Out Of Bounds (Brit Boys Sports Romance Book 3)

by J. H. Croix

  “Sure. How about…” I leaned back and glanced at my schedule. The receptionist printed it for me everyday and left it on my desk even though I had it in my phone calendar. “12:30?”

  “Perfect. I’ll meet you here.” Daisy stood and gave me a swift hug before leaving with a wave.

  I jumped into work, relieved I had a busy schedule this morning. If anything could take my mind off of the treadmill of worry and anxiety, staying busy could. I worked with an elderly woman who was a few months into her recovery from a broken hip and moved onto a session with a professional bodybuilder who’d torn his rotator cuff. The contrast between the two was so stark as to be amusing. Janet, the elderly woman who’d fallen, had me cheering as she showed off her walking skills. I had just returned to my office from the gym to check on a few things when my desk phone rang. I answered without bothering to check to see who was calling.

  “Ms. Jacobs, Brad Williams from the Seattle Observer here. I’m calling with regard to the incident with Alex Gordon and to discuss whether you have any comment on the matter.”

  I stared at the phone. As innocuous as it looked, at the moment, I wanted to throw the phone across the room. On the heels of my anger came dread. I silently cursed myself. I should’ve known the media would call. I should’ve been prepared for this. I just hadn’t wanted to think about it. At all. My life had rolled past this, and I didn’t want to wade back into the quagmire.

  “Ms. Jacobs?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, out of reflex and the habit of manners, before I snapped it shut. I didn’t have to talk to anyone. I started to hang up when I considered that might not help me. If I wanted any say in how this played out, I couldn’t hide from it. To this day, I wondered if I hadn’t been so ready to curl up and hide if I’d have had the endurance to go through a trial. Because that’s what it required—enduring the indignity of replaying the worst moments of my life and the shame in which they were cloaked. I’d been too tired and still reeling from the shock of it all to face it. Maybe I couldn’t go back in time and rectify that, but perhaps I could affect how this played out. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, and tried to quell the fast pounding of my heart.

  “Yes. I’m here,” I finally managed.

  The reporter cleared his throat. “Okay, well, I think I’m glad you didn’t hang up on me,” he replied.

  His tone was polite and careful, yet there was just enough warmth in it, I sensed I could trust him, at least enough to talk for a few minutes. “I was thinking about it,” I said, the bald truth coming out before I reconsidered my words.

  “Can’t say I blame you. Well, now that I have you, do you mind taking a few minutes to answer some questions?”

  “How about you ask, and if I feel comfortable answering, I will?”

  “Works for me.”

  There was another pause. “Would it be more comfortable if I came to meet with you in person?”

  I spun in my desk chair to look out the windows. The clinic where I worked was in downtown Seattle with our offices on the third floor of a larger building, offering a view of the Seattle skyline with Puget Sound in the distance. I watched as a red-tailed hawk flew past my window to land on the wide sill jutting out from the windows. A pair of hawks nested there every year, and everyone in the office enjoyed keeping an eye on them. My gut was churning and my heart was pounding in a clangy, shallow beat—that’s how it felt whenever I was anxious. I didn’t know if I was half crazy to even have this conversation, but I figured in person would be better because I’d have a better sense of the reporter.

  “I’d like that.” I glanced up at the clock. I had an hour before Daisy would be here to meet me for lunch and an unexpected opening in my schedule due to a cancellation. “If you can meet me now, I have an hour,” I said quickly before I chickened out.

  ***

  Brad Williams sat across from me at the small round table in my office roughly ten minutes later. I didn’t know where he’d come from, but he’d made it to the clinic within minutes. He was a whip-thin man with silver hair, sharp blue eyes and glasses. He had a somber, thoughtful air to him. It wouldn’t have surprised me to learn he was a runner. He had the build and energy for it. We’d gotten through the pleasantries, and he presently had a cup of coffee from our waiting area in hand.

