Losing Memphis: A NA Sports Romance (NE University Book 3)

by Hannah Gray

  Her lips were pink and lusciously full. She was beautiful—really beautiful—and now, she probably thinks I’m a dick for taking off so fast. I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings. Not like it really matters if I did. I might as well forget about her right now.

  Fuck though, she was sexy.

  eight

  Memphis

  After finishing my shift at the campus library, I head to my car.

  I’ve been working at the library for a month now, and honestly, I wish I had started years ago. I love it.

  I’m almost to my car when my phone rings in my pocket. I’ve been living near campus for six weeks now, yet my mom still calls every single day. I don’t mind though. I’m sure she misses me now that she’s alone. I miss her too—a lot. Though I am enjoying the feeling of independence.

  Zipping up my fleece, I slide my thumb across the screen. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hello, love! How are you? I miss you!”

  Her words bring a smile to my face.

  “I miss you too, Mom.” I’m not lying either. I do miss her. And not just for her damn good cooking. Which I inherited none of. I can hardly cook a box of mac and cheese. “I’m good. Just finished my shift at the library. I’m now headed back to the apartment.”

  “Memphis, it’s well past dinnertime. You’d better be getting something to eat soon, little lady. And I hope you wore your jacket; it is freezing out today.”

  She’s right; it is. Two weeks into October, and already, my thick fleece isn’t enough to keep me warm. Colorful leaves cover the sidewalks while some still hang on the trees. I always envy the trees. Every single year, they shed all of themselves and then get to start over. Most of us can’t deal with any change. Yet they change their entire selves.

  Great. I am jealous of a freaking tree.

  Shaking my head at myself, I laugh once. “I dressed warm, Mom. Besides, you know, I am a senior in college,” I tease.

  “Har-har, smart-ass.” She fakes a laugh. “One day, you’ll have a baby, and you’ll worry about things like jackets and if your kid has eaten dinner too. You just wait and see.”

  “I know; I know. You know I love you for it. I’m getting ready to get in my car and drive home. Call you tomorrow?”

  “You’d better. Eat some dinner!”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you too. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Ending the call, I get into my car. As I turn the key, the welcoming sound of country music fills my ears. Ava hates country, and she always makes fun of me when she gets in my car. But when I was little, it was my dad’s favorite. He always had it playing in his truck. So, now, it comforts me. New or old, it doesn’t matter; it makes me feel closer to him in some way.

  My apartment is only about a quarter mile past where some of the football players live. Lane being one of them.

  It’s odd to me, the way he stepped in like that to protect us from those frat guys last weekend. But then he couldn’t get away fast enough. Almost like we were some nasty fungus that would infect him if he didn’t get out of there in a certain amount of time. Then again, he is a football player. And they aren’t exactly known to be good guys.

  Why I’m even wasting my brain cells with thoughts of him is aggravating. He doesn’t even know I exist.

  Still, I can’t help myself as I fantasize about what it would be like to be with a guy like that. He’s like … candy. Fun to look at, maybe even to taste. A yummy treat that makes your mouth water when you think about it. But in the end, there’s absolutely no benefit to indulging in it. It will cause cavities, a stomachache, and endless other problems.

  Yet a big part of me wants to throw myself at him like the other girls. Just to see what it’s like. I mean, hell, if I’m looking to lose my virginity, shouldn’t it be with a guy who is experienced and can show me what all the fuss is about?

  Am I really telling myself I should sleep with a football player? What has gotten into me?

  nine

  Lane

  “Abby! Abby, answer me, baby. Please! Wake up. Wake up. You have to wake up!”

  I shake her gently, knowing she isn’t going to wake up but unable to accept it. I can’t live in a world where she doesn’t exist. I can’t.

  Tyler coughs a few times. Letting out bloodcurdling moans that I know can’t be good. I pull my eyes away from my girl and look at him. It’s not good. It’s bad. Really fucking bad.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Think, Lane, think. You have to fucking help them.

