Looking to Score

by CoraLee June

  “Your major is Business, right?” I asked once we were outside. The Texas sun was setting, but it was still warm, and I smiled at the buzzing city.

  “Yep. I’m going to take over the family business.”

  “And what exactly is the family business? I still think it’s weird you don’t want to play professional football. Coach Howard mentioned that there are teams begging for meetings with you.”

  Oakley ignored my comment about the scouts and smiled at a pedestrian walking by. “My mom owns fifty flower shops across the country,” he replied. My brows shot up in surprise. I wasn’t expecting that answer. “Mom started her first store here in Austin and just kept growing. My sister loved working with the flowers. Daisy was making arrangements when she was five. She wanted to expand the franchise with more stores and was going to school for Marketing…”

  Oakley’s voice trailed off, and more puzzle pieces about this man started to click into place. Did he want to play ball? Was he self-sabotaging his career because he was trying to fulfill his sister’s dreams? I tried to imagine him working in a flower shop and couldn’t quite picture it. I wasn’t the most knowledgeable about football, but he looked so natural on the field.

  “Do you know anything about flowers?” I continued lightly. I didn’t want to make it weird or ignore the fact that he was voluntarily talking about his sister. I also didn’t want him to think he couldn’t talk about his sister with me.

  “Of course I do. I’m awesome at arranging flowers!” he said with that familiar cockiness I’d come to expect. “But I want to be on the business end of things,” he finished.

  “Well, I expect a huge bouquet of the most beautifully arranged flowers when the semester is over. You know, for putting up with your shit,” I teased.

  Just as Oakley was about to answer, a big black van pulled up next to us. At first, I thought it was just parking in front of the pizza place we were currently passing, but then the door flung open and three tall muscular guys dressed in all black jumped out. Before I could even react, there were hands covering my mouth and arms all over my body, pulling me into the van. My adrenaline spiked, and I instinctively looked to Oakley for help and to see if he was in trouble too. But no. That ass was laughing. Laughing! He thought it was funny that a group of guys were literally pulling me into a van and I was going to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. If I survived this, I was going to fucking murder him.

  “Help!” I screamed. I started thrashing my body as hard as I could manage while two impossibly strong men lifted me off the sidewalk and put me in the van. I reached out for Oakley. Was he in on this? Did he arrange to have me fucking murdered because he was tired of working with me?

  I kicked one of the dudes manhandling me in the groin, making him keel over on a groan. “She fucking kicked me in the dick!” His voice sounded oddly familiar.

  “Dale?” I squealed.

  The van door was locked shut, and I slammed my body against it, determined not to go down without a fight. I was going to end them. I would burn them alive and dance on their graves.

  “Everything is fine,” a voice said at my back.

  I spun around to see three large dudes in their underwear. “What the fuck?” I cursed.

  “It’s the annual hazing. All freshman football guys have to do it,” the largest of the bunch said with a groan. He had scratches all down his arm, like his captors struggled to grab him.

  “I’m not a freshman football player!” I screamed. “I do not consent to this! Where are they taking us? What are they going to do?”

  A shorter guy with a buzz cut and dark eyes spoke up. “Please stop screaming. We are literally in a metal cage, and your shrill voice is echoing everywhere.” I was going to murder the entire team. Plain and simple. “It’ll be over quick. Oakley gave us strict instructions to watch over you,” he added.

  Oh, so that made this alright?

  “I still don’t get it. Why am I here? Where are we going?”

  The van started moving, and I fell down on my ass with a thud. Oh my God, I had so much work to do, and I did not have time for this bullshit.

  “It’s a huge honor,” the guy who hadn’t spoken yet finally answered. He had curly blond hair and a black eye. “Most chicks would be excited. It’s a big deal that Oakley wanted to include you. And my older brother told me about this. I know where they’re taking us…” His voice sounded ominous.

  “Where?” I demanded.

  “Devil’s Backbone.”

