by Kelsie Rae
"What the heck?" I shove his chest playfully while trying to contain my amusement.
His forearms cage me in on both sides as his chest rumbles with laughter. My breath catches when he peers down at me. His glasses are slightly crooked from our heated make-out session, and he's grinning from ear to ear like he's the luckiest guy on the planet. The sight squeezes my heart in all the right places.
"You're much too serious, Kitten. Life is to be enjoyed, not endured." He smirks before grinding into me purposefully. I moan in response before hesitantly following his lead. We're still partially clothed, but that doesn't stop the waves of pleasure from pulsing through me.
Life is to be enjoyed. And I assume sex is, too.
Well played, Jude. Well played.
We spend the rest of our night in my room as Jude shows me exactly what I’ve been missing out on. He demonstrates, over and over again, how incredible life can really be when we finally face our fears and leap into the unknown.
He treats my virginity like a precious gift. One that he’ll treasure for the rest of his life. And I know, without a doubt, that I’ll never forget him. Nor will I forget the overpowering impact he’s having on my life... and the way I choose to live it from now on.
Chapter 19
Quincy
We’re home, and the feeling is bittersweet. I’m beyond happy to see my dad who survived perfectly fine without me. But I miss the beautiful little bubble Jude created for me while we were away. I’m not sure I’m ready to come back to reality. Back to my life that’s far less than perfect.
I don’t hit my weekly games for my Flinch contract, and my agent is pissed. I try to explain the abnormal circumstances regarding my absence, but he doesn’t want to hear it. Thankfully, because this is my first offense, he doesn’t give me too much crap but insists I make up for it this week. I sign in on Sunday and play for ten hours straight, knocking off a good chunk of my weekly quota in one sitting.
We have one week until the championships. We made it through the semi-finals last week and will spend this next weekend competing against The Red Lords. I haven’t played against them yet, because of my recent addition to the team, but I’ve heard they’re a bunch of cocky jerks.
Heck, I’ve seen it firsthand in their interviews.
They beat Team AFK during the season and have been reminding everyone of their previous success on a daily basis through Instagram, Facebook, and a variety of interviews. They’re also making a special point to mention that they look forward to beating the new girl on the team, AKA me. Their arrogance makes me want to punch them in the balls, but I’ll save my anger for this weekend. My time away with Jude helped me refocus my priorities. I’m not going to scramble through life anymore. I plan on grabbing it by the horns and making it my bitch. Sorry for swearing, Dad.
I’m currently driving like a maniac to practice while cursing my decision to not stay at the hotel with the rest of the guys. I’m going to be late, again, and there’s a massive storm outside, which isn’t helping the roads.
The windshield wipers are swiping back and forth across my line of vision faster than a speedy rabbit, but the rain is still coming down in torrents. As soon as I pull into the parking lot, I grab my phone and type out a message to Carrie.
Quin: Hey! It’s raining like crazy, and I’m a little nervous to drive back in this weather. Are you okay staying with my dad tonight?
Her reply is almost instant.
Carrie: Sure thing! Don’t stress, I got this. We’re just watching some old family videos!
I smile fondly at her message, knowing that it’s likely my parents’ wedding tape. My dad could watch that thing on a constant loop for the rest of his life and die a happy man.
Quin: Thank you!! I owe you one!
Carrie: I’ll take a Diet Coke tomorrow morning as payment. ;)
My mouth stretches into a grin.
Quin: Deal.
Satisfied that my dad is taken care of, I slip my cell into the front pocket of my sweatshirt and grab my black beanie from the passenger seat before shoving it on my head. I know my attempt to stay dry is futile as soon as I open the door and rush to the front entrance.
I’m drenched by the time I enter the lobby and am chilled to the bone.
Thankfully, I have a white tank top underneath my sopping wet hoodie. The thick material drank up the rain like a dry sponge. I slip it over my head and toss it on the ground before throwing my hair into a messy bun. After I’m satisfied with my impromptu outfit change, I grab my sweatshirt, beanie, and phone before heading to the elevator and up to the conference room.
“Hey, guys! Sorry I’m late!” I apologize as I make my way to my designated chair. I put my headset on and sign in to Gateway Guardians then I notice how silent it is in the room.
Hesitantly, I look up and take in the rest of my teammates. They’re all staring at me like I’m an absolute stranger or something. Ronny is frozen, with a bottle of soda halfway to his mouth, while Jonah’s jaw is hanging off its hinges.
My brows quirk in response.
“Yes?” I ask the quiet room.
Jude clears his throat before shrugging off his own sweatshirt and placing it over my shoulders.
Confused, I stick my hands through the armholes and zip up the front.
Marcus is making a point not to look at me while Trevon looks impressed. Ronny and Jonah seem to have caught a case of the giggles, simultaneously blushing at the same time.
“I’m sorry... am I missing something?” I voice my question to no one in particular, praying someone will fill me in.
Marcus smacks Ronny behind the head before he has a chance to say anything. The slap makes Jonah laugh even harder.
I raise my brows in Jude’s direction.
He clears his throat loudly. “Sorry, Kitten. Seems the gentlemen here weren’t expecting a show before practice this evening.”