  “Buddy, just hang on, okay? I called 911, and they are on their way. Please, Tyler, just stay awake.”

  He coughs again. “I don’t … know … if I … can, Lane.”

  “Don’t fucking say that! Stay awake!”

  More coughing comes from him. “I’ll … I’ll try, Lane.”

  This is my fucking fault. If they die, it’s my fault.

  I know in my gut that she’s gone. It isn’t hard to tell by looking at her. It’s a picture that will be etched in my brain forever.

  Turning back toward her, I kiss her forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

  The ambulance screams in the distance. I pray the paramedics can work a miracle on her, and I pray Tyler can just hold on long enough. I can’t lose them both. I won’t survive it. I wish God would take me instead. I beg him to.

  She deserves to see the world, to get married and have a family, to have every fucking dream she’s ever had come true. I don’t deserve any of that. Not anymore. Not after this night.

  Sitting straight up in my bed, I’m covered in a thick layer of sweat. My chest heaves up and down. My stomach lurches. Knowing what is going to happen next, I jump out of my bed and into the bathroom and heave into the toilet.

  It had been three weeks since my last dream. I thought I was doing better.

  Pushing myself off the floor, I splash water on my face and brush my teeth. Gazing at myself in the mirror, I take a good, hard look. I see no one but a monster who was left here while God took the good ones instead of me. I see someone who is a coward and fucks and drinks his way through college and does absolutely nothing good with his life. A life he should be grateful for each and every day. But he isn’t. That’s who I see. I don’t see the guy that everyone at this college sees. A funny, carefree guy. I don’t see him because he isn’t actually here.

  Making my way back to my bed, I see the clock reads 2:36 a.m.

  Fucking great, another night of no sleep.

  Then again, that’s nothing new.

  ten

  Memphis

  Nervously, I check myself over in the mirror. Putting a hand over my eyes, I blush. “I feel like an idiot. Are you sure this is a good idea?” I’m honestly worried that it was stupid to ever put trust in my roommate to choose my costume for a Halloween party.

  Never. Again.

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Shut up. You look hot. If it wasn’t for me, you would have just gone as yourself or some shit like that.” Applying more lipstick, she smacks her lips together a few times before looking at me. “Trust me, when every guy at the party is trying to get in your panties tonight, you’ll thank me,” she says while smoothing out her long, dark wig. She’s dressed as Wonder Woman in her leotard. Which cracks me up because Ava has never even seen the movie.

  It’s also ironic that the costume I have requires me to wear a blonde wig. And the costume she has requires long, dark hair. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble and some money and just switched costumes, but Captain Marvel’s my girl. Besides, it’s sort of nice to be in disguise.

  Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “I doubt anyone will even notice me when you walk in, looking like that.” I motion my hand toward her. “Can’t you wear a garbage bag or something? Give us other bitches a fair shot?” I whine.

  I’m being honest too. She’s tall, she has gorgeous curves, and her boobs are bigger than mine.

  “Would you knock it of
f, Captain Marvel?” she says with a chuckle and then pulls at her costume. “I wish I could wear a leotard the way your skinny ass does. You look so hot.”

  “Ava, I would kill for your legs. Or boobs. Or body,” I tell her. Though I know she won’t believe me.

  She gives me a pointed look. “Bishhh, don’t even.”

  I must say, my short blonde wig looks almost natural. I am not used to wearing such fitted clothes though. Or this much makeup. I feel sort of skanky. But I also feel a little bit like a badass. Captain Marvel is one of my favorite movies. I’m obsessed with her. So, naturally, Ava thought it would make sense for a costume for me.

  Once satisfied with her own makeup, she hops up and links her arm in mine. “All right, lady! Let’s go make this party our bitch! Step one for Halloween senior year? Get you laid!”

  I groan. “I am not going to just have sex with some random person. That’s pathetic—not to mention, plain gross.”

  “Yeah … but … we are going to the football house … and Trent, Mason, and Lane do all live there …”

  I wait for her to continue on. Knowing she is taking this somewhere.

