So Bad for Me: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  “Really, Kendrick! Another girl?!”

  “Coach,” I try to appeal him.

  “I thought you were trying to be better this season?” he ignores my plea. “What’s this nonsense? I’m not against kicking one of my best players off the team if you’re going to fall into old patterns this easily.”

  I don’t know what to say. My brain is scrambling for an explanation.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Coach Kramer asks crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  “Yes,” I answer, but then stop.

  “What is it?”

  “Jenny is,” I pause, waiting for the perfect way to get out of this, and then, it pops into my head. “Jenny is my fiancée.”

  Everyone in the room is surprised, including me. I can’t believe that lie popped out. Thankfully, Jenny remains fully quiet behind me, not outing my deception.

  “Really?” My coach’s ire has died down, and, now, he just sounds confused.

  “Yeah, she was feeling sick and threw up on our way over here. Since we were closer to the stadium, I thought it would be easier to clean ourselves up in here. She was dropping me off, and it seemed like the easier choice.” One good thing from my bad boy days is that I am an excellent liar.

  The upside of calling Jenny my fiancée is that all the phones are put away. At least we won’t have to deal with a media circus. One small godsend.

  Coach Kramer walks over to me and pats my shoulder. “Oh, sorry son. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I should have known you’re putting forth the effort. You have been working really hard these past few weeks.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “Why don’t you take her home? Make sure she’s all good and safely in bed.”

  I’m surprised Coach Kramer is being so understanding. He’s been busting my balls ever since I’ve been on the team – which is mainly my fault – but this is a nice change of pace.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll come right back once I drop her off.”

  “No problem, son. See you in a bit.”

  The whole team disperses, getting ready for practice. Jenny is still hiding behind me. She must be so confused. From one problem to another.

  “Come with me.”

  I grab her hand and direct her to my locker. I grab a shirt for each of us, quickly pulling mine on. Jenny just stands there, tightening her hold on the towel while holding the shirt I gave her. It’s not hard to figure out that she’s a little shy about being shirtless in a room full of dudes. I pull out another towel and hold it up to shield her.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles.

  Jenny unwraps the towel from her body, and I avert my eyes to give her privacy.

  “I’m done,” she whispers.

  I throw all of my stuff into my locker and have ‘my fiancée’ follow me to the car. I have no idea why she’s going along with all of my shenanigans. It could be because she is so shocked. Or maybe she hasn’t fully come around from being roofied. Either way, this could dove tail horribly.

  And, by that, I mean come back to bite me in the ass.

  However, the bigger question is who roofied her. I’m still not sure if I believe her roommate tale. But I’m not about to question her about this again. If she wants to use that story, I’m not going to open that pandora’s box.

  We get to my car, and I unlock the door. Jenny seems a little hesitant to get in. She’s, understandably, been acting pretty weird this entire time. It could be the fact that I lied and told everyone we’re about to get married. But she also might need someone to look at her. I don’t know how roofies affect people, but I also feel like this is something a doctor could help out with.

  Once we’re both settled in the car, I turn to Jenny. She’s sitting stiffly, looking out the windshield. I feel like she’s deliberately trying to ignore me. So, I just keep staring. Her eyes slowly settle on me.

  “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

  I’m pretty sure she is lying to me. Just moments ago, she could barely stand on her own two feet. There’s no way Jenny isn’t still feeling out of it. I mean, we’re both fairly confident she got roofied.

  “Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal.” Even if it’s a slight inconvenience, I’d rather know that this girl is okay.

  “I’m seriously okay. Just take me to my dorm. I live on campus.”

  I shrug because if she doesn’t want to go, I can’t make her. She’s a grown woman, and I am merely here to get her to her destination safely. I mean we’ll need to have a conversation about everything that went down in the locker room, but my number one concern is taking her back to her place.

  I head towards NYU, but I know I won’t be able to just wash my hands of this. Jenny is now my fiancée. I’m going to have to see if I can fix this little problem I made for myself.

  Chapter Two

  Jenny

  I can’t believe I woke up in a cold shower with Jameson Kendrick, the football star. Of all the people who could have found me in this mess, it was Jameson friggin’ Kendrick. I hate him! And of all the embarrassing things to happen to me, I had to find myself getting soaked with that guy. Just all the ugh!

  He must think I’m so pathetic. I feel pathetic. I AM pathetic. I can’t believe I let Carrie get the best of me. I’m supposed to have my guard up. And now I can’t even think. My head is still a little fuzzy. I should probably go to the hospital and get myself checked out, but I don’t want a whole bunch of people asking me questions. And, if they find out I was roofied, they might want me to call the police. I just can’t, not today.

