Unbridled (The Monroe Series Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Unbridled
By Nicole Dykes
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Acknowledgments:
Sneak Peek:
Prologue
“Hey, aren’t you Luke Monroe?”She’s hot, I’ll give her that. Perky tits, long legs, pretty face—all the requirements for a good time.
No doubt she thinks the smirk I have on my face is an invitation, but really it’s because the question is so fucked up. Everyone on this campus knows me. This chick’s even waiting outside the football training facility, probably waiting to ambush me. It’s not like it’s the first time this has happened.
“Yep.”
“Maybe I’ll see you at the Sig party Friday.”
The third invite today, and I’m not even kidding. Everyone wants me at their parties because everyone wants a piece of Luke Monroe, especially the girls.
You probably remember me as Dylan Monroe's little brother. Yeah, that used to be me because I've lived most of my life in my big brother's shadow. My entire life I've tried to be just like him even when I was pissed at him for writing all of us off for three years.
There are definitely the physical similarities, we do have the same father after all. I keep my dark hair longer, but our dark eyes are nearly identical. We’re both tall with muscles, but since I spend every day in the gym, I’m now larger. Constant conditioning and practice five days a week for a Big 12 football team will do that.
It used to be that everywhere I went people would ask me, "Aren't you Dylan Monroe's kid brother?" I was feared and respected by the tough guys, chased after by girls, and kept an eye on by the teachers when they heard my last name.
All of that is different now. Walking around the campus of Kansas State University, it’s my name that is first out of people's mouths. Lucas Fucking Monroe, starting freshman wide receiver for the Kansas State Wildcats. That's me.
I had a choice to make my senior year of high school. Six Division 1 universities wanted me to join their football programs, but my brother and his business partner, Jackson, offered me a job in their custom bike shop. It would pretty much be a partnership. I am in-fucking-credible at designing kick-ass dirt bikes and customized motorcycles. My first customer was Adam Shriller, the motocross champion. See? I’m multi-talented and well connected.
Even though I had the chance to rule the world in the bike shop, I ultimately chose college football on a full-ride athletic scholarship. Both choices seem like the fucking dream, right? So how do you think I made that decision? For me, it all came down to one thing: my dad.
When I was sixteen, he was killed in a car accident with my mom. It was his dream for me to play college football. That had been the plan for himself, too. But he ended up getting Dylan’s mom pregnant in high school and "did the right thing" by marrying her. He started working as a mechanic, and that was the beginning of the end of his dreams.
He talked about it a lot with me starting at a very young age. And when he saw my talent out on the field, I could see that little twinkle in his eye. Being great on the field was the only time I ever felt my old man was truly proud of me. He would talk to me for hours about my future playing college ball. So when I had the option to do it or work with my brother, I had to take it. The bike shop will still be there after football.
So here I am, the king of this campus. I’m beginning my second semester of college fresh off of a bowl game win and living the life. Girls, parties, anything I want. Except like everything else, it comes at a price. My ass belongs to K-State, and it feels like I can't fucking take a breath without their say so.
I still can’t believe I signed up for an eleven o’clock curfew by agreeing to play on the team. Not to mention, there’s no way I can get by with skipping the lame-ass classes that bore me to death since I have to check-in with an academic advisor. He’s there to make sure I keep my grades up to maintain a certain grade point average, as required by the NCAA.
Then there’s the training. During the season, we’re either in the gym for 20 hours a week or on the field, if we’re not watching game film over and over. Right now, we’re running plays for spring football games that will begin in April and still putting in 15-20 hours conditioning every week. And the training won’t stop when summer gets here because I’ll still have to do 10-15 hours every week in the gym to be ready for practice in August for preseason camp. You know those nice long breaks that college kids get? I don't. Free-ride, my ass.
I don’t mind the long hours of training, and I have managed quite a few times to get around the curfew. What’s driving me crazy right now is the fact that I can’t live off campus because I’m a freshman athlete, so I have to share a suite with another player in the athletic dorm. I just keep telling myself that this last bullshit rule is almost over, and you can guarantee that I’l
l be getting my own house next year. No more curfew after that. If you know me at all you know I hate fucking rules. Hate them. And right now that's all my life is—one goddamn rule after another.