  “And they are all sooo fine. Maybe you’ll be the lucky girl tonight.”

  “You mean, lucky flavor of the night?” I fake laugh. “Gee, that sounds so tempting,” I answer sarcastically.

  She shrugs, unaffected by my sour attitude. “Actually, word around campus is, Trent might have a girlfriend. Wouldn’t that be so crazy? He’s such a man-whore.”

  “They all are, Aves,” I state the obvious.

  “Yeah, well, let’s go have one hell of a night!”

  And with that, I’m headed to a party in a slutty costume with my best friend, who’s obsessed with me losing my virginity.

  This should be interesting.

  Lane

  I walk out of my room and down the stairs to a party that’s already in full swing. Not that I expected anything less. After all, this is a party put on by football players. People flip the fuck out over this shit. For good reason too. We go all out at these things. Well, Mason and I do. Trent basically shows up. And bitches most of the time. But hey, it’s his house. Well, his old man’s. So, I can’t complain.

  “What the fuck are you wearing?” Trent says, appearing out of nowhere with a scowl on his face.

  “I’m Captain America.” I shake my head and frown. “Obviously.”

  He and Mase both know I am kind of a nerd for Marvel movies. And Captain America is one hundred percent going to pick up the chicks tonight.

  His eyebrows furrow. “Why though?” he questions, taking a swig from his beer.

  “Dude, it’s fucking Halloween.” I shake my head. “Besides, the ladies dig costumes.” I look him up and down. “Let me guess … you’re a grumpy-ass college football quarterback.”

  “Grumpy football captain and quarterback to you.” He grins and walks off.

  Two girls make their way over to me. Both dressed as Playboy Bunnies. Fucking classic. Also awesome.

  They’re wearing white shirts that their incredibly large tits strain against. Along with skintight black spandex shorts that are so short that I can see their ass cheeks. This right here is a prime example of why I fucking love Halloween.

  Winking at them, I nod my chin. “Hey, ladies. You’re both looking good tonight.”

  They giggle and bite their lips. Looking up at me with those fuck me eyes. They look good—really good. So, they might just get what they’re here for. Plus, they seem like they’d be down for a three-way, and that’s the only thing that could make this night any better.

  As if reading my mind, one of them leans against me, pressing her chest right into my side, sending waves right down to between my legs. “In case it wasn’t clear, we’re a package deal.”

  I grin and throw an arm around each of them. Tucking them each to my side. “Well, sweethearts, that sure sounds like a good time to me. Let’s go get some shots.”

  We make our way to the kitchen, and I’m eager to get this party started. Pouring five shots, I slide one to each of them, keeping the rest for myself. We each tip our heads back, letting the liquid go down. The girls make some absolutely horrible faces, but I can’t blame them. After all, it is whiskey, and they strike me more as the fruity-drink type.

  As I toss the last one back, I spot someone making their way across the room. Someone who catches my eye.

  Smashing my shot glass down on the counter, I excuse myself from the Playboy Bunnies. They poke their lips out and pout.

  “Ladies, I will find you soon. I need to tend to something.”

  “You’d better, Mr. Rivers,” one answers in a sultry tone while leaning in, pressing her chest to me.

  I really don’t care. Suddenly, the only thing I’m thinking about is making my way to whoever the hell is dressed as Captain Marvel. I mean, it seems appropriate. Seeing as we’re both superheroes and shit.

  eleven

  Lane

  Her back is to me when I make my way over there. I take in her ass in her costume. The tight leotard—or whatever the fuck it’s called—shows it off perfectly.

  Goddamn. Now, that is a nice ass.

  “Hello there. See any evil villains we need to take care of together?” I chuckle at my corniness. My face is hot from the liquor I just demolished.

  Her blonde head turns to face me. Only she doesn’t look thrilled to see me. No, not at all. In fact, she looks instantly annoyed and extremely unimpressed that I approached her.

  Well, shit. That’s a first.

  I turn on some charm and smirk at her. “You know, since I’m Captain America and you are—”

  “Captain Marvel,” she deadpans, cutting me off mid-sentence.

