Kane (Face-Off Series Book 2)

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Kane (Face-Off Series Book 2) Page 17

by Jillian Quinn


  His cell phone buzzes along the table, and before he can respond to me, he picks it up and glances at the text that came through. He sucks in a deep breath, holding it far too long before letting it out. “Fucking women,” he deadpans and drops the phone back to where he found it. “Sydney is giving me a fucking headache, man.”

  “Is she still playing hard to get?”

  Kennedy has told me all about Sydney’s games that she uses to bait men into doing what she wants though I am not so sure Donovan will hang around long enough and call her bluff. He has been complaining about her all week, at least one phone call per day bitching about something Sydney did that annoyed him.

  Both Sydney and Kennedy think it’s hilarious, and as much as I want to tell him that Sydney is fucking with him, I had to choose between breaking my promise to Sydney or letting Donovan know he is being played. I haven’t said anything to him because I think she likes him, despite her rules and games that keep them apart.

  “You have no idea, bro. This girl is like the Queen of Blue Balls. She’ll send me half naked pics along with a sex scene from her book or one she made up, which is fine with me. But I’ll get a pic with one nipple of an unknown woman—because who the fuck knows if they’re even her tits—and then I’ll get a few paragraphs of a story about the picture she sent. I’ve jerked off at least a twenty times to the pictures, and I haven’t even touched her yet. She’s weird and crazy, and I like her—”

  “She likes you, too,” I interrupt, trying to throw him a bone since he seems so upset over Sydney. “Just go with it. She’s all about the head games and drama. If Kennedy pulled that shit with me, I doubt we would be where we are now, but if you like her, I would suggest sticking with it until she puts out.”

  He takes a sip of his beer, chugging half of it down before he sinks back into the couch cushions. “Listen to you giving me advice about women. You think you’re an expert now that you have a live-in girlfriend.”

  “Kennedy is more than some girl who lives with me, and you know it.”

  Roxie nudges me at the sound of Kennedy’s name. She loves her, follows her everywhere when she’s home. I love that Roxie had taken so well to Kennedy from the start. It was one of the reasons I connected with Kennedy. Seeing her on the floor of my bedroom, her legs wide open and her pussy on display for me, as she loved my puppy instead of me, tugged at something inside me in more ways than one.

  “Do you think you will marry this one? I honestly can’t believe you’re settling down after all the shit Payton put you through. I have been here through some pretty dark years with you I just don’t want to see you go down the same road again if this doesn’t work out with Kennedy.”

  “It will work out, and we are nowhere near the marriage stage, but it will happen when the time is right.” My confidence shines through as I say the words. There is no way I am letting Kennedy slip away from me. “From the first time I met her, I just had this feeling. You know what I mean?” I smile at the thought of our first encounter.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He kicks his feet up on the table in front of him and takes a swig from his bottle. “Sydney is fucking killing me. She has me doing all sorts of stupid shit for her but still hasn’t let me kiss her.”

  His gaze shifts to the massive flat screen hung on the wall and to the fighters that are giving each other a run for their money. The men are so evenly matched that it’s a battle of skill and wits and the kind of matchup I like to see.

  “Kennedy says she’s like the master of manipulation. If you play your cards right with Sydney, I’m sure it will all pay off in the long run.”

  “It better.” His voice is so deep and loud it sounds like a growl. “That woman is driving my insane. My balls can’t take much more of her mind tricks.”

  Donovan jumps up from the couch, attracting the attention of Roxie, as he throws his hands in the air, yelling at the TV screen. One fighter has the other in a chokehold, his opponent’s face changing from a shade of pink to red within seconds.

  Roxie hops up on Donovan’s thick thigh, clawing at his jeans with each outburst he makes. He has money on a few of the fights tonight, and while I could care less who wins this match, I sit up and cheer on the man who’s winning the fight to show my team spirit.

  “C’mere, girl,” I say to Roxie, snapping my fingers to get her to come over to me. Pointing at the ground, I tell her to sit, and she does as I ask, always good at following my orders.