Chapter 1
Luke
I make my way up the snow covered hill on my way to Econ with Hunter and Cameron, and there’s no way I miss the huddle of girls watching us. Cameron, I know, is returning their bold stares. Hunter, not so much. Like me, Cameron has no problem getting his share of girls who chase anyone wearing a football jersey. Hunter definitely could, but he doesn’t. The first day of preseason practice he earned his nickname Choir Boy, and wouldn’t you know, he’s my roommate.
“I’m liking the way the little dark-haired one is looking at me,” Cameron says loud enough for them to hear. Enjoying the attention, she bats her lashes at him.
Noticing the way the tall blond has all her attention on me, I give her a wink. She turns all the way around, no doubt to get a good view of me walking away. If I didn’t have to check-in for class, I’d be finding the nearest janitor’s closet and inviting her to join me.
“Lucas Monroe, where the hell have you been?” Shit. I recognize the shrill voice of Allison, a chick I dated a couple of months ago, before bowl season started. By date, I mean I fed her and then took her to bed. Then she got too damn clingy and annoying, and I had to drop that bad habit. I cringe at her calling me Lucas. She doesn’t know me well enough to call me that.
Cam, Hunter and I all stop walking and then I feel her hand on my shoulder to make me turn around. She glares up at me with squinty eyes. “Why haven’t you called me or returned any of my calls?”
My friends call me a serial dater, but I'm not necessarily a player. I don't just fuck a girl once and then leave, well most of the time. Usually, I take a little bit of time—hang out, go out on dates, have lots of hot sex, and then when I get bored, move on. There are way too many hot chicks out there to be with just one for too long. This is basically what I told her when she called me after she got back to campus two days ago. Yeah, I know I'm an asshole, but at least I'm an honest asshole.
I zip my coat up a little higher against the cold breeze. "I've been around, Allison."
She still has her gloved hands on her hips and toes pointed directly at me, "Well, you haven't answered my calls."
"Yeah, I know. And I told you two days ago I wouldn’t be. You do remember that call don’t you? Plus, I’ve been busy.”
Her eyes narrow, "Busy with who? What's her name?"
I roll my eyes. Jesus, she's intense. She’s a dedicated jersey chaser, but now that dedication is a total turnoff. I need to get her the hell away from me, for good. "You don’t need to worry about what I’ve been busy doing.”
This is where my brother and I differ. Dylan would probably feed her some bullshit excuse about work or school or bad timing. Not me. I say it like it is because I simply don’t have the time or energy for girls who become Class A clingers. They all know the score before they ever hook up with me. I have to admit it’s backfired on me in the past. In fact, it got me kneed in the balls my senior year of high school, but fuck it. "Since we aren't fucking anymore, there really isn't a reason to answer your calls. I told you all of this two days ago. Move on, Allison."
I see Cameron and Hunter brace themselves for the inevitable backlash from my probably far-too-honest and less-than-gentle comment. She just stands there glaring at me with her mouth rounded in a perfect “O.” I used to like that pretty little mouth until I heard she called me her boyfriend. Now, it annoys the hell out of me.
"Really, so that’s all it was? Just sex?"
"Pretty much, but don’t forget we had a good time together. You were fun to hang out with. Now, not so much.” That's the truth. I always have fun, until I don’t. Something always stops me from trying to form any kind of connection. That's all it ever is, just a good time. I don’t talk about feelings. I don’t make promises. I never ask for more than hanging out, maybe a meal or two, and of course, sex. Only things I like to talk about are football, bikes, movies, or music. Nice and easy is just the way I like it.
“I thought you cared about me. We saw each other every day for a month,” she whines.
“It was more for a few weeks, and it damn sure wasn’t every day. You do realize I’m on a pretty short leash around here, and I’m not looking for an even shorter one.”
“You are a selfish prick, Lucas Monroe.” With that, she spins and rushes off.
Damn. That was a little dramatic.
I genuinely don’t know what the hell she is so mad about. We had a good time, and now it’s over.
I turn to see Cameron laughing his ass off and Hunter shaking his head. By the time we make it inside the old stone building, I’ve reclaimed my calm. You would think the confrontation with Alison would affect me; but it doesn’t, not even a little bit.
The three of us check-in with our advisor, Anthony. He’s the guy K-State appointed in this class to keep tabs on us. Not only do we have to check-in with him before class, but we have to check-in with him after class as well. That’s to make sure we don’t skip out after checking-in. Fun, right? More like ridiculous.
