Balls: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (A Cruz Boys Novel Book 1)

by Danielle Slater

  I jumped out of my seat and headed for the door.

  Rafael Martinez might have been a little punk trying to steal my position, but he was my teammate and nobody messed with my guys without paying the price.

  With Rodrigo at my heels, we ran down the back hall and came out in time to see an absolutely gargantuan guy with a shock of flaming red hair double Martinez over with a crushing blow to the gut.

  His three drunk friends jumped in when my guys attacked the brute beating on Martinez. The other people in the bar backed away, creating a circle of safety around the unfolding chaos. I launched over a table and landed on Red’s back. I wrenched to the side and we crashed to the ground.

  He managed to stand up with my arms locked around his chest. He was a giant.

  He broke free and and swung a wild punch as he whirled around. Three beers weren’t nearly enough to make me slow enough for it to connect. I dodged to the side and then jabbed a straight left at his chin. It connected with a crack and his head snapped back.

  Two of his buddies noticed he wasn’t doing so well and jumped me.

  The next few minutes were a blur of flying fists and busted lips. I managed to land quite a few of the former and avoid the latter.

  Just when I was starting to have fun, a shrill whistle blew and a few cops ran in off the street. Following on their heels was none other than Robert Graves, Alex’s ex-fiancé.

  The same shithead sportscaster trying to ruin my career.

  The cops rolled in hard, blowing their whistles and pushing us all apart. The fight was settling down when Robert stepped into my personal space and made a bad bet.

  “What a surprise,” he said. “The Lion of Spain disgracing the face of soccer yet again.”

  He turned to the crowd like he was the ringleader at a circus.

  “This is what I mean, ladies and gentlemen. Are we a civilized sport? Or are we no better than a bunch of thugs brawling in a back alley?”

  White blinding light flashed on phones and cameras like twinkling stars in the night sky.

  Robert leaned in close and whispered, “How do you like sloppy seconds? Sorry if that dumb bitch is looser than an old rubber band.”

  My bruised knuckles slammed into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

  He collapsed to the ground and a cop had a handcuff around my wrist before I could dive on him to finish the job.

  Robert laid on the floor looking up at me in a daze. He wiped his hand across his mouth and came away with a streak of blood. He showed it to the surrounding people like it was evidence in a trial.

  “See what I mean? He’s an animal!”

  The cop yanked my other arm behind my back and snapped the other cuff around my wrist. I looked around the bar and suddenly wished I’d decided to swim those laps instead.

  The cop jerked me towards the exit.

  “Come on. Let’s go,” he said.

  The other officers pushed people around, letting everyone know who was in charge.

  As we made our way out onto Las Ramblas, a swarm of reporters descended on us.

  This was definitely not the message Alex wanted to get out.

  The press of bodies made it so we couldn’t get through. Someone shoved a mic in my face.

  “Leonardo, why did you start a brawl in that bar?”

  I hated talking to these bastards, especially when they thought they had the upper hand. But I knew saying nothing just made me look even more guilty. I had to talk to them. I had to defuse the situation before it blew up on me.

  Before Alex blew up on me.

  “I didn’t start anything.”

  A voice shouted from behind me, “He attacked me.”

  Robert fucking Graves. If I had one second alone with him, I’d send him straight to his last name.

  “You deserved it. You insulted my girlfriend.”

  A flurry of questions stomped over each other to get my attention. One voice floated above the rest.

  Robert’s.

  “If you’re so committed, as you say, then why are you at a bar cruising for vulnerable young women?”

  “I was celebrating with friends.”

  Robert twisted his bloody mouth and looked around at everyone as if they were all sharing a joke at my expense.

  He didn’t want them to believe me. He wanted to ruin me.

  So I laid it out straight so everyone could hear.

  “We were out celebrating the fact that I’m going to be a father.”

  Robert’s face went sheet white.

  A new barrage of questions exploded in the air.

  And not one of them had to do with me decking that peckerwood or anything at all about a fight in a bar that no one cared about.

  The press had a new angle and they were running with it.

  Alex was gonna be happy.

  I just knew it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Alexis

  What did he do?

  I muted the volume on the TV and fell back onto a hotel bed that resembled an uneven pile of rocks more than a comfortable sleeping arrangement.

  My daily expense allowance meant I could afford a decent hotel and not eat, or settle for a dive and pig out at every meal.

  Hey, I was eating for two now.

  And I was ravenous.

  Everything sounded delicious, except pickles.

  Disgusting pickles.

  The thought offended my senses. We had a great run, but we were taking a break for as long as smelling them turned my stomach.

  Speaking of stomach-churning, the news clip that aired, showing Leo punching out my ex and then getting frog-marched out of the bar, had my belly bubbling in the most horrific way.

  And then, to put the toothpick through the olive on top of the shit sandwich, he blabbed to the whole world that we were going to have a baby!

  Who did that?

  You were supposed to wait a few months to make sure everything was progressing well.

  What if something happened?