  “Yes!” Donovan punches the air with excitement as the fight ends and the referee announces the winner by knockout. “Dude, I had ten G’s riding on him to win.”

  “Congrats, bro.” I lean down to pet Roxie, looking up at Donovan who’s standing in front of the table, his eyes pointed at the TV. “It’s your turn to buy the pizza so get to it now that you have all this money.”

  He turns around, pushing his hands to his hips with a smirk already on his lips. “Get out of here. I bought the last two.”

  “House rules,” I tell him, my tone serious. “You won money, so you have to pay for the food.”

  Before he can answer, his phone vibrates along the wood, causing Roxie to get up from her spot on the floor at my feet to see who’s messaging him. It must be Sydney by the look on his face. Except for this time, he doesn’t look so pissed off. In fact, he seems happier than he was over winning money from the fight.

  “Tonight is the night,” he says to me, licking his lips as he stares down at his screen. “You should see this picture Sydney just sent me. She is going to be the death of me.”

  “She will give in. A woman like Sydney wouldn’t send a pic of herself in a bra to a guy she doesn’t want to fuck.”

  He shoves his phone into his pocket and leans down to grab his keys from the table, Roxie licking him in the process. This time he doesn’t even care that he has her slobber on his arm, too focused on getting the hell out of my house.

  “She says Kennedy should be home any minute. I’m heading over to Sydney’s place…hopefully for the night.” He pulls his wallet from his pocket, checking for condoms and finding a few of them tucked inside. Letting out a sigh of relief, he slips it back into his pocket and pets Roxie one last time before he walks over to me and holds out his hand.

  I stand, shaking his hand and pulling him into me in the process. “Good luck.”

  He chuckles. “Thanks. I need it with Sydney. Who the hell knows what she has in mind after the torture she put me through last night.”

  As I walk him out of the living room and into the hallway, the front door swings open with a very wet Kennedy standing in the entryway. Soaked in water, she stands there, rubbing her hands down her side to get the chill from her body. The weather has been warm, but the storms have been a nightmare the last few days with the heat wave that has rolled through the area.

  Donovan says hello to Kennedy and leaves with a wave of his hand and a good-bye in passing as he closes the door behind him, in a rush to get over the bridge to see Sydney.

  “My hair,” she says, sobbing, “it looked perfect when I left Sydney’s apartment…and now it’s ruined.”

  “You look beautiful, baby, as always.” I take her in my arms, aware that her hair is now stuck to her head in clumps and her mascara is running down her cheeks, but she is still the most gorgeous woman I have ever met.

  “Look at me,” she whines, which is so unlike her that I wonder why she’s so upset over her hair.

  Holding her at an arm’s-length, I stare into her watery blue eyes. “Did something happen tonight with Sydney?

  “No, we had an awesome time.” She frowns for a second and then perks up. “How could I not? It’s Sydney. I’m just pissed about my hair and makeup. I wanted you to see it before I hopped in the shower and the storm took care of that for me. Now, I look like a wet dog.”

  “Oh, you answer to dog now,” I say to Roxie as she wags her tail, hitting me in the leg in the process.

  “Apparently,” Kennedy says, laughing. She reac
hes down to pet Roxie on the head with a smile. “Did you miss me, baby dog?” Sinking down to the floor, Kennedy hugs Roxie, allowing her to lick her face as she kisses her on the head.

  As I watch them in action, so many emotions race through me all at once. I spent years mourning the life I used to have, the life I wanted and could not hold onto, but everything has changed since I met Kennedy.

  She has made my house a home, has become part of my family, and some day, I want to make her my wife. Just seeing how she treats Roxie, I know she will make a good mother and an excellent wife. I never thought I would find happiness again, and I sure as hell didn’t expect to fall in love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  KENNEDY

  As per the usual, I am waiting on Sydney for our lunch date. No matter what the occasion, I never expect her to show up on time, so I thought ahead and brought my laptop with me. Pounding on the keys of my beat up Macbook, I peek at my notepad on the table next to me, stealing a few glances at the shorthand notes I had taken during my interview with the Sixers head coach.