  The van finally stopped. I couldn’t see where we were because the windows were covered in black construction paper. For some reason, I found this really funny and started giggling. I was in the back of a van against my will, supposedly at a place called The Devil’s Backbone, and the windows were covered in a crafting supply from a preschool classroom. It must have been the combination of the adrenaline flowing through my body and my anxiety spiking. The guys looked at me like I was absolutely insane. Oh well, at least I wasn’t in my underwear.

  The back doors of the van flung open, and I could barely see past our kidnappers into the absolute darkness. The sun had fully disappeared in the time it took us to get here. There was no source of light. No street lamps, no buildings, not even the headlights from the van. Fun fact, I slept with a night light until I was twelve. I. Could. Not. Do. This. I didn’t even know what this was, but I was out. I tried to panic quietly to keep at least a shred of dignity. The guys started to get out of the van as though this was just a super normal thing to do on a Wednesday night. My ass stayed firmly parked where it was.

  “Come on, Amanda,” one of the mostly naked freshmen said to me, gently. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  Uh, no. No, it would not be okay. Hazing was illegal for a reason. I’d read enough dark romance books to know that a secluded place in the woods with three nearly naked men was a recipe for something I wasn’t ready for.

  “Hey, Solver. How was the ride?” a stupidly cheerful voice said from outside the van. There was only one emotion I felt stronger than fear, and that was blinding hatred for this massive pain in the ass of a man.

  “You!” I screamed while scrambling out of the van. Some light chuckles could be heard as I tripped in the dirt and tried to lunge for him. Bright headlights from another van illuminated the varsity team, who were standing in a line with Oakley in the middle.

  “What the hell is going on here? Hazing is hella against the law,” I yelled.

  Dale, who was standing next to Oakley, spoke up. “We don’t like the term hazing here. This is a team building exercise.”

  “I’m not a part of the team!” I yelled.

  A low whistle to my right drew my attention. “She’s got the legs of a kicker though.”

  “Enough,” Oakley interrupted with a stern look. “Tonight, you’re the ball, Solver.”

  “Excuse me? Did you just compare me to inflated pig skin?”

  “Ahh well, when you put it like that, no. No, I did not,” Oakley stammered. He looked flustered for a moment but then recovered with, “You’re the most important part of the game!”

  “Game?! Hazing is a GAME to you? And on top of dragging me into this when I’m not even on the team, you are making me the ball. The ball that gets thrown, kicked, spiked, and bunted?” I screeched, only slightly resembling a banshee.

  Oakley tried to stifle a laugh, but it managed to escape. Some of the other players tried to cover their laughter with coughs. Dead. They were all fucking dead.

  “What?” I yelled at no one and everyone. My undone hair was hanging tangled, and my eyes were wide. The crazy was just spilling out of me.

  “Uh,” Oakley started, but even my dark silhouette must have looked deranged, because he stopped and looked like he didn’t really want to continue talking.

  “Spit it out,” I hissed.

  “Um. Bunting is baseball. Punting is football,” he finished sheepishly. At least he had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

  Dale
, completely oblivious, interjected with, “And we don’t like the word hazing!”

  “Let’s get this shit show over with,” I finally said with a sigh. Based on how long we were in the car and the complete lack of civilization, I knew that the only way I’d get back to the safety of my apartment was if I agreed to this idiotic ritual.

  Oakley cleared his throat and spread out his palms, like he was some Bible Belt preacher delivering a sermon. “Every year before the first home game, the freshmen are gathered here on this hallowed ground.”

  I looked around and scrunched my nose at the sight of a used condom tossed on the side of the path. Hallowed, indeed.

  “Devil’s Backbone is the most haunted road in Texas. Grown men have attempted to cross the five mile pass and have run home screaming for their mommies with piss dripping down their legs.”

  “That is a visual I could do without,” I groaned.

  “Your objective is to get the ball to the end of the road—the end zone—safely. She’s the most important part of the game. You protect her at all costs.”

  “So I have to walk five miles in the dark with the three dudes in their underwear?” I asked while nodding toward said three dudes. I was ready to get this show on the road.

  “Yes,” Oakley replied dryly.

  “I thought the ball was supposed to be the captain’s girlfriend,” another player interjected.

  “Yeah, this ball is too chatty. Can we get another?”

  “Enough!” Oakley yelled. “Amanda is the ball. Our captain is out with strep throat. I’m running this show, okay? Let’s hurry up so we can go drink.” At Oakley’s declaration, everyone started cheering. Idiots. I was surrounded by idiots.

  “One last thing,” Oakley said while stepping up to me. I held my breath and clenched my fist to stop myself from nailing him in the jaw. “It’s tradition for the captain to give the ball a kiss.”

  His words were smoky and dark. He lifted up his hand and ran it down my arm. I simply smirked. “Well, then I guess you’ll have to catch me,” I replied, walking over to my team.

  Game on, motherfucker.

  15

  I turned and started walking in the opposite direction of the van. That was literally the only thing I had to orient myself. I sure as hell wasn’t about to ask Oakley which way to go. I didn’t hear the thudding of heavy feet behind me, so I turned and called out, “Are you assholes coming, or are you going to let the ball show you up?”

  I guessed that did the trick, because I heard three sets of shoes crunching over rocks and leaves. It hadn’t struck me as funny until just now that the players were stripped down to their underwear but were still wearing shoes. I giggled to myself thinking about these big tough guys in their boxers and tennis shoes.

  Then reality set in. I was still scared shitless. Nobody knew where I was, and I wasn’t sure that I could trust three fresh outta high school guys to keep me safe if shit went down.

  I didn’t believe in ghosts or the paranormal, but they still scared the hell out of me. I could feel all the hairs on my arms standing up. Oakley’s little speech about this being the most haunted road got to me. All I wanted was to be back at home in a nice hot bath, making lists of the different ways I could kill Oakley and get away with it.

  There was a worn path illuminated by the moonlight we vaguely followed. After aimlessly walking for fifteen minutes, I learned that the shorter dude was named Ryan, the tallest was a fuckboy named Heath, and the redhead was Kyle. They surrounded me as we walked, with fuckboy Heath at my back. I could feel his beady eyes on my ass as we traveled.

  “This isn’t so bad,” I commented, mostly trying to reassure myself.

  “That’s because defense hasn’t jumped out of the trees yet,” Kyle whispered to my left.

  Oh.

  So the other players were going to jump out of the trees at us? Cool. Cool coolcoolcoolcooooooool.

  “About when should we expect creepy dudes jumping out at us?” I asked while looking up at the shadowy trees lining the path on both sides of us.

  “Now,” a deep voice said with a chuckle.

  A man roughly the size of Chris Hemsworth fell from the trees like a motherfucking ninja. He looked all badass, roaring and shit as he surged forward and lunged for me.

  I screamed, because that’s a normal response to a big dude jumping out of the forest at you. Heath grabbed me around the middle while Ryan went to tackle our attacker. One second my feet were firmly planted on the ground, and the next I was slung over fuckboy’s shoulder and had his massive hand resting on my clenched ass as he sprinted away. My boobs bounced against his back, and I demanded he put me down.

  “Protect the ball at all cost!” he yelled.

  What was it with dudes protecting their balls?

  This ball wanted to go home.

  A girlish scream that came from Ryan made me giggle. It was loud and frantic, like a woman screeching. Kyle was running beside us, looking over his shoulder to see if we were being chased. “We lost Ryan!” he yelled.

  “Leave him,” Heath replied breathlessly.

  Damn. All’s fair in love and war and hazing games at the Devil’s Backbone.