  What if it didn’t take?

  It happened.

  I couldn’t imagine the brutal sense of loss. The personal agony of losing something so precious. Dealing with it in the quiet confines of a relationship would be hard enough.

  Dealing with it in front of the whole damn world would be impossible!

  What an idiot!

  Why was he at a bar in the first place?

  I dialed him on my mobile and it went straight to voicemail again.

  The news segment mentioned he got arrested. Did you get to keep your phone in jail? Probably not.

  My teeth ground together as I stared at the brown water stains on the marginally whiter ceiling. I was pissed.

  At him for sure.

  And just as much at myself for trusting him.

  He promised to stay out of trouble and I was gone less than twenty-four hours and what happened?

  A shit storm.

  Great.

  I didn’t want to face Mr. Garcia. Whether I liked it or not, my job depended on keeping Spain’s star striker out of hot water.

  And judging by the newscast, he dove in head-first.

  But more than my job, what did it say about us?

  Had I misjudged him so badly?

  Was I so blinded by my physical need for him that my brain was ready to believe any steaming bullshit he shoveled my way?

  The hardest part was that I didn’t know if I could trust myself.

  At one point, I totally believed Robert and I were destined to be together forever. And look how that turned out.

  Was I drawn to drama and disappointment like a dishrag to a deli counter?

  Was I a hot mess?

  My mobile buzzed and I jumped to grab it.

  Leo!

  No.

  Mr. Garcia.

  Oh crap.

  I swiped on the call.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Have you seen the national news?”

  “Yes. I—”

  “H
e’s a disgrace! Your job was to keep this from happening again.”

  Did he forget that I was in Madrid, and not with Leo, because he’d sent me here?

  “Sir, you needed—”

  “I needed you to do your fucking job!”

  I thought I was.

  “Your idiot boyfriend nearly killed that sportscaster!”

  “To be fair, that guy is a jerk.”

  “To be fair, that jerk’s tirade against Leonardo just got elevated to an international incident! Do you have any idea how bad this is?”

  I had a pretty good idea.

  “Let me clarify for you. You’re fired!”

  I clearly had no idea.

  “What? Why?”

  “As if his antics weren’t reason enough, he got you pregnant!”

  “Sir, we are two grown—”

  “You represent my federation, Ms. Young. Shall I say, represented. You could’ve been useful. But you couldn’t resist his cock. I will not have one of Leonardo’s ignorant sluts marring my reputation.”

  Fired?

  This wasn’t happening.

  “Please, Mr. Garcia, let me—”

  “Explain? What could you possibly say that would take back the world seeing Leonardo for the brawling manwhore that he is?”

  As much as it killed me, I didn’t have an answer.

  “Do you think parents want their children looking up to him? I have a son, and I can promise you my fondest desire is not for him to get into drunken brawls and impregnate girls he’s barely met!”

  I was speechless.

  What words I might’ve spoken were choked by a knot the size of an apple in my throat.

  “You are officially terminated, Ms. Young. And I wouldn’t count on Leonardo having much more of a future either.”

  The phone went dead.

  It fell from my numb fingers.

  That was it.

  I was done.

  Everything I’d worked so hard for, gone.

  Burnt to the ground because the man I thought I knew couldn’t keep his shit together.

  Scalding fury burned in my belly.

  Mr. ScatteredShit and I were going to have a serious, serious discussion.

  And if he said one word—one word!—the entire time, there was going to be hell to pay.

  * * *

  I stormed into the stupidly large entry hallway to his stupidly large top-floor suite and was ready to burn the whole stupid building to the ground.

  Leonardo held his arms wide.

  “Babes! It’ so good—“

  I shoved a flat palm right up in his face.

  “Don’t! Don’t you dare! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “I just got out of jail. You’re my number one, but I still had to spend that phone call on my attorney.”

  “How could you?”

  “He’s a great attorney. I knew he could get me out.”

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “I’m talking about what happened! You were supposed to stay home!”

  He held up his hands and tried to calm me down.

  Yeah, right.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was lonely and bored. Rodrigo called and I had to share the good news.”

  “Rodrigo? You thought it would be a good idea to go out with that miscreant?”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “He’s trouble.”

  “He’s got some issues.”

  “Some issues?”

  I couldn’t believe Leonardo was defending him.

  “He’s a ticking time bomb. He’s gonna explode and take out whoever is nearby.”

  “Come on. He’s not that bad.”

  My face burned. My fists balled up. I stood on my tippy toes so I could be more clear.

  “He got lucky with that petite brunette! She turned out to be of age. But what if she hadn’t?”

  Leonardo shrugged.

  I shrugged back, but all idiotic like he was being.

  “He would’ve gone to jail and he might’ve dragged you there with him for being an accessory to a felony!”

  Leonardo’s eyes widened.

  “Good. Are you finally taking this seriously?”

  He reached for my arm. “Alex, I was never not taking it—“

  I yanked my arm away.

