Ballbuster (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 1)

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Ballbuster (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 1) Page 9

by Lane Hart


  “Yeah, it’s gonna suck if Dane runs his mouth, but he’s gonna be gone, and we need you on the team, especially with Kohen out,” Quinton says.

  “I started playing football because I loved it, but all the…bullshit I have to put up with is just not worth it,” I tell him before flopping down on the end of the mattress and using the heels of my hands to wipe the wetness from my face.

  “It is worth it. Think about all the women, all the little girls looking up to you. No, you shouldn’t have to deal with the sexist crap, but you’re right, it’s not gonna ever disappear. If we take precautions to keep it from happening again, though, and if you stand up to it, you’re standing up for them too, not just yourself.”

  “Ugh,” I groan. “Why do you have to be all reasonable and shit too? Isn’t it enough that you’re pretty?”

  Quinton chuckles before coming around and squatting down in front of me, forcing me to look at him without touching me.

  “Are you really gonna let that jerk win?” he asks, his blue eyes searching mine. “Where’s the Ballbuster? She would’ve kicked him in the nuts and told him to go fuck himself, right?”

  “Yeah, she would’ve,” I admit, thinking back to when I was just sixteen, standing up to the guy who slept with me for a stupid bet. “But aren’t you a bit of a hypocrite?” I ask him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you sleep with women like it’s an addiction and then send them on their way.”

  He gives me a humph followed by several seconds of silence before answering. “Maybe I’m just waiting to settle down until I find the one woman who tells me to kiss her ass and tries to castrate me instead of letting me touch her. Excuse me for wanting a challenge, but is it my fault I haven’t found that one, lone woman yet?” he asks.

  “So you sleep with all the rest, including my manager, as, what? Consolation prizes?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  “That’s more fun than being celibate until I find this mythical creature. It could take me decades to find a woman who refuses to sleep with me,” he says with a smile.

  “You’re so full of shit,” I tell him, unable to help my grin.

  “Come on,” he says, getting to his feet and holding his palm out to me. “Quit trying to change the subject. Let’s go bust that asshole’s balls. Figuratively speaking. Maybe.”

  Trying to think of giving up football after coming so far makes me sad. I made it here because of all my hard work and dedication, so it would be stupid to let some little prick try to ruin it.

  “Fine,” I agree, taking Quinton’s hand. While most women might faint at the prospect of touching the team’s star quarterback, there’s nothing more than a comradery of mutual respect between us. “You’re a good captain,” I tell him on the way down the stairs, letting his hand go now that I have the confidence to do what needs to be done.

  “Thanks,” Quinton says, flashing me a grin. “I was an only child, but if I had a sister or, God forbid, one day have a daughter, I would want someone to look out for her, you know?”

  “I appreciate that, and my dad would too,” I tell him, understanding exactly where he’s coming from. He reminds me of how Paxton was always protective of me without asking for anything in return or having any ulterior motives.

  “No problem,” Quinton says. “Now let’s try and sort this all out so we can go home.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kohen

  “How’s therapy going?” Coach Griffin asks on Friday afternoon, the last day of our training camp, when he walks into the weight room.

  “Great,” Jon answers. “We’re going slowly, but Kohen’s tough, ready to get back on the field as soon as he can.”

  “Good to hear it. Looks like I’m gonna need him back sooner than expected.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, pausing on the leg press machine.

  “Dane’s out.”

  “What the fuck?” I ask. “Why? Did he get hurt today in practice?”

  “There was a…situation with Roxanne. He violated his contract addendum,” he adds quickly before swiping his hand through the air. “Doesn’t matter. The asshole is gone, and we’ve already got a free agent punter on a plane that will start practice Monday.”

  Situation with Roxanne? He violated the no touching/no sexist comments agreement? What does that mean?

  Wow.

  Has Roxanne figured out a way to get rid of more competition? How can Coach and the higher-ups not see what the fuck she’s doing so damn deliberately?