“Huh?” I’m still confused.
Subtly, Jude’s eyes bounce to my recently covered chest and back up to my face. His silent hint is so quick I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been paying close attention.
I look down to see if I spilled something on my shirt when I remember my white tank top... and the likelihood of it being damp from the thunderstorm outside.
My mouth forms an ‘o’ as I realize what show Jude’s referring to.
I’m blushing like an innocent little school girl as I place my head in my hands, wishing the world would swallow me up in this exact moment.
“Oh my gosh,” I groan to no one in particular.
Jovial laughter explodes throughout the conference room as the tension is finally broken.
Jonah and Ronny are hooting from across the table while Trevon stands and offers me a high-five. My cheeks are still flaming as I raise my hand in return and slap it against his.
Marcus simply shakes his head, smiling softly like a proud papa at the group of misfits surrounding the wooden table.
“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get this started!” he states in his authoritative voice, quickly whipping us all into shape.
The laughter instantly dies down as everyone remembers our purpose for the evening. We sign onto our computers and play a series of brutal matches.
After three grueling games of Gateway Guardians, Jude steps out to pick up some pizzas while the rest of us talk strategy around the large conference table.
“Alright guys, I think we’ve definitely worked out some of the big kinks in our playing,” Marcus congratulates us. “But—”
“Why is there always a but?” Ronny groans.
“Jonah, you need to be more careful with your ammo supply,” Marcus continues, completely ignoring Ronny’s interruption. “You’re too slow to go find it yourself, and Quin can’t keep saving your ass by bringing it to you every thirty seconds.”
Jonah nods his head in response, trying to absorb Marcus’ assessment.
“Ronny, try to keep a closer eye on the opponents’ whereab
outs during the game. You’re always so focused on finding supplies that you forget about where our enemies are.”
“Come on, we both know that Quin can get past those idiots without my help!” Ronny defends.
“Don’t be an ass,” Marcus replies before turning his attention on me. “Q, you’re doing well, but you’re a little too cocky. Trevon had to save your ass on two separate occasions during the last game, and if he wasn’t in the right place at the right time, you would’ve been blown away.”
I agree with his criticism completely. I played sloppily, and it’s a miracle I didn’t lose the game for us this time. Jonah was out of ammo, and I was trying to get him a grenade launcher so he could cause a giant distraction. I had wanted to deliver the weapon so I’d be able to walk right into their hideout and grab the gem. The plan worked, but just barely. If Trevon wasn’t in the perfect position on top of the roof, I would’ve been screwed.
“Trevon. Keep up the sharp shooting, man. Don’t hesitate to take someone out. You did great.” Trevon does that weird head tilt that guys do to silently acknowledge Marcus’ compliment while still looking cool.
We talk strategy for another half hour until Jude delivers the piping hot pizzas.
My stomach growls in response to the mouth-watering aroma of garlic and yeast.
“About freaking time,” Jonah grunts before diving for the cardboard box.
Everyone grabs a slice at once. The cheese strings between Jude’s and my pieces as I take a giant bite of pizza.
“Aww… aren’t you two the cutest? Are we having a Lady and The Tramp moment? Should I get my violin? Maybe play a little love song?” Ronny quips while batting his eyelashes dramatically.
Jude flips him off while chuckling at the innocent ribbing. “Sod off. You wouldn’t know real romance if it hit you in the face.”
Trevon’s laughter booms throughout the room at the interaction, which makes the rest of us join right in.
Ronny pouts. “I know real romance.”
“With his right hand,” Jonah adds between bouts of laughter.
My jaw hits the floor before giggles erupt from deep in my stomach.
Ronny pretends to be offended for about two seconds before grabbing another slice of Meat Lover’s and changing the subject. “So, are we all ready for this weekend? Anything else we need to discuss, boss?”
He’s referring to Marcus, who in return simply rolls his eyes. Ronny likes to joke that Marcus is too uptight for his own good and enjoys bossing people around too much.
“Well, now that you bring it up, I think we need to discuss our opponents for a minute.”
Ronny and Jonah groan simultaneously. “Come on, why do we need to talk about those dickheads?”
“Because, despite what we all want to admit to ourselves, they kicked our asses last time, and we need to be ready for them,” Marcus replies bluntly.
“They cheated,” Ronny whines.
“They didn’t cheat. They outsmarted you.”
Ronny runs his fingers through his long, stringy hair. “They didn’t outsmart me. They distracted me.”
Trevon pipes up. “They outsmarted you, man. They outsmarted all of us.”
I don’t need to ask how they outsmarted the team. I caught the whole game live from my computer before I ever joined Team AFK.
They used a flash bomb which takes away the Operator’s sight, leaving the opposing team blind for thirty seconds. During that time, they used a Doppelgänger that allowed the Tank to look like the Sneak, and vice versa, for an additional thirty seconds. The combination of these moves allowed the real Tank to blow the crap out of our Sniper, Trevon, who thought he was about to kill their Sneak. This alerted Ronny, our Operator, to call for a Filler.