  “Don’t try to sweet talk me, Mr. Shits In The Bed And Expects Everyone Else To Clean It Up.”

  “What mother would name their kid that?”

  My head was about to explode.

  “I’m funny? This is a joke, right?”

  “You gotta admit, that was kinda funny.”

  I stormed past him and marched to the bathroom. I was getting my stuff. My toothbrush. My makeup. My dirty clothes. Whatever I could grab in the last two minutes that this jerk remained in my life.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re not giving me a chance to tell my side of the story.”

  I whirled around and was itching to slap his face off.

  “Mr. Fucking Reasonable, ladies and gentleman! He finally arrived at the party!”

  Leonardo pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

  “Well, the party’s over!” I shouted. “I’m leaving for good!”

  Leonardo’s head jerked up and he stared at me with eyes wide with terror.

  It almost looked convincing.

  But no, he couldn’t be trusted.

  I fast-walked down the hall to his bedroom. All the doors in the hallway were closed and I realized with a start I couldn’t remember exactly which was his room. We’d spent so much time out on the expansive balcony that the more recessed interior of the suite was still a little unfamiliar.

  That, or I was so damned pissed I couldn’t think straight.

  I practically kicked down what I thought was his bedroom door to get inside.

  I jerked to a stop.

  This wasn’t his room. And it wasn’t a bathroom or a linens closet.

  I’d never seen this room.

  Not like this at least.

  Leonardo came up behind me.

  “I’ve been wanting to show you this,” he said.

  I grabbed the doorframe as my knees buckled.

  He swept an arm around my waist and pulled me tight.

  “Do you like it? I know you’re convinced it’s a boy, but we don’t know for sure so I didn’t want to do the whole pink or blue thing. Besides, that’s so old-school, don’t you think?”

  I couldn’t speak. The explosion of absolute love in my heart drowned out the words.

  “I mean,” he said, “If it’s a girl, I want her to be more than pink, more than society’s small expectations of what it means to be a girl. And if it’s a boy, well, I want him to be more like I’m trying to be, and less like I was.”

  It was the cutest nursery I’d ever seen. Not because it was perfectly executed by an interior designer in collaboration with a child behavioral specialist.

  Not that at all.

  It was precious because it laid bare Leo’s heart. The walls were broad planes of green and yellow. The paint job clearly DIY by someone who didn’t understand the acronym much less excel at implementing it. Globs of yellow paint marred the corners of the green wall. That the finish was uneven was a kind way of saying it.

  A crib sat half-assembled in the middle of the floor. The part that was put together looked like a broken desk. A dresser against one wall had piles of neatly folded onesies in every color of the rainbow, including hot pink and navy blue. A comfy looking glider chair and ottoman occupied one corner. A mobile hung from the ceiling, a soccer ball at the end of each string.

  Opened cardboard boxes and discarded cellophane littered the floor.

  And one wall held the most striking feature of all— a life-size wall appliqué of a lion standing proud and tall.

  It was perfect.

  Every last bit.

  “Sorry,”
he said. “It’s slow progress, but I’ve been working on it since our first night together. I want our home to be ready.”

  Our home?

  All the anger suffocating my chest melted away.

  I turned and absolutely bawled on his chest.

  “Alex,” he said as he hugged me tight. “I’m sorry. It’s ugly, I know. I’m terrible at this kind of thing.”

  I blubbered and wept as he stroked my hair.

  “We can throw all this out and start over,” he said. “We’ll have a pro come in.”

  “No,” I managed to mutter through undignified hysterics.

  “What?”

  I took several deep breaths to pull my emotions back together.

  How could I go from unabated fury to absolute adoration in the space of seconds?

  He wiped away a trail of tears running down my chin.

  I looked up into the most caring eyes a woman has ever had the good fortune to see. The deep blue-gray depths made my earlobes tingle.

  “It’s perfect,” I said. “It’s exactly the way it should be.”

  He arched a brow and surveyed the room. It resembled a trash dump as much as a nursery.

  “Don’t you think we should finish the crib, at least?”

  I stood up on my tippy toes and kissed him. His firm, soft lips never held back.

  He was a surprise, in the best possible way.

  I dropped back to my feet and wiped at my wet cheeks.

  He was right. There was work to do here. In the room. Between us two. Between us three.

  “Have a Phillips head screwdriver?” I asked.

  * * *

  Leo returned with a bottle of wine sans glasses, and we both chose to delay further improvements to the nursery in favor of a deep, slow fucking.

  We made the right choice.

  It was almost eleven by the time we got to work on the crib. Leo had mangled the assembly so badly that we had to take it completely apart and start from scratch.

  Now, after an hour and a half of my brain with his brawn, we stood before a somewhat functional baby crib.

  We couldn’t have been prouder parents.

  Leo ripped open a set of sheets and tucked it around the mattress. He flipped through the stack of onesies on the dresser and pulled out one in particular. Like Ed McMahon unveiling the giant check at someone’s front door, he snapped it to full length for my appreciation.