Filthy Forward : A Hero Club Novel

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I feel manipulated and lied to. In a sense, I feel like he’s been playing me this whole time. You know his history. Maybe this was his plan from day one. Why else would he single me out from everyone else? Do I have a target on my back reading ‘Fuckboys Wanted?’”

  “Bri, you can’t think like that. All the shit you’ve been though—none of it is your fault. Even if Tatum is the world’s biggest douche canoe, that’s on him. What you need now is—”

  “Do not say a party or a rebound or anything else of the sort. Please.”

  “I wasn’t. I was going to say you need your best friends.”

  “No, we can’t tell Lindsay. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”

  “Fine, I won’t tell her. Let’s go home and watch some bad reality TV. We can turn our phones off and eat junk food and have a girl’s night in.”

  “That sounds perfect.” She smiles at me and moves the car into reverse. “Morg,” she looks over at me. “Thank you.”

  “What are best friends for? Also, if I kick a ball into his nuts at practice, I swear it’s purely coincidental.”

  For the first time all day, I laugh. God, I love my best friend.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Tatum

  My leg is bouncing under the diner’s table hard and fast. My knee bumps the underside and I manage to rattle my coffee sitting in front of me enough for little droplets to cascade down the side of the cup.

  Grabbing a napkin, I swipe at the mess. It probably would’ve been smarter to order something without caffeine in it seeing as I’m already antsy enough. But considering it’s nine in the morning and alcohol is off the table, coffee was the next best option.

  I’m facing the entrance and every time the doors pull open, I hold my breath. There’s no preparing for what is about to happen, but I trick myself into thinking I’m ready for this.

  The reality, on one hand, is I want to get it over with. But the other part of me is excited by the prospect of what today could bring. It could solve every problem currently resting on my plate or it could bring them all to fruition and become the final nail in my coffin.

  This time when the door pulls open, the blonde girl I recognize walks into the restaurant. She has a few more curves on her compared to when I saw her last, but overall she looks the same. I was expecting her to be carrying a baby or pushing a stroller or something, but the only things she’s holding are her purse and phone.

  Amanda spots me right away, but her expression doesn’t change. She’s stoic and once her sunglasses are pushed up onto her head, I notice her eyes scanning the room. She’s looking for a trap, but she won’t find one here. She can’t, since no one knows I’m here.

  “Hi, Tatum.” She sits down across from me and the waitress comes right over. She orders lemon water as she hangs her purse over the back of her chair.

  “Hi, Amanda.” There’s no other word for it—this is awkward.

  “Why did you finally agree to meet with me? Are one of your many lawyers hanging around, ready to manipulate me or spin my words to make me appear unreliable? What’s your game here?”

  She crosses her arms over her chests and mutters a “thanks” to the waitress as her water is placed in front of her. She’s the one who has been calling me incessantly, but now she wants to know why we’re meeting up. If anything, I want to know why she’s been calling me.

  “Nobody else is here and no one even knows I’m here. Hell, I was highly advised against meeting with you, but once I heard the truth, I had to come. I want to meet him, Amanda.”

  Her face softens a bit at the mention of her son. Our son. I almost shudder at the thought. I never in a million years thought this is where I would be, which is pretty naïve. I have a history, after all. I’m no clergyman.

  “You better not be lying to me.” Her eyes scan the room one last time before she relaxes. “You’ll meet him, eventually, if you want to. But I can’t introduce you to him if you’re not going to be around. You’re either all in or you’re not in the picture.”

  “Well, you’ve pretty much ensured I’ll be sticking around here.” My tone is bitter, and for a minute I’m afraid I’ll anger her. But I can’t deny how pissed off I am at what she’s said, done, and put me through.

  To my surprise, she frowns and her brows pinch together. “I am sorry about everything. I know it may not seem like it, but I didn’t want you to get kicked off the team. I wanted to scare you…like how I was scared.”

  I’m not sure how she expects me to pay her when I no longer have a job, but we’ll cross that bridge later.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “I didn’t know how you’d react. I was terrified and alone. I—”

  “So, you threaten me by saying I assaulted you? Amanda, come on. You know that’s not true.” She nods and to my surprise, a tear glides down her cheek.

  “I’m so sorry, Tatum. Truly. I’ve gone about all of this the wrong way which is why I’m here and why I’ve been calling you. I want to fix all of it. I do need help, but I’m not going to go to the media and say you raped me. I couldn’t follow through. I didn’t want to take anything away from actual victims, and I didn’t want that label on either one of us. But even more importantly, I didn’t want Theo growing up and thinking he was the product of evil.”

  The weight of the world has lifted off my shoulders and my smile is both genuine and broad. “Thank you. I know you’re not doing it for me, but thank you.” She smiles and nods, almost bashful.

  “Do you want to see a picture of him?” She pushes her phone toward me and I take in the glowing picture of the little boy.

  In this picture, Theo has wide eyes and a smile. He has a full head of dark hair and is wearing a batman onesie.

  “He’s adorable.” We spend the next hour talking about Theo. We order food and I listen eagerly to every story she’s willing to share. She regales me with stories about the first four months of his life and his terrifying birth. For a baby, he’s had a wild journey already.

