,” Scarlett said loudly and drunkenly from upside down on Ollie’s back. She gave his ass a hard slap. I almost told Scarlett to shut her drunk mouth, too.

  “I can’t believe how irresponsible y’all are.” He opened the door to his old hand-me-down Honda Civic and laid Scarlett on the back seat gently. She proceeded to curl into a ball and start snoring again. “This is why you shouldn’t have gone out without me tonight.”

  He looked at me over the hood of the car and I nodded. “You’re totally right.” I wasn’t going to argue with him. For heaven’s sake, I’d been ditched. Scarlett was shit-faced. Things had gone to hell in a handbasket.

  “And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been drinking. Get your drunk ass in the car before I find that fucker who ditched you and fucking kill him.”

  I opened the passenger door pronto and slid into the seat and buckled up right away. Oliver was livid and the truth was, he hardly ever got mad at me. I wasn’t scared of him in that moment. No, I just hated how mad and disappointed he was in me.

  “I’m sorry, Winnie,” I said softly as he cranked up the car. He turned around and placed his hand on the passenger headrest to back out of the driveway. I’d never noticed before how hot guys looked when they backed out of a parking space or driveway, but I did now. I watched his bicep flex right next to my head and wondered what it would taste like.

  But then I remembered this was Winnie we were talking about and I turned back to look out the front windshield and tried to clear my half-drunk head.

  When we got out and onto a main road, he finally spoke to me. It was probably only five minutes later, but it felt like an eternity. I didn’t like Oliver being mad at me at all.

  “Don’t be sorry, Hazel. Just don’t ever do that again. Don’t go somewhere and not know where you are. Don’t get so wasted that you pass out!” He said the last part loudly. “Do you hear me, Lettie?”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” came Scarlett’s drunk words, as she rolled over and pressed her face to the back seat.

  “It’s fucking dangerous. Y’all have to be smarter than this. I can’t spend my nights worried about you guys every time y’all go out without me.”

  God, he was really good at making me feel like shit.

  “You’re right. Rob is a douche and we should have brought you with us. Will you forgive me now?” I wasn’t being sarcastic. Tonight had been a complete shit show.

  Oliver stared ahead out the windshield, granite jaw ticking. I wilted down into the passenger seat, feeling like a complete asshole. I was wishing that Scarlett were awake enough to feel like an asshole with me when I heard her gag.

  “Oh, God. I think I’m going to throw up,” she muttered.

  “I swear to fucking God, Lettie! If you throw up in the back of my car I’m going to lose my shit.”

  She gagged again. Clearly, she didn’t care about Oliver losing his shit. I did, though.

  I whipped off my seat belt and started stripping off the black hoodie I was wearing.

  “What are you doing?” Oliver looked over at me briefly, eyeing me in my tank top before his eyes grazed over my arms. I knew what he was looking for. It had been years since he’d seen them. Since that night in his bedroom when I’d hidden in the bathroom all night.

  I started to climb over the console and into the back seat. “I’m going to take care of my girl and save your car.” I only drunkenly wobbled one time before I reached Scarlett. Go me. I lifted her up and sat down before laying the hoodie over my lap and laying her head on top of it. “If you need to throw up, throw up on my hoodie. Okay, babe?” I said to Scarlett.

  I have to admit that I didn’t actually think she was going to throw up on me and my hoodie. But I was dead wrong. Because the next turn Oliver took was the one onto their road, but the movement caused Scarlett to jerk and the next thing I knew she was violently throwing up right into my lap. I held her hair back off her face and tried not to gag, suddenly completely sober.

  “Jesus,” Oliver grumbled from the front seat, but I didn’t know why the hell he was grumbling. I was the one with throw-up in my lap.

  Oliver slammed on the brakes and quickly got out of the car. He opened the other side of the back seat, just in time for Scarlett to be done puking.

  I looked at the front of the Knoxes’ house before looking at Oliver. “What about your parents?”

  “We’ll have to be quiet. Give me her.” Oliver leaned into the car and held his arms out.

  I could barely move without wanting to throw up. The smell. It was so bad. And it was all over my favorite hoodie in my lap. My stomach was churning as I pushed a passed out again Scarlett over to Ollie and he pulled her out of the car, cradling her like a baby.

  I rolled my soiled hoodie up and got out of the car, following behind Ollie.

  “Trash the hoodie in the dumpster, Hazel.”

