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

by Hannah Gray

  I follow Grady to the bar area. Before long, a shot turns into two, two turns into four, four turns into five, and before I know it, that comforting feeling floods my entire body. I welcome it with open arms. I always welcome the feeling of nothing. I’ve been so good lately. I deserve a night to let loose. Old habits die hard.

  I sit down on the couch across from where Mason is, and per usual, girls flock to our sides. One positions herself on my lap. She looks vaguely familiar. I think I’ve seen her around campus maybe.

  A few frat guys in the corner catch my eye. I notice them laughing and watching something intently. Following their eyes, I see dark hair flying in all directions. My eyes move down to her petite frame. My fist involuntarily curls, and I’m off the couch, sending the girl on my lap off of me without even knowing what I’m doing.

  I close in on my target, whose eyes are closed. Then, my eyes move to the douche bag behind her. Fucker’s got his hands gripping her hips, rocking back and forth against her.

  Yep, I see fucking red. Blood. Fucking. Red.

  I get right in front of her and clear my throat. “Memphis,” my voice booms, even over the blaring music.

  Her eyes snap open. Once she sees me, they fill with confusion and then anger. “Yes?” she says sharply, bobbing her head, trying to show some attitude. Though really, she just looks cute when she does it.

  My eyes move to the douche bag, who’s watching me with a smirk. Proud of having this girl’s ass grinding against him. I recognize him from around campus. Part of me wants to knock him the fuck out for dancing with my—

  What the fuck am I saying? She isn’t my anything.

  Still, I’d love to lay him out for so much as looking at her.

  “You mind?” I say coolly, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Yeah, I do actually,” his pompous ass rattles back, pissing me off even further.

  My fist forms into a ball at my side. Say one more thing, motherfucker. I dare you.

  “What the hell are you doing, Lane?” Memphis says, clearly annoyed.

  I lean into her. “Come talk to me.” I look into her eyes, tilting my chin. “Please?”

  She watches me for a moment before spinning around to her dumb fuck of a dancing partner. She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Save another dance for me in a bit?”

  His face turns red, his jaw tenses, and I can tell he’s literally grinding his back teeth. “Sure.” Stepping back, he turns and stalks away.

  “Let’s go outside,” I say and jerk my head toward the door.

  Rolling her eyes, she takes the lead and walks out the door in front of me. I can tell she’s annoyed. But I can’t stop my eyes from taking a second to watch her perfect ass sway in the black jeans she has on.

  Holy fuck.

  Once outside, she turns around quickly, sending her long, dark hair flying in every direction. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Why did you pull me out here? What did you need?”

  Smirking, I lean down, so my lips are only a few inches from hers. Her chest rises and falls, and she tries so damn hard to keep glaring at me.

  “Did I really pull you from anything important? I mean, come on, Memphis. He’s a frat guy.” I laugh. “Pfft. Come on.”

  “Ughhh! You are a freaking asshole!” she yells and begins to march past me.

  I catch her hand in mine and spin her around, pulling her even closer. Having her this close has my heart doing all kinds of fucked up things that it shouldn’t be doing.

  “Do you want to go back to him?” I question her, hoping the answer is no. If it’s yes, I’ll probably go beat the fuck out of him.

  She says nothing, but her nostrils flare, and her chest heaves.

  “I said, do you want to go back to him?”

  Glaring at me, she answers sharply, “Yes.”

  That fills me with rage. But I keep my cool. Tilting my head to the side, I cup her chin. “I don’t believe you, Memphis. Not even a little.”

  Her eyes momentarily move to my lips. I know she feels this pull. I’d love to take her next to this house and fuck her right here, right now. That’s how much my body wants her.

  Her tongue rolls over her plump lips, wetting them, and it sends a jolt right to my boxers.

  But her next words? They piss me off. Instantly.

  “I can dance with whoever I want to, Lane. I can go home with anyone I want to.” I open my mouth to talk, but she holds her hand up, stopping me. “We’ve literally hung out twice. After both times, you disappeared for weeks or months. So, what I do isn’t your business.”