  She tells me he was born premature with a collapsed lung, like Aubrey said. “It was terrifying. They had to fly him to a special hospital because the one I gave birth in wasn’t equipped. The worst part was I wasn’t allowed to go with him. I was stuck in the hospital because I just gave birth and couldn’t be discharged. I made my mom go with him and send me every single update.”

  “I’m sorry you went through all of that. I can only imagine how scared you were.”

  “Thanks. It was pretty scary.” She pauses and glances up at me with a thoughtful look on her face. She pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear before speaking. “Do…do you want to meet him now? My mom has him right around the corner. They’ve been shopping. I told her to stay close by, in case this went well.” My eyes are wide at the prospect of not only meeting my son but also her mother. Who knows what she believes about me. “She knows the truth and nothing else.”

  I sigh in relief. “Yes, I want to meet him. Thank you, Amanda.” I pay for our food, but before we leave, I stop her. “I do need to ask you one last thing before we go. Um, I heard you already went to the media with the whole story.”

  “That was intentional. I have a friend who works at the news station, but everything she knows has been off the record. I was admittedly sick of dragging my feet and having to go through your lawyers. It’s why I’ve been calling you. I told my friend to hint at the story like they know something. Again, I’m sorry for how I’ve handled everything.”

  All the stress I’ve endured the past few weeks has all been because of planted stories. What the fuck. My anger wants to return, but I push it aside. I try to imagine her desperate and scared with a newborn. I don’t let my temper win. Instead, I blow out a breath and nod.

  “Okay. Let’s go meet Theo.”

  She smiles and leads the way.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Bria

  Another week passes and as promise
d, I was benched from the next fucking game. The game after that, I’m pissed off, but I make sure I have my head on straight and I kick some serious ass.

  I’ve been training by myself since my trainer is busy with his own problems. I get it, and I’m still hurt by him, but I can’t help but miss him and those moments we spent together. Even though half of the sessions were spent with me hating him, they helped me a lot. They pushed me more than I knew.

  One of the things hurting me most is giving up a dream I never knew I had or even wanted, thanks to Tatum. He picked me because he thought I could grow past collegiate soccer. He thought I was good enough to go pro, and for a while, I believed him. Now I don’t know what to believe. Were those just pretty words meant to force my hand? Did he ever believe in me or was I a target from day one?

  I never wanted to go pro. I never even gave it a thought until it was brought up to me. Now I feel like I’ve lost that possibility. No professional team is going to want a player who gets red carded and benched and has a relationship with her trainer slash assistant coach.

  I’ve lost a pipe dream I never thought was attainable until this year and now I’m hurt because of it. Fucking Tatum.

  “Bria, why don’t you come with us?”

  I’m burrowed on the couch watching How to be Single with a pint of rocky road ice cream in my hand. My hair is in a Cindy Lou Who-worthy messy bun and I’m in my comfiest pair of yoga pants.

  All of my friends are decked out in party clothes, ready to get drunk and make bad decisions. I don’t need to make any more bad decisions. In fact, I shouldn’t make any decisions for myself ever again.

  “Not tonight. I’m going to sit here and eat my ice cream and enjoy the quiet.”

  “Do you want me to stay with you?” my best friend offers, and I love her for the thought, but shake my head no.

  “No, please go. I want to be alone.” She opens her mouth to object, but I stop her. “Besides, I have an exam on Monday I need to study for and about ten other excuses I can come up with right now. Go. I’m fine.”

  “Okay, but text me if you need me. Love you, girl.” She blows me a kiss before heading outside just in time for the Uber to pick them up. I settle into the couch and enjoy both the movie and the quiet.

  My phone vibrates with a text, but I don’t answer it. It’s more than likely Morgan already checking up on me and begging me to change my mind. No, thank you.

  Another text comes through a few minutes later. Then a third. After ten minutes a call comes through. Curiosity gets the best of me and I glance at the screen. It’s not Morgan at all.

  “Hello?”

  “Bria, hey, thank God. Sorry for all the texts and whatever but I really need to talk to you. Are you busy?” Tatum’s husky voice is somehow both eager and wary. Thanks to his slight desperation, I’m dying to know what’s so important.

  We haven’t talked since I stormed out of his office. I haven’t forgiven him, and he wants to call me up and ask me to drop everything?

  What’s even worse is how bad I want to.

  “Yes, actually, I am busy. I’m—”

  “Please, let me explain. I only need five minutes.” I pray I don’t regret this.

  “Fine. Come over.” He hesitates and I sigh. “Everyone is out at a party. I’m home alone.” I hang up before he can argue. I’m not going to bend over backwards for him. If he’s as desperate as he sounds, he’ll put in the work.

  By the time I put my ice cream back in the freezer and walk back into the living room, there’s a knock on the door. Pulling it open, Tatum is there in all his handsome glory. His face splits into a broad smile the minute he sees me and my heart tugs to return the emotion.

  I take him in, from his messy hair to the white t-shirt that looks painted on. The sleeves are tight around his bicep and I trail my eyes down, taking in the ink I love so much covering his right arm. He’s wearing jeans, which disarms me. I’m used to seeing him in soccer shorts, but the denim hugging his thighs like a second skin works damn well for him.