  He looked over at me and cocked his head to the side. “You might want to know I was one of the lead reporters for the Observer back when Mr. Schmidt was charged with rape and assault. I’m also an alumni from his university and ran for the track team there back in my day.”

  “Oh, really? Did I speak with you before?” I asked. My memories of the calls from reporters during those few months after my name had been made public and the case finally dropped off the radar after his plea deal were blurry. I hadn’t met with anyone in person.

  Brad held my gaze for a moment before nodding. “We spoke on the phone once. You may not remember, but the Observer chose not to use your name in our reporting even after it had been disclosed publicly.”

  The knot of tension in the pit of my stomach coiled a little tighter. “I don’t remember that, but I tried not to read about it,” I said with a shrug.

  “Understood.” He took a sip of coffee and glanced to the recorder he’d set between us on the table. He’d asked if he could use it, and I’d agreed on the condition he send me anything for review before it was published. He set his coffee down and looked square at me. “Well, let’s start with the basics. Any comment on the charges against Mr. Gordon?”

  “I suppose all I have to say is I understand why it happened. I don’t mean to say hitting someone is a good idea, just that he was upset and it’s what happened.”

  “It’s safe to say plenty of people agree with you on that. Can you tell me the nature of your relationship to Mr. Gordon?”

  My heart set to banging in my chest. I had anticipated this question, but I still didn’t know how to answer it. I felt my cheeks heating. Alex had quickly come to mean far more than I’d expected. In the span of a few weeks, he’d gone through several stages in what he meant to me. A casual friend who I trusted because of his connection to a dear friend. I trusted Olivia completely and by extension Liam. Liam held Alex in the highest esteem and considered him his best friend, so even before I’d gotten to know Alex better, I’d trusted him by virtue of those connections alone. He’d then become a man I wanted with a ferocity that knocked through my self-imposed defenses and made me feel alive again. Yet, even in the headiness of that desire, I’d had a single goal and it was purely physical. I couldn’t have known acting on that would kick things up another notch. I hadn’t anticipated the feeling of connection with him, an intimacy raw and startling in its depth.

  I abruptly wished I’d thought to call Alex before I met with Brad. For a second, I started to worry I might say the wrong thing. The worry vanished as suddenly as it manifested because I knew with certainty that Alex wouldn’t hold anything I said against me even if it created problems for him and his case.

  “He’s a good friend,” I said. The moment the words came out, I reconsidered. “He might be more than that,” I blurted out next, wishing instantly I could take the words back, not because of the circumstances under which I said them, but because everything with Alex felt too new, too raw—fragile as spun sugar.

  Brad merely nodded and took another sip of coffee, conveniently oblivious to how much it meant that I was even allowing myself to think about a man in any context with me that wasn’t purely platonic.

  My office door opened simultaneous with a knock, and Daisy stood there. She had a tense look to her, her eyes flicking from me to Brad. She put her hands on her hips and slammed the door shut behind her, her gaze locked on Brad. “Don’t you dare make her…”

  I held a hand up. “Daisy, it’s okay. I told him I would meet with him.”

  Her concerned gaze bounced to me. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’d rather have my own say about it than to have pe
ople speculating.”

  She pursed her lips, and I felt heartened at her appearance. Even if it was unnecessary at the moment, it was good to have Daisy in my corner. She was fierce when it came to protecting her friends. She glanced between us and promptly pulled out a chair.

  “Okay, consider me, I don’t know, her…her friend who will kick your ass if needed,” she said with a firm nod.

  Brad flashed a small grin. “Fair enough. Mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Go for it,” Daisy replied firmly.

  “Any comment on the situation?”

  “Joe deserved it. That’s exactly what I think.”

  Brad angled his head to the side. “Perhaps you could elaborate on why you think that?”

  Daisy leaned forward, her brown eyes fairly snapping with anger. “He raped and assaulted my friend. Even if she wasn’t my friend, I’d have been horrified by what he did. He made the court case into a living hell for her, making it not worth going through a trial, and he got off way too easy if you ask me. Karma’s like a boomerang and sometimes it takes longer for it to come around, but it always does. A few punches doesn’t even come close to what he put Harper through, so he should still consider himself lucky.”

