by Alley Ciz
“Would it be easier if I went with you?”
Both brothers stare at me in shock, and if I’m not mistaken, Trav looks mildly proud.
“I get that there’s no professional cheerleading like football.” I put a hand on Olly’s shoulder, offering support. “But you know there is collegiate potential”—he’s JT’s prodigy—“and Livi cheers, so your dad can’t be completely against the sport.”
“Are you sure, Skittles?” The hope shining in Mason’s eyes has me swallowing down the ball of anxiety rising in my throat.
“Why not? You do owe me a date, after all.”
His dimples come out in full force, and the last of my reservations fall away.
“Who needs flowers and candy when you can enjoy a nice serving of family drama?” He pushes to stand, my eyes falling to watch the way his muscles move under the cotton clinging to them as he rounds the couch to wrap an arm around my middle. “You sure?”
No, but the PF is out of the bag, so I nod yes anyway.
“Holy shit.” The curse slips past my lips of its own accord.
“Yup.” Mason pops his P with a chuckle. “That’s exactly the reaction Brantley was going for,” he says as the Shelby pulls through two ornate lion statues bookending the entrance to the long driveway.
E’s home in Baltimore cost a chunk of his signing bonus when he purchased it, but this? Oh boy, this is a whole other level of wealth. The massive gray stone mansion with its large white columns is gorgeous, but it screams “MONEY” in a way E’s never will.
Before we can make it to the front door, it opens to reveal a worried-looking Grace Roberts. As she rushes out to pull Olly into a hug, I still can’t believe her kids are Mason’s siblings.
“I understand why you left, but why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” she scolds her son.
“Sorry, Mom. I texted Livi.”
“That’s the only reason I’m not grounding you.” She releases Olly and stretches up to kiss Mason on the cheek. “Hi, sweetheart. Thanks for bringing him home.”
“Of course,” he says with a small smile.
“Come on into the house, boys. Your father is in his office. We’ll figure this all out. You’re not quitting NJA if you don’t want to, Olly.”
“Thanks.” Olly’s shoulders sag in relief.
During the exchange, I’ve gone unnoticed, one of the side effects of being under five feet, but once Mason turns to take my hand, Grace’s eyes land on me for the first time.
“PF, honey, is that you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Roberts.”
“Oh, dear, I thought I told you to call me Grace.”
“Yes, sorry.” I can’t help but grin. This may only be Olly’s first year with NJA, but his sister transferred to our gym over a year ago. In one season, Grace Roberts has managed to become one of my favorite NJA parents.
“Not that this isn’t a pleasant surprise, but what are you doing here?”
My heels click-clack across the marble title of a foyer so large I think my entire dorm could fit inside. Mason guides me through it and down a long hallway filled with what I can only assume are priceless works of art, heading toward the kitchen in the back. I’m too distracted by the grandeur around me to concentrate on Grace’s question.
“She was with Mase when he came to bring me home,” Olly answers for me.
“Really?” She arches a brow.
Seeing Grace and Mason side by side, I notice the similarities in them. Whereas the twins have black hair and deep brown eyes, she shares the same espresso-colored locks—hers perfectly styled in a sleek bob—and those seafoam green irises that hold me in their spell. It’s so obvious they are related. Did I try so hard to ignore the things Mason makes me feel I never made the connection?
“They were on a date.”
Grace’s jaw falls open, clearly not expecting that as the answer, but before anyone else can say anything, a dark-haired figure I recognize as Livi rushes into the room and launches herself at her twin.
“Coach?” She blinks at me with her arms still wrapped around Olly.
“Hey, Livi.”
“Why are you in my house?”
“She’s Mase’s girlfriend,” Olly says gleefully.
“WHAT!” Livi and Grace exclaim together.
Livi pulls back, and her shocked gaze snaps to her older brother while her mother pauses from pulling drinking glasses down, a similar look on her face.
A blush heats my cheeks at their scrutiny.
“I didn’t realize that word was part of your vocabulary,” Grace jokes.
“Nice, Mom,” Mason groans.
“Shut up! Really? This is so awesome.” Livi jumps up and down in excitement.
“So…” Grace circles a finger at where Mason has pulled me down to snuggle into his side on one of the built-in bench seats surrounding the kitchen table. “Small world, you two dating.”
The smallest. As if dating Mason didn’t carry a dangerous weight with respect to how I choose to live my life now, being connected to both sides of me could prove catastrophic.
Before either of us get a chance to answer, the twins start to lob more questions at us, each one tripping over the other in their hunt for information.
“What’s going on in here?” a voice booms, bringing the buzz in the kitchen crashing down like a dropped stunt.
“Sweetheart.” Grace rises from her chair, going to her husband.
“Mason? What are you doing home? You have a game tomorrow.”
I take a moment to study Brantley Roberts while his attention is elsewhere. He still has a full head of black hair, even if it’s sprinkled with salt, and despite it being a Friday evening, he is wearing dress slacks and a white Oxford shirt.
“Just bringing Olly back.”
If I thought Brantley Roberts looked unhappy when he made his appearance, he now takes a turn toward displeased when he spots me under Mason’s arm.
Ooo, somebody has a stick up their butt, my inner cheerleader whispers behind her hand.
“And who’s this?”
“Mase’s girlfriend,” Livi says with a hint of bragging in her tone. She and Olly crack me up.
“Girlfriend?” Brantley’s dark brows hit the hairline of his carefully combed locks.
“Sweetheart.” Grace directs him to the open chair next to hers. “This is PF. She coaches the twins.”
“Coaches? Is this about the cheerleading bullshit you have in your head?”
Did I say he looks displeased? Now he’s downright sour. If the way I feel Mason’s delicious muscles tighten against me is any indication, I’m not the only one picking up on the hostility pulsing off his stepfather. Talk about making a good impression on the family, huh?
“Dad,” Olly says.
“Don’t Dad me, young man. You are quitting this cheerleading thing and joining the football team like originally planned.”
“I like NJA.”
“There’s no future in cheerleading.”
“Yes there is, Dad.”
“Not professionally.”
“I don’t want to play professional ball. I don’t love it like Mase does.”
“What about college?”
“Like paying for college was ever going to be an issue,” Olly scoffs sarcastically. “Besides, if I get good enough, I can go for cheerleading.”
“Dad.” Livi tries to ease the tension. Thank god, because this is starting to get awkward. “You support me cheering.”
There’s a stretch of silence. The whole reason I came is because I offered to help. Time to do that.
“Sir, your son is good—really good. He’s a natural, one of the best talents I’ve seen since my old partner, who is on a full ride at Kentucky.” Olly’s jaw hits the table as if he can’t believe I’ve compared him to JT. It’s not a lie though.
Brantley looks to Olly, a hint of pride bleeding into his eyes before he folds his arms on top of the table and turns all his attention on me.
Uh-oh
.
#Chapter32
I recognize Brantley’s shark side the instant he switches it on. It’s always been impressive to witness, but I don’t like seeing it turned on my girl.
“Dad.” It doesn’t surprise me that Livi is trying to play mediator. No one has Olly’s back the way she does. “The main reason I tried out for the Admirals was to work with Coach.”
I’m still reeling over the fact that Kay is even a cheerleader. She lives with three members of the Red Squad—how has this never come up?
“Okay then. What makes you qualified?”
I run a hand down Kay’s arm, linking our fingers together and giving them a squeeze. When she offered to come to support Olly, I was floored, but now I’m regretting accepting the offer. Getting the third degree from my stepdad is far from the first date I had planned.
Then, shocking me, Kay squares her shoulders. The way her features transform and confidence pours off of her is new. It’s also hot as hell, and I need to not focus on that or I’ll be popping an erection in front of my entire family. Talk about awkward.
“I’ve been cheering at NJA since I was three years old, competing since I was five, and I became a member of the Admirals as soon as I was old enough to meet the age requirement at twelve. Not counting the titles with prior teams, I’ve won dozens of national championships and five Worlds titles as a member of the Admirals. Outside of being a member of one of the top large senior six co-ed teams of the last decade, I also have four Worlds titles in partner stunting.”
Kay ticks off each of her accolades with her fingers, and with how long Livi has been cheering, I know these aren’t small achievements. Why does she keep them a secret?
The twins are both bouncing in their seats, and I can tell they are itching to add their two cents. If we are going to have any hope of salvaging any semblance of this date before I have to report to the hotel, we need to leave before they start.
“Come on, Skittles.” Holding her hand, I pull her from the bench. “Like you said…I still owe you a date.”
We say our goodbyes, and as we head for the front door, I tuck her against my side, relishing these moments of her allowing me this close.
“How do you feel about pizza?” I ask when we get to the Shelby.
“It’s only one of the major food groups.”
“Damn, babe.” I hug her close then open the passenger side door. “Once again proving you’re perfect for me.”
Those seductive red lips part, and I reach out and run a thumb over the bottom one. I want to see them wrapped around my cock more than my next breath. That’s not surprising, but what is unexpected is how much I meant it when I said she’s perfect for me.
Adjusting boner number who-knows-I’ve-lost-count of the night, I climb inside the Shelby and shift it into drive.
Villa Pizza is about five minutes from campus and is a tiny hole-in-the-wall type of place. Ninety percent of their business is takeout deliveries to U of J students, but they do have a few tables for any lunch or late-night stranglers who wander in.
Kay and I each order a soda and two slices before settling at one of the high-tops next to the front window.
“Okay.” I rub my hands together. “I have so many questions, but first, why don’t you tell people you’re a cheerleader?”
Her eyes drop to the left, the condensation running down her glass her sole focus.
“Can’t be questioned about why you don’t cheer for a school with a top team if they don’t know you have the background.”
“You get asked that?”
She nods, not adding anything else on the subject, so I let it drop.
“Okay, next one. How the hell do you get PF as a nickname from Kayla?”
She gives a cute little chuckle and swallows. “How do you know about that?”
“That’s how everyone referred to you tonight. Plus, Livi’s talked about you…a lot.”
“I still can’t believe my twins are your twins.”
Spicy pepperoni and tangy tomato sauce explode across my tongue. I do like how she considers my family hers.
“It’s short for PF Flyer.”
“Like the sneakers from The Sandlot?”
“Yup.”
“Okay, one”—I hold up a finger—“makes no sense for your nickname to be longer than your real name so I get why they use just PF. And two”—I add a second finger—“not quite sure I get the reference. Explain.”
She fiddles with the straw in her cup. “So, JT”—she waits for my nod of recognition—“and I have cheered together our whole lives and have been stunt partners since the beginning.”
A pause for more pizza.
“We used to love The Sandlot, watched it all the time, and seven-year-old JT thinks he’s sooo clever when he goes, ‘Hey Kay, you’re awesome like those sneakers and a flyer too. From now on, you’ll be known as PF,’ and ever since, I’ve been PF at the gym.”
“You know, it’s funny.” I drop a hand to her knee where it touches mine under the table.
“What is?” She does this cute head tilt, her long hair falling around her shoulders.
“That I feel like I have to compete with my siblings for who likes you more.”
It’s totally cheesy, but when one of her pretty blushes stains her cheeks, it’s worth the shit my inner coach will be slinging my way later.
“I still can’t believe I didn’t know they were related to you.”
“To be fair, we have different last names.”
“True. But now, seeing you with your mom”—she reaches across the table and caresses my brow with her thumb—“you have the same eyes.”
I wiggle my eyebrows, making her laugh.
“They’re beautiful, you know.” Her unexpected compliment catches me off guard.
“My eyes?”
“Yeah. They’re such a striking contrast against your darker features.”
“Wow.” I fall back against my chair.
“What?”
“You just paid me a compliment.”
Her face breaks out into a grin. “Don’t get used to it.”
I let out a bark of laughter. This girl. She’s just what I need.
We talk a little longer as we finish our pizza before leaving to head back to campus.
I pull my car up in front of her building, parking in the fire zone instead of finding a spot.
I grab what I left in the back seat and get out of the car, going around to her side to open the door. Once she’s out, I close it and press her up against it. I wrap my arms around her waist, resting my hands on the top swell of her delectable ass, and pull her tighter against me. I love the feel of her tiny but curvy body pressed against my much larger frame. She fills a void I wasn’t aware existed.
“I’m going to say goodbye to you here.”
Her beautiful gray eyes look up at me, unsure, a little V forming between her brows. “Why?”
“Because.” I tighten my arms, pressing us closer. “I need to be at the hotel soon. If I walk you to your door, I’m gonna stay…” I brush my nose against hers. “Coach would have my ass.” I drag my nose along her cheek and behind her ear, placing a gentle kiss in the soft spot there. “Besides…” I nudge her hair out of the way and continue my kisses down her neck. “You need to be up early to coach”—I lean in and whisper—“cheerleading.”
And there it is, one of those eye rolls I adore so much.
“You’re coming to the game tomorrow, right?”
I don’t know why, but her answer, to this, feels really important.
“Yeah, I usually go with G and CK.”
“You guys sit in the student section?”
“Yeah.” Her look says Duh.
“How about an upgrade?”
“What do you mean?”
“My family has a box, so the tickets I get are always available. How about you use them? Fourth row on the fifty-yard line, behind the team bench.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “For real?”
I nod. I want her there, where I can see her.
After a moment, her happy expression falls. “Don’t you only get two tickets?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I can’t use them. I’m not going to choose between G and CK.”
“You don’t have to, babe.” I palm her ass and she squirms in my hold. “Trav’s family sits with mine, so you can have his tickets too.”
“Oh my god!”
She throws her arms around my neck, hugging me. When she pulls back, I move one of my hands behind her head and angle it for my kiss.
I feel her rise up onto her toes as her arms tighten while our lips meet. I can’t help but smile as we do. The more often I kiss her, the less hesitant she becomes.
I force myself to break away before I go back on everything I said earlier.
“I’ll see you tomorrow after the game.”
“Okay.” Her voice comes out all breathy.
She pushes off the car and moves toward the door of the building.
“Hey, babe.” I stop her before she gets too far.
I reach for the hoodie I tossed on the roof of the Shelby and hold it out to her.
“Wear this to the game tomorrow.”
She takes my red team hoodie and raises one of her sculpted brows.
“I know what this is.”
Of course she does.
“Good. Then you know why I want you to wear it.”
She holds it out in front of her, the back facing her, my name and number looking back. She’s bucked almost every attempt I’ve made to stake my claim publicly. It’s time for that to end.
“I hate you.” The smile she gives me takes all the sting out of her words.
“Sure you do, babe.”
#Chapter33
Memories of last night have been playing on a loop in my brain since I collapsed on my bed when I got home. I still can’t believe any of it was real.
I went on a date with a football player, and not just any ol’ football player. No, I decided to break my self-imposed rule with none other than Mason ‘Casanova’ Nova himself.