Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)

by Bella Love-Wins

  Stunned, I passed the photo to Chris and waited for his reaction. His jaw dropped. “Wow. Now I get it.”

  “Me too.” I started going through the other stack of images. There were so many that I had never seen before. Aunt Alice wasn’t one to keep a lot of photo albums, so many of my mother’s old photos were nowhere to be found. “These are great, ma’am. My sister Rose and I only have like four or five pictures of her.”

  “That’s a shame. Feel free to take any photos you want from that pile.” She paused and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about earlier, dear, though I can’t say it won’t happen again. Chris’s father knew Agnes too, so he may be just as shocked when he gets in. And good heavens, my parents will be here for dinner tomorrow. Agnes spent a lot of time at my place during our high school years, just as I did at her parents’ house. They’re sure to be spooked.”

  “No problem, Mrs. James. I’ll be ready.”

  “I’ve taken up enough of your time, you two. Chris, the kids are out back. Why don’t you show Jo to her room then take her out to meet them? I’m starting on dinner and will do some prep tonight for the Thanksgiving meal.”

  “Will do.” Chris passed the photo back to me and got up. “Ma, just so there’s no confusion or anything, Jo and I aren’t… like… we’re not related or anything, are we? I gotta ask because of how you freaked out, and I wasn’t sure if it was because we were holding hands or something.”

  All that went through my mind to that question was, ewwwwwww. In hindsight, I’m glad he asked.

  Mrs. James chuckled and shook her head. “Not at all, Chris. There’s no chance at all. Are the two of you dating?”

  He looked at me, probably hoping I would answer. “Well we’re…uh, Jo and I are…”

  His mother grinned. “Never mind, son. I can tell you’re close. That’s enough for me.”

  “Let’s go, Jo.” I thanked Mrs. James for having me and followed Chris out into the hallway for our things. “I’ll show you to the spare room. Pat and Tre are probably out back by now.”

  “Sounds good.”

  22

  Josephine

  I waited until we were upstairs inside the well-lit, bright and airy guest bedroom Chris led me to before I said a word. Placing the old photos on the dresser, dropped my bag on the floor, and broke down laughing on the day bed close to the window.

  Chris put my suitcase in the corner and went back the door, turning the lock before sitting beside me. “What are you laughing at, Jo?”

  “Oh, everything that’s gone down in the last twenty minutes or so. I could be crying so don’t complain.”

  “Good point.”

  “Holy crap, Chris, you were hilarious with your ‘we’re not related or anything, are we’ question. That was classic!”

  “You think that’s funny, do you?”

  “I couldn’t make that shit up!”

  “Shhhhhhh. Watch it with the language. Seriously, the twins repeat everything, and they won’t hesitate to say they learned it from the flaming redhead visitor, either.”

  “Oops, sorry,” I whispered, covering my mouth in my failing attempt at bringing my laughter under control. “It’s only the most stereotypical question someone would ask here in West Texas.”

  “And half the time the answer is probably yes, ain’t it?”

  “That may be true too, sadly… I’m glad we’re not related.”

  He tugged on my waist and pulled me to sit in his lap. “I am too, sweet thing. What I want to do to you right now would be a real sin.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his cheek. “All this talk about being unholy is making me so horny,” I confessed quietly. “I can’t wait until you get lost on your way to the bathroom tonight.”

  “Christ,” he groaned, and I felt his cock throb against my ass. “I may have to sneak you off somewhere, long before that. Maybe Ma needs some things at the grocery. We can steal off in her SUV…hey, I’m sorry about earlier…I was an ass for pushing the issue then going all cold on you.”

  “It’s okay. I got so close to caving when we made it to the airport.”

  “Geez. You did? So you think after your trip to Vegas—”

  I covered his mouth. “Shhhhh. Let’s not talk about it again. I don’t want to fight when I’m this turned on.”

  “All right. Damn girl, I want you so bad right now.”

