Montana could shatter my heart into a million more pieces than Nina had. The key word was could. If things did get serious with Montana and we broke up for some reason, my gut told me she would flay me in some way. I was still raw from Nina’s betrayal. Regardless, one kiss from Montana—and I mean a tongue-action, spit-swapping kiss—would fry me to a crisp. When I thought of her, I thought of a black widow. One bite, and I was hers.
Derek nudged me. “Are you here?”
I stepped out of the huddle for a second, took a breath, then focused back on the team. “Okay, replay.” We would practice the same play until we got it right. If we could get past our defense, which was as tough as the school we were playing on Friday night, then we had a chance to win.
When we broke from the huddle, Derek blocked me. “Whatever you do, don’t look at Coach.”
“Moron, why did you say that? Of course I’m going to look now.”
I glanced over at Coach Holmes, who was decked out in shorts, a Palmetto High T-shirt, a ball cap to match, and a whistle around his neck. My gaze went from him to the girl he was talking to. After a second, I realized Coach was deep in conversation with none other than Montana.
No fucking way. When she’d said she would talk to Coach about trying out for the team, I honestly hadn’t thought she was serious. The entire team turned to see what had grabbed my attention.
“You don’t think she wants on the team,” Derek said.
She certainly did if it meant fucking with me, and it wouldn’t be a good fuck. I wasn’t against girls playing sports, but football? A girl would disrupt the dynamic of the team. Plus, someone like Montana would get hurt. I’d had to hold my breath when Lou almost fell on top of her yesterday at the beach.
Austin, who was sitting out a play to massage his hamstring, was listening intently to Coach and Montana.
When he darted his gaze to me, I waved him over. “Please tell me she’s not asking to try out.” My voice sounded as if a pissed-off chick were gripping my balls.
“She gets on the team, I’m out,” Derek said.
I slapped him on the back of his helmet. “Montana was right. You are a chauvinist.”
Derek pushed me. “So the fuck what? Football is a man’s sport. Women don’t belong on the field with us. Think about it. Do you want to ram a female? We’ll hurt her. Our opponents would have a field day. So if not wanting to hurt a chick makes me a chauvinist, then I’ll wear that title proudly.”
Lou joined us, his chubby cheeks red and sweaty. “I agree. I’m all for women having equal rights, but I’m not breaking their bones. I almost creamed Montana yesterday, and if I had, I could’ve really hurt her.”
I was kind of jealous that Lou had gotten to touch Montana, as in having his body pressed to hers. “She’s not getting on the team.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Austin said. “Coach is listening to her. He wants to see what she can do.”
I didn’t know what the rules were for girls on the football team, but the teams we’d played didn’t have any girls on them. I removed my helmet. “Let’s break for water.”
Coach would be mad we weren’t practicing our plays, but I didn’t care. Hydrating was key; at least that was my excuse.
I jogged up to Coach as Montana was leaving. She swayed her sweet hips over to Elvira, who was waiting in the end zone.
“What’s going on, Coach?”
The team fought for cups and Gatorade from the cooler we had sitting on a chair.
He lifted off his cap, ran a hand through his sweat-soaked black hair, then returned the cap to his head. “The new girl in school wants to try out for the team,” he said in a pained voice.
“You’re not going to let her, are you?” I held my breath. I agreed with Lou about women’s rights and all, but I also agreed with the guys about not wanting to see some brute from another team pummel a girl into oblivion, Montana no less. That wasn’t happening while I was captain and quarterback of this team.
She could stomp her feet, pout, shout, and do anything else to get her way, but she was not stepping foot on this field as a Titan. No way. No how. Granted, I’d acted like a dick to her in computer class that morning, but she had no idea how much of a dick I could be.
She tossed her wavy hair over her shoulder along with a glare, which she followed by sticking her tongue out at me. I smirked when I should have been running in the opposite direction. The blue-eyed bombshell brought out a wild side of me that I never knew existed.
Coach blew his whistle. “Two laps around the track then hit the showers.”
I poured myself a cup of Gatorade. “Well? Are you?”
“I have to at least see what she has to offer,” he said.
“No way. Tryouts ended two weeks ago.”
“If I don’t, she could make a stink with the school board. Flynn won’t like that.”
I knocked back the cold liquid then threw my cup in the trash can beside the cooler. “Do you hear yourself?” I asked, my voice rising. “She’s a girl who could get hurt.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Are you afraid she’ll show you up?”
Yes. “No. Of course not.” So she could throw a football like a pro, but that was only one throw in a relaxed environment. I shouldn’t be worried. She wasn’t about to take my position, although she would definitely distract me from the game.
“Hit the track,” Coach said.
Instead of joining the team, I jogged in the opposite direction toward Austin, who was talking with Montana and Elvira. When I approached, the threesome broke up. Montana and Elvira beelined up the hill toward the school. I almost ran after them to shake some sense into Montana. Instead, I decided to cool off.
“Coach is giving her a shot,” Austin said. “Can you believe it?”
Hell no. “Do you know where she lives?”