  And why would Carrie do this to me? I know she’s mad at me for not letting her cheat off of me and everything, but we’d been avoiding each other. It’s been tense, but tolerable. How am I going to get through this situation now that I know my roommate roofied me?

  She ROOFIED me! Like, what the hell? What kind of fucked up thing is that?

  “Why did she put you in the Leviathan’s locker room?”

  “Huh?”

  I was so in my head, fake yelling at Carrie that I totally missed Jameson’s question. Or I heard it, but I just need a second to get my head back on straight.

  “I was just wondering if you know why your roommate would leave you in our locker room?”

  I could think of a few reasons. One of them is the fact that Jameson and I went to high school together — something he has clearly forgotten. Carrie doesn’t know how deep my bitterness runs for him, but she does know there are some hurt feelings. Whenever we’ve spoken about the Leviathans, our ‘discussion’ always devolved into talking about Jameson. He’s her favorite player. He’s a lot of people’s favorite player. And he’s a good linebacker, but I can’t get over the block in my mind that I have regarding my feelings for him.

  And I have tried.

  Plus, he doesn’t even remember me. I could tell from the look on his face that he thought I was just some random girl he found in the locker room this morning, so what’s the point of doing a deep dive into the past.

  So, I tell a lie, but it’s only by omission.

  “Carrie is a huge Leviathan fan. She loves the team, so we argue a lot about the fact that I’m not really one.”

  “You don’t like football?”

  “Um,” I scrunch my nose. “Not really.”

  “And you and your roommate fight about it?” When he explains it in such simple terms, it does sound a little weird. It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it seems like Jameson likes to pry.

  “I wouldn’t call it fighting. More like spirited discussion.” I very much want to drop talking. It is not easy playing it cool with a guy I used to have a crush on. It’s not like I still have feelings for him or anything, but, I don’t know, I guess there’s some feelings of rejection still out there. Also, how can he not remember me? We went to school together not that long ago. Was I really such a blip on his radar?

  Maybe I’m more
hurt than I originally thought. But there’s nothing I can really do about it. Just work through these feelings on my own, I guess.

  “Okay, then,” he chuckles a little and gives me an easy smile. “I’m not saying I totally understand that dynamic, but okay.”

  He stops asking me questions at least. Maybe he thinks I’m still feeling fuzzy, which is true. And I don’t mind the quiet. It’s preferable anyway.

  I watch Jameson drive, taking me home. Unfortunately, he still looks good. He’s bigger than he was in high school, more filled out and muscular. I can see the muscle definition in his arms and can’t help remembering the perfect abs he was showing earlier when he had his shirt off. With black hair and blue eyes, he really could be a model.

  It’s not like I really have any ill will towards him. Like I said, I’m bitter. I don’t want to get caught staring, which I was very much doing at his abs when we were in the locker room. Even as out of it as I was, I could still appreciate how cut his body was. Six months out of commission didn’t do too much damage to his body.

  “Which dorm do you live in?”

  I shake myself out of my thoughts, dissolving the picture of his abs that I have in my mind. It goes to the back of my head where I know it’ll pop back up at the most inconvenient time.

  “Um, I live in the Clark Street dorms,” I point in that direction.

  “O-kay,” Jameson navigates his car to a parking spot right outside the entrance into Clark Street. I step out of the car, ready to get away from Jameson. Being all cooped up in a car with him has gotten me all jittery. And, with the upcoming headache that I know will hit me when the Rohypnol wears off, I just need to be alone in my room.

  I’m ready to do a quick turn around and say goodbye, but I see Jameson stepping out of his car. He’s put on a ballcap, that I assume is meant to disguise him? I’d laugh if I wasn’t so confused.

  “Are you coming up?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I thought maybe we could talk a little about some of the stuff I said back in the locker room.”

  So, it looks like Jameson isn’t going to let go of those fiancée remarks he made. I was really hoping to be totally kept out of the whole thing. But, given that he just got me out of a really tight spot, I don’t really want to just dismiss him. The very least I can do is listen to what he has to say.

  “Yeah, that’s cool. We can talk up in my dorm.”

  I scan my ID and let him in, leading him up to my room. I’m about to unlock the door and let Jameson into my home, but then remember that there is a very large, very signed poster of him plastered very prominently in the living room.

  I stop turning the key, not sure what to do about this. Could I postpone this talk until another time, putting it off until we just never have it? That would be beyond ideal, the absolute perfect situation.

  “Um, I’m not feeling so great, maybe we can talk later?” I don’t even turn around, not wanting him to see that I am fully lying.