  I don’t release her. My eyes narrow to near slits. “Are you fucking him?” I know my words are crude and uncalled for. Yet I can’t stop myself from asking. The thought of him having that part of her infuriates me.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?! That is none of your business. I’m going back inside now. Do not follow me, Lane.”

  She begins to pull away, but before she gets the chance, my lips are on hers, attacking them. She stiffens for a second, but then her body weakens, and her mouth opens up, letting me in. Her lips work with mine, and like starved fucking animals, we lose ourselves in each other.

  Quickly, she pulls away. “Lane, stop. I can’t do this with you.”

  “And why is that?” I question. Already missing the feel of her soft lips on mine.

  She sighs. “I just can’t. You first disappeared for months and then almost two weeks after showing up at my work, uninvited. This needs to stop.” She runs her hands through her dark hair, smoothing it out. “Besides, Colton invited me here tonight, and I just ditched him on the dance floor to come out here with you, a guy I’ve hung out with twice in a duration of months. This needs to end.”

  The sound of her saying his name has me clenching my fist. She didn’t just start dancing with a random guy. He’d actually invited her here tonight, and she’d said yes. Colton might not be a bad guy for all I know, but I’ll still break his fingers if I see his hands on her body again.

  She turns and walks inside. I’m stuck standing here, feeling like a total fucking jackass. I consider running after her, putting her over my shoulder, taking her home, and doing all the things to her I’ve imagined in my head.

  When I saw her dancing with another man, letting his hands roam over her body, I didn’t see Abby at all. I saw Memphis and only Memphis. And the thought of another man possibly taking her home infuriates me.

  Leaning against the house, I wonder if I should let her go. Be the better guy and bow out. Walk away from something I’m not sure I even want. Something that I know damn well won’t ever work.

  I’m a fucked up human being. She seems to be a normal college girl. I should stay away. After all, I’m no good for her. I’m no good for anybody.

  The problem is, I don’t think I’m capable of staying away anymore.

  Memphis

  I make my way from outside and through the front door. After Lane, once again, came in hot and briefly turned me into a caged animal.

  Heading through the house and to the back lawn, I search for Colton. On the large patio, there’s a firepit with chairs scattered everywhere. Only a few people are out here.

  “Colton,” I say once I spot him, “sorry about that.”

  He’s been so nice to me during our time together student teaching. And while I don’t have romantic feelings for him, he’s my friend, and I shouldn’t have ditched him on the dance floor.

  Once Lane disappeared after our coffee date—if you can even call it a date—I planned to not waste any time or energy on the guy. But then the second his lips touched mine, a spark was ignited. One that I couldn’t even attempt to put out. So, I didn’t bother. Instead, I let my body do what it wanted, and I kissed him back.

  Colton sits down on a lawn chair. Leaning back, he grips the neck of his beer bottle and takes a long pull, finishing it. After setting it down, he shakes his head. “I just don’t get it. Are you seeing him or something? Or i
s he an ex? Just tell me, Memphis, what’s going on between you two?”

  I shake my head vigorously. “Nothing, I swear. I barely know him.”

  “It didn’t look like that to me,” he answers softly.

  “Honestly, we’ve hung out twice. If you can even call it that. And even that was months ago. I haven’t seen or heard from him since then.”

  We might have only hung out twice, but we definitely have some weird thing between us. The amount of sexual tension I feel toward him is nuts.

  Then again, I don’t really see why I need to explain myself to Colton. Why is it his business what Lane and I are or aren’t?

  Seeing Colton upset because Lane showed up, coming in hot and shit, makes me think that maybe Ava is right. Maybe he does have the wrong idea. And no matter how nice-looking Colton is or how incredibly sexy his accent is, I don’t think of him in that way.