“I’ll text Elvira,” he said.
“Send it to me when you get it. I’ve got to do my laps. By the way, how’s the hamstring?”
“Sore, but I’ll be ready for Friday’s game.”
I hoped so. Austin was our best wide receiver. He was my go-to man on the field along with Derek. I left Austin and finished my laps. Then I hit the showers. The locker room droned with Montana’s name bouncing around.
“Calm down,” I said to the team. “Coach is only letting her so he doesn’t get shit from the school board.”
“But you saw her throw,” Derek blurted out as he tore off his shoulder pads.
“There’s more to making the team than throwing a football. She’s got to know the game. She’s got to do all the drills that we had to do. That’s the only fair way. Right?” I wasn’t sure how much she knew about the game.
Lou scratched his matted blond hair. “Who are you trying to convince—us or yourself, dude?”
“Both,” I said.
The entire team broke out in a fit of laughter. I groaned.
“You’re afraid of her,” Derek said. “You like her too. And don’t deny it. I see it in your eyes. You’re hungry. I got that vibe yesterday on the beach after Nina left.”
I groaned again, mainly at the Nina reference. At that moment, I decided to stop snarling every time Nina’s name was brought up. I couldn’t walk around biting off heads, especially those of my team. They needed me to be the captain they believed in. Not only that, but Derek was right. I hadn’t stopped ogling Montana when she jumped to hit the volleyball or when she dove, trying to keep the ball alive. She certainly was taking my mind off of other people.
I stripped down. “So Montana is hot. Doesn’t mean I want anything to do with her,” I protested.
Derek folded large arms over an even larger chest as he eyed me with small brown eyes. “Take her to bed. Get her out of your system, or else you’re going to be shit on the field. She might help you get over Nina too.”
I was over Nina. I just didn’t like her assuming that she and I would be a couple again. “Isn’t happening, man. In fact, absolutely no girls for me
this year.” I walked my bare ass into the showers.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Derek said at my back.
The entire locker room broke out with barbs and laughter. Whatever. I was sticking to my plan of no girls. No distractions. I was going to concentrate on football.
Austin poked his head in as soon as I stepped under the shower. “Derek has a point. Get Montana out of your system.”
I squirted soap in my hair. “When the sky falls, I will.”
“I tried, guys,” Austin said, his voice fading.
Guys booed while I finished showering. Then I toweled off and wrapped the terry cloth fabric around my waist on the way to my locker. Montana’s name dropped from someone’s lips.
I stood up on one of the wooden benches. “First, chill about Montana. Coach knows what he’s doing.” At least my fingers were crossed on that. “Two, I’m not going to use her to get my rocks off because you think that will help us win a game or to get over someone else. We’ll win on Friday night based on our skills, provided you morons have your head in the game. Remember, Charleston High is one tough motherfucker of a team. So we need defense in tiptop shape. We also need the offensive line to do their job, and I will do mine.” Then I hopped down.
One by one, they nodded. Several slapped me on the back before they left. Finally, when the locker room was empty with the exception of Austin and me, I dropped down on the bench.
Austin leaned against a locker opposite me. “I’ll be one hundred percent. Don’t worry about me. I texted you Montana’s address. What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to talk. Then afterward, I’m getting drunk.” Or maybe I should get laid. Then maybe I wouldn’t be sexually frustrated around Montana.
“Your mind is going a mile a minute,” Austin said.
He knew me too well. “It’s only the second day of school, and I feel like I’ve been in hell both days. If this is what senior year is going to be like, then I will need tons of girls and booze.”
“There’s my friend.” He grinned. “Celibacy never helped me.”
Chuckling, I got off my ass and dressed. “Since when has the girl magnet been celibate?”
“You got a point. Do you want me to come with you to Montana’s?”
“No. I won’t be long.” My plan was to dissuade her from football. I couldn’t have the guys on edge, and I had to keep order on the team and in my head.
Austin and I chatted about football all the way to my truck. After I was on the road for the one-mile ride to Montana’s house, I turned up the Grant Lee Buffalo song on the radio, although I wasn’t listening. I was debating what to say to her, but all I could think about was throwing her against the wall and kissing the fuck out of her.
I pulled up to the two-story plantation home with the wraparound porch. It looked like every other house in the neighborhood. The engine idled. Get out of your vehicle and be the polite Southern boy you’re known to be. I’d had that illustrious distinction for most of my life until I’d put that Clemson quarterback in the emergency room. Then polite had gone out to sea.
I got out of my Hummer, absorbed the humidity, and strode up the driveway to the path that ran parallel to the house. After I climbed the four steps onto the porch, I raised my hand to ring the doorbell then paused. Montana’s singsong voice floated through the screen door.
“Someone saw you in the grocery store yesterday,” Montana said. “They know you’re here.”
“We’ll deal with it,” a voice that sounded almost like Montana’s said.
I glanced at the Lexus in the driveway, trying to decipher what the heck was going on. When I turned back, Montana was staring directly at me through the screen door.