  He cupped a hand over my mound through my leggings.

  “Mmmm. Me too, baby, but we can’t,” I said, turning his face toward mine for a heated kiss, already responding to his hand at my clit.

  He pulled the fabric and slid his hand down past my panties, covering my swollen bud with two fingers. My hips moved on their own, grinding into his hand and wishing he could free his cock and bury it into me right this second, the same way his tongue invaded my mouth and tangled with my tongue.

  “You’re right,” he moaned out eventually, pulling from the kiss to look at the door. “We can’t. The door’s locked, but anyone can show up outside.” He ceased his hand and slowly removed it from between my legs. “I’ll make sure you’re good and satisfied sometime tonight…That’s a promise. It’ll be the last time we get to, for a while.”

  “Oh. Right. Damn. Chris, in case we don’t get a chance to talk privately before I leave tomorrow, I want to tell you—”

  Just like he mentioned, someone knocked on the door.

  “Chris, are you in there?” came a muffled young female’s voice.

  “That’s Callie,” he explained to me. “I am. Give me a second.”

  He washed his hands in the en-suite bathroom connected to my room before opening the door. His sister was an adorable little dark-haired girl with eyelashes even longer than Chris’s. She launched into his arms, practically climbing up his legs to hug him tightly around his neck. “Hey Callie.”

  “Hi Chris. I missed you.”

  “Me too. How are you doing, little one?”

  “I’m not little anymore, Chris,” she informed him. “That’s why no one picks on me anymore.”

  “That’s awesome. Did Caleb help you out at school?”

  “Naw. I helped myself. I kicked Henry Warner in the nuts when he called me tiny. Since then, everyone’s been real nice.”

  Chris just about balked at that. “Good for you, Callie.”

  She nodded then she looked my way. “Hello. Wow, your hair is so pretty. Can I touch it?”

  “Manners, Callie. First you’re supposed to introduce yourself and tell her your name before you get all personal.”

  “Okay. Hi Miss. My name is Callie. What’s yours?”

  “Hi Callie. I’m Jo. Nice to meet you.”

  “You too. Can I touch your hair now?”

  “Sure.”

  Chris groaned out a laugh and let her down to her feet. She skipped over to me, wasting no time to reach up to my ponytail. “This is so bright! It’s like Merida’s from Brave. Are you good with a bow and arrow too?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  She went from reaching up to it from standing at my side, to crawling into my lap and burying both hands into my scalp. After a while, she parted the disheveled hair that was now over my face to look me in the eye. “Can I maybe have some of it? Like to show my friends at school? Just a little tiny bit?”

  Chris came over then. “No, Callie. That’s her hair. If she gave some of it to every little girl who asked, there wouldn’t be any left on her head now, would there?”

  “I reckon not…”

  “You can take a picture of it if you want,” I suggested.

  “Really! Okay I’ll be back. I’m gonna get my phone.” She ran off down the hall and was back before long, but was accompanied this time by the rest of the kids in the house. “See, Caleb. I told you her hair was bright red.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty cool. Chris!” The boy Callie’s age ran over to Chris and did the same vault up into his arms.

  “What’s doing, bud? Caleb,
this is my friend Jo. The silent teenager at the door is Connor, and he’s holding my baby brother, Chandler.”

  “Hi Caleb, Connor.”

  “Hi,” they said in unison.

  “Hello Chandler. Awww he’s so cute. He looks like you, Chris.”

  “Yeah he does.”

  “I used to be cute,” Caleb informed me with a scowl, climbing down from Chris’s arms to sit on the bed in the middle of the room.

  “Oh you’re still cute, Caleb,” I reassured him. “Babies have the extra cuddle factor, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me pinching your cheeks, right? Babies usually like that too.”

  “No. I’m way too old for that. Only my Grams gets to do that.”

  He and Callie were up on the bed in no time, bouncing a few times before Connor stopped them. “Hey. You know Mom would have you two in your rooms if she saw you jumping on this bed she just made. Get off of there. Hey Chris.”