  I walked around the side of the house and said a little goodbye to my favorite sweatshirt, then ran back around the front. Oliver let us in the front door and I walked quietly behind him, tiptoeing, my damn heart pounding a mi
le a minute, terrified Mrs. Knox would find us out. She was a sweet woman until you broke her rules. Then all bets were off and a shit ton of her rules were broken right now.

  Ollie took Scarlett and me to his room and then straight to his bathroom. He set Scarlett in the bottom of his tub. “You have to help her get cleaned up. There’s no way in hell I’m taking a shower with my sister.” His top lip curled.

  “Fine, I need to get cleaned up anyway.” I grabbed the hem of my tank top that I was sure had a little puke on it. Oliver was just standing there looking at me. “Get out, Winnie!” I yelled in a whisper.

  He did that from time to time. His staring thing. I knew what it meant, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself, much less acknowledge it with him.

  He snapped out of it quickly and closed the bathroom door behind him. After stripping Scarlett down as best as I could, I finally turned the water on down by her feet and stripped myself down to my underwear and bra and got in the tub with her. I turned the shower on and went to it.

  I almost felt bad for myself, but then I remembered I was the asshole who had left her alone for an hour. And I should have known better. Scarlett wasn’t a party girl and often felt awkward in social situations. She was probably trying to drink her anxiety away while I was outside hitting on some douchebag.

  Halfway through the shower, Scarlett started coming around and helping me, thank God. When we were mostly clean, I hopped out and got us towels from underneath Ollie’s sink.

  Scarlett wrapped one around her and snuck out of Ollie’s bathroom to her bedroom while I toweled off.

  A soft knock at the door startled me. “Yeah?”

  “I have some clothes for you.” The door cracked open and a hand holding what looked to be boys’ athletic shorts and a T-shirt slipped in.

  I grabbed them, thankful I wouldn’t have to walk by Oliver in nothing but a towel. I slipped my wet bra and panties off and put on his shorts, rolling them a couple of times at the waist to make them fit. I pulled the T-shirt over my head and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath of what smelled like Oliver first thing in the morning. It was one of my favorite smells, but I’d never tell anyone that.

  “Can I use your brush?” I called through the door.

  “Yep,” he answered back.

  After brushing my hair, I walked out into the room to find Oliver in a pair of flannel pj bottoms and nothing else spread across his bed watching TV.

  I walked over and climbed onto the side of the bed and nudged his side with my knees. “Scoot over.”

  I hadn’t been in Ollie’s bed since that night that felt like ages ago, but still he moved over and I sat next to him, my upper shoulders and back pressed to the headboard.

  I rolled my head to the right so I could look at him. And I tried very, very hard not to look at the abs he was already sporting at sixteen He stared at the TV, clearly still pissed at me.

  “Thanks for tonight, Winnie.”

  He rolled against the headboard until his eyes met mine. He didn’t say you’re welcome or anything, only gave me a slow nod before his eyes moved down my body past his black Adidas T-shirt and athletic shorts and then back up again until eventually landing back at my eyes.

  We stared at each other like that for a few minutes until his eyes drifted down to my arms where old scars ran up and down them. It looked like I wasn’t the only one thinking of that night so long ago.

  I felt the need to reassure him. To make sure he understood I was okay. “You don’t have to worry about me, Oliver. I don’t do that anymore. Haven’t for a long time.”

  He nodded again, his face thoughtful. I knew he hadn’t known what they were that night, but I could tell by his face that he had since learned what I’d been doing to myself then.

  Placing one of his hands between us next to my arm, he ran a knuckle down one of the scars on there until his hand finally settled up against mine. “Do you want a sweatshirt to wear? I know you don’t like to show them.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay. I’m not ashamed of them. I just don’t like to answer questions about them.”

  I looked down at my arm, wondering if he thought I was crazy. I watched as his big hand that was up against mine opened up slowly and covered mine. It was sweet. Him holding my hand. But that was Oliver. The sweetest.

  I gripped his back so, so thankful for him. He and Scarlett were so important to me.

  “Does Scarlett know?”

  My eyes left our hands to meet his green-brown orbs studying me. “About these?” I slightly raised our joined hands, motioning to the scars.

  He nodded.

  Shaking my head, I answered, “No,” softly. Saying it made me feel guilty. I shared everything with Scar, but I didn’t want to share this with her. It had been an ugly, ugly part of my life. One too awful for my sensitive Scarlett.

  He gripped my hand harder. “You should share it with her. She’d want to know. She loves you.”

  I gave him a soft smile. “I love her, too. That’s why I don’t share it with her.” I shrugged. “And besides, it’s over. I haven’t done it in a long time. Not since I moved into Pops’s place.”