  I almost laughed, not because it was funny, but rather the overwhelming relief made me giddy and the circumstances of this particular moment bordered on ludicrous. Brad and Daisy continued talking while my attention started to wander a bit. Until Daisy said… “Well, I mean it’s obvious Alex did it for love.”

  My head whipped in her direction, my heart starting to bang wildly in my chest, and hope waving a little flag and dancing inside. I promptly ignored hope’s attention-seeking gambit. The last thing I needed was to start getting all wistful over what might be. Daisy was definitely on the passionate side when it came to her feelings. She felt everything strongly, and tended to assume the same of everyone. “Daisy, I don’t know…”

  She waved a hand dismissively in my direction. “You can be all coy about it, but it’s not going to change anything. He wouldn’t have been so angry if he didn’t really care about you.”

  “Yeah but, I don’t think…”

  Brad caught my eye and shook his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t be announcing Mr. Gordon’s in love with you. Well, unless he tells me so,” he said with another slight smile.

  Daisy crossed her legs, one foot bouncing up and down. “Oh whatever. You should let it be a good story. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself with the whole love thing, but you have to admit he’s way into you.”

  I blushed so hard, I could’ve used some cold water to splash on my face. I couldn’t quite believe we were having this conversation in front of a reporter, but then Daisy was never one to shy away from anything. I looked to Brad. “Did you have any more questions for me?”

  “Just one: do you have any concerns that Mr. Schmidt is a risk to other women?”

  His question took me aback, but only for a second. I knew the answer without hesitation. “Of course. He never took responsibility for what he did even when he accepted the plea deal. I’ve always wondered if it would happen again.”

  Chapter 15

  Alex

  I breathed in the cool, rainy air and slowed my stride as we approached the entrance to the park. Harper was still meeting me daily to run. Honestly, I had tried to run every day before, but practice was enough of a workout that I’d skip here and there. With Harper, I hadn’t missed a day. Another two weeks had passed since I’d landed my fist in Joe’s face and not much had really happened with that. Zoe kept Coach and I apprised of her communication with the prosecutor, but beyond the initial filing of charges, nothing had changed. She’d filed something to delay something—hell, she told me what, but it was in dry, legal terms so I didn’t absorb it—and told us she preferred to take a wait and see approach. She thought Joe might back off if he got too much public pressure. I kept reminding her I had actually punched him, but she shrugged it off.

  Meanwhile, I was doing my damnedest to ignore the press, while Coach was busy stirring it up. He didn’t seem to care what the status of my charges was. He was focused on the whole ‘good guy Seattle Stars player’ press. Harper had told me about her call from the reporter from the Seattle Observer and showed me the story he wrote. I figured it was her call to say whatever she wanted, but it sure seemed like the reporter had some lingering opinions on what happened with Joe’s old case. He spent half of the article reviewing the light sentence Joe got and comparing it to average sentences for the crimes he’d pled to. Oh, it bloody pissed me off that rape wasn’t on that list, but Joe was stuck with assault charges.

  The good thing in all this: I got to see Harper more. Beyond our morning runs, I’d stolen another two nights with her. I glanced to her as we transitioned to a walk once we reached the sidewalk beyond the park entrance. Like me, she eschewed a raincoat when we ran in the rain, insisting it was annoying to listen to the rustle of it and she didn’t mind getting wet. Her dark brown hair was wet with a loose lock sticking to her cheek. Without thinking, I reached over and brushed it off her cheek. She glanced to me, her blue eyes bright in the silvery gray light.

  Just like that, I was hard. The air around us felt electrified. I almost stumbled, too busy staring at her when we reached a cross street that I didn’t notice I was stepping off the sidewalk.

  “Alex!”