  “Yo Connor.” He and Chris shared a fist bump, then he passed Chandler over.

  “Chandler dude, look at you, little man. You grew so much in three months.”

  “Where’s the car?” Connor asked as the toddler babbled at Chris.

  “We flew in. Long story.”

  “Yeah, I saw Pat. Figured he had something to do with it.”

  “Yup. So it looks like you’ve been helping out with them, or did you just take them today because you knew I was coming in?”

  Connor laughed. “Naw, man. I’ve been watching them all the time since you left. Ask Ma. She’ll tell you.”

  “I hope so.”

  Chris sat on the bed, and a moment later the twins and Chandler were all over him. Connor took a seat and gave the occasional mother hen warning that was customary for a teenaged older brother turned babysitter. I leaned back on the day bed, admiring the five of them as Chris caught up on all their updates on what he’d missed since he left for school and football camp in August—and inadvertently crossed paths with my sorry ass on the side of that highway. It was clear as day that they adored Chris. I understood then why he wasn’t traveling with us to Las Vegas. I wouldn’t have traded time in Sin City for this precious time with kids he loved so dearly, either. My heart could burst, watching them together like this. Even Connor stretched out on the bed beside them, playing on his phone, but not quite ready to leave his brother’s side yet. Actually, I needed some air right now or I was likely to start bawling.

  “Hey, I’ll be back in a bit. Are Pat and Tre out back?”

  Connor nodded. “Yeah. Just take the downstairs hallway straight back and make a left and a right. They’re on the back porch.”

  “Thanks. See y’all later.”

  Chris and I didn’t find a spare second to be alone the rest of the day. It was just too busy and there wasn’t enough time. After dinner, the kids built forts in his room and set up residence with him. I couldn’t fault him for that, and I couldn’t bring myself to inject myself into their limited time together. The next day wasn’t much different. Except for when we all sat down to Thanksgiving dinner, he had a kid on his hip or was catching up with his father or running errands for his mother.

  After breakfast on Thanksgiving morning, I offered to help his mother with whatever she needed to prepare the turkey dinner. It was the least I could do, and she graciously accepted my offer. Mrs. James, who wanted me to call her and her husband by their first names, Carina and Cordell, told me some stories about my mother while I peeled vegetables and prepared a cheese and fruit tray for the kids to snack on. I learned that she and my mother were best of friends for many years. They had only drifted apart after my father walked out on my mother. Mrs. James said she truly regretted not reaching out more from then on, especially when my mother passed so suddenly.

  Thanksgiving preparation quickly turned to Thanksgiving dinner. The time seemed to fly by and before Mrs. Jones brought out dessert, Chris was doing his reveal of the painting I made from the photo of his family. He presented it to his mom as a surprise. She cried, and I think Mr. James got a little teary-eyed too. They were both curious about what I would charge to do more, in case their friends wanted a portrait like it. This was when Pat announced he was my agent and informed them I was likely to be booked up for at least six to eight months with the work he was anticipating as a result of my meeting with his father. Both details were news to me, but to be honest, I was thrilled to hear about the chance to do that much more work without having to figure out how to market my art by myself.

  Before I knew it, I was getting into Pat’s limo with one suitcase and loading up the rest of the art. Chris barely got to kiss my cheek with everyone around. I promised him I’d phone him the next day so I could finish what I was about to tell him up in my guest room. He promised that after the SEC championships and his exams were over, he would fly home early for Christmas and New Year’s Day. He would be in town for over two weeks. That was a lot more time for us to pull away and be alone. If I could last that long without him.

  23

  Chris

  “Y’all did what?” I asked the same question three times because I was having a hard time accepting Pat and Tre’s answer.