  He nodded like he understood, but his eyes said he didn’t. “She’s your family. She’d want to know.”

  “I know. Y’all are like brother and sister to me. I feel so lucky to have found you guys.” I leaned over, wanting to hug my sweet Winnie. He was the best even when he was bossing me around. I laid my head on his chest and wrapped my free hand around his stomach, keeping our joined hands together underneath me.

  I lay there, listening to the sound of his heart, feeling something I shouldn’t. Something I knew could possibly ruin two of the best friendships I ever had. It was a niggling feeling that maybe, just maybe, I would have liked something more with Oliver. But I was quick to check myself always when I thought of that. I couldn’t risk our relationship. And I damn sure didn’t deserve someone like him. I deserved one-night stands and random hookups and I liked it that way. No commitments. No chance of ever falling in love. No possibility of being hurt. No one leaving me.

  “What if I don’t think of you as a sibling, Hazel? What if I never have? What if I don’t ever want to?” I heard him mumble into the top of my hair.

  My breath caught. My stomach somersaulted and I closed my eyes. I could still hear his heart beating beneath my ear. It quickened with every second and I knew it probably scared him to death to say it. It wasn’t like I hadn’t already known how he felt. It was always there in the thousands of ways he showed me all the time. Actions meant so much more than words and Oliver’s actions were bigger than life.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing at all. I just lay there. It wasn’t like I could say that I’d never thought about it. It wasn’t like I could tell him I didn’t have any feelings for him. Because I didn’t lie to Oliver. Ever.

  So when I felt his fingers slip beneath my chin and lift my eyes to his and slowly lower his face to mine, I didn’t say anything. I didn’t say stop, or tell him what a horrible idea this was. No, I wanted this. Now. Later I’d tell him it was because I’d drunk too much or that he was too young to know how he felt for me. But now, I let his nose brush the tip of mine. I felt the quivering intake of his breath against my lips and I closed my eyes and waited, my skin vibrating with awareness.

  One, two, three times he brushed the lush softness of his lips across mine. Slowly. Deliberately. Every feathery touch of his mouth against mine like a hot iron to my soul. One, two, three times my breath caught and my heart stuttered. Finally his lips pressed to mine so lovingly, so softly, so damn heartfelt that my nose burned with emotion. He didn’t open his mouth or force his kiss. No, Oliver’s mouth was as effortlessly sweet as him. For seconds that felt both too long and too short he held his mouth to mine and we finally pulled away and he rested his forehead against mine. I felt a tear slip free and slide down my face.

  Because all that kiss did was remind me of Oliver’s innate goodness and
why I couldn’t have him. He deserved someone a thousand times better than me. Not some fucked-up girl who cut herself. Not some girl who would never amount to much because she’d never been much or had much.

  I brought my own hand up to his jaw, cradling it in my hand like the precious thing it was. “Winnie,” I choked out, trying to explain as more tears threatened to spill over and onto my face.

  “Shhhhh. It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling me back down onto his chest and laying down in the bed. “Just sleep.” He rubbed my hair and my back and soothed me.

  And there he went saving me again. Or maybe this time he was just saving himself.

  “Hazelllllllllllll!”

  I rolled over in bed and looked at the ceiling. What the hell time was it anyway?

  “Hazelllllllllllllllll!”

  I wasn’t going to kill him. I loved him too much. That’s what I kept telling myself repeatedly as I rolled over and looked at the clock, realizing it was only 9:00 a.m. and I’d stayed up late playing the game with Gray Wolfe.

  “Haaa—”

  He started again, but I cut his ass off. I couldn’t listen to it for one more damn second. “Oh my God! I’m coming, Pops! Give it a rest!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

  I sat up, feeling like a ton of bricks were stuffed in my head. I went to the bathroom attached to the small bedroom and brushed my teeth, then threw on a sports bra, a sweatshirt, and some leggings, and finally my glasses. I spent two seconds brushing the tangles out of my hair because I didn’t want to keep the crazy old coot I lived with waiting.

  I stomped into the kitchen, ready to give him a piece of my mind, when I spotted Amor in the kitchen setting the table, my asshole pops already parked in a chair with a plate in front of him. Next to him sat another plate full of eggs, bacon, and toast and a cup of coffee.

  “Morning, Amor.” I leaned over and kissed her wrinkly cheek. She kissed mine back with her ruby, red lipstick lips. There was no doubt in my mind that I had a bright kiss mark right on my cheek.

  “Morning, sweet Hazel.”