Hard Pass (Saints of Love Book 3)

by Elizabeth Perry

  Obviously not well enough. My gut twists at Cecilia’s hesitation.

  “I mean, it’s just a rumor, but I heard he hooked up with Madison once. It was weeks ago, though.”

  “Good for Cole.” I mutter.

  I hope he caught herpes.

  “Gia.” A warm tingle goes down my back and I freeze. Moving slowly, I turn my head in the direction of his voice. “You’re back.”

  Yeah. He found me. I foolishly thought that I could make it the entire day without having to do this. Turns out, I was wrong.

  Cold blue eyes tangle with mine, and all of the pep talks that I gave myself about how to handle this moment are lost.

  Three months since we were face to face, yet it feels like years. Staring up at him, I’m brought back to so many places, so many memories flooding me that I can hardly absorb them all. But then our last memory pushes through the rest, and the sour taste that he left me with fills me all over again.

  Fuck this guy. He dumped me and then hooked up with Madison James. I’ll bet it was post boob job.

  “Yep.” I take a step back and stare up at him. At six foot three and almost zero body fat, he’s tall and muscular, still towering over me. His hair is so blond from the sun that it’s nearly white. It’s longer on the top than it was last spring. It makes him look edgier, less like an Abercrombie and Fitch model and more like a goddamn Adonis. I suck in a gulp of air as his magnetic smile turns my way. I don’t want to act like this. Truly I don’t. It’s just…

  It’s nothing. My heart is pure, hard steel when it comes to this man.

  “You look amazing. As always.” I push down the butterflies threatening to erupt inside of me over his compliment. It’s not going to work this time, Cole. Not by a long shot.

  “Thanks.” I shrug him off. “Heard you lost your spot on the team. Bummer.”

  When his eyes darken, I beam. I meant to strike a nerve.

  “It’s bullshit.” His gorgeous features twist and his hands fist at his sides. Cole isn’t used to not getting what he wants so I’m sure he’s all sorts of upset, but he’s trying hard not to show it. “But I didn’t track you down to talk about football, Gia. I wanted to talk to you about…”

  “Madison?” I interrupt, fluttering my eyes up to him and fighting the urge to let my anger show. Twin spots of pink hit his cheekbones, and a muscle in his jaw pops. It’s only then that I notice the slight scruff to his chin. Damn that’s hot.

  “It’s fine. I already know. How do fake boobs feel anyways? Do they feel real? Or can you tell the difference?”

  “I don’t know, Gia.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “That was barely anything because I’ve been restraining myself all summer. Did she kiss me, yeah. But that was it.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.” I wave him off and then adjust my backpack, thankful for something to do with my hands. “We aren’t together anymore. You can do whatever you want.”

  His mouth opens to interject, but I already know what he’s going to say. We’ve done this, time and time again. Break up, make up, then proceed towards the finish line and break up again. We’re like a record on repeat, same song, same ending. Somehow, we always end up playing it again. But not this time. I’m not falling back into this pitiful circle. New year, new me.

  “I can too. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.” I march off before he can say anything else.

  5

  Wyatt

  Ancient History

  “Alright, that’s it!” I hear coach’s voice booming, but his words hardly register. I’m too busy trying to figure out if I’m still able to breathe. A ragged breath fills my lungs and I check it off the list. Sweet, lungs still work. I roll onto my side and only feel a twinge of pain. Ribs are intact, check.

  I’ve been creamed onto the field for the fifth time today, and I’m starting to think that this is the only position I’ll ever be in. My linebackers are missing their blocks. My wide receiver unable to catch my perfect throws. At this rate, I’m going to die on this turf. The lack of team players here at Camden is for sure a wakeup call.

  It’s not that these guys don’t know how to play football-they do. It’s just that I’ve entered the good ole boys club, and every single one of them has let me know that I don’t belong. The prince of Camden Prep, Cole Richards himself, has given a silent order to end my career here. His loyal subjects are all following suit.