A Filler means a player is down, and the Team Lead needs to recover their spot. Marcus walked right into a trap, getting blown to pieces by their Tank when he also thought he was dealing with the opposing team’s Sneak. After both of them died, it left the Sneak on Team AFK without any protection because our Tank was on the other side of the map. Team AFK’s Sneak was taken down by the enemy’s Team Lead who was guarding the gem without a care in the world.
Don’t get me wrong. Crap like this happens all the time, but the combination of moves was played to perfection, and they bit Team AFK in the butt.
“Well, we’re not going to let it happen again. We’ve been watching their games. We’ve seen their combination moves. We’re not going to be taken off guard like last time,” Marcus states confidently. His strong voice brings me back from my reverie.
“Right,” I add. “We’ve got this.”
“I just want them to lay off Quin for five minutes,” Jonah comments, referring to the hazing I’ve been receiving from The Red Lords’ Team Lead, Chase. The guy is a complete jerkface, but there’s not much we can do about it. It’s not like I haven’t heard it all before, anyway.
“What have they been saying?” Jude asks. He’s been surprisingly quiet throughout the entire conversation. His current tone, however, is ice cold.
“Just the normal shit,” Trevon answers, toning down the crap they’ve been throwing my way through the media.
“What normal shit?” Jude uses the American term, emphasizing the word while glaring daggers at Trevon.
“It’s not important,” I interrupt. “It’s not the first time someone has attacked me, and it won’t be the last, either.”
I put my hand on Jude’s thigh beneath the table and try to comfort him the only way I know how. My palm rubs against the worn denim of his jeans, soothingly. I feel like I’m trying to tame a wild beast, which is very unfamiliar territory for me. Jude is usually such a laid-back guy that I’m not sure how to handle him right now. I like how protective he is of me, though. It’s nice knowing that he cares.
The tick in Jude’s jaw lessens as I continue my gentle caressing on his upper leg. I lean closer to him and brush a kiss against his chiseled jaw before whispering, “I’m fine. I promise.”
Louder, I speak to the group. “We’ve got this.”
The rest of the team nod their heads in agreement as the room falls eerily quiet.
I just hope my statement’s true. I guess we’ll find out in one week.
Jude dives into strategies, and the most efficient way to take out The Red Lords. The team eats up every single piece of advice like a fat man at a buffet. It’s incredible to watch, and I’m not gonna lie, he looks hot as hell when he talks nerdy to the group.
I had asked him a few days ago why he always stayed so quiet during practices, and he mentioned his private meetings with Marcus. Apparently, Jude wants Marcus to maintain his responsibility as Team Lead and is afraid the Team AFK members will question Marcus if they have two people giving them orders. We’ve been really successful so far, so maybe Jude has a good point with this strategy.
But watching my hot British boyfriend take command in front of the guys?
Swoon.
He should definitely do that more often.
We’ve just finished up our meeting and everyone disperses when Jude grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers.
“You know, Kitten, the weather’s terrible. I think it might be in your best interest if you spent the night somewhere safe.” He grins devilishly at me, and I laugh in return.
“Oh really? Did you have somewhere in mind?” I quirk my brow before digging my heels in and placing my other hand on my hip like I’m going to put up a fight if he offers his hotel room. We both know that definitely isn’t the case.
“I might be able to make a suggestion,” he teases before dragging me to the elevator.
And just like that, we spend our night together.
And it’s absolutely perfect.
Chapter 20
Quincy
If I have to look at one more effing blog post about me having a vagina instead of an effing penis, I’m going to lose it.
This week has been chocked full of condescending remarks, patronizing assumptions
, and sexually demeaning memes. I’ve tried my best to ignore them, but it’s hard when they’re being thrown at me from all angles.
The championships will be held in Las Vegas, just like our practices have been. I’m happy to know that I’ll still be close to my dad, even if I have to spend another night or two away from him. The series is double elimination, which means the team has to win two games in order to claim the prize: five million dollars split between the five players and their sponsors.
Thinking about the prize money causes my adrenaline to spike. There are so many things I can do with that cash. Paying off my house is the main one. Setting up a nest egg for my dad’s imminent rest home is another.
I’ve just finished packing, and Jude should be here soon. I grab my bag and take it down the stairs.
Deja vu weaves itself throughout my afternoon as I consider how similar today has been compared to a few weeks ago when I visited Salt Lake City with Jude.
“Hi, Daddy,” I greet him in the kitchen. He’s currently sitting at the table reading the newspaper from yesterday morning. My lips press against his wrinkled forehead as his eyes scan the article in front of him. I’m sure he’s read it a dozen times but still finds it captivating.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs, acknowledging my presence.
“I’m going away for a few days, but Carrie will be staying with you.” We’ve had this conversation more times than I can count over the past few days. However, depending on how my dad’s doing in that particular moment, I never know how he’ll react.
“Are you having a sleepover?” he questions, finally looking up from his paper.
“Um… yeah. But I won’t be gone for long,” I lie, assuming he’s stuck in his memories from my high school days instead of the present.
“Just remember to make curfew, even if you aren’t under my roof. You know the rules,” he admonishes. He likes to pretend he’s a strict parent, but we both know he’s a giant pushover.