The Game of Love: (BWWM Romance)

by K. Alex Walker

  Dedication

  For Jessica.

  Thank you for giving me the chance to see a twenty-year dream come to fruition. You are going to do amazing things, and you have changed this industry for the better.

  For Allen.

  This is the only time that I’ll ever root for your Cowboys. It is a day that will live in infamy.

  To my readers:

  Thank you, with everything that I have, for being here as I begin my writing journey. There are just no words to fully express the gratitude that I have for you, and how much I appreciation I have just for the fact that you chiseled even a small amount of time out of your day to read something that I’ve put my heart into.

  I hope that you enjoy reading Austin and Sommer’s story as much as I loved telling it.

  Visit me at kalexwalker.com to send me a message, read some of my crazy thoughts, or learn more about the characters from my books and the history of the town of Yearwood.

  I look forward to hearing from you…

  All my love,

  -Alex

  “Love is a game…so beat the odds.”

  Jessica N. Watkins Presents

  The Game of Love

  by K. Alex Walker

  Copyright @2014 by K. Alex Walker. Publisher: Jessica Watkins Presents. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages to be printing online, in a newspaper, or magazine.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be assumed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  “I’m sorry, but there’ll never be anything between us, Kyle.”

  Sommer ducked as a lamp base sailed over her head. Seconds later, a heavy textbook from the nightstand followed it, striking her in the shoulder. She’d never before seen him like this: enraged to the point that his face had uncontrollably become misshapen with anger, mangling his usually attractive features.

  “Kyle, please,” she begged, moving out of the way as he violently detached her laptop from its charging cord and hurled it across the room towards her. She heard the loud pop before actually looking up and seeing the jagged line ending in a sunburst of cracks across the dark screen.

  “It’s been way too long,” Kyle panted with a vase in his large left hand. His brown skin was actually red with rage.

  “Way too long for what?” she demanded, preparing to shield her head.

  “For you to still even be thinking about Austin Riley!” He threw the vase into the wall. “Get over him!”

  “Kyle,” she began, her eyes following him around the room, “It’s not like I have a chance with him. He’s in Texas. I’m in New York. Plus, Austin’s not even thinking about me.”

  Kyle charged across the room, and she balled her fists in preparation for his attack, not that she could do much damage to a six-foot-three, two-hundred-and-thirty-pound professional football safety.

  “Do you even know who he really is?” Kyle asked, his large size making her feel even smaller than her five-foot-six frame. “I mean, anything about him? I swear, you women will spread your legs for anything that comes along.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?!” Sommer shot back. “When did I sleep with Austin? Tell me that?”

  Kyle grumbled a response that she couldn’t make out, and then grabbed her by the underarms and forced her into the wall behind them. Although terrified of what he could do in this state, Sommer didn’t let it show, having always been taught to never let a dog sense her fear.

  “But you would if you got the chance,” he accused, moving closer until their noses were mere inches apart. “I’m warning you, Sommer. There will never be a relationship between you and Austin. I guarantee it.”

  “And why is that?” she challenged.

  “I don’t have to explain myself.”

  “I think you do.”

  His face softened slightly, and he released her from his grip so that she could land safely to her feet on the floor. He then moved across the room and sat on the bed.

  “You don’t know the things I know about him,” Kyle explained. “A relationship between a woman like you and a man like him would never work. There are things about him that you don’t know about. Things from his past.”

  She folded her arms. “Kyle, you have been hinting at some hidden secret in Austin’s past since our freshman year in college. If this secret is so big, why don’t you just tell me?”

  He looked up at her. “No.”

  “Then, get out.”

  “You can’t kick me out of my own place.”

  “You own the property. You don’t live here.”

  “You don’t pay rent.”

  “You won’t take the checks that I keep trying to give you.”

  He ran his hand over his face. “Just promise me that you’ll stay away from him. If you two, for whatever reason, ever cross paths again, stay away from him.”

  She uncrossed her arms and locked her gaze with his. “And what if I don’t?”

  His face once again began to deform with anger. “Try it and see what happens.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  As his face again softened, Sommer began to realize that something had to definitely be wrong in Kyle’s head. She’d never before seen anyone go through the range of emotions that he’d experienced in the last few minutes, and she’d been living in New York City, the central hub of the world’s craziness, for a few years now. Even when she’d woken up with him in the bed beside her and his looming silhouette had formed a terrifying outline in the dark bedroom, she wasn’t as afraid of him as she was now.

  His shoulders slumped, and he rolled off the edge of the mattress to his knees. Still bent, he moved over to her and every muscle in Sommer’s body tightened as he wrapped his arms around her midsection and pressed his face into her stomach.

  “I’m sorry,” came his muffled apology. “I don’t know who this person is. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Cautiously, she touched his shoulder. “It’s okay, Kyle. We all have our moments like this.”

  He squeezed her tighter. “Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

  “I forgive you, Kyle. It’s okay.”

  He looked up, his eyes showing a picture of pure innocence; false innocence.

