Kickin’ It

by Van Dyken, Rachel

  Sirens sounded around the stadium as a security guard ran toward us, followed by at least six policemen and finally the chief of police in a black suit, looking more ready for an expensive dinner than an arrest and almost homicide. He trained his gun on Erik.

  “Erik.” Johnny held his hand out for me to stay still. “You’re under arrest for the rape of Parker Speedman as well as aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say or do . . .”

  I dropped the gun to the ground then sat just as one of the assistant coaches ran over to me. I didn’t know him well, but I’d seen him around. He handed me a bottle of water and then showed me his phone. “The only reason I was able to call 911 is because of your bravery in getting his attention away from me. I was so scared for you, for me.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “Good, that’s good.”

  “That’s more than good, sweetheart.” He sighed and then just sat next to me on the turf like a good coach would.

  He let me cry while he placed a hand on my back and handed me a towel.

  And when I saw Matt charging toward me, fear in his eyes, I full-on wept and jumped into his arms.

  He held me tight while I cried. Willow was close behind and then suddenly Jagger was there, and Slade with Mack, and what looked like half of the Seattle Sounders team.

  “I accidently called the cavalry,” Matt whispered in my ear. “Word traveled fast. Willow called Johnny, who was already headed toward the stadium after they looked at the video from the house—it was clearly Erik, and he looked deranged. Johnny had a bad feeling and told us what was happening. Nobody knew who was closest, so everyone just hopped in their cars and drove straight here.” He kissed me then, in front of everyone, like I was his, and I clung to him and prayed it would stay like that forever. That we’d never have a reason to be pulled apart or to be ashamed of what we had.

  “Fuck you!” Erik yelled as he got cuffed by Johnny. Matt released me and lunged for him, but I stood in front of him.

  “Don’t,” I whispered. “I already got him.”

  “You shot him? I’m sad I missed that,” he said in a stunned voice.

  “Worse.” Darius walked up and shook his head. “She’s a good listener. I advised her to kick him in the balls twice, and she got him three times. Guy puked twice before the police could cuff him.”

  “I’m sorry you had to even touch him with your foot,” Matt growled. “I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life watching you out there with him, you were so brave.”

  Erik turned and tried to glare at us, I grabbed Matt’s hand and kissed his face. I wanted Erik to see what real love was.

  Because all he wanted was control.

  He was a sick bastard, and I wanted to see him locked up.

  Still shaking, I walked up to the chief and said, “We can do it here.”

  “The interview? The confession?”

  “I’ll tell you everything, but I have one condition.”

  “What’s that?” He grinned. Man, he looked young to be police chief.

  “I want to go on camera. I want to tell the world what he did to me. So that girls like me won’t be afraid anymore.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I think I can arrange that,” he said. “Go home and rest. If you want a camera crew it might take a few hours or a day to get things situated. I already have your statement that you were raped. It’s enough to lock him up, and earlier today one of your teammates, who came from his former team, said she needed to press charges.”

  I gasped. “Eileen? She said she had an appointment . . .”

  He ignored my guess. “Sadly, I think more might come forward, which makes it even more important that you talk about it, so others feel like they have the power as well.”

  I nodded as Matt wrapped an arm around me. “Let’s go home.”

  “I love our home.”

  “Me too.” He kissed the side of my head. “Me too.”

  Epilogue

  MATT

  One month later

  “What made you come forward?” Robin Roberts did a great job hosting the interview. Every famous news anchor had begged for the job, but Parker had immediately taken a liking to Robin, something about her being one of Parker’s heroes growing up, and it was suddenly easy for Parker to turn every other reporter down. Besides, it was her story and she knew Robin would do an incredible job helping her share it with the world. I smiled as she tugged at her sleek black tank top and crossed her jean-clad legs. The same Valentino shoes I’d gotten her were on her feet for all the world to see. I loved that she went with a mixture of old Parker and new Parker, one that involved allowing me to buy her things like expensive shoes she didn’t need. And I loved that she wore them because she wanted a piece of me with her when she was interviewed for the first time.

  She looked breathtaking, sexy, confident. I couldn’t look away, and I’m sure most of America felt exactly the same. I felt nothing but pride for my girl as she proceeded to answer the question.

  “I had a lot of reasons, but mainly, my old agent and now boyfriend, Matt, gave me the strength to speak up, to find my own voice, and to be a role model for other women who may be in the same position—he’s everything to me.”

  And about to be more, she just didn’t know it yet.

  “Should have worn a dress,” Willow grumbled, taking a handful of popcorn while Jagger held the bowl up to her face like he was offering her a popcorn sacrifice and would do anything to stay on her good side.

  Parker groaned then covered her face with her hands. “It’s so weird seeing myself on TV.”

  “Get used to it.” I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her temple. “Not only are you the star player for the Seattle Reign, but Willow told me you just signed a deal with Adidas?”

  Parker beamed up at me. “Weird she may even be a better agent than you?”

  Jagger choked on his cough. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  “Oh?” Parker spread her arms wide. “Can’t hurt the talent, can you?”

  “Who said anything about pain?” I said in a low voice, grabbing her by the arm, tossing her over my shoulder, and marching her into our bedroom, just in time for Jagger to ask loudly if he needed to grab his handy ear plugs.

  He exaggerated how much noise we made.

  Or so we thought.

  And then he bought Willow a matching pair.

  Whatever, it was my house and now that renovations were close to being done, I couldn’t wait to share all of it with Parker.

  Forever.

  “You didn’t need the dress,” I said, setting her on her feet. “The jeans you wore were more you than a dress. You were . . . brilliant.” I pressed a heated kiss to her mouth and stepped back, my heart slamming against my ribs.

  Her smile fell. “Matt? What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to puke.”