  It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving. The plan was for me to meet them at the private charter terminal at El Paso International. I got there an hour early, hoping that on the off chance the plane arrived before schedule, I’d have a little time with Jo before Pat, Tre and I flew back to Baton Rouge. The plan was simple enough, I thought. Go to airport, see Jo at airport, put Jo in cab to my parents’ house for her things, then fly back to Louisiana.

  Apparently, Pat didn’t do simple.

  Pat had a flight attendant come to collect me from the terminal. She brought me onto the plane.

  Jo wasn’t on the plane.

  They left Jo in Las Vegas.

  “Somebody better have an explanation for me about how this happened and why I’m only finding out about it now.”

  “It’s a very simple explanation, bud.”

  I took a seat and fastened my seatbelts. “Which is?”

  “Artist authentication. Do you know what that is?”

  “Of course I don’t. What the hell is it?”

  “For my dad’s art dealer, it’s where a new artist like Jo verifies she is the true originator of a piece by reproducing it while under supervision.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “The art dealer has to see her create another one of the paintings.”

  “So why didn’t you just say that?” Pat shrugged. “Wait a second. You left Jo in Vegas…where exactly?”

  “She’s perfectly safe. She’s staying at a suite in my old man’s hotel.”

  “With the art dealer?”

  “Of course not. The art dealer has her own suite.”

  I pulled out my cell phone, wondering why Jo didn’t mention it while we were texting back and forth over the weekend. The short message I sent to her now read,

  ‘Are you okay? When are you leaving Vegas?’

  There wasn’t time to wait for a response as the flight attendant came over and asked us to turn off our electronic devices for takeoff.

  “How long does she have to stay out there?”

  “That all depends.”

  “On what?”

  “The time it takes her to finish the painting. Probably a week or two.”

  “You’d better hope nothing happens to her, Pat, or it’s your ass I’ll come after.”

  “There’s no need to resort to threats…particularly ones against my orifices. She’ll be fine. No one will let a soul touch a hair on her gorgeous head. Jo will be lucky to see the hallway outside her suite, let alone leave her hotel. As soon as my dad realized she’s younger than my sister, he stationed two guards outside her room to keep her safe.”

  “Why?”

  “My father protects his interests.”

  “And that means what exactly?”

  “Relax, Chris. The old guy bought the paintings she to
ok with her, and at the agreed upon price. He also pre-ordered another eight, to be delivered one per month. Plus the one she’ll do to prove she’s the real deal. Believe me, buddy. She’s safe and has a promising future.”

  Tre leaned forward in his seat across the aisle to look me in the eye. “It’s one hell of a hookup, son. Your girl has hit the big times.”

  “You two slackers better make sure she gets back to Texas in one piece.”

  I needed a drink.

  Once the plane took off and hit cruising altitude, one of the two flight attendants came around with flutes of champagne. I told them I wanted whiskey. I didn’t enjoy flying in the first place, and knowing Jo was effectively on her own out there got me wound up and anxious. The flight was less than ninety minutes, but hell, it felt like forever. All I wanted to do was get a hold of Jo, hear her voice and make sure she was all right.

  That didn’t happen.

  The text I got back from her read,

  ‘Doing fine, but crazy busy. I have to make this count. Miss you. Will message you again soon.’

  That was it.

  Aware of how big the stakes were for her, I didn’t reply. I needed to let her have this time, the same way she had done for me all semester long. She deserved that much. I got my head back in the game at football practice to be ready for the SEC championship game, and went back to busting my ass preparing for final exams and finishing course project work.

  The SEC Championship Game was here. We were all ready to shine. Our team captain, Slade was at the top of his game, and with his charisma and natural leadership, he made the rest of us fall in line. We knew we had what it took to win. Every player could taste it. Our domination of this season promised to lead us all to big things, so this game was where we needed to drive it on home. The head coach gave us a lengthy dose of pre-game inspiration, and soon we were heading through the tunnel into the edge of the stands, looking out at the tens of thousands of fans who had come out to see us play as we waited for the announcer to kick things off.