  “You’re gonna get a new punter ready to play in the first preseason game within three days?” Jon asks.

  “Pretty much. Coach Sigmon will be spending time with the new punter, so I need Kohen on the field, mentoring Roxanne.”

  “I’m sorry, but did you just say that you want me to mentor the girl who ran over me, cost Dane his job and train her to take over mine?” I sit up straighter on the machine to ask in complete shock.

  While Dane and I weren’t best buddies or whatever, he was a good guy and came to most of my houseboat parties. He was dependable and reliable for the team.

  “Ran you over? That was clearly an accident,” Coach Griffin says with another wave of his hand like he’s a magician, making it all disappear. “The surveillance video showed that you weren’t paying attention. Believe me, we went over it from every angle for hours. Roxy was driving pretty slowly, but you walked out in front of her, Kohen. You know this!”

  I grumble and fall backward against the seat since I can’t exactly argue with that. What still pisses me off is that she was the reason I was distracted, why I was on my phone.

  “And you won’t be training Roxy to take your job,” Coach tells me. “When you’re up for it, you will play; no ifs, ands or buts about it. Until then, she’s our best chance of winning games, even if they’re just preseason matchups. That girl’s got a leg like you wouldn’t believe!”

  “Yeah, cause she’s got a lead foot,” I mutter sarcastically, although it’s bullshit. I’ve watched Roxanne kick several times this week from my golf cart. Not to mention the blindfolded ones. She’s damn good.

  “There’s no free agent kicker better, and Robert and the PR team refuse to trade her, wanting all the publicity she’s gonna get this season as the first woman to play pro. That is, if you can take her under your wing and help her reach the next level by showing her how to do what you do…”

  “How am I supposed to show her shit when I’ll be in rehab for weeks?” I huff.

  “You can talk to her, watch her at practice, give her advice. Look, your contract is coming up for renewal, and now your ass is on the injured reserve list. So even if you can’t play, you can still be an asset to the team while you recover. Just think about letting her have the spotlight for a few weeks during the preseason to get some experience; and then, once you’ve recovered, we’ll bench her. The guys upstairs will appreciate and remember it if we can win games while you’re out. Which will also be good for your contract negotiations in spring.”

  I get his message loud and clear. The money men want to show her off for a few weeks while they can use the excuse that she’s playing because of my injury. And if she sucks, which she no doubt will as a rookie, they’ll have a reason to bench her when I’m healthy. That way feminists won’t be able to bitch, and we’ll win games. Everyone wins. Except for Roxy. Why do I even give a shit?

  “Fine,” I grumble.

  “Great. Whenever you’re finished up in here, pack it up and head on home. We’re out of time today, but we can pick things up Monday when we’re all back on the practice field.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Roxy

  My duffle bag is thrown over my shoulder, along with my purse as I walk down the stairs of the dorm for the second time today.

  I was only able to get on the field for thirty minutes this afternoon after all the meetings about Dane we had to have. The manager and PR team were called to the campus, along with several lawyers and Win
ona, who just left. Quinton hung around with me, not that he was needed other than to give a witness statement. It was more of just a show of support, which I appreciated.

  It’s been a long day, and I’m more than ready to say goodbye to training camp. Now, I just have to find a hotel to stay in for a few days while I start apartment hunting. It’s doubtful that I’ll be able to look for a place this weekend without being hounded by paparazzi.

  The team’s PR people decided that they’re going to release the video of when I hit Kohen tonight, along with all the details, to try to cover their asses after releasing Dane from the team. Winona agreed releasing the video was in my best interest, despite having to own up to lying about it for a week. Management is gonna say that Kohen and I didn’t want to worry the team, so we hid it from them, and they just figured it out.

  I’m worried about the bad press, of course, but what other options do we have at this point?