  Running a hand through his thick, messy brown hair, he opens his mouth, and I know he’s going to say something that I wish he wouldn’t. “Memphis, I like you. And I like hanging out with you—a lot.” He pauses. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  And there it is. He likes me. Shit.

  I shake my head. “Trust me, I’m not going to get hurt.” I feel bad for what I’m about to say. But I have no choice. “Thanks for caring. It means a lot. I really value our friendship. In just a few weeks, you’ve grown to be a close friend.” I don’t think I could have said friend more times. I hope he gets the point.

  “Friends.” He nods, looking down.

  “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. That wasn’t my intention.”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds before he finally looks up. “You didn’t.” He smiles. “I just think you’re a pretty kick-ass girl, and I’m happy to have you as a friend too.”

  His words fill me with relief. I really do love hanging out with him. I hope he really means it that we can be friends—and friends only.

  “Sounds great.” I give him a small smile and pat his shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Even in this backyard with my friend, my mind is back on Lane. When his lips were on mine, I felt like I wasn’t in my own body. For that short time, I felt like I’d broken through the walls I’d built for myself. For once in my life, I felt free.

  twenty-three

  Memphis

  The next few days go by with no big happenings. I work at the library, and I go to my internship. Basically, same ol’ boring Memphis stuff.

  Now, it’s Thursday night, and Colton and his friend Noah asked Ava and me to go to Antonio’s, the pizza restaurant just off-campus. Noah saw Ava at the party and apparently became interested.

  Ava isn’t that thrilled about this little dinner date. She didn’t share that same instant interest in Noah as he did her. I told her it wasn’t a date because Colton and I are just friends. That’s the type of friend she is though. The kind who goes on a not double date even though she can’t stand the guy.

  Once inside, the hostess offers to seat us. “Right this way,” she says to the guys, not Ava and me, talking in a desperate, raspy tone. It’s obnoxious.

  We follow her to a corner booth. I don’t miss the way both guys’ eyes seem to keep finding her ass along with her breasts, which are almost hanging out of her way-too-tight top.

  Geesh, what kind of dress code does this place have?

  I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me. I glance around, but I don’t see anyone looking our way. Ignoring it, I take my jacket off.

  Just then, my phone makes a pinging noise, indicating a text message. I’m sure it’s my mother. Besides Ava, she’s basically the only person who texts me.

  Pulling my phone out, I frown at the message from an unknown number.

  Unknown: UR too good for him.

  Confused, I stare at the message. Unsure of what to even write back. Or if I should at all.

  “Everything okay?” Colton’s voice breaks me from my thoughts.

  I smile and nod. “Oh, yeah, it’s fine. Just a reminder,” I lie, not wanting to explain what the text actually says.

  My phone pings again. This time though, the guys are deep in conversation about the upcoming party their fraternity is hosting in a few weeks, so Colton doesn’t notice.

  Unknown: I like your hair like that. It’s sexy when you show off your collarbone.

  Okay, that’s just plain weird. My hair is indeed up in a sleek ponytail. And my off-the-shoulder top certainly shows my collarbone. Whoever this is, is here. And something tells me I know who it is.

  I make a stupid decision, which happens in horror movies when someone thinks a mass murderer is in the basement so they make the “intelligent” choice to go check it out. But something tells me that this isn’t a murderer at all.

  “I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll have a cheese calzone and a Sprite if the waitress comes over.”

  “You got it, chicky,” Ava says while looking at her phone.

  “No problem,” Colton says, looking up at me, smiling.

  I turn down the hallway that leads to the restrooms. This is certainly the perfect place to get kidnapped. It’s out of sight from the rest of the restaurant. Going into the restroom, I pull my phone out and look at the messages again. I decide not answering is probably the best option here.

  Checking my reflection in the mirror, I pull out a tube of lip gloss from my purse and apply a small amount of the light-pink color. Gazing at myself, I shake my head, wiping the boring sheer pink gloss off. I take out Ava’s red lipstick she put in my purse and glide it over my lips.