After checking-in, I take my seat next to Hunter in the large lecture hall and wait for the mousey, forty-something professor to arrive and try and cram as much information as she can into a whole hour. While we’re waiting Hunter puts his feet up on the back of the chair in front of him, “You know you were kind of a dick to Allison.”
“How so?”
“Really? Come on man, that girl followed you around like a puppy, and then you just dismissed her.”
Cameron adds in, “Yeah, that was pretty cold, man.”
I can’t believe they think that. What was I supposed to do? Marry her? Yeah, right. I settle in and then the professor comes in for a mind-numbing hour. When the clock finally ticks on the hour, I jump out of my seat and head over to Anthony at the back of the classroom. He writes my name down.
And then I see her—a fucking ghost from my past.
Hunter pats my shoulder to get my attention while I’m staring like an idiot at the petite girl, with her strawberry-blond hair pulled up in a ponytail, slipping her heavy coat over her K-State sweatshirt. She looks different, but I’m certain it’s her. I ignore Hunter and walk over to her.
“Hannah?”
Her eyes. Those fucking eyes. An icy blue that is almost crystal clear, not hidden at all by her black-framed glasses. She looks older, more mature, and maybe a little cold. But it’s her. She doesn’t look surprised at all to see me. “Hi, Lucas.”
When she calls me “Lucas,” it doesn’t affect me at all negatively. She’s always called me Lucas since we were five years old. “What are you doing here? I would have thought your dad would send you to college in Texas.”
She slips her backpack over one small shoulder. “Well, that would have been his preference, but I landed a full academic scholarship here, and he couldn’t really say no.”
“Wow. That’s great. I’m here on a scholarship too.”
She heads for the exit, and I walk alongside her, “Yes, I know.”
“So you knew I went here?”
She looks at me like I’m crazy, “Yes, I think everyone on campus knows you go to school here. You’re kinda hard to miss. I think I’ve already seen your picture on the front of the Kansas State Collegian three times this year.”
“So, why didn’t you try to contact me?”
“I’m sure you’re very busy.”
Yeah, I’m not buying that at all. But what the fuck? How can she not be thrilled to see me again? “Okay, well what are you doing now? Let’s go catch up.”
“I can’t. I have a class across campus and another an hour after that.”
“Okay, so after classes.”
“After class, I have a study group, and then I have a paper to write. I’m here on an academic scholarship. I can’t just mess around.”
Jesus, she’s changed. This can�
�t be the girl that used to dare me to do a ton of crazy shit. It’s only been about five years, but she has changed in ways I can’t put my finger on. “Okay, so what about this weekend?”
Way to fucking beg, man.
“I can’t. I work at Hale Library on the weekends, and I always have a lot of homework. I have a huge class load this semester. It was good to see you. I’ll see ya around.”
With that, she’s out the door as fast as she can go. I turn to see Hunter and Cameron both laughing their asses off at me for the second time today. I walk over to them, “What the hell are you guys laughing at?”
Hunter stops laughing enough to answer me, “She wanted no part of you, man. Sorry, but that was awesome to see. I’ve never seen you blown off before. Swear to God, I’m pissed I didn’t record that shit.”
“Yeah, fuck you both.”
With that, I head to my required hour of weight training at the gym, something I actually like to do. Working out has always cleared my head.
After that I make the short walk back to my dorm room that I share with Choir Boy. After a shower, I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling with my Algebra 101 book lying open next to me. I really should do my homework, but I can’t get her out of my head.
My phone dings, and I immediately check it. Do you really think it’s going to be her dumbass?
Brooke: How is school going?
I shake my head. Brooke is my older brother Dylan’s fiancé. She used to be my family’s social worker. Fucked up I know, but they are unbelievably happy together, and she has taken on a mother-role for my three younger siblings. She still tries to mother me.
Me: Good
Brooke: Well if you need anything from me please let me know. I know we seem busy with all of the wedding stuff, but we’ll always be here for you.
Me: I know. Thanks.
I shake my head again. I’ve actually really grown to love Brooke, but I’m not really in the mood to talk. I rarely am. She would eat this shit up with Hannah, though.
Hannah Martin. Shit. We met when we were both barely five, She was born in May, I was born in April. We are literally one month apart. She lived three houses down from me, and our mothers became friends. We were inseparable. From the first day of kindergarten, we saw each other every single day. When something good happened to me, I told Hannah. When something bad happened to me, I told Hannah. It was that way with her as well.