  “Do you mind if I come back tomorrow and help you clean this stuff up? I’ll even get you a new laptop. Furniture. Whatever you need.”

  She nodded, now stroking his shoulder with the same caution. “We can do that. We can talk it over tomorrow.”

  He exhaled into her stomach and remained kneeling for what seemed like an eternity. Then, with another sigh, he popped to his feet and touched a kiss to her forehead.

  “Tomorrow,” was all he said before walking towards the door, kicking aside the chaotic rubble that he’d created. When he finally slammed the door behind him, Sommer released a jagged breath of relief, slid to the floor, and prayed that he forgot about his promise to return the next day.

  Her wish was only partially granted.

  After one of the hardest days of work that she’d ever experienced, she stepped off the elevator and squinted at a pink piece of paper that had been scotch taped to the front door. As she got closer and noticed the words “Eviction Notice” scribbled across the top, her stomach tightened into knots:

  Sommer, I can no longer allow you to stay at my place. I was wrong about our friendship and your loyalty. I had a moving service take your stuff to a storage
facility not too far from here. I left their card attached to this note so you’ll know where you can pick up your things. I paid for just one month of storage, so you’ll only have that long to find somewhere else to live. I also left a check that should cover the expenses for your laptop and whatever else got broken.

  -Kyle

  Sommer reread the note to make sure she’d correctly understood that she’d just inadvertently become homeless. She then tried her key in the lock only to find that it had already been changed. It was also late in the evening. Without a car, which she figured that she wouldn’t have needed living in the city, it was going to be hectic trying to find somewhere to sleep that night. Not to mention that, according to the card, the storage place was already closed, so she’d have to find somewhere to buy clothes and toiletries.

  There were special places in hell for men like Kyle…

  Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she snatched it, hoping that it was him calling to say that it had all been a joke. After all, they’d built over twenty years’ worth of friendship, and she didn’t want to think that he was capable of something as callous and uncaring as this.

  Instead of Kyle’s, her uncle’s name was displayed on the screen.

  “Uncle Reese, hi,” she answered, considering whether or not to tell him about her current situation. The feminine voice that came through, however, was not her uncle’s.

  “Sommer, it’s me,” it answered.

  “Mom? Why are you calling from Uncle Reese’s phone? Is everything okay?”

  Her mother paused before responding, something she always did when she was about to deliver bad news.

  “We’re at the emergency room, baby,” her mother answered. “I’m no longer in remission. My breast cancer…it’s back.”

  Chapter One

  She was standing beneath a blue and white striped awning, her head was bobbing to the music coming through the Farmer’s Market stereo, and Austin once again found himself mesmerized by Sommer Hayes as he watched her from across the pavement. He could only imagine how much she would loathe hearing that little piece of news—that her longtime nemesis Austin Riley couldn’t take his eyes off her at that very moment. They’d been rivals ever since the first grade when he’d accidentally puked chocolate milk and pineapple chunks on her new white blouse, and had been too embarrassed to apologize. Their rivalry only increased when in middle school, they almost came to blows when his blatant cheating on her test paper nearly landed them both F’s in science class.

  However, although Sommer hadn’t been very fond of him, Austin hadn’t felt quite the same way about her. With caramel skin so decadent that it looked as though it should be poured over a festival apple, his teasing had only been a cover up for just how sweet he’d been on her. The summer before their senior class left for college, he’d come close to telling her exactly how he felt.

  It was a Saturday afternoon in July, and a raging heat wave had swept the East Coast, effectively canceling the annual Fourth of July parade and postponing any further summer events until temperatures returned to the mid-eighties. Determined not to let the heat ruin their summer, people still lined the sidewalks with portable fans, umbrellas, foldout chairs, and spray bottles, forming a crowd outside of the Hayes Family Bakery Café, where Sommer had worked every summer since she was fourteen.

  It was the first day of the café’s annual summer ice cream sale, and Austin had been a part of the crowd outside the café when five-year-old Abbie Bailey had suddenly burst into tears, casting a hush over the gathering. Everyone turned and followed her gaze downward where they saw that her generous scoop of ice cream had fallen clean off her cone, and had already started to melt against the scorching pavement.

  Sommer’s head had come poking out of the door to see what the girl had been crying about, and when she noticed the fallen ice cream, she immediately placed another scoop of the strawberry swirled confection onto a cone and packed it down firmly. Bounding out of the shop, she crouched in front of Abbie with a smile on her face, and spoke a few reassuring words. Abbie solemnly nodded, and then Sommer handed over the cone, pulled a tissue from her pocket, and wiped the girl’s tear-smudged cheeks. Abbie’s mother mouthed a “thank you,” and Sommer had watched them walk away before she went back inside the café.

  Austin remembered staring at her that day as he was now, captivated by her even back then.

  When it was his turn to be served at the counter, he’d eagerly taken his ice cream as she handed it to him and thought about all the different things that he’d planned to say to her for years. How sorry he was for his elementary school projectile. How beautiful she’d been at prom. What his playful teasing and ribbing had really meant. But instead, when he got to the cash register, all he did was smile with a nearly inaudible “thanks,” pay for his ice cream, and leave.