  I nod, caught off guard by her obvious distaste for me. “Well, yeah. Though I have to say, you make a way hotter superhero than I do.”

  Don’t get me wrong; she is really hot. Probably one of the hottest chicks in here actually. But I’m also looking damn good. The group of girls she’s talking to, who are all watching me with twinkly eyes, only confirms it.

  Her eyes look around the room before finding their way back to mine. Bright blue eyes, slightly narrowed, watch me carefully. She nods slowly, still completely unimpressed. “Um … thanks, I guess.”

  This chick does not give a fuck if I’m here, talking to her or not. I mean, zero fucks given. That literally does not happen to me. Ever. Usually, girls throw themselves at me so much that it’s actually irritating. It’s almost … refreshing, having a girl act like this.

  Leaning against the wall, I tip my chin down to her. “Want a drink?”

  She holds her bottle of water up. “Already have one. Thanks.”

  I laugh lightly. Unless it’s actually vodka in there instead of water, she needs something stronger. Come on. We’re at a party after all.

  “I meant, a real drink, sweetheart. We’ve got plenty to choose from in the kitchen. Let me hook you up.”

  She rolls her eyes. I’m talking, really rolls her eyes. At me. Lane Rivers.

  Her silky voice answers, “I said, I’m all set. I don’t need alcohol to get through one night.”

  That hits me. Hard. Even though Trent and Mason have called me out a hundred times on my drinking. But never some random chick at a party. Everyone around campus knows me as the one who likes to party and have fun.

  But are they starting to know that I do it to mask what’s actually going on in my head? Fuck. I hope not.

  Her words have me worried. For once during my time at NEU, I feel … exposed.

  I hold my hands up. “Hey now. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to be polite. You are at my house, you know that, right?”

  Not missing a beat, she fires back, “Yeah, and it’s also Trent Kade’s and Mason King’s.” She raises one sexy, arched eyebrow. “So, what are you getting at?”

  “Well, gorgeous, you sure don’t seem to like me—that’s all I meant.”

  Her eyes narrow sli
ghtly as she shakes her head. “I don’t even know you.”

  Before I can answer, she turns to the girl next to her. “Ava, you ready to head out?”

  Ava’s eyes find mine. She looks confused but nods her head. “Sure, yeah.”

  They make their way by me, but I can’t stand it. For some fucked up reason I can’t even explain, I need to stop them. Walking behind them, I catch Captain Marvel’s hand in mine. She spins around, her eyes wide, frightened almost. For a split second, I worry I might actually get punched with her tiny fist.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Don’t go. Please. It would be a shame to go home this early and waste such a kick-ass costume. Hang out with me,” I offer her and hope she’ll take me up on it. Though I have no fucking clue what I’m even doing. I should just take the Playboy Bunnies upstairs. Not chase this girl who obviously can’t stand me. But for whatever reason, I can’t stop.

  I watch her chest rise and fall. Those eyes quizzing me for bad intentions. I’m sure she’s wondering what the fuck I’m up to. Honestly, I’m wondering the same fucking thing.

  Releasing her, I lightly put my hand on her cheek, leaning into her ear. “Just hang out with me for a bit. I’m not such a bad guy, you’ll see.” I’m not even sure what I’m saying. Why the fuck do I care if she thinks I’m good or bad? I don’t know jack about this girl. Even though I feel like there’s something so familiar about her.

  She glances at her friend, who gives her a not-so-subtle nod and smile. Visibly telling her to go for it.

  Reluctantly turning back to face me, she shrugs. “Okay. But only because judging by your costume, you obviously have good taste in movies. That’s the only reason. Got it?”

  My chest shakes with laughter. This girl is a firecracker. And I dig her dry sense of humor. “All right, pretty girl. If you say so.”

  Pointing her finger at me, she narrows her eyes before opening her beautiful mouth to likely yell at me. “Don’t pretty girl me. And absolutely no funny business. It won’t work on me.”