  I had asked Sydney to meet me at Broad Street Beans because I was in Philly this morning. It has been three days since I last saw Sydney for our spa date. Now that Tyler and I live together, the distance makes seeing Sydney a lot harder. While I am only a half hour drive away, on a good day and without traffic, I have become lazy, too used to working from the office Tyler had setup for me on the second floor of his house.

  It still feels weird to call it our home. He insists that I make his house our home, act as though I have lived there my entire life. But after having my family’s fortune stripped away, I have a hard time settling down anywhere for long. His invitation to live with him came at the perfect time because I was running through my savings and close to living on Sydney’s couch if I didn’t score another big break.

  It’s not as if I moved in with Tyler to help myself out of a shitty financial situation. Tyler was aware of the mess I had to deal with, and to him, me moving in was not only a step in the right direction for our relationship but also for me and the future of my paper. He offered to help with Sports Buzz, but I have to finish what I had started without his intervention.

  While I have no doubt his connections could open up doors for me, the Lockwood name no longer held in high esteem with investors, I want to do this on my own. He may not understand my need to be independent, just as much father has a hard time grasping the concept, but he respects me enough to allow me to make whatever choices I deem necessary, regardless of the outcome.

  By the time Sydney arrives, she’s already twenty minutes late. Of course, she looks gorgeous, as always, her silky black curls styled to perfection and framing her heart shaped face. She exudes so much confidence as she walks toward my table, waving at me. I raise my hand in acknowledgment, a wide grin plastered on my face.

  Sydney sits across from me, draping her purse strap over the back of her chair, and gives me a toothy smile. Her eyes pop from the dark shade of blue she has coated on her lids, and combined with the long, dark lashes, she looks even more alluring.

  “You look like crap, babe.” She flattens palms on the table, appraising me and taking in every detail of my face, as she leans forward. “Has Tyler been keeping you locked up in a dungeon over there?” Reaching across the table, she attempts to take a lock of my hair in her hand, but I back away from her before she can patronize me further.

  I fold my arms across my chest, my leg crossed over the other, and shake my head. “You know you can be such a brat sometimes, Syd. Tyler is taking care of me in more ways than you can imagine. I am doing just fine. Maybe you’re the one who needs a man to tend to your needs.”

  Her face grows serious for a second before she breaks our intense staring contest, the two of us fucking with the other.

  She breaks out into laughter. “Carter and I are fantastic, thank you very much.”

  “Did you have sex with him yet?” I know the answer to my question after all of Carter’s phone calls and visits to bitch to Tyler and me.

  She flicks her hair over her shoulder and glances out the window. “Let’s just say I am making Carter work for every second he spends with me. And he can’t get enough of what I’m putting down.”

  “You have him wrapped around your finger, huh?”

  Sydney has been toying with Carter Donovan for two weeks now, and he has fallen into her trap. As someone who likes attention, craves it even, she thrives on torturing the men in her life. For the most part, her games work on the opposite sex, but there have been a few times her plans have backfired, and she regretted stringing the men along after they had the nerve to walk away.

  Some guys can only take so much. Despite her many charms, Sydney has a way about her that wears men down. But she usually brings them to their knees. If she had a super power, that would be it.

  She shrugs, unaffected by the mental pain she is causing Carter. I know this because of his many complaints about my friend, the evil vixen who leaves him with a never-ending case of blue balls. “More or less. I think he likes playing the game just as much as I do.”

  “You might end up losing him if you don’t give in a little bit. Carter is also Tyler’s best friend, and I’d like to avoid any awkwardness that your pretend romance will end up causing in the future.”

  “Just because you’re ready to walk down the aisle with Tyler doesn’t mean I want that for myself, K. I am having too much fun with Carter to stop. You have no idea what it’s like to see a man like him grovel and beg. It’s so sexy. He will be rewarded in time, and I will make it worth his wait.”

  “Look, all I’m saying is that you should ease up on him. If you like him, you should give him a real shot, maybe let him take you out on a date. I know for a fact he would kill for the opportunity to take you anywhere you want. You could tell him you want to eat dinner in Paris and Carter would have a flight booked ten minutes later. Trust me, girl, this one is boyfriend material. Think about it.”

  “Fine. I will consider it.” She pushes her chair out from the table and stands, her breasts falling out of a tight black top that leaves nothing to the imagination. “I need some coffee. Do you want a refill?”

  Staring down at my empty mug, I nod. “Yeah. I’ll have a nonfat caramel macchiato and a piece of chocolate cake.”

  “Be right back,” she says with a wink, and then strolls over to the front counter in five-inch heels that accentuate her long legs in the short skirt so tight I wonder how she even got into it.

  I go back to typing up the article I was working on before Sydney showed up. The piece needs a few final changes, so I do a quick proofread and schedule it for an early morning release tomorrow. If only I could land a better story, one that would bring my paper enough publicity to get myself out of the hole.

  A few minutes later, Sydney reappears with a young boy who is holding a tray with two coffee mugs and two plates of chocolate cake. She acts as though we are in a restaurant, and as if the barista is one of the servants she had grown accustomed to having served her as a child. Spoiled does not even cover how we both were raised, except I have adjusted to the real world, while Sydney still lives insider her little bubble.

  “Thank you, darling.” She shoots the young boy a wicked grin, her smile reaching up to her eyes.

  He sets our drinks and food on the table, ignoring me and checking out Sydney’s ass as she takes a seat across from me. “Any time,” he mutters, afraid to make eye contact with her, something I have seen more men do than I can count.

  The boy must be a student at Strickland University, and since we’re on the campus and sitting in their coffee shop, Sydney and her ass have also attracted the attention of other young males in the café. Wherever we go, we have to deal with the same glances in our direction.

  Sydney says thank you to the boy again before he leaves our table, stealing glances at her as he walks back to the front counter.

  I lift my fork and dig into my cake, devouring each bite. “This i
s so good,” I mutter as I chew with my mouth full and chocolate stuck to my teeth.

  “I’m breaking my no carb diet since every time I see you now is a celebration.” She cuts a tiny piece of her cake and looks down at it, the disappointment she feels registered all over her face. Holding the fork to her mouth, she stuffs the chocolate in her mouth and moans. “Mmm…It has been months since my last pastry. You are a bad influence, K.”

  Shoveling the food in my mouth, like a human garbage disposal, I finish in record timing and set my fork down on my plate, washing down the food with my coffee.

  It takes Sydney a few minutes to catch up to me, her quiet grunts making me laugh as I watch her in action. She has such a good figure because she works for it. On the other hand, I am her carb-loving friend who cannot live without bread and snack foods.

  For the most part, Tyler eats healthy, especially now that he’s back to training again. Some of his habits have rubbed off on me and eating salads is one of them, which shocked the hell out of both of us.

  As I drink the rest of my coffee, the food churns up in my stomach, bile rising up from my throat and choking me. Maybe I just ate too fast and need to let it settle. My mouth waters, and combined with the chunks rising, I feel as though I could puke. Grasping the edge of the table, waves of nausea almost knocking me out, I push my chair out and come to a standing.

  I bend forward, pressing a hand to my mouth and the try to get this under control.

  Sydney peeks at me from beneath her long lashes, the fork still in her hand and full of cake. “Are you okay, babe? You don’t look so hot.”

  I shake my head, hoping I can make it to the restroom. “No, I think I am going to be sick. I guess I ate too fast or something.” Before she can get in another word, I turn around and run toward the back of the café, my stomach doing somersaults and kicking my ass as I push open the restroom door.

  Forcing my way past two girls hogging up the mirror, I step into the first stall and hunch over in just enough time to lose my lunch. It feels as though it will never end, my insides clenching and in pain from exercising the contents of my stomach. I can hear the girls on the other side of the wall as they make gagging sounds before they exit. Not like I want an audience as I finish up by dry heaving over the dirty toilet.

 

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