  Once I’m finished, a smile breaks out across my face. I’m not usually one for bold. I like subtle and quiet. This lip color? Certainly not quiet.

  Pushing the door open, I only make it a few steps when I’m spun around. My back is against the wall as I gaze up at the perpetrator.

  “Sweetheart, you ignoring my messages?” Lane leans next to my ear, placing his hands on each side of my head against the wall. “That’s plain rude,” he drawls against my ear.

  I shiver under him. Not because I’m scared. No, I’m not scared in the least. This is the type of shiver that makes breathing harder to do and has my legs quivering.

  His minty breath and his fresh scent stupefy me, making me feel like I’m as high as the clouds. Completely weightless and free.

  He continues to stand there, boxing me in. I should want to run—that would make sense. But for some reason, I don’t. In fact, I want to climb him like a tree. But I refrain from that. He doesn’t need to know how I feel. I pray he doesn’t notice my heavy breathing. Or see my chest heaving as I try to steady my heart. The butterflies in my stomach feel like goddamn crows flapping around in there. Every nerve in my body comes to life.

  “I didn’t know it was you.” I gaze up at him, feeling nothing but lust, being this close. “How did you get my number?” I question him, looking into his stormy-blue eyes that are so much darker than usual right now.

  “Doesn’t matter, does it?” he tosses back. His eyes never breaking contact with mine.

  “Yes, it does. How did you get my number?” I ask again.

  He watches me for a few seconds before cracking a grin. “When Trent went to the bathroom, I took his phone.”

  I frown. How does Trent have my number? Then, I remember that time my mom called him from my phone to get his shirt size. We were shopping in the mall, and she had forgotten her own phone. I’m surprised he saved it. I almost feel honored.

  He leans in closer, dipping his head down. “Why him?”

  I laugh bitterly. “You get that you look like a complete and total psychopath, right? I mean, we’ve hung out twice in a four-month span. I’m unsure as to why you care.” Before he can speak, I continue, “Or frankly, why it’s any of your business.”

  Intense blue eyes, which look like a raging storm, burn into mine before moving to my lips. He wedges his knee between my legs, making me so close to losing my self-control. “I have
no idea. But I know that when I see you with him, it makes me crazy.” He leans into me, making his mouth only an inch away from mine. “Are you trying to drive me crazy, Memphis?”

  The grit in his voice makes me feel weak in the knees. That’s only the corniest expression in the world, and now, I’m feeling it at the hands of Lane Rivers.

  My eyes feel heavy, and a strange feeling comes over me that I can’t explain. I’m certain that this is what it’s like being intoxicated. Though, of course, I can’t be sure.

  Straightening my posture, I swallow my emotions down. Pushing them into the pit of my stomach. “No. I don’t even know you,” I say flatly.

  “Somehow, I feel like that’s not true.”

  His eyes move to my mouth again, and right at this very second, I know he’s distracted. Using it to my advantage, I duck under his arm and rush back out to the restaurant and in plain sight. Trent’s somewhere here, so I’m positive Lane won’t follow me.

  I get back to the table. Ava looks at me with wide, slightly irritated eyes. I’m guessing she didn’t love sitting here alone with these two.

  “Girl, I was just about to come looking for you!” she says dramatically.

  I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. My mom called when I was in there. You know how she loves to talk.” I feel bad for lying. But I don’t want to make this dinner awkward. It’s also a good lie because Ava knows how much my mom loves to chitchat. It’s probably why she and Ava get along so well.

  Any ounce of irritation leaves her face after hearing my words. “I love your mom. She’s the best,” Ava says with a sigh.

  The aftermath that is Lane Rivers doesn’t leave my body throughout the entire dinner. I think about how close his mouth was to mine. I think of how his leg pushed between mine as he trapped me against the wall. And how I can’t help myself as I fantasize of what it would be like to lose control and let him do whatever he wanted to me.

  My heart basically leaps out of my throat and onto the table when I see Trent strutting toward us. Lane and Mason close behind.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath.