Filthy Forward : A Hero Club Novel

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  Or maybe I was wrong and he is a bad guy. At the very least, he’s a major asshole.

  “Well, you can’t sleep around on me if we’re not together. Goodbye, Ben. I hope you work through your shit. And if you really want to stoop low, Sam is downstairs waiting for you.”

  I slam the door on the way out and run down the stairs. When I push out the door, I inhale a deep breath of fresh air. Tatum’s car pulls up in the next instant and I hop in. I fire off a few quick texts to my friends to let them know what happened and then I focus on my coach.

  “Thank you for getting me.” My voice shakes and his face softens just a hair.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod. I am now.

  “Can you take me home?” He pulls away and makes the short trek to the house. He parks the car and when he turns it off, I spin around to face him.

  “What are you doing?” Why did he turn off the car?

  “Walking you inside.” He doesn’t make a move to get out of the car and neither do I. I feel safe in here and I want to revel in this feeling for another minute.

  “Do I need to yell at you about drinking again?”

  “No, I think I’m done with it for good.” I shudder and my hand rubs up my arm to where Ben had gripped me. I’ll probably have bruises there tomorrow.

  I reach for the handle and he does the same on his side. He runs around the front of the car to help me to the house since I’m unsteady on my feet. I guess the alcohol kicked in pretty strong after all.

  “You don’t need to help me inside. I’m okay from here,” I tell him as I dig in my purse for my keys to unlock the door.

  “I want to make sure you’re okay. You sounded upset on the phone. Almost…scared, and I don’t want to leave you alone now.” My heart thaws toward him at his admission.

  I nod and swallow back the tears threatening to spill. I don’t know what would’ve happened if Tatum hadn’t called me when he did.

  “Why did you call me, anyway?”

  “I was going to see if you wanted to join me for a run. I like to run late at night, when everything is empty and quiet. It helps me clear my head.”

  “I don’t think I can.” He laughs though I wasn’t trying to be funny.

  “I know, Bria. I’m not asking you to run now. You need sleep.”

  He helps me up the stairs and I tell him where my bedroom is. I sit down on the bed and he leans on the doorjamb. There’s no way in hell I can sleep in jeans and without giving it a second thought, I start undressing.

  “Bria,” he exhales and spins around. Truth be told, I forgot he was still standing there.

  “Sorry, Coach.” I’m not sure why he’s not leaving, but I’m also a little glad he’s not.

  “Want me to call your boyfriend? Maybe he should be here helping you instead.”

  I scoff. “I would need to find a boyfriend for you to call. I broke up with that dickhead.”

  “Already?”

  I nod, forgetting he can’t see me. After getting dressed, I sit back on my bed and lean my head against the wall. I’m not drunk, but close to it.

  “You can turn around now.” I wouldn’t have minded if he watched me the whole time.

  Even if Ben wasn’t a major douchewad and didn’t cross the line tonight, things were never going to work out between us. He only elicits feelings of hurt and distrust in me.

  He doesn’t make me so angry I want to scream. He doesn’t torment me and get my blood boiling for the hell of it. He doesn’t push me to be better and to surpass any limits I thought my body had. And he sure as shit doesn’t look like a sexy soccer God—not like the man standing in front of me.

  There was no passion between me and Ben. But with Tatum? A deluge wouldn’t be able to put out the fire between Tatum and me.

  His arms are crossed over his chest and a sexy smirk pulls at his lips. His hair is a pure mess, as if it’s sex hair and someone has been pulling on it all night. A bitter pull of jealousy punches me in the chest.

  I can’t deny my attraction to him a moment longer and I don’t want to. It’s exhausting. Anyone with a pair of eyes would find him attractive, mixed with the confidence and his skill on the field and the cockiness everywhere else? Yeah, no one stands a chance against Tatum Trevino.

  “You never finished showing me your tattoos.” I’m feeling brazen. I guess the alcohol lowered my inhibitions after all.

  My eyes glide over his body wishing I knew what he looked like underneath his clothes. He’s only wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt; so few layers covering him up.

  “I think you’re drunk,” he tells me but takes a step closer.

  His eyebrows pull in and it’s obvious he’s at war with his thoughts. This time, his eyes trail over me, starting at my bare feet and lingering a bit too long on my tiny plaid PJ shorts and the tank top covering my chest.

  “I’m not drunk. I promise.” I lick my lips and lean forward.

  “Bria,” he warns. His voice is gravelly.

  “Tatum,” I reply on a whisper.

  He walks toward me slowly. He’s hesitant and I’m afraid if I make any sudden movements, he’ll run away.

  I sit up on my knees and watch as his eyes rake over me from the top down. His gaze conveys his struggle and I don’t make it any easier on him.

  He stops short of my bed and shakes his head. “Go to bed, Bria. I’ll see you at practice in the morning.”

  “Wait,” I reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him from leaving. I’m as bad as Ben. The thought burns my mind and I drop his wrist like a hot poker, but the damage is done.

  Tatum looks at his wrist, the one I had wrapped in my hand a mere second ago, before glancing back to me. He invades my space and he looks pissed. He looks down at me, and from this angle, I know damn well he can see down my tank top. I know he can tell I’m not wearing a bra.

  “Fuck it,” he says.

  He closes the distance between us. His hands wrap in my hair and he leans down, his mouth connecting with mine. I moan into his open mouth and he gives me everything. My tongue connects with his and he tastes fresh like spearmint.

  My hands find his sides and I tug my body against his. My nipples harden, rubbing against the fabric of my tank, wishing he were giving them attention.

  I want to stand, to jump into his arms and wrap my body around his. I want to push all the covers on my bed aside and have him join me on this tiny twin mattress. I want him to do all the dirty things to me I can think of and more. When I reach for his waistband, he jumps away like I burned him.

  “I should go.” He runs a hand through his raven locks and backs away. “I’m sorry.” I’m embarrassed and the stab of rejection slices through me.

  He all but runs out of my room without another glance. I hear his feet pounding down the stairs, and next thing I know, the front door opens and shuts and I’m left here alone.

  The rollercoaster of tonight plays in my mind and I can’t stop the tears from spilling over. I crawl under my covers and though I want to forget everything, I don’t pray for sleep.

  With sleep comes morning and then I’ll have to face Tatum after embarrassing myself to no end. Though tonight was one of the worst nights I’ve had in a while, I don’t want it to end.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bria

  When my alarm goes off, I notice a missed text. I assume it’s one of my friends or Ben trying to apologize, but I’m shocked to realize it’s from Tatum.

  Tatum: No training this weekend. Get some rest. See you Monday.

  Well, that’s…unexpected. I put my phone down and roll over, falling back asleep in an instant. The next time I wake up isn’t nearly as pleasant.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Morgan’s bony ass is sitting on my side as she jumps to wake me up.

  “Seeing if you’re alive. I was worried about you last night.” My stomach drops for a second as she climbs off me and sits on the bed beside me.

  “Wh-why?” She doesn’t know anyth
ing…does she?

  “You disappeared and sent me a vague text saying you were heading home. You’ve been radio silent ever since.”

  I exhale. “Right, sorry. I broke up with Ben, again, because he’s an asshole and, yeah, I know, you told me so. Then I got a ride home and crashed.”

  “Good, you deserve better than him anyway. But why are you here? Are you sick? Shouldn’t you be training?”

  “Tatum canceled it.” Saying his name causes my stomach to do tiny flips of excitement. Was last night real? Did it really happen? Part of me wants to confide in my roommate, to get her opinion on it all and see what she thinks. But the larger part of me knows I shouldn’t tell anyone, not even my best friend.

  Luckily, Morgan doesn’t notice the vacillation occurring in my head and squeals with excitement instead.

  “Yay! Girls’ day. You, me, Lindsay, maybe Syd? We should do shopping and lunch. What do you say?”

  I should agree and go. I haven’t had much girl time and this is our last year together. I should be with them constantly, making memories to last a lifetime.

  But I want to check in with Tatum. I want to see why he canceled training, if it has anything to do with what happened last night. I want to get in his head, to know what he’s thinking and feeling and if any of it aligns with what’s going on in my head.

  “Sure, but can you give me like, an hour or so? I have an errand I need to run first.”

  “An errand? You sound like my mom. Why don’t you just do it while we’re out?” She tilts her head, studying me, and I need to come up with a quick lie.

  “I need to run to the pharmacy, okay? And I’d rather go alone.” She nods. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back and I’ll pick you guys up.”

  I get out of bed and rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth and make myself look somewhat presentable. I throw on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, knotting it at the bottom to make it more fitted. I throw on my converse and head out the door.

  My nerves are rattling as I get in my car when I realize my dumbass mistake: I don’t know where Tatum lives or where he would even be right now. How can I talk to him if I can’t find him?

  On a whim, I drive to the soccer field, thinking there’s a possibility he’s there. With luck, I spot his car. It’s the sole vehicle in the parking lot, but I don’t see him on the field. Instead, I’d bet he’s in the field house in his office. I park my car and hop out, rushing into the building.

  I walk down the concrete hallway, listening for any noise to indicate I’m not here alone, but none comes. I see his door is open as I approach and I stand on my tip-toes to get a better view. Using the slight edge, I’m able to see he’s sitting at his desk, pen poised in his right hand.

  I stop my movements and lean back against the cool wall to calm myself. What if the kiss was all a dream or all in my head? Then I say something stupid and he has no idea what I’m talking about? But why else would he cancel practice?

  I plaster on a confident, albeit fake smile and strut to the office. I knock on the door and lean into the doorjamb. We’re opposites of last night, when he was the one leaning on the door.

  “What are you doing here, Bria?” His tone catches me off guard.

  “I came to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  Is he that dense? I can’t come right out and say it.

  I walk into the office and close the door. He watches it happen and though his jaw clenches, he doesn’t stop me.

  “I, uh, was wondering why you canceled training.” I swallow thickly and take a seat across from him on the opposite side of his desk.

  He places the pen down and folds his hands in front of him. I take in his appearance. There are bags under his eyes and his hair is a wild mess. His long-sleeved t-shirt clings to his body and my eyes trail down though they’re unable to see anything else thanks to the desk between us.

  “Because I thought you could use a break, and frankly, so could I.”

  I’m not going to get anywhere with him like this, not unless I address the elephant in the room directly. Butterflies invade my stomach as I gather the courage to mention the unmentionable.

  “I thought it might have something to do with what happened last night.”

  His eyes flit to mine in an instant and he sighs. “In part, it does. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  “Like a relationship? Trust me, I know you’re not that type of guy.”

  “Not a relationship, Bria. Not anything. What happened was a massive lapse of judgment and a huge mistake. It can never happen again and you can’t tell anyone about it.”

  He’s chillingly cool, his words icy and harsh, slicing through me like daggers. I wasn’t expecting flowers and chocolate, but I was hoping for better than this. No one wants to be called a mistake.

  I stand and run a nonchalant hand through my golden hair. I plaster on a fake smile and pray he doesn’t see right through me.

  “Understood. Sorry for bothering you.” I back away and he calls my name. Damn my watery voice.

  It’s not like I’m in love with the guy or anything. I barely even like him on a good day. Yet, being rejected by him was a knife to the chest and I’m flooded with embarrassment.

  I refuse to turn back to him and instead walk down the hallway with a cool, unaffected sway of my hips. At the very least he should see what he’s missing.

  I call Morgan as I’m on my way home, telling her to be ready so I can pick them up and head to the mall.

  After driving around for thirty minutes trying to find a parking spot—damn back to school shoppers—we’re finally walking into our first store at the outlets, and it’s not one I’d ever willingly go into alone, but Morgan insisted. I don’t think this place sells enough fabric to cover a normal person’s ass, but that’s kind of my best friend’s MO.

