by Teagan Kade
So, the younger one seems to have a shred of compassion. Pretty sure he didn’t get that from cozying up to my father.
I sigh and address him as I addressed his friend. “I’m not going. If you try to force me, I will scream.” I point to people in the distance. “There are witnesses,” I say, pointing now to trees. “And cameras.”
I don’t think there are cameras here at all, but they don’t need to know that. Like I said, not the sharpest tools in the shed.
“So, move along and let me get on with my life. Oh,” I add. “And tell my father to go to hell.”
They look to one another, the older one itching to start something, but I know I’ve got the upper hand here. The older one smiles and tilts his head, all of them piling back into the SUV, which takes off far faster than necessary.
I’m shaking when I pick up my bag, the nerves I’ve been holding off turning to piano wire inside me. Even my gut hurts.
I’ve got practice but I’m not hanging around here a second longer than I have to, especially not after nightfall. I run, don’t walk, all the way back to the King residence.
*
I’m upset by my father’s attitude, at his presumption I’d just go along with his stupid fucking plans. Who does he think is?
For a split second I try to put myself in his shoes, understand his position, but I can’t.
Because you’re not a monster, my head tells me.
Nolan hasn’t come home yet.
I’m on autopilot, sitting on the sofa in his room downing Reese’s Pieces like they’re Tic-Tacs, watching Glow (again), wishing I looked that good in spandex.
I don’t think Nolan minds what you’re wearing, even if it’s nothing at all.
This is why I answer my cell automatically when it starts to ring, thinking this is the perfect opportunity for a bit of phone sex.
“Cock,” I state aloud, trying to get a feel for the word before I put into practice.
I answer. “You rang, big boy?”
“Linnea, it’s Coach Hamilton.”
Oh, shit.
“Ah, um, sorry, Coach.”
“You weren’t at practice today,” she states.
I should have expected a follow-up call like this. Coach is infamous her hardline on attendance. “Yes, sorry. I wasn’t feeling so great.”
“Cramps? IBS? Impaled by a fence post? Because you know I couldn’t care less for these kind of excuses, Marsden.”
It’s true. She once rang Carrie, who was in the hospital following a burst appendix, blasting her for not showing.
“You sound fine.”
I could be sitting here on fire, but sure. “Like I said, I’m sorry, Coach.”
“Sorry doesn’t improve your jump shot, does it? The scouts are on the hunt and you need to be on your A-game here, Marsden. I know you’re a senior and those greener pastures a-yonder are calling, but while you are at Crestfall, you are mine. Don’t screw this up, capisce?”
“Understood. I’ll be there tomorrow with bells on.”
“Forget the bells. Just bring your game.”
She hangs up.
I hold the phone away from myself, stare at it in a sort of suspended disbelief.
And they say I’m a hardass.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NOLAN
I arrive home late afternoon, stepping into my room to find Linnea already there. I thought she had practice.
She’s dressed in a Lakers tee and blue leggings, making that kind of casual attire somehow look incredible.
Instead, for some stupid reason, I say, “Not what I was expecting.”
“What? You expected to find me in my birthday suit with a bottle of chocolate sauce and a blindfold?”
I stand in the middle of the room and place my hands on my hips, laughing. “You wouldn’t believe the kind of kinky options those two items are conjuring up right now.”
She walks past me and does a perfect forward roll onto the sofa, coming up into a sitting position and reaching for a giant bowl of Reese’s Pieces. Given the packets strewn across the table, she might want to look into shares. Two girls in bright spandex are wrestling on the TV. “You want to know what I want to conjure up?” she tells me. “A hole.”
I take a seat beside her, place my hand on her knee. “Rough day?”
I’m approaching with caution here. Clearly, she’s not in the best mood. I don’t think it was anything I did, which leaves, what? Something at the Academy? Fight with a friend?
She answers my own question. “My father’s goons showed up again today.”
The playful mood I was in darkens. “What?”
She pops a Reese’s Piece into her mouth, talks while chewing. “Blocked me in, told me they were taking me to see a wedding planner, believe it or not.”
I can’t believe it. I fucking knew that asshole wasn’t done with this shit. Worse, I realize I shouldn’t be letting Linnea get around campus alone.
I stand, pacing in front of the sofa. “Wait, so you’re saying they tried to take you from the street against your will?”
“That’s right, but they couldn’t. Too public. I told them to fuck off and they did, reluctantly.”
I’m seething, holding a fist in hand and squeezing my knuckles. I’d love to get Rex on the ice—just him and me. I’d check that fucker so hard he’d wind up in the back row. But Linnea’s my concern right now. She has to be. “Are you all right?”
She lifts her shoulders, appears to sink deeper into the sofa. “A bit shaken, but I don’t scare easily. There’s no need to worry. I did skip practice, though, which didn’t go down so well with Coach.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
She shrugs again. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to bother you with all this, drag you into my mess. You’ve done enough.”
“Our mess,” I correct.