  I was suddenly very happy to be the ball after all, mostly because I didn’t have to run like hell. Kyle and Heath had been jogging for about a minute, and my boobs were starting to hurt from all the jiggling. I really wished that I had just stayed in my sports bra that morning. But no. I had to be an adult and put on a real bra with underwire and everything.

  “Hey, guys, as fun as this is, I don’t think we’re being chased anymore. Can you put me down?” I directed toward Heath. He reached the hand that wasn’t supporting my weight up to hold my back and lowered me down. He managed to brush my breast as I was sliding down off his shoulder. Before pulling away, he gave it a light squeeze. The feminist in me wanted to grab him by the balls and twist, but the survivalist in me didn’t want to piss off one of the dudes whose entire focus was getting me to safety. I decided to let it slide. For now.

  I smoothed out my clothes and started walking again. My heart was still racing from the chase. I took deep breaths and repeated the first mantra that came to mind: Allow me to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Ok, it was the AA mantra, but I was currently under a lot of stress, and it was the only one that I could think of.

  I had just about calmed down when a hand covered my mouth for the second time tonight. Strong arms pulled me backward. I couldn’t make a sound, and Heath and Kyle didn’t even notice that I was being kidnapped. So much for protecting the ball at all costs.

  “Hey, Solver,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

  I gasped as a hard body dragged me toward the tree line. Oakley’s hands pressing against my mouth stifled the scream that I wanted to release. These freshmen were useless.

  “Where’d she go?” the fuckboy asked.

  “Shit. Maybe she went back for Ryan. Let’s go back.”

  Oakley pressed his body against mine, and I could feel him silently chuckling behind me. He was enjoying this way too much.

  The moment both guys were out of sight, he spun me around and pushed me against the hard bark of a nearby tree. “Problem, you are in so much trouble,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Solver, why are you so hot when you’re mad?” he asked playfully.

  I shifted on my feet as he invaded my space, his warm scent washing over me in waves. “Why are you so annoying when you tease me?”

  Oakley laughed before biting his lip. I could only see the faint outline of his face in the dark night. I hated being out here, but somehow I felt safer now that I was with him. What the fuck was wrong with me?

  “Do you know what I think?” he asked before leaning closer to whisper against the shell of my ear.

  “Are you even capable of thinking?” I rasped. I desperately wanted to hide the heat in my voice, but it was proving to be impossible. He ig
nored my barb.

  “I think you like being teased,” he whispered, grabbing my hips. “I think you like it a whole fucking lot.” He dug his fingers into the small slice of skin between my shirt and jeans, then pressed his pelvis against me. I turned my head away defiantly. I couldn’t kiss my client. We couldn’t cross the line. I needed to graduate. My hands braced against his chest, determined to push him away.

  But instead, my fingers had a mind of their own, remaining on his chest and then roaming the expanse of his muscular torso with lingering, slow movements. When I dragged a sharp fingernail against his abs, Oakley gasped.

  His hand cupped my chin, and he turned my face to his, inadvertently brushing our heated lips against one another. I whimpered at the short-lived contact. “You smell so fucking good,” he whispered against my lips. “You feel fucking good, too.”

  He pushed his leg between mine, forcing my heat to brace against his thigh. Oh shit. Ohhhhh shit, this was bad.

  But oh so good.

  “We should probably go find the others,” I stammered.

  “We should.”

  “I have so much homework to do. And I need to check your schedule. We have a press release planned for your upcoming game.”

  “All very important things,” he agreed.

  “I should really…” I was running out of excuses.

  “You should really let me taste you,” Oakley insisted before diving in for a kiss.

  His hot mouth against mine was devouring and harsh. His hands roamed my body without caution or restraint. I gasped against him, and the slight part of my lips allowed him access to deepen the kiss.

  He tasted like Diet Coke and mint gum, an odd combination but still seductive all the same. Usually when I kissed someone, my mind wandered to all the insecure thoughts that plagued me when I was with someone. Did my breath stink? Was I bad at this? Did I shave my furburger?