Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1)

by Rebecca Brooke

  I cracked one eye. “Fuck that. I’m exhausted.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever. It’s Friday. It’s the only Friday you don’t have a game until the end of November.”

  “It’s my first Friday night off since July.”

  “Which is exactly why you are going to get your ass off the couch and hang out.” Asshole kicked my foot again, knocking it from the table and narrowly missed knocking over my water. I swung at him, my balled fist colliding with the couch cushions when he moved.

  “Stop fucking kicking me.”

  “Not until you get off the couch and into the shower.”

  I groaned and he picked up a cushion and tossed it at me. Luckily I caught it. “I’m gonna get up off this couch, but it’ll be to beat your ass.”

  Ryan dropped down next to me, leaning back, his arms resting along the top. “Dude, as your friend, I can’t let you hide from the world anymore. You’ve already spent the last five months hanging out with teenagers every night. I need to save you from yourself.”

  The set of his mouth told me he wasn’t going to let it go until I agreed. And he had a point.

  Ever since the high school football season started, most of my time had been spent coaching the team or at work. As the offensive coach for the team, working in the school was a way to keep my eyes on the players during class. It wasn’t exactly the life I’d expected as a starry-eyed eighteen-year-old, when football had been my everything.

  It still was.

  My rock.

  My plan.

  Everyone said I could get to the NFL: coaches, reporters, teammates. How could they be wrong? Fifty-year-old records went down in flames with me on the field. Maybe it was ego, but I knew I was the one other teams watched footage of, trying to find ways to beat me.

  I’d thought I was invincible.

  My stomach clenched thinking about the hit that ruined everything. My brain told me the pain wasn’t real, but I could still feel the snap of the bone; hear it late at night when I couldn’t sleep and my mind kept replaying everything, over and over.

  After the surgery, things changed. My teammates came to see me, pity etched in each of their faces because despite what they might have said out loud, they knew the reality of my injury. No team would take a risk on someone with a metal plate and screws in his leg.

  It wouldn’t be worth the money.

  There were days I’d think back and wonder how different my life would have been. If that kid who thought he was the king of school could have ever imagined this reality. I dropped my head, squeezing my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose until it was just this side of painful. So many things I wished I’d done differently. The regret was like a physical weight on my shoulders.

  I needed to get out of the apartment.

  Sitting there alone would only make the dull, heavy feeling in my chest worse.

  “Okay.”

  I put my foot on the floor, wincing with the moment. Two years later and there was still a twinge of pain whenever my leg sat in the same position for too long. I’d given up trying to fix it. It was just part of life now. I might be twenty-four but some days my leg made me feel like I was seventy.

  Ryan sat up and spun to face me. “You’ll go?”

  “Fuck it. I could use a night out.”

  “Good. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t help you get laid every once in a while?”

  I lifted my head and glanced over at him. “Are you telling me you’re worried about my poor, lonely dick?”

  He watched as I let one of my brows lift and promptly burst out laughing. “Only when it makes you sangry?”

  “Sangry? What the hell is that?”

  “Sex-deprived angry.”

  It was like listening to my students sometimes. “You’re a lunatic.”

  Ryan linked his hands behind his head. “Life would be boring without me. Now get in the shower. I’m fucking starving.”

  He propped his feet on the table, making himself comfortable in the exact same position I’d been in only a few minutes ago.

  Dickhead.

  “Leave in twenty?”

  “I’m dragging you outta here in ten,” he called after me.

  I shook my head. There was the very real possibility that he’d do exactly that. I stripped my shirt off on the way down the hall, tossing it into my room as I made my way to the shower.

  “Nine minutes and thirty seconds.”

  Thirty minutes later we were on our way to a bar. Apparently, he wanted to see whatever band was playing that night.

  “Why do you have such a hard-on for this particular band?” I fumbled with the radio station. Ryan’s taste in music was only tolerable for so long.

  He shot me a look. “Besides the music being good, the lead singer is smokin’.”

  “You better not be dragging me to some country western line dancing bullshit.”

  He laughed. “Dude, I know better than that. You’d kick my ass for that shit. Trust me, it’ll be totally worth it.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and relaxed back in the seat. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  We pulled up in front of a pretty large building. It looked more like a club than the hole-in-the-wall bar I was expecting.

  The Island Lounge.

  “A club?”

  He shut off the engine and opened the door. “No. There’s a huge bar in the center, but there’s a stage in the back for the band.”

  We climbed from the car and I let the cool fall night fill my lungs. Practices for the season started in July and since school began, there hadn’t been many nights where I’d gotten home before eight. Not too late for a week night, except when I was also getting up at six in the morning to teach for the day.

  I would never give him the satisfaction by admitting it out loud, but Ryan was right—I needed a night out. Something to keep me from watching tape or Googling ways to fix my leg without the steel plate. Some days it was easier to forget, others not so much.

  Ryan pulled open the heavy wooden doors. He hadn’t been kidding when he said there was a huge bar in the center of the room. The damn thing almost ran from wall to wall on the sides. If it hadn’t been for the tables lining each side, it might have. The stage ran the entire length of the back wall, with enough space in front for the crowd to get up close and personal with the band.

  At the end of the bar, closest to the stage, sat Trevor and Mike.

  Trevor made a show of slamming his beer down and slapping his chest. “Holy shit, Ryan. Did you actually get Cole to leave the apartment?”

  I flipped him the bird and pulled out a barstool. “Funny. For that smart-ass remark, you’re buying me a beer.”

  He laughed. “Fine, but you’re buying the next round.”

  “Aren’t you the one with the high-paying job.”

  “Yes to the job. No to the high-paying.”

  Ryan and I took our seats. From here we could see the stage but still hear each other without having to yell. Mike ordered a round of beers and over the course of the next hour the crowd grew to the point where you couldn’t move without bumping into someone. It seemed a bit excessive for this early on a Friday night.

  Screaming started all around us, as people shoved each other to get to the stage. I glanced up and noticed the band members taking the stage. I turned my attention to Mike.

  “No way the Panthers are making the Super Bowl this year. Even with their picks in the draft, they still need to strengthen their offensive line,” he called, having to raise his voice to be heard over the din of the crowd. I opened my mouth to respond when the piercing sound of microphone feedback interrupted.

  “Tonight, we have a special guest for you: Jaded Ivory,” someone from the stage called out into the crowd, who started chanting what sounded like “mar ree.”

  I leaned forward and looked at Mike. “If Newton plays anything like he—”

  A sultry voice drew my attention to the stage.
r />   Fuck me.

  The beer in my hand almost slipped to the floor. The chick standing on stage, microphone clutched between her hands, had to be one of the sexiest women I’d even seen. In a tight blue tank top which accentuated the curve of her breasts and legs that went on forever in skinny black jeans, she was a walking wet dream. Blood no longer ran through my brain, all of it traveling south. Adjusting myself, I grabbed my beer off the bar again and drained it, hoping to cool my suddenly heated body. All the reasons Ryan wanted to come here stood before my eyes.

  “Holy shit.”

  Ryan followed the direction of my gaze. A smirk lifted the corner of his lips. “Now you get it.”

  I dropped my empty bottle onto the bar, my eyes glued to the stage.

  “Trust me, I get it.”

  Damn, I wanted a chance with her. Hopefully she’d stick around for a drink, then I could charm her into my bed.

  Throughout the show, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her short blond hair, barely brushing her shoulders and the tattoos that covered them. My dick surged to life in my jeans thinking of the ways I could explore each and every inch of her ivory skin, my tongue sweeping my bottom lip when the lights glinted off the small barbell in her brow. After each song, the crowd lost it. The catcalls, the cheers—all of it directed toward the singer. Every time they chanted her name—which Ryan told me was Mari—a slight blush stained her cheeks, the color accentuating her high cheekbones.

  The final song ended and I reluctantly turned my attention back to my friends. Ryan’s eyes were on me, like he’d been watching me the whole time.

  “You gonna see how far you can get?” The laughter in his voice was unmistakable, even as he took a sip of his beer. Having gone the whole set without a beer, I gestured to the bartender for a fresh one.

  “Let me guess, you’ve tried?”

  He outright laughed this time, along with Mike and Trevor. “There isn’t a guy who hasn’t. She always turns them down.” He gestured toward the stage with his chin. A tall guy stood near the front, about to take the steps down into the bar. “She usually sticks pretty close to the drummer there. We figure she’s dating him; although, he’s never threatened one of us for chatting her up.”

  I watched as the drummer made his way toward the bar. He was only maybe an inch or so taller than me. Maybe the guys were right and she was with him. It was hard to imagine a woman who looked like that being single.

  I ceased to think at all when I saw her emerge from the back, no longer in the blue tank, but a tight white V-neck, her nipples poking out through the fabric. She stopped next to the drummer. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh and punch him playfully on the shoulder.

  The gesture one of friends not lovers. Not that I knew anything about love. The only love I’d ever had was for football. Mari stepped around the guy and took a seat at the bar. Not a second passed before a drink was handed over to her. If the drummer wasn’t her boyfriend, I’d have to take my chance before another guy got to her first. I glanced over a Ryan.

  “I’m gonna buy her a drink.” I nodded toward the blond-haired beauty.

  He raised his bottle. “Like I said—sangry.”

  “Dick.”

  I grabbed my beer and walked over to take the seat next to her. She barely glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and brought the glass to her lips. As aloof as she was playing it, I was positive I saw a slight smirk at the corner of her mouth before she took a sip.

  “You made tonight worth coming out for. Can I buy you another drink?”

  She lifted her almost full glass and gave it a shake, all without looking at me.

  Okay, that had been a dumb question.

  “Fair enough. You can’t blame me for missing your full glass. I’d much rather look at you.” She continued to face forward but I wasn’t done yet. There was no way I was striking out with the guys watching me. I noticed the birds tattooed along her shoulder.

  “Your artist does excellent work. I’ve been looking for a good place since I moved here. What’s their name? I’d loved to check them out.”

  That caught her attention. A smile curved her lips and she turned slowly, eyes sparking.

  Finally.

  Her sapphire eyes moved to mine and she froze. Time seemed to stop as I got caught in her gaze; at least, until the liquid from her drink snapped me back to reality as it hit me in the face.