“I’m sure you’ve got plenty to worry about yourself, what with your brothers, hockey…”
I get down onto my knees in front of her and cup her face. “My brothers can handle themselves. You are my concern, Linnea.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. That’s when it occurs to me, the solution to everything. I tease and prod at the idea, but it’s only for a moment. It feels right, deep inside me, and that’s when I know I have to act.
I let my hands drop to her knees. “I’ll marry you.”
She half chokes on the Reese’s Pieces she just popped into her mouth, swallowing hard and reaching for her throat. “Say what now?”
“It’s the solution to everything. I’ll marry you and that will be the end of your father’s machinations.”
Machinations? Where the hell did that come from? I ponder.
“You’re crazy.”
I shake my head. “No, not crazy at all. I don’t think I’ve been as sure as anything in my life. Well, maybe Tampa Bay taking the Stanley Cup, but I’m telling you, I’m serious.”
“You’ve come ill-prepared if this is a marriage proposal.”
“I’m on my knees, aren’t I?”
“Plural, and where’s the ring?”
He pulls off his family ring and holds it out to me. “Not exactly your style, but call it an IOU.”
I take the ring and flip it over in my fingers. “Looks like an octopus.”
“It’s an elephant.”
“Elephant, octopus—same, same.”
I clasp her hands together, make sure I have her full attention. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me, Linnea Marsden?”
This time I can see her processing the question, planning out a future and testing to see if it fits. “You’re being totally sincere here? A random King brother isn’t about to burst in and proclaim this the prank of the century?”
I nod. “I’m serious. There will only ever be one One for me, and it’s you—ignoring the terrible grammar there. And yes, I know that sounds insane, but from the first time we met, I felt it, that pull to you, the rollercoaster sitting at the top of the hil
l before the dive—that’s the feeling I get every time I look into your eyes. Did I expect to fall for you like this? Hell, no. I didn’t plan for it, but holy shit am I happy I did.”
She relaxes and starts nodding herself. “And if I say yes?”
“I’ll make you happiest woman in the world.”
“You are on your knees, so that’s a good start.”
Her smile is infectious. I let my hands come to her knees and slowly spread her legs apart. “Perhaps I could sweeten the deal?”
She closes them, running a hand through my hair. She places the ring back on my finger. “Tempting, on both accounts, but I have to think about it. You have my word.”
But not the word I wanted.
I try to drive the disappointment away, remind myself this isn’t a ‘no.’ This was an opportunity, a way to cut through months of dating and waiting to get what I really want.
“You’re sweet, you know,” she tells me, eyes suddenly sadder than usual.
“You’ll think about it?”
“I already promised, didn’t I?”
I was hoping for a firmer answer, but I nod all the same. I climb onto the sofa beside her and reach for the bowl.
We watch TV together for a while, order in pizza so we don’t have to deal with the rabble downstairs.
When she’s asleep, I carry her to bed and sit on the edge watching the soft movement of her chest. Her lips are barely parted, nostrils flaring with each intake of breath.
“You will be my wife,” I whisper. “So help me God.” I realize I sound like a possessive creep in the process, but I can’t help it. Linnea has become my everything, my forever. I won’t let Rex Marsden take that away. I won’t let anyone.
What started as a bit of fun has evolved into so much more. Even my brothers are on board, though the lot of them have become hopeless romantics, had the testosterone scrubbed clean out of their systems.
Mostly.
I lie beside Linnea on the bed and stare upwards. I close my eyes but sleep is not forthcoming. I’m worrying about her, wondering whether she’ll accept my proposal, wondering what I should, or could, do to sway her over.
But there’s only one thing I can do.
Wait.
And it’s killing me already.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LINNEA
The topic of the proposal doesn’t come up again in the following days. Nolan’s leaving me space to think, and thinking I am. We go out, make out, and I feel like a teenager all over again.
It’s been nice, but still the problems with my father cast a shadow over everything. I know Nolan will do whatever it takes to protect me, but I know what my father is capable of. If something were to happen to Nolan, I’d never forgive myself.
“Linnea Marsden?”
I’m at the entrance to the arena, about to head in for practice when a woman approaches me. She’s dressed to the nines, boxed up and shipped directly from New York by the look of it. I can’t tell if it’s a dress she’s wearing or something she pinched from the Guggenheim.
I stop walking. “Yes?” I reply cautiously.
She extends her hand. “I’m Maria Saens, your wedding planner.”
At first, I think this is Nolan’s doing, both admiring and loathing his persistence, but then the more likely answer becomes clear. “My father sent you, didn’t he?”
I see slight hesitation register on those medically smoothed features of hers. “He did.”
I look to the sky and draw in a deep breath, returning to Maria. “Not interested, thanks.”
I keep walking.
She trails at a distance. “Please, Linnea. I’ve got the most gorgeous—”
But I’m through the doors before she can get out the rest. I stop by the administration desk at the front of the gym, leaning over and speaking in a low voice. “I think there’s a crazy woman outside. She’s not a student or a teacher. Should we call campus security?”
The administrator looks through the double doors and spots her immediately, lifting up the phone receiver. “Let me give them a call.”
It’s evil. I’m sure this Maria is a perfectly fine human being, but the opportunity to get one over my father is too good to pass up.
Carrie sees me smiling as I come onto the court. “You’re looking chipper today. Long night with Sir Supercock?”
I pick up a basketball from the rack and start to dribble in between my legs. “You make it sound like I’m dating his father.”
“Have you seen Stone King? Guy is a total silver fox.”
I laugh. “I’m sure there are plenty of sugar daddies around Crestfall if that’s what you’re into.”
She leans against the rack. “At the moment I’d be into anything with two legs and half a brain willing to run one through me.”
“Ah, Carrie. Always such a way with words. You’ll find your Mr. Right.”
She takes a ball and starts for the key, shouting. “Not in this shithole I won’t.”
Practice goes better than expected. My game is back on track and I’m certain I can deliver. The idea of playing in the WNBA, of finally realizing my dream, is within grasp. But the funny thing? Nolan has somehow inserted himself into the fantasy. I picture myself on court and he’s there on the sidelines cheering me on. He’s in the background when I’m being interviewed, inducted into the Hall of Fame, signing jerseys… He’s always there. I don’t know what to read into it only that I want him in my life.
On Nolan’s orders, Carrie walks home with me.
I fish for the keys Nolan gave me at the door.
“You mind if I hang for a bit? Carrie asks. “My roommates on a mid-afternoon sex-a-thon.”
I find my keys and unlock the door, pushing it open. “If you’re hoping to find a random King brother buck naked, you’re going to be disappointed. They’re all out.”
I walk in. “Hello?” I call, but no one’s here, not even the girls—a rarity.
“You hungry?” I ask Carrie.
She whistles behind me, looking around in wonder. “Damn. So this is how the other half live.”
“Just don’t go in the bedrooms,” I warn. “You hungry?”
I toss my bag and keys onto the kitchen counter and head straight for the fridge.
“I could eat,” Carrie replies.
I’ve got an armful of sandwich ingredients when my cell starts to ring. I fumble everything onto the counter and take it out, seeing the number is listed private. I answer. “Linnea here.”
Carrie mouths ‘Bathroom’, pointing down the hall. I nod and point left, watch her disappear around the corner.
“That was quite the stunt you pulled this morning.”
I sigh and lean against the counter. I shouldn’t have answered. I should get a new number. “All in good fun, father.”
“She’s one of the best wedding planners in the country, Linnea. You have no idea how hard it was to get her out here.”
“Funny that, you have no idea how easy it was to get her off campus,” I fire back.
“Mmm,” he mumbles. “I’m happy to find a different planner if she wasn’t…your style.”
I reach up to hold my elbow. “And what, do tell, is my style?”
“Let’s not do this shall we, Linnea, this dance. We both know this is for the best. I care about you, I do.”
I try not to let the irritation filter into my voice. “Don’t even go there. You have no right.”
He abandons that and replies with something far more familiar. “You will marry Harry, Linnea.”
The rhyming is mildly amusing, I can’t take his arrogance a second longer. “I’m marrying Nolan. You’re too late.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs.
“Don’t call me, don’t try to fucking kidnap me again, and definitely don’t try to stop this, because it’s happening. Goodbye,” I tell him, hanging up.
“Are you really? Getting married?”
I spin to see Carrie entering the room. I’d forgot
ten all about her, placing the cell down and tossing my ponytail over my shoulder.
Am I really going to marry Nolan? It’s the question of the hour. I can think of all the reasons it’s a bad idea. We haven’t been together long. We’re young. We’re different in many ways, but I ignore them all, ignore everything telling me to say no and instead tell Carrie, “Yes, we are.”
She looks shocked. “Wow, you sure?”
I nod and realize I am. Fuck it. I am. “Yeah,” I reply. “It makes sense.”
Carrie raises an eyebrow. “It does?”
I’m thankful for her honesty at least. I laugh. “No. It makes no sense at all, but that doesn’t mean it’s not right, and it feels right, Carrie. It feels like the easiest decision of my life.”
“Does he know?”
“What?”
“You’re getting married.”
Good point. “Not yet.”
She moves past me to the kitchen counter, starts assembling a sandwich as if the news is already forgotten. “What are you waiting for then? Swipe up that cell and let him know.”
“I think I should do it person.”
“He’s back at the Academy?”
I nod.
“Can I at least finish my sandwich?”
“No, you stay here,” I tell her. “I’ll be fine.”
“But he said…”
“I know what he said, but seriously. No one’s going to stop me getting me to him.”
Carrie stops what she’s doing. “You are absolutely sure?”
“About going alone?”
“About marrying him, dumbass.”
“I am,” I reply.
“Okay,” smiles Carrie.
“Okay.”
There’s a second more before I swipe up my keys and head out the door, calling, “Lock the door on the way out. Oh, and the chocolate stash is in the vegetable drawer.”
“Thanking you!” shouts Carrie back.
I start to run, excited about the idea of telling Nolan the good news. I let it build, this feeling of elation, but it doesn’t dissipate. It grows the whole way there, blooming and filling out into a future I can almost taste, touch.