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

by Hannah Gray

  We haven’t even spent a great deal of time together, yet we have this thing between us. It makes me feel like I’ve known her my entire life.

  We never made it to round two. We talked awhile before she fell asleep.

  Rolling over in her sleep, she tucks her warm, naked body against me, as if I were some sort of fucking shelter, as if I’d keep her safe or something. I wish I could. Fuck, do I wish I could.

  Gazing at the clock on the wall, I see it’s now four in the morning. My eyelids grow heavier, and I allow myself to drift off to sleep. I just slept with a girl, and for the first time in four years, it wasn’t fun or easy, and it wasn’t to take my mind off of somebody else. This time was one hundred percent because I wanted to be with her. As my eyelids flutter shut, I wonder if Abby will haunt me in my dreams.

  I guess I will find out.

  Memphis

  The sound of a door shutting pulls me from my sleepy bliss. The warmness pressing against me snaps me back to the reality of last night’s events. Peeking up, I see it’s Lane’s naked abdomen and chest that I’m nuzzled against.

  Holy balls. I lost my virginity last night. A senior in college, and I lost it to a man who looks like a damn model, only hotter. A man who told me he can’t give me anything more than this.

  The noise causes him to stir, and he runs a hand over his face and looks around before his eyes find mine.

  “Morning,” he says lazily.

  Not knowing how he feels about waking up next to me, I give him a small smile. “Good morning.”

  “Fuck, is that the time?” he asks, squinting at the clock as his eyes adjust to the light.

  I haven’t even checked the time yet. I don’t have anywhere to be today anyway, so I didn’t have a reason to.

  Glancing over, I see it’s eleven thirty in the morning. “Wow. I guess we slept in.”

  He shifts under me, beginning to sit up. “Shit, Trent and Mason are going to think I went on a bender or something.”

  He seems panicked, though I’m not sure why Trent or Mason would care if he stayed out late.

  “Do they worry if you don’t come home?” I ask. I mean, he is twenty-one years old.

  He looks around the room before finally answering, “I used to go pretty hard at parties. Let’s just say, I wouldn’t always come home, sometimes for days.”

  I shrug. “Well, I mean, you would call them, wouldn’t you?”

  He has a phone, and he’s a grown-ass man, so I don’t get it.

  He cringes. “These benders usually ended up in me losing my phone and wallet. Sometimes even my clothes.” Embarrassment reaches every inch of his beautiful face. He isn’t like some of the guys on campus who brag about this type of behavior, as if they were some billy badass or something.

  “But you don’t do that anymore?”

  “Not really. I still have a few beers, sometimes even catch a good buzz, but I don’t drink and smoke so much that I don’t know my own name, not anymore anyway,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

  I nod, not really knowing what to say about that. “Well, I guess you’d better get going then. You probably have some explaining to do.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Running a hand through his hair, he looks at me. “About last night …”

  Uncomfortable as hell, I glance down, pulling the sheets up higher on my chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “What about it?”

  Seeming frustrated with himself, he sighs. “That really is all I’m good for, Memphis. I need you to understand that.”

  “What’s that?” I question, already knowing the answer.

  “Fucking,” he says, cringing. “I can’t give you anything more, and you don’t seem like the type of girl who would be all right with that sort of arrangement.”

  I agree with him on that. I am indeed not the type of girl who is all right with being used as a sex doll. But I need this. I need him. Even if what he can give me makes me pathetic, I don’t care. Last night, I felt alive. I felt free. I felt sexy and beautiful. I want to feel those things all over again and again. I’m not ready for this all to end, not yet anyway.

  Climbing on top of him, I begin kissing up his chest, and then I press my lips to his. “Then, that’s what I want. I need this, Lane.” Putting my forehead against his, I sigh. “Please don’t take it from me.”

  “You’ll get hurt,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Maybe you will too,” I challenge him.

  “It won’t be a happy ending, Memphis. I promise you, at the end of our story, I will be the villain.”

  I don’t bat an eyelash. Standing my ground, I say, “I’ll take my chances.”

  He watches me for a few moments, his chest rising and falling. Swiftly, he pulls me down hard, and our lips are intertwined.

  Even though I know this will end up leaving me in ruins, I can’t stop it. And honestly, I don’t even want to try.

  thirty-three

  Lane

  “Where the fuck were you all night?” Trent grunts from the recliner as he watches old game tapes of his dream team, the New England Patriots. “You came home with us, supposedly went to bed, and then left in the middle of the night.”

  I thought about what story I would throw at him and Mason on my way home from Memphis’s today. I didn’t want to make it sound like I had left for a booty call because that didn’t seem right when it came to my night with Memphis.

  “Nice to see you too, asshole,” I call to him.

  Turning toward me, he gives me a hard glare. Silently asking me again where the fuck I was all night.

  “I had to help a friend get home. That’s it,” I lie through my teeth. Well, sort of. She is a friend, and I did help her.

  “Since when do you have friends that we don’t know about?” he questions.