  I sputtered, wiping a hand down my face to clear my eyes. By the time I managed to focus on anything, the only thing visible was her back as she left through the door by the stage.

  Grabbing a napkin from the bar, I stood up and wiped the rest of the liquor from my face. When I opened my eyes again, the drummer stood in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. He shoved my shoulder, pushing my back against the bar. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

  Not exactly how I expected things to go when I hit on a girl. I held my hands up, wanting to avoid a fight. “I only asked about where she got her tattoos done so I could check the place out and add to my own.” I lifted the sleeve of my shirt to show the design that wrapped around my bicep.

  His brows drew down, confusion clear on his face. I kept my palms up, not wanting to antagonize the guy as I braced, waiting for his reaction. Any kind of physical altercation would cost me my job.

  Great, I was going to get into a fight the first time I went out in ages, and lose the one job I liked almost as much as playing football.

  But the guy said nothing. He turned on his heel and took the same path Mari had taken earlier. I turned to look back at the guys. Ryan shrugged his shoulders. Trevor was on his feet, his eyes on where the drummer had exited, stage left.

  Everybody in the place was fucking crazy.

  CHAPTER 3

  Mari

  It couldn’t be. There was no way in hell the Cosmos could be so cruel as to let me have the performance of my life, only to be faced with one of the people I hoped to never see again.

  But there was no denying it.

  Cole Wallace was here.

  The room that only hours ago seemed small now seemed minuscule, like the walls were closing in on me.

  Five years.

  Five years I’d spent trying to push every memory of him out of my head. To reinvent myself. To become a woman I was proud of. And the night that everything could change—the night things could finally go my way—Cole had to step into the same bar.

  Mariloon.

  Mariloon.

  A light knock rapped against the door. I pulled my legs tighter against me, pushing myself closer to the wall, hoping whoever it was would go away. The knock grew louder, until the person was pounding on the door. Each thud sent a tremor through my body.

  “Mari, open the goddamn door. I know you’re in there.”

  I buried my face in the protective embrace of my arms, ignoring Sawyer, memories of the worst years of my life assaulting my brain even as I tried to keep them at bay.

  I glanced at my phone. Shit, I was going to be late to class if I didn’t hurry. Turning down a side hallway, I picked up my pace. It was the long way around, but it meant I didn’t have to take the main hallway, past where the cheerleaders and football players hung out between classes.

  The bell rang.

  “Damn it.”

  “Aww, late for class?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose. These hallways were normally empty.

  My stomach dropped, but I ignored the voice and moved even faster. A hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me to a stop.

  “You’re already late. Stay. Have some fun.”

  With a shove, I was pushed up against the lockers behind me. My heart raced in my chest. I tried to control the shaking of my hands as I lifted my eyes to see which one of the jocks had decided to torture me today.

  Sam Horton.

  He lifted a hand to brush the hair from my face. I flinched at the contact.

  “Look at that, Cole, she doesn’t look happy to see us.”

/>   Over Sam’s shoulder, I could see Cole leaning against the lockers on the other side of the hallway.

  Sam leaned in and I pressed my cheek to the locker, the metal cool against my heated skin. I closed my eyes, afraid he was going to try and kiss me. There was a long pause before he laughed, cruelly.

  “Did you actually think I would kiss you?” He sneered. “Why in the hell would I let these lips touch a freak like you? No guy in this school wants to put any part of their body near you, Mariloon.”

  Cole burst out laughing. Sam stepped back, tilting his head down the hall. “Let’s go. I don’t need a detention.”

  They started to move away and I felt my shoulders sag. They weren’t out of earshot, though. Still close enough for me to hear Cole say, “Just tell them Mariloon tried to kiss you and you had to stop her before you could get to class.”

  My knees buckled and I slid down the lockers to the floor, tears racing down my cheeks. The sound of footsteps forced me to my feet and into the nearest bathroom. I raced inside the stall, slamming the lock across and sitting on the seat, my head in my hands, sobs racking my whole body. How could I go to class now? There was no doubt everyone would know what happened by now, and exactly like Cole said, it would be all my fault. They probably told everyone that I came on to Sam, hoping to sleep my way to the popular group. It was just the same as always.

  The door slammed into the wall, the handle leaving a crack in the drywall, and Sawyer stalked into the room. His eyes widened and he dropped to kneel in front of me.

  “What the fuck happened, Mari?”

  I shook my head, unable to force the words past the lump in my throat. He pressed a finger under my chin, lifting my face.

  “Did that asshole say something? Am I going back out there to kick the shit out of him?”

  “No, don’t do that. He didn’t say anything. I just needed a minute,” I choked out.

  His eyes bored into me. “You are a terrible liar. Fess up right now. What the hell happened?”

  I sucked in breath after breath. Sawyer knew that my high school experience wasn’t the greatest. I told him about being bullied, but I never told him how bad it had gotten. He’d likely assumed it was the typical jocks vs. geeks kind of bullying. He didn’t know half of the things I’d spent the last six years trying to purge from my memory. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell anyone about some of the most humiliating moments of my life.