  “Let me at least walk you in and make sure you’re situated. I’d hate to leave you like this after all that stuff that happened.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “It’s fine, it really is. Zero inconvenience.”

  I get the feeling I’m not going to talk this guy out of being a gentleman. I may as well suck it up and let him in. I finish unlocking the door and throw it wide open because it is better to rip a Band-Aid off quickly.

  I know the second he sees that horrendous eyesore on the wall. He doesn’t make a sound of pure disgust or judgement. It’s more curious. I don’t want to address it. I don’t want him to address it. I’m hoping that this can all just go away faster than it started.

  “Did I sign that for you personally?”

  It’s like Jameson reads my mind and knows exactly what I don’t want him to, but he does it anyway. And it’s not malicious or anything. He’s just a guy who wants to help me out and has a lot of questions. Something I’d rather not have to deal with right now, but I’m too nonconfrontational to say a gosh darn thing.

  I finally turn around and look at him. He has that glint in his eye that he used to get sometimes. That glint for when he’s curious. Whenever he would ask me a lot of questions and it felt like he was interested in me. He had the same look he has on now. But it didn’t really work out then, so maybe I’m misreading now what I misread then.

  “Uh, no. That’s my roommates. I would never hang up a poster like that.” It comes out before I realize how mean it sounded.

  “Never?”

  “That sounded a lot harsher than I meant it to. It’s more I’m not a fan of the Leviathans, so why would I buy a football poster and bother to get it signed, right?”

  “I see.” He sounds unconvinced, but, thankfully, Jameson doesn’t ask any follow up questions regarding my intense dislike for the team. I don’t know if I can come up with any more lies. I’m already exhausted having to temper all my feelings towards this man. If I could yell at him and not make it overly weird, I’d do just that.

  He keeps looking around my apartment, his eyes skimming over every single surface. What is he looking for?

  “You know you look familiar?”

  My eyes go wide. Maybe he does remember me?

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, but you’re saying you don’t like football, so you probably don’t go to the games, right?”

  “No, I don’t go,” I shake my head.

  “And even if you went to the games, it would have been hard to see you in the crowd.” It seems like he’s talking to himself. His eyes zero in on me. “So, where would I have seen you?”

  I don’t want to come out and say it. If Jameson can’t remember on his own, there’s no point of brining it up to him. But maybe I could guide him to the answer? There’s nothing wrong with that. It’ll still be like he got the idea on his own.

  “I don’t know,” I shrug my shoulders. I have to be as nonchalant as possible. “Maybe we met somewhere else?”

  “Like where?”

  “Oh, like a restaurant or the library?”

  “The local library?” That was a dumb suggestion.

  “Well, maybe not the library. I don’t know. We could have met a while back. Like before either of us came to the city?” I am dropping some major hints. It has to be obvious to him. I may as well be leading him to the answer with a bunch of MVP trophies.

  “I can’t think of where we would have run into one another.”

  Is he dense? How is he not picking up on these clues? They are laid before him as neatly as I can without telling him we are former classmates.

  I’m wrapped up in my feelings, but then I notice that Jameson has been moving closer and closer to me. My heart is pounding. I can smell his cologne. What am I supposed to do when he’s next to me? How is this awkward day getting even more awkward? I can’t let anything slip.

  “Well, what about,” I start, but I hear the lock turning.

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  I’m in a mutually beneficial arrangement.

  With a gorgeous girl who hates my cocky guts.

  I’m a bad boy athlete, or at least I used to be.

  Back before the tabloids had a field day with my womanizing ways.

  Now Coach says I need to clean up my act, and quick.

  Or I can kiss my football career goodbye.

  I’m towing the line, but my teammates think it’s too good to be true.

  It doesn’t help matters when I find a drugged out girl in the locker room.

  Yes, she’s got luscious curves and is exactly my type.

  But she’s just a crazed, party-loving fan… right?

  Or is she a lot more innocent than she seems?

  Either way, I’m only trying to help her.

  But when Coach walks in, he doesn’t believe me.

  So I blurt out that we’re engaged.

  Now, she thinks I’m the crazy one.

  But she needs a safe place to stay, so it’s a
win/win for both of us.

  I offer up my apartment.

  For as long as she plays the role of my fiancée with the press.

  Neither of us is happy about having to do this.

  But I can’t figure out why she hates me so much.

  Because all I want is to get into my fake fiancée’s pants- for real.

  And when I focus on getting what I want, I always do.

  But is that all I want, or does my heart want more?

  I Super Don’t is a full-length standalone enemies to lovers fake fiancé romance novel. Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!

  Click here to continue reading I Super Don’t

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