  Seeing Kohen in the lobby, I want to run over and throw my arms around his neck and ask him to help me lose myself the way only he can accomplish. Stupid, I know. It’s been a shitty day, and I guess I’m just desperate for a distraction. Having someone to hold me and comfort me for a few hours wouldn’t be the worst thing either. Not that I’ve ever actually had that with a guy. I’ve never spent the night with anyone, figuring there was no point in getting too comfortable before things ultimately end.

  Knowing I’m being unrealistic, I still walk over to Kohen since I’m not sure if he knows the video is about to be released or not. He wasn’t present at any of the meetings today, so he probably hasn’t heard, and I don’t want him blindsided.

  “Hey, Kohen,” I say in greeting. He maneuvers around on his crutches to face me. It seems like he’s getting around on them easier and much quicker after a week of practicing.

  “Shouldn’t you look happier?” he asks me tersely, and for the first time, I notice the scowl on his face. Initially, I think it’s just from the heat since his sleeveless tee is drenched with sweat, or that he’s grumpy because he’s uncomfortable on the crutches. But no, his anger seems to be directed solely at me.

  “What do you mean? Because today’s the last day of camp?” I ask, since happy is the furthest emotion from my mind at the moment. Even if I am relieved to be getting back to Wilmington and settling in, it’s not like I actually have a place to go.

  “No, I mean your manipulation worked. Congratulations on getting rid of more competition.”

  “What?” I ask in confusion.

  “Don’t even give me that innocent act like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about. I have to give it to you, though, you sure are determined to get what you want,” Kohen accuses. “How did you get rid of Dane? Lie and say he called you a bitch or a slut? Did he look at your ass the wrong way?”

  “Oh my God,” I mutter in shock at his cold words. “You-you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” I tightly grip the straps of my purse at my hip, because I really want to slap Kohen or poke him in his broad chest for being a dick. I’m also aware that all the players coming in and out of the lobby are looking at us thanks to my shouting.

  “I think I know better than anyone what you’re capable of, seeing as how I’m the one with the fucked up knee thanks to you!” Kohen hisses.

  My throat and eyes begin to burn, but I refuse to let him see me cry.

  “Stay the hell away from me,” I warn him quietly before I turn to leave.

  “No such luck!” he calls out before I can get out the door, loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. “Looks like you’re stuck with me since the coaches have their hands full with our new teammate. Bet you wished you hadn’t gotten rid of Dane now, right?”

  “You’re a fucking asshole,” I tell him before I make my escape, climbing into my SUV but unable to leave the parking lot because I’m shaking so badly with anger and hurt.

  I don’t know why I let his words get to me. Kohen’s a jerk, just like all the others I’ve dealt with over the years; but for some reason, I don’t want him to think the worst of me. Now the entire team will know what happened with Dane. It’ll be like high school all over again, everyone hating me for hurting the team even more.

  My body feels like it weighs as much as a herd of elephants. I’m so…exhausted. Tired of the obnoxious players, the drama, the worry. It’s been weighing down on me for six years, and I’m just not sure it’s worth the headache anymore.

  Hearing a group of masculine chuckles, I realize the other players are all packing up to leave and starting toward the parking lot. I need to go. Not sure where I’m headed, home to Tennessee to wallow, or if I’ll just keep driving and never look back, I decide to ride along the coast until I run low on gas and have to pull over to fill up.

  Finally, in the parking lot of a run-down gas station in the middle of nowhere is where I let myself crumble.

  After I cry until there are no more tears, I pull out my cell phone and call the one man who’s always been there for me and believed in me.

  “Hey, Ladybug,” my dad answers right away.

  “Hey, Daddy,” I say between sniffles.

  “What’s wrong, Roxanne? Are you okay?” he asks, hearing the tears in my voice.

  “No,” I tell him. “I’m not sure if I can do this anymore.”

  Kohen

  “You guys seen Roxy?” Quinton asks with a wrinkled forehead when he walks up to where Lathan and I are sitting in the lobby. We’ve been waiting for his slow ass so we can hit the road and go home.

  Hearing her name, especially from him, the way he said it so familiarly, has me sulking even more.

  “She left,” I tell him. “Why do you care? Was she supposed to kiss your ass before leaving?”

  Quinton’s jaw ticks as he glares at me. The pink coloring may have faded from his dark hair, but he still looks ridiculous with a fucking Mohawk.

  “How can you say that shit after what happened?” Quinton asks me, lowering his voice as he glances around to see who is within earshot.

  “You might want to watch out. I mean, if she decides she wants to try her hand at quarterback, you’ll be fucked too,” I tell him.

  He looks away for a second, long enough for me to see the muscle in his jaw tick again before he responds. “You better be glad she’s already crippled you, or I would kick your ass.”

  “Whoa,” Lathan chimes in, getting to his feet and inserting himself into the space between Quinton and me. “What’s going on with you two?”

  “Kohen’s mouth is gonna meet my fist if he doesn’t shut the hell up!” Quinton says to Lathan.

  “He’s so fucking blinded by her tits and ass that he can’t see the manipulative shady shit she’s doing to this team!” I exclaim.

  Quinton shoves Lathan out of the way, and then he’s in my face with a hand full of my shirt collar in his fist. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, so you need to shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” he threatens me. It’s not the fact that he’s a heartbeat away from hitting me that gets my attention but the words he used. Ones similar to Roxanne’s, saying I didn’t know what I’m talking about.

  “Enlighten me,” I tell him, wanting to know what the hell I’m missing.

  “Quinton, man, back off,” Lathan urges, trying to pull him away by his upper arm. Quinton eventually lets my shirt go and straightens to his full height.

  “We’re not gonna talk about it here,” he says before storming off, grabbing his bag from the floor and shoving the front door open.

  “I’m starting to think there’s more to the story about why Dane got the axe,” Lathan says once he’s gone. “Come on. Let’s get on the road and try to figure out what happened.”

  Getting to my feet, I hobble out on my crutches with Lathan carrying my things to his SUV. Quinton’s already sitting in the passenger’s seat with the door open, which sucks because I wanted the front to stretch my leg out. Guess I’ll have to take the back.

 
Once we’re loaded up, Lathan pulls away from the campus. It takes Quinton fifteen minutes of silently stewing before he finally speaks.

  “Why the fuck do you think Dane’s gone?” he practically snarls at us like it’s obvious.

  “I dunno. Why is he gone?” Lathan asks calmly.

  Quinton sighs and looks out the window. “He threatened her, and, um, was in the process of sexually assaulting her this morning in the stairwell.”

  Son of a bitch.

  My heart plummets to my stomach, and my lungs stop functioning, refusing to provide me with any oxygen after hearing the words sexually assaulting.

  “We pulled him off her before he got very far, but still…” Quinton adds.

  “Jesus Christ!” I exclaim when my body remembers how to breathe.

  So this is why Roxanne looked so upset when I saw her. He touched her. That asshole fucking touched her and tried to do no telling what else to her!

  And I was a complete asshole to her when she came to talk to me.

  “The lawyers and everyone else had to come down to campus. We spent the whole day in meetings. Dane threatened to tell the media that Roxanne hit you if she didn’t make him look better on the field and do…whatever else he wanted.”

  I will murder that stupid fucker!

  “Thanks to the contract addendum we signed, the team had all they needed to legally get rid of Dane. They asked Roxy if she wanted to press charges, but she said no, that she didn’t want to have to deal with the media any more than she had to. The video of the accident is gonna be released tonight before Dane can get the story out.”

  “God, that sucks,” Lathan grumbles. “How’s Roxanne handling everything?”

  “I don’t fucking know. That’s why I was looking for her. She had a rough day and probably shouldn’t be alone. Roxy was already talking about quitting this morning. I convinced her to stay. This afternoon, once that video is out, and the media goes apeshit…I don’t know if she’ll change her mind. I don’t want the team to lose her, but she left before I could talk to her or see how she’s holding up.”

 

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