Chapter Eight
MONTANA
I glared at the yummy quarterback. His hair was damp, his cheeks were red, and his impish smirk was sinful. “Are you a stalker?” I asked with my hands on my hips.
“Who is that, honey? The air conditioner man?” My mom’s footsteps slapped on the tiled foyer as she came up behind me.
“Do you know how to fix air conditioners?” I asked Train. My body was tingly from his tantalizing male scent floating in through the screen door.
“Oh, hi,” Mom said. “You’re not the AC man.”
“I’m one of Montana’s classmates.” Train’s raspy Southern accent only enhanced the tingly sensation in my belly.
My mom pushed open the door as Train skirted to the side. “Come in.” Then she glared at me. “Where are your manners?”
Train traipsed in. “Yeah, Montana. Manners.” Then he batted his long lashes at my mom. “Hi, ma’am. I’m Train Everly.”
She craned her neck up at him. “I’m Georgia.” She planted on a warm smile. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, ma’am. But it’s deathly hot in here. Do you have someone coming to fix your air conditioner?”
“The landlord said it would be a couple of days,” Mom said. “I think Montana and I might have to go to a hotel until we get it fixed.”
That would be wonderful. Then I could get a good night’s sleep.
“I could call my father. He owns a contracting business with a team of workers that have all kinds of skills. I’m sure he could get someone over here.”
Mom’s blue eyes beamed. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Why not?” I chimed in. “If it gets someone out before the they find our bodies shriveled up in here.” Comfort was more important than ignoring Train at the moment.
Mom dragged her fingers over her forehead. “Honey, don’t be so dramatic. And Train, if you don’t mind calling your father that would be great. I’ll let you two talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.” Mom breezed away.
Thank goodness her brain had cleared to accept help.
Train and I entered into a stare-down. Another minute of taking in all that was Train Everly was too much for my system. He made the heat in the house hotter with his presence.
“If you’re here to talk me out of football, then leave. My mind is made up.” I didn’t care to play. My goal was purely to mess with him. Sure, I could think up other ways to screw with his head, but Derek’s chauvinistic comment had stuck with me, and I got the impression Train agreed.
He pursed his lips together—lips that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
He snapped his fingers. “You want to kiss me. Don’t you?”
I almost dropped my jaw then clamped it shut. “Not in this lifetime.”
He inched closer with that smile that about made my knees buckle. “Do you always lie?”
I inched backward until my butt hit the bannister. My breathing ramped up as I threw my hands behind me to latch onto a spindle.
He raked his gaze over my face then lingered on my lips. “And what else is your mind made up about?”
“That it will be a cold day in hell before you kiss me,” I said weakly.
He leaned down so his steamy breath was tickling my ear. “The way I see it, you’ll be throwing yourself at me.” He nibbled on my ear. “You have no willpower.”
I lost my breath, my vision, and all sound of my mom, who had been making noises clinking glasses together. I planted my hands on Train’s hard chest. “You’re an asshat.” Then I tried to push him away. Tried being the operative word.
“You’re not playing football.” His mouth hadn’t left my ear.
The lust coursing through me gelled as I balled my hands into fists. “Get your ego out of your pants and think for once that women have equal rights.”
That got him to step away with a scowl. “So if you can’t show Coach what you got, you’re going to the school board?”
I hadn’t thought about that, but he had a good idea. I lifted a shoulder.
“Do you really want to make a spectacle of yourself?”
“If I got it, why not flaunt it? Besides, it might bring down all those egos on the team.”
A muscle jumped along his jaw. “I’ll make you a deal. You lay o
ff the football, and I won’t spread the word on who your mom really is.”
I squinted at him as though we were standing in the bright sunshine. Reagan might’ve put the puzzle pieces together and blabbed to him, Elvira, and others. I’d always found it amazing how rumors spread so quickly through high school. The problem was my mom’s identity wasn’t a rumor.
My mom cleared her throat. I swung my gaze to her, hoping she could read my mind. A little warning before you enter a room.
“Did you happen to speak with your father?” Mom asked.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll call him now. Excuse me.” Train went out onto the porch.
“What is going on between you two? Are you dating?” Mom asked in a singsong voice.
I gently pushed Mom into the family room. “Shh. No. He’s an ass.”
“A handsome ass, Montana. And he’s so polite.”
All fake. “He’s mad because I asked the football coach if I could try out.”
My mom’s red lips opened, her jaw almost slamming on the white carpet. “Since when do you play sports? Wait. You need to get your grades up. And what about a job and art classes?”
“I am taking an art class as one of my electives.”
“Montana Smith, you are not playing football. You’ll get killed when those boys tackle you.”
I was hoping that Train would tackle me, but at that moment, I wanted to show him that girls could do what boys could do. “You sound like the football team.”
She gave me one of her mom expressions with tight features and lines fanning out around her eyes. “They’re right. You’ll get hurt.”
Footsteps clobbered into the house. “Excuse me,” Train said. “My dad is making a few phone calls. I’ve got to run, but I’ll call Montana when I hear from him.”
Breaking Rules Page 6