  “I’m trying this on.” Morg dashes to the back of the store to the dressing rooms. I’m a little surprised this place has fitting rooms considering how tiny the fabric is. It’s essentially lingerie.

  “So, what happened with Ben?” Lindsay comes up beside me, flipping through the sales rack to my right.

  “He’s a dick and I’m never going back to him again.” She looks at me like, duh, so I toss her a bone. “He got a little physical and nothing happened but he wasn’t himself last night. I don’t know who he was and I don’t plan to find out.”

  “I’ll kill him.” Morgan comes back wearing her scrap of fabric and the look on her face truly is murderous.

  “It’s fine, really. I think he almost felt bad about it, I don’t know. It was weird and I’m done talking about it.” I look at each of them and they nod in agreement, thank God.

  We go back to browsing through the store when Lindsay squeals from across the room.

  “Oh, shit, you need to try this on,” she says as she holds out a slinky silver dress.

  “It would look great on you,” I tell Morgan, but she shakes her head.

  “Hell, no, girl. We mean you need to try it on.” My mouth falls open and I shake my head so fast I give myself a headache.

  “Absolutely not.” Their smiles are saccharine and I feel a push from behind me. Syd is literally shoving me toward the garment with a smirk.

  “Just try it on. We’re not going to make you buy it,” Syd says.

  “Unless you look hot,” Morgan adds.

  I oblige with a groan and snatch the hanger out of Lindsay’s hand. I find the small fitting area and all but slam the little wooden door shut. I hear my three friends right outside waiting for me to try the dress on.

  I pull off my jeans and tug my t-shirt over my head. You can’t wear a bra with this dress but I refuse to try it on without one.

  I tug the slinky and soft fabric down my body and a quiet gasp leaves my mouth. I won’t lie—the dress hugs me in all the right places, accentuating my muscles and conforming to the few curves I have.

  “Come out! We wanna see!” Morgan’s yelling seems to
have brought on the attention of one of the salesladies. I hear her through the door, asking if we need any help, but Morg sends her away.

  I roll my eyes and unlock the door. Stepping out, my friends all affirm what I already knew. I look damn good. Their eyes bug out of their heads and a smirk pulls at my roommate’s lips.

  “You’re buying that dress,” she tells me.

  I glance down at the price tag and now it’s my turn for my eyes to bulge. No freaking way.

  “This thing is a hundred and ten bucks. It’s basically a napkin! I am not spending over one hundred dollars on a freaking scrap of fabric.”

  I’m not made of money and I don’t have a part-time job. I can’t waste the few bucks I do have on frivolous things like pretty dresses I’ll probably never wear.

  My friends start to argue with me, but I slam the dressing room door in their faces. When I come out, I hang the dress on the discard rack and step out, going back to the sales area. The dress was a little too fancy and slutty for me anyway.

  Lindsay, Syd, and I wait as Morgan makes her purchase, but she comes over to us carrying two bags. She hands me one and I glance at it confused until the thought sinks in.

  “Morgan, no.”

  “Yes. You deserve this and it would be a crime if you left the store without it. Take it—no takesy-backsies.” I hug her and whisper a thank you into her ear.

  While I have a single mom trying to support me and got into college on a full-ride soccer scholarship, Morgan is loaded and spoiled. There are many times I envy her life, but I wouldn’t trade my mom for anyone else’s either.

  We shop around some more and I only leave with a new pair of soccer shorts and, of course, my new dress. My friends carry bags of their own and we toss them in my trunk before heading to grab lunch.

  We stop at the restaurant by campus where we sit outside and are quick to order, each of us opting for water and a salad. I take a large bite of my spinach when Morgan’s face lights up across from me. She makes a big deal about waving to whoever it is until they come over.

  “Hey, Coach.” I choke on my food when she says those words. Please, God, let it be Paxton. I glance up and discover I’m not so lucky.