  Two days later, he left North Carolina to play football at Florida State University. After four years, he’d then been drafted in the first-round to play quarterback in Dallas.

  That sweltering day downtown was the last time that he’d seen Sommer up until now, but as he looked at her, it was as though no time at all had passed.

  “Austin,” a voice called from somewhere down near his waist. A few seconds later, a huge yellow squash was shoved into his face.

  “Ma,” he groaned. “Squash looks like a penis, so don’t put it anywhere near my face.”

  Sixty-two-year-old Emma Riley snickered. She was beginning to question her insistence that her son stay with her during his off-season, which made it the first time he’d been home in nearly a decade. It was almost like having the teenage version of himself living at home again. Somehow, in the span of a couple of weeks, he’d forgotten how to cook for himself and do laundry, and she immediately regretted ever suggesting he hire housekeepers for his luxury high-rise condo in Texas. However, with a rigorous practice schedule, football game each Sunday, and an ex-girlfriend who thought that Windex was the name of a prescription cream for psoriasis, it was the only way to prevent the place from becoming a pigsty.

  “I should have done that to Jessica then, huh?” Emma goaded, going right in for the kill. Although Austin groaned once again, he felt the familiar pang of deceit radiate throughout his ribcage. After eight months, it was still there, waiting to attack the minute anyone said Jessica’s name.

  “That’s low, Ma.”

  “I’m four feet eleven inches, Austin. I have to go low.”

  He playfully nudged her in the side, and they continued to walk.

  Jessica Costa was the Brazilian model that had stolen his heart and then, after eleven months, stamped it with a “return to sender” sticker. He’d met her at a birthday party that one of the team’s wide receivers, Trent Holloway, had thrown for his fiancée, Alexandrina. Alexandrina was Jessica’s cousin and had apparently been trying to introduce him to Jessica for a very long time, so when Jessica had finally been able to chisel some time out of her busy schedule to attend the party, Alexandrina isolated the pair on a private balcony. Much to her delight, he and Jessica had hit it off, spending most of the night talking about the places that she’d traveled to during her modeling career.

  With her dark hair, sparkling brown eyes, and svelte, hourglass figure, Austin had made the mistake of falling in love with Jessica’s beauty and completely ignored the way she never seemed interested in conversation unless she was the topic. He’d turned a blind eye when she would frivolously spend her money and then borrow from him to pay her bills, while his suggestion to invest fell upon deaf ears. He’d assumed that the last straw was when he’d found cocaine in her purse, and she’d openly admitted to using it to remain thin. Yet, he’d remained with her for three more months, just in time for the paparazzi to snap pictures of her sailing on a yacht with an older man later identified as billionaire investor Walter Remos.

  Austin had tried calling her to get an explanation, but was greeted by a recorded saying that the number was no longer in service. He’d even tried sending
messages through Alexandrina, but Jessica never responded. The last that he’d heard was that she was pregnant and marrying the billionaire in the yacht photos. The lack of closure only acted as the closed fist that further drove the knife deeper whenever someone mentioned her name.

  “Austin,” his mother called again. “Do you still eat beets, sweetie?”

  He pointed to a row of vegetables. “No, but I eat eggplants, though. Please, Ma, can you make some of your famous Ciambotta while I’m home? It’s not often that your baby boy comes to visit.”

  Emma rolled her eyes and then picked up a couple of eggplants.

  “Austin Riley?” a velvety voice behind them spoke. Austin turned to find Sommer standing only a few feet away from him, and he distractedly shoved the squash into his mother’s chest. Emma shook her head before she grabbed it, placed it in her basket, and continued on.

  “Sommer?”

  “Yes, Sommer Hayes,” she replied. “We went to school together.”

  It was crazy that she thought he could forget who she was.

  “Of course I remember you, Sommer.” He pointed to her blouse. “Nice top.”

  She took a few steps backwards. “It’s brand new, so let me back up here a little before I get sprayed with chocolate milk and pineapple chunks again.”

  “I’m surprised you remember that,” he admitted with a laugh.

  She grinned. “I could never forget that. My mother cursed you out the entire time she scrubbed that stain out of my shirt. She was upset at you for a while after that. You never noticed that she always cut you an extra small slice of cake whenever you stopped by the café?”

  Austin had told his mother years ago that he thought Mrs. Hayes had it out for him, but she’d laughed so hard that she’d ended up having to take aspirin to quell a budding headache. Then one day when he was sixteen, he, his mother, and his older sister Arielle had gone to the café. His mother had ordered three slices of crème brulee cheesecake, and when Mrs. Hayes cut the slices, his mother had reached for the smallest of the three. Mrs. Hayes had then gently tapped her on the wrist and said that the smallest piece had actually belonged to Austin, which had made him assume that at that moment, he’d been vindicated. But his sister and mother had remained in denial. To this day, they still teased him about what he’d referred to as the mini-cake conspiracy.