  I give him a shrug. “It’s just a girl from a class I took. She called me because she needed my help, and that was that.” The hole I’m digging for myself just gets deeper and deeper. This guy is like a fucking brother to me, and here I am, lying to his face.

  “And it took all night?” he says, turning his attention back to the screen. His voice tells me he’s not buying my story at all.

  “I felt bad, leaving her in case she got sick or something.”

  Mason’s chipper voice says, “Hell yeah, brother.” In one swift move, he jumps over the top of the couch and lands on his ass next to Trent.

  The glass of water in Trent’s hand nearly spills all over the couch. He looks at Mason and glares. “Dude. What the fuck? Can’t you just sit down on the couch like a normal person?”

  Mason smirks at Trent. “We both know I’m not normal, bud.” Turning his attention toward me, he tips his chin up, a grin spreading over his whole face in true Mason form. “So, using the ol’ I had to look after her all night excuse, huh?” he says, nudging Trent in the side, causing him to grunt. “We know what that means!”

  “Not really,” Trent says, unimpressed.

  “Well, that means our boy here got laid. We know he isn’t some type of nurse.” He grins, nodding his head. “Good job, old boy. It had been a while. I was starting to worry.”

  And swiftly, I think I might be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world when my phone rings, getting me the fuck out of this conversation.

  Glancing down at the screen, I swipe my thumb across it and walk upstairs to my room. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Hi, sweetie.” Her voice is different than usual. She sounds upset.

  “Everything all right?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I wanted to let you know that I’m taking your dad to Limestone Hospital tomorrow—”

  Before she can continue, I cut her off, “What? Why? What happened?”

  “Well, hopefully nothing, honey. But he’s been having some trouble with moving his legs, so I made him an appointment with Dr. Rollins.”

  Dr. Rollins has been my entire family’s doctor for as long as I can remember.

 
“He just wants us to go to a specialist at Limestone for further testing, just to rule out anything too serious, you know?”

  Instantly feeling sick, I sit down on the edge of my bed. My dad is the greatest man I have ever known. He and my mom are the glue that holds our family together. The thought of him potentially being ill is unbearable.

  “I should come home.”

  Her answer is quick. “No, no way. You need to finish up your senior year. You only have less than two months left.” She takes a breath. “I will tell you and your brothers just as soon as I know something. I promise.”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I could get on a flight home tonight. I could drive him there tomorrow,” I say.

  “No, sweetie. Your dad just wants it to be us. He didn’t even want me to call you boys. Said there was no sense in getting you all worked up. But I just couldn’t keep you boys in the dark about your dad. Let’s hope and pray it’s nothing.”

  “Call me as soon as you find out something, anything.”

  “I will. I just talked to Landon, and I’m going to call Logan now. Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  I hang up, and for the first time in a long time, I do something I swore I’d never do again. I hit my knees, and I pray.

  thirty-four

  Memphis

  “Memphis, incredible work so far. I sincerely mean this when I say that whatever school you end up at will be lucky,” Mrs. Dillion says while looking through the lessons I planned for next week.

  Blush creeps into my cheeks, making even my neck heat up. I’ve never been good at taking a compliment. “Thank you. That’s very good to hear. I’m enjoying my time here. It’s been nice to get my feet wet.”

  Pulling her glasses off, she smiles. “I mean it when I say, I believe you will make one hell of a teacher, Miss Montgomery.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” I say, leaning against a desk, “what is your favorite part of it? Of, you know, teaching.”

  She watches me thoughtfully for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin before smiling. “Making a difference,” she says, sounding so sure of her answer.

  Her answer is exactly why I chose the degree that I did. I want to help students. I’d be happy just helping even one person achieve their dreams. I’m well aware that so many kids don’t get that option because of numerous reasons. Maybe their homelife is crap, or perhaps they don’t have someone to help them reach their full potential. Maybe some even get caught up in the high school lifestyle of partying and such. I want to help those kids before they slip through the cracks.

  “Thanks. It’s nice to hear that my goal is the same. I admire you so much as a teacher,” I tell her.

  “Thank you. You’ll get there, I promise. You’ve got what it takes,” she says, glancing down at the stack of papers in front of her. “Have a good weekend, Memphis. We will see you on Monday.”

  “See you Monday.” I wave.

  As I climb in my car, I’m more confident than ever that I am exactly where I need to be. Feeling daring, I reach for my phone, pull up Lane’s number, and type a message.

  Me: You around to … hang out tonight? ;)

  He doesn’t answer right away, and after a few minutes of crickets, I begin to panic that I should have waited for him to reach out first.

  Lane: For you, I am. Trent and Mason are both out of town tonight. Swing on over.

  Me: On my way. I’ll bring pizza.

  After I send the last message, I start second-guessing myself. Is eating pizza allowed in relationships that are strictly sex? Dear Lord, I hope so. Food is life after all.

  My nerves disappear when he sends me a text back.

  Lane: Sounds good. I’m starving. See you soon.