  Coach extends a hand to me, lifting me to my feet. I jerk my helmet off and turn my neck side to side. Pain rushes down my back, but I push past it. Tomorrow’s going to be rough, but I’ll never show mercy out here on this field. Honestly, fuck these guys.

  “This isn’t how we play fucking football!” Coach’s eyes are beat red, and his face twisted in anger. “Richards, you’re missing every throw. James, if that’s how you plan on blocking this season the only place you’ll be is on the damn pine. And Anderson,” when his eyes shift to mine, my jaw clenches, “you trying to make love to the dirt, son? Keep your feet on the fucking ground.”

  As if I haven’t been fucking trying. I straighten out my pads, tighten the straps on my helmet, and bark at the team to get back into formation.

  The quarterback is supposed to run the team, and I’ve never had a problem doing so. Back at Tipton, my teammates listened to every order that came out of my mouth. Followed every play that I ordered, caught every pass that I threw. My linebackers protected me like a precious gem, blocking anyone who tried to take me down and clearing the path to the end zone when I wasn’t able to pass.

  But it’s different at Camden. None of these fuckers want to listen to me. No one is taking orders from me. Their loyalty lies with their prince.

  I don’t give a single fuck about fitting in with them, and I sure as hell don’t need to be one of the loyal subjects. But I do need them to get their shit together, because the only reason I’m here, on this fucking field to begin with, is to get noticed by the D1 powerhouse schools. Unlike these guys, I don’t have daddy’s money to put me through college. I don’t have a slush fund, or a backup plan. I only have football.

  Trust me, if I had any other feasible option for a future, I’d be on the first city bus out of here. But I don’t. This is it for me.

  So, I need these fuckers to fall into line.

  The whistle blows, and we try another play. Before the ball is even released from my hand, I’m shoved right back into the dirt.

  “Fuck this.” Coach’s clipboard smacks hard onto the ground, and he storms out onto the field fueled with rage. “We’re going to change some shit up.” Coach snatches the clipboard that he threw onto the ground in anger back into his hands.

  “Anderson, Richards, switch out positions. Let’s see if that gets the fucking ball into the end zone. Something’s got to give here.”

  “Coach.” I can’t even keep the look of shock off of my face. He wants me to switch into a wide receiver? There’s no fucking way that will work. I’m a quarterback. I’ve always been a quarterback. I didn’t switch schools my senior year to be anything less than that. “Fuck that. I came here to play quarterback. That’s my position…”

  “You came here to play football.” His voice booms across the field. “And if you want to keep playing football, then I suggest that you listen to me, Anderson. Because I’m not sure how things worked back at Tipton with Coach Andrews, but here? At Camden? What I say goes.”

  I fucking hate it here.

  6

  Wyatt

  Ancient History

  I’ll never openly admit it, but Coach switching my position was a blessing in disguise. Now that the prince has taken back his throne, the rest of his pawns have fallen into line. Cole’s arm has nothing on mine, but at the same time, there isn’t a guy on this team with my speed. Once I figured out how to get into place for his weak ass throws, I’ve been unstoppable.

  Three games under my belt, three wins, and three school records crushed by yours truly. So far this season, I’ve caught more pass
es than any WR in Camden history. Rushed over one hundred yards per game and listened to the crowd chant my name. The sound of it is intoxicating.

  I’ve gotten used to the flash of the cameras, the microphones shoved in my face after each game, but the part that I hope never gets old, is the roar that ripples through the crowd as I’m making my sweet dash towards the end zone.

  The team still keeps me at an arm's length, not that I give a fuck. I’m here to land a scholarship, not make new friends. These aren’t my people anyways.

  “Anderson! Great game!” shouts a guy that I recognize from my fifth hour.

  I wave.

  “Great game, bro.” My little sister Willow makes her way out onto the field as the student section rushes the team. I separate myself from them and tuck my sister underneath my arm, moving us away from the crowd.