  His eyes light up as he watches me ogle him without a care. Instead of acknowledging the moment, I step back and sweep my arm in, in a silent invitation.

  He paces like a mad man. His smile is bordering on crazy and his eyes sweep over me in need. I’m on the metaphorical edge of my seat, waiting for him to spit whatever it is the hell out.

  “Amanda’s dropping the charges. Well, the threat of the charges. You know what I mean. She backed down, which is why I was talking to her last week and why she’s been calling. I met up with her today to put everything on the table. God, Bria, I couldn’t wait to tell you. This changes everything. I’m going to get my job back and the media doesn’t actually know anything. It was all a bunch of bull she orchestrated.”

  “That’s awesome, Tatum. I’m happy for you.” My tone falls flat even to my own ears, but he’s too hyped up to notice.

  “After the day I had today, I needed to tell someone and I needed to celebrate. Everything is back on track and you’re the only person I wanted to tell.” He walks over to me and places his hands on my shoulders, sliding them down my arms until my hands are grasped in his.

  Gooseflesh pebbles my skin with the contact and I hate my body for giving me away. I wanted to remain indifferent and pissed, but his euphoria is addictive. His smile is contagious, lighting up this dim room, and I can’t help but want to walk into the light toward him, with him.

  For a moment, I push all the thoughts out of my mind. In times like this, I don’t see a manipulative man. Tatum is nothing like my father. If anything, he’s like me. He’s a little bit broken. Life dragged him through the mud and back, but he fought harder to get to where he is today. He made some bad choices, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t make him a bad guy.

  “I know things were messy when I saw you last. I’ve been distant and confused. I’ve been questioning everything, but I never for a second thought about pushing you out of my life. I would always wonder how we could make this work. I always put you in the picture and into consideration. Bria, if there’s one thing I never doubted, it’s you. From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted you in my life.”

  Like Tatum, I’m a little broken. And because of that, I don’t always make the best decisions. But if I don’t kiss him right now, I’ll regret it.

  So I do.

  I push onto my tiptoes and let everything else be forgotten. I fall for his words and let him sweep me away. I join him in the light, in his happiness, and right now nothing else matters. The passion pouring from him as he kisses me back knocks me breathless. His hands skate down my sides and around to my ass. I jump and he catches me, pressing our bodies together and holding me close. The house is dark, but that doesn’t deter him from making his way to the stairs and up to my bedroom.

  My arms are wrapped around his shoulders and he breaks the kiss, trying his best to see without tripping and falling on the stairs which would likely cause one or both of us to break something. I take the opening to kiss his neck and nibble on his ear. A low moan bubbles from his throat as I bite and mark him.

  When he gets to my room, he uses his foot to kick the door shut then slams me into the wood. His mouth reunites with mine hungrily. He grinds into me, using his cock to hit my clit every time. I moan and my head falls back against the door. He moves to my neck since I broke the kiss and the moans coming from my lips are uninhibited.

  “Tatum, I swear to God, if you tell me you’re not going to fuck me tonight, I’m going to lose my freakin’ mind.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to sink my cock so far into your tight little pussy you won’t be able to think about or feel anything else.”

  My panties are soaked from his words and I’m more eager than ever to get this show on the road. I haven’t been with anyone other than my vibrator in months and I’m needy and desperate to feel him.

  My hands tug on his shirt, pulling the fabric up even though I know he can’t remove it seeing as he’s holding
me up. He takes the hint and moves me to the bed where he lays me down on the tiny twin mattress. I don’t know how we’re both going to fit on this thing, but right now I don’t care.

  He removes his shirt and my hand automatically reaches out to graze over his muscles. His abs flex as my fingers trail over him and I make my way to my final destination. I pop the button on his jeans with one hand and pull the zipper down a second later.

  He pushes the pants over his hips, leaving him in tight black briefs. The outline of his cock is impressive as his hard length fights for freedom.

  I reach my hands out, intending to hook my fingers under the waistband of his underwear and let his dick spring free. My mouth waters at the thought and I’m going to combust if I can’t get that thing inside of me in some way soon.

  Tatum takes a step back, out of my reach. A whimper leaves my lips as desperation and doubt crashes onto me hard. Is he changing his mind?

  “I’m in my underwear. It’s only fair if you get in yours.”

  At an embarrassing speed, I rip my shirt over my head. His chuckle is throaty and full of desire. I have no shame in how badly I want him. I lift my hips as he helps me take off my yoga pants, peeling them down my legs as if we have all the time in the world. He doesn’t realize I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown if I don’t have an orgasm now.

  Also, my teammates could come home. But priorities.

  I lay back on the bed and he crawls over me. My heart flutters at the knowledge of what we’re about to do, but when he pins me with a cocksure grin I let the thoughts evade me. His hand is making a tantalizing trail up my leg and over my hip, brushing up my side until he hits my bra. I’m not in my most flattering lingerie, but soon enough it’ll be on the floor and my worries will be deep in the recesses of my mind.