  When I look in the mirror, a girl stares back at me with the glint of lust in her eyes that I have never seen and a type of hunger that even I don’t recognize. But even though I feel like I don’t know this girl, I also think she’s pretty badass.

  Lane

  Mindlessly flipping through the channels, I wait for Memphis to arrive. Whatever unspoken arrangement we have going on, she seems to be all right with it. For now anyway.

  Honestly, I could use the distraction. Ever since my mother told me my dad might be sick, I can’t get it off my mind. Memphis has this uncanny way of calming me. Which, for a guy like me, with the demons I have, is something.

  Trent has gone somewhere with his father for a few days, and Mason, well, I actually have no fucking clue where he is. He said he’d be back Sunday, so I didn’t ask. That left me with the option to have Memphis come here tonight. And I can hardly wait to have her in my bed for the first time.

  On the other hand, the guilt of keeping this from Trent is starting to really get to me. I almost told him. Memphis has even said that I could. But I know he’ll go apeshit and be pissed at me for a long time. He’s my best friend. I don’t want that.

  A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Walking over to it, I pull it open, finding Memphis in what I would say are her school teacher clothes, holding a pizza box. Even in clothes that should make her look boring, she’s sexy as hell.

  I can’t wait to rip them off of her later.

  Opening the door wider, I nod my head to the side, signaling her to come in. She smiles and walks under my arm. Once she’s in, I turn the lock. You know, just in case.

  “Well, hello there, Miss Montgomery. How was your day?” I say in a wiseass tone. Sometimes, it’s fun to get under her skin.

  She swats at me but only laughs. “Oh, knock it off. Don’t make fun of me,” she says, setting the pizza down on the table, causing me to take note of her ass. Again.

  Grabbing her waist, I pull her back against my chest. I whisper against her hair, “Who said I was making fun of you? I find it very, very sexy.”

  “Oh, do you now?” She giggles. “So, you’re telling me you find these teaching clothes hot?”

  “Anything on you is hot,” I answer truthfully.

  “Mmhmm.” She ducks down, escaping my hold. “There’s plenty of time for sexy talk, but right now, I’m freaking starving. I didn’t have much time for lunch today.”

  Handing her a plate, I nod my head toward it. “You need to eat lunch. A little thing like you could waste away to nothing.”

  “Pfft. Nothing? Have you seen my ass and thighs? Trust me, I’m not going to waste away anytime soon.”

  Her ass and thighs are flawless. Who wants a toothpick? Not this guy.

  “I think you’re perfect.”

  She blushes but attempts to hide she’s uncomfortable by handing me a plate with a slice of pizza on it before grabbing her own.

  “So,” she says, taking a bite, “how was your day?”

  I shrug. “It was good, I guess. Went to class this morning. Worked out this afternoon with Mason and Trent before they left. That was about it.”

  I thought about texting her a hundred times today. We hooked up last weekend for the first time and then twice since then. Now, it’s Friday, and I was ready to see her again. If she hadn’t messaged me, I would have given in and reached out, for sure. Just like the other two times before. She’s becoming like a drug to me, and everyone knows that I’m one to become easily addicted.

  The entire time we eat dinner, sitting at the table, we laugh about the stupidest shit.

  “So, wait,” she says, wiping the wetness from her eyes from laughing, “you, Trent, and Mason volunteered at an elderly home, and one of the old women flashed Trent?” She keels over with laughter.

  “We had to volunteer somewhere! Coach made us do it, said we all could ‘use a lesson on life.’ ” I chuckle as I recall how freaked out Trent was. “We all chatted with different people. A lot of the older gentlemen knew us from sports networks and wanted to talk football. But Trent, well, he had some older lady—Margorie, I think her name was. Well, anyway, she said she wanted to show him her grandchildren’s pictures in her room. Little did he know, titties were comin
g out.”

  Tears run down her cheeks. Her laughter is an infectious sound that I could listen to forever. “What did he do?” she yells.

  “He ran out of there like his ass was on fire.”

  I remember him being as white as a sheet when he came back to the main room.

  “He made us leave, and the whole way home, he didn’t even talk. Until he described them …” I say, glancing at her, trying to keep a straight face. “He compared them to tube socks with tennis balls at the ends. Long, saggy tits with nipples five inches long.” Finally, I can’t hold a straight face anymore, and I lose it.

  As the moment catches up to me, it hits me that besides with Trent and Mason, I haven’t laughed this hard in four years. Hell, I haven’t felt this good in four years. When I’m around Memphis, everything seems better.

  thirty-five

  Lane

  As I carry her up the stairs, possessing her lips, with her legs wrapped around my waist, the smell of cinnamon sugar hits me again. Damn, this girl always smells good enough to eat.

  I’ll get to that real soon.

  I sit down on the bed with her still straddling me. A mess of black spills everywhere while her blue eyes burn into mine. Her lips look red and swollen, and all I want to do is dive into her. It’s only been two days since I had her last, and yet I’m so turned on right now that I