  “Thanks, kid.” While the rest of the team is heading out to prince Cole’s house to celebrate, I’m heading back to the city on the bus with my sister. I’ve got way too much on the line to get caught at some party with a bunch of people who would sell me out in an instant. Plus, I already have to tolerate them enough. No way are they getting a part of my weekend, too. We make it out to the parking lot, which is jammed packed full of people. A few fans high five me and tell me good game. I acknowledge them of course, because I’m not an asshole, but I don’t pause too long. It’s already after dark, and we’ve got a good mile to walk to the bus station. My body’s tired and I’m ready for a hot shower and my bed. Plus, I’m ready to get the fuck away from this crowd. But just as we make our way to the sidewalk, a flash of dark hair catches my eye.

  Gia.

  She looks like she’s trying to get out of here just as fast as I am. The only problem is that she’s not watching where she’s going and face plants directly into my chest.

  “Oh, shit!” she cries out, falling backwards and landing on her ass. I lean over and extend a hand. When her eyes meet mine, her pale cheeks turn pink.

  “I know I’m insanely good looking, sweetheart, but there’s no need to fall all over me.”

  Willow immediately groans, and Gia rolls her gorgeous blue eyes, her milky white cheeks flushing an adorable pink.

  “Good at football and humble,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I knew that you fit in here more than you wanted to admit.”

  “Har har.” We both know that’s bullshit. “Your words slice me.”

  She dusts herself off and glances at Willow, tilting her head to the side and then pursing her lips.

  “You must be the king’s queen.” She finally extends her hand. “Forgive me for not bowing. I’m Gia.”

  Willow takes zero offense and laughs. “First of all, don’t call my brother a king. He’s got a big enough head already. And I’m Willow, Wyatt’s sister.”

  “Gia!” The sound of his voice grates across every surface of me. My body immediately tenses, and my lip sneers as Cole jogs through the crowd, not seeming to mind how many people he nearly runs over, before skidding to a stop in front of us.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Conner said that you weren’t coming to the party. Why not?”

  “Seriously?” Gia turns her gorgeous eyes in his direction. I study her profile, feeling my heart swell a bit in my chest.

  The girl is a complete fox. Long, wavy, dark hair, huge, blue eyes, and a body sculpted to perfection; she’s a petite thing but feisty as a colt. I take in her creamy, pale skin, letting my eyes roam over the soft swells pushing up through the V-neck of her shirt.

  A body meant for worshipping, that’s for damn sure. Yeah, a girl like her could easily get under my skin so fucking badly. Good thing I’m not planning on letting her.

  “I’m not going to your party. I heard Madison is, though. I also heard that if you get her drunk enough, she’s down for anal. I’m sure you already know that, though.”

  “Gia.” Cole reaches out, grabbing ahold of her wrist. My eyes fix on the spot where his hand clutches her skin. A mixture of jealousy and anger smacks into me without warning.

  “Baby, enough, alright? You know how I feel about you. How long are you going to make me grovel?”

  “Hopefully until the end of time.” She shrugs out of his grasp and then shoos him off. “One of these days. you’ll get the memo.”

  It’s only then, at her dismissal, that Cole even notices me standing here. The second that his eyes move up to mine, they narrow, and anger floods his features. He opens his mouth to say something, but then his name is shouted, and his attention shifts. He looks reluctant to walk away, but upon his friend’s insistence, finally, he does.

  That was the moment that I learned exactly what Gia was.

  The Princess of Camden Prep.

  “Couple of things you gotta get through your skull, charity case.” The football is slammed into my chest but not hard enough to knock the wind out of me. It takes a lot to do that these days. I spent the entire summer getting knocked on my ass by these guys. Once I make it to the pros, I’ll have to remember to dedicate a speech to them.

  “To all of the stupid fucks back at Camden High…”

  “Yeah?” I lift my chin in his direction. “What’s that? The fact that I’m a better QB than you all damn day?”