  “Still might happen.” I gave my head a shake, turned around in a small circle, patted both pockets, and then just dropped like an idiot to both knees and looked up at her shocked expression. Her cheeks pinked and her hands shook as she covered her mouth.

  “Matt?”

  The door to my bedroom opened.

  Jagger and Willow stood with their phones held high like they were film students, wearing wide grins. My sister’s own engagement ring sparkled in the air. Bastard. I was still planning on throwing him off the balcony.

  “Parker.” My voice shook. “You are the bravest woman I know. You’re strong. You’re resilient, you’re beautiful, talented. It would take me an eternity to tell you all the things I find incredible about you, all the small details that I don’t think you even see when you look in the mirror. You are perfected chaos, crazy but in all the ways that make sense to me. I love you.” My voice cracked. “Be my wife?”

  Her hands fell at her sides as a single tear slid down her cheek, splattering onto the floor. “On one condition.”

  I frowned up at her. Wasn’t pre
pared for that. “Anything.”

  She leaned down. “I get the whistle.”

  I tried to hide my grin and failed. “Open the box.”

  She hesitated then reached for the blue Tiffany’s box, opened it, and burst into tears. “The red whistle!”

  “Somehow I figured you needed proof of my love, of my dedication, and I figured it was time you trained me.”

  Jagger laughed. “Attaboy!”

  Willow smacked him in the chest.

  “This,” Parker sobbed as she pulled me up into her arms, “is the best gift ever, because it’s us.”

  “It is us.” I held her tight and then pulled away and reached into my back pocket. “But since Tiffany’s wouldn’t just sell me a blue box, I got this too.”

  I held out a single-stone princess-cut ring. I knew Parker wouldn’t want something huge, she was an athlete after all, so I went for two karats with perfect clarity.

  Another gasp escaped her lips before she launched herself into my arms. “It’s perfect.”

  “The whistle or the ring?”

  “Both.” She kissed my neck, then grabbed me by the face with both hands, raining kisses all over me until she jumped back and held out her hands. “Now, put the ring on my finger.” Apparently I was going too slow because she blew the whistle, followed by, “Take off your pants.”

  “And that’s our cue.” Willow laughed, shutting the door quietly behind her and Jagger.

  “Seriously?” I faced Parker as she stared at her ring finger and then put the whistle back in her mouth and blew. “Fine! Fine!” I shrugged out of my jeans.

  “Wonderful.” Parker blew the whistle again. “Ten push-ups.”

  “Parker, that’s not really why I gave you the whistle—”

  “Ten push-ups or you’re doing burpees. Your choice, Matt.” She grinned and then tilted her head like she was seconds away from blowing the whistle again.

  “Son of a bitch.” I dropped to the ground, did my ten push-ups, then jumped to my feet a bit out of breath.

  “I think this is the start to a beautiful marriage.” She burst out laughing just as I lunged for her and tossed her onto the bed. The whistle went off at least ten more times before I managed to pry it from her mouth and hands, replacing it with me, my heat, my touch, my kiss.

  And then no more whistle. Only us in a tangle of clothes, laughter, and love. Exactly the way it was supposed to be all along.

  Acknowledgments

  I hate writing these because I always feel like there’s someone I forgot, probably because it takes a city to write a book (it really does, especially in this day and age). I’m so thankful to God that I’m able to write every day, that I’m able to create something out of nothing. I would not be here if it weren’t for Him.

  Thank you to my amazing husband, who’s always willing to take the little guy so I can have some extra hours working. He’s truly the best husband and my best friend. Thank you, Thor, for understanding that Mama has to work sometimes and that writing books makes it so that you can get fed (my new argument when he asks me to play trains every hour is that I need at least two of those hours to write per day, then we can play trains).

  Thank you to Nina at Social Butterfly for ALL THE THINGS, and truly she does all the things, from running ads to just keeping me sane (which I’m sure is more than a full-time job!). To Becca and Jill: You guys are incredible. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. To my admins who run the Rockin’ Reader group along with Jill and Ang and everyone else: it always puts a smile on my face to see you guys posting and asking book boyfriend questions! To my beta readers, Tracy, Krista, Georgia, Stephanie, Jill, Candace: Your honesty is always so huge to me. I love that when I ask you to be brutal, you guys don’t hold back!

  Erica, thank you for always being such a wonderful agent. It just seems to come so natural to you, probably because you are genuinely one of the best people I know. I consider you family, and I’m so happy to have you and Trident behind me.

  Maria, my editor, wine friend, and hummus-loving nut: You put a smile on my face every single time we talk. We get each other, and it’s always so fun brainstorming with you and working on every project with you and Melody, who is truly one of the best editors around! Which then, of course, makes me think of Kay Springsteen, who looks at every book before I turn it in to make sure that I haven’t forgotten to dress my characters. To the entire Skyscape team: you guys are a dream to work with.

  To all the bloggers who tirelessly share my books: from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

  And to the readers: I don’t think words will ever express how thankful I am for your support. You guys make me so happy, not just because you love reading like I do, but because you get just as involved and just as excited. It’s such a privilege being a part of this community, so thank you, and I hope you enjoyed Matt and Parker’s book!

  Hugs, RVD

  About the Author

  Photo © 2014 Lauren Watson Perry, Perrywinkle Photography

  Rachel Van Dyken is a Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and New York Times bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances, including the Red Card novels, Risky Play and Kickin’ It, and her Wingmen Inc. series, which has been optioned for film. A fan of The Bachelor, Starbucks coffee, and Swedish fish (not necessarily in that order), Rachel lives in Idaho with her husband and her adorable son. For more information about her books and upcoming events, visit www.RachelVanDykenauthor.com, and follow her on Twitter (@RachVD) and Facebook (@RachelVanDyken).