  She grabbed my arm just as a car whizzed by. Bloody hell. This woman made me lose my mind and definitely my focus. We stood there with her hand curled around my forearm and the misty rain falling all around us. Cars passed by, one rolling through a puddle nearby and sending a splash of water on our legs. The splash penetrated the fog in my brain, and I finally tore my gaze away. I shook my arm loose, curled my hand around hers and started walking. I had one thing on my mind. I needed Harper. Now.

  Our route through the park this morning landed us closer to my flat on the way back. It was a bloody good thing Harper seemed to be of the same mind as me because otherwise I’d have been practically dragging her. As it was, we were almost running when we reached the steps to my building. Usually, I’d stop the check on Callie, but not today. We made it through my front door in seconds, and I spun around the moment the door slammed shut behind us.

  We were both drenched. My t-shirt was sticking to my skin, as was hers. That worked for me because her nipples were tight peaks through her bra and shirt. When she looked up at me as she leaned against the door, a drop of rain rolled down her cheek and onto her neck. I dipped my head and licked it off. Just that small taste of her skin and lust bolted through me.

  Our lips collided in a hot, wet, messy kiss. I wanted to devour her, frantic to slake the need pounding through me. Seeing her daily kept me in a state of semi-constant arousal, all the while I was trying not to force myself into her life. Liam had told me enough times I could be intense, so I’d been trying to tone it down and let the course of what was happening between us unfold gradually. Bloody hell. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. The only time I wasn’t batting thoughts of her away was during practice and games.

  Harper’s tongue dueled with mine and she nipped at my lips, an edge of wildness to her that matched my own. Her skin was cool and damp and pebbled under my touch. Her head thumped against the door when I stepped back and dragged her wet t-shirt over her head, her bra following in quick succession. Her nipples, dusky pink and damp, tempted me as they tightened further in the cool air, but she didn’t give me a chance to draw one into my mouth when she yanked at my shirt, sliding her hands up underneath and stepping closer to me.

  I reached behind my head and tugged my shirt away where it fell to the floor in a rumple with hers. Before I had a chance to think, her lips were mapping their way down my chest as she shoved my shorts down, immediately curling her palm around my cock when it bounced free from my briefs. My knees almost gave way at the feel of her stroking me. I was pushed up against the edge of my control and so hard, I was on the verge of pain.


  Her lips kept mapping their way down, and I groaned when she dragged her tongue along the underside of my cock. She shimmied down to her knees, and I gripped her damp hair, powerless to stop her when she set to explore every inch of my shaft with her lips and tongue. By the time she drew me into her warm mouth, I was about to explode.

  “Harper,” I bit out, my voice rough.

  She paused and drew back, the act itself almost making me lose the thin thread of control I was holding onto. Her eyes whipped up, dark blue through her lashes, which were damp and spiky from the rain. I meant to say something. Hell if I knew what. That brief pause helped me regain a smidgen of control. Before she set to licking, stroking and sucking me to the very edge of my sanity. My mind zeroed in on one thing—I wanted to be inside of her.

  It was an act of pure will, driven by the lash of my need, to step back and pull her up roughly. Her lips were swollen and pink between our kisses and what she’d just been doing to my cock. I was beyond anything even resembling control. I shoved at her running pants, which were fitted as it was and damp on top of it. As a result, she almost fell over in the course of me nearly tearing them off. A half-wall ran a few feet alongside the door where a shelf held keys and the like that I tended to toss there when I entered.

  In Harper’s stumble, she caught her balance on the top of the wall and paused to kick her shoes off and free her legs from the tangle. Her bottom, that delectably lush bottom, faced me, and my last bit of restraint snapped. I stepped to her and ran a palm down her back, grimly savoring the hitch in her breath and the feel of her skin pebbling under my touch. I took another step, my cock brushing against her. Her back arched naturally as I dragged my palm in another pass along her spine, this time sliding down into the cleft between her thighs. I slid a finger through her folds, slicking it in her wetness. She was so wet, I almost came at the thought of how it would feel to sink inside of her. That flickering thought drove me, and I positioned myself behind her, gripping my cock in my hand and dragging it back and forth against her.