  “Fuck off,” Cole mutters, his eyes narrowing on mine. By the time that he leans over to mutter words in my direction, his face is taut with anger. “Nah, bro. The fact that Gia is mine. She’s always been mine, and she’s always going to be mine.”

  I glance over at the dark-haired vixen, currently jogging around the track.

  I get it, trust me I fucking do. A man has to stake his claim on a girl like that. Otherwise any grubby ole fucker will try to put down the moves. The only problem with Coles statement, is that I really don’t give a fuck.

  Also, I don’t think it’s true.

  “She doesn’t act like she’s yours.” As she rounds the track, facing us, I throw my hand up in a wave. Her entire face breaks out into a smile, and her hand rises. Cole grabs my hand with his fist and shoves it back down at my side.

  “Maybe this shit works for you around here, bro.” I jerk my hand away from his, growling my words. “But it won’t work with me. You think that you can put your hands on me because I’m not allowed to fight back. I get it. But I’ve only got six more months. Six months til I’m done with this place, so don’t push me, dick. I’ll beat your ass into the ground until you admit the fact that you’re my bitch.”

  “Stay away from her.” His words fall upon deaf ears. “She’s off limits. Every goddamn person in this school knows that.”

  “Not everyone.”

  He looks like he wants to hit me. I lean forward, putting my face even closer for him to strike. You see, being here on scholarship means that I’m not allowed to start a fight. Instigating such a thing would get me on the first city bus back to Tipton. But if I’m struck first? I can pound his dickhead face into the pavement, and no one can say a damn thing about it.

  The beauty of self-defense.

  “Boys!” Coach’s voice booms across the field. “Break time is over!”

  You know what else is over? Cole Richards reign over this school. Because while he may be the prince, he’s given me valuable ammunition on how to ruin him. He just committed the very biggest mistake, all with the simple stroke of his tongue.

  He let me know his weak spot. The easiest way to throw over his throne, is to hit him where it hurts. As foxy as his Princess is, I can assure you, my school year just started to look up.

  “Fuck.” I flip my history test over, my hand smacking hard on the desk as I force the big, red, F out of my sight. I glance at Gia’s paper, seeing a large A with a smiley face at the top.

  A knockout and smart as a whip. No wonder Cole’s got such a hard on for her. I run my hands down my face, trying to figure out my next move. I can’t become ineligible to play football. That’s the largest part of my scholarship, and yet again, I’m in danger of losing it. If I do, all of the
bullshit that I’ve dealt with for the last three months will have been in vain. I can’t let that happen.

  “I can help you.” Gia leans over, her words hardly above a whisper in my ear. As I turn in her direction, I realize too late just how close she is. Our noses practically brush, causing her to suck in air. The sound of it is hot as fuck.

  “Why would you want to help me, Princess? I’m your prince’s biggest enemy.”

  “My prince?” A single brow raises in my direction. “Is that why you call me Princess?”

  I shrug. I’ve been calling her it for the last few days, and honestly, it just fits. She’s obviously royalty around here because she says whatever the fuck she wants to people and no one bothers to correct her. Not that she’s mean or anything. She’s just outspoken, blunt. If something needs to be said, you can count on Gia being the one to say it.

  “I’d prefer queen, to be honest.” She smirks. “A queen without a king.”

  “Every queen needs a king.” My eyes flick up to hers. Humor dances just underneath the surface of her gorgeous blue eyes, striking me right in the heart.

  “Says who?”

  “History.”

  “Depends on where you get your history from.” She taps her pencil against the red mark on my paper. “I’m guessing we don’t get it from the same place, because historically speaking, a queen without a king is much more powerful. You should crack your book more often, hot shot.”

  The bell rings, and she slides my test back to me before collecting her things. It’s only after I give my test one last look that I see the words scrawled across the bottom.

  For a good time, call…just kidding. Call me, and I’ll tutor you. xoxo

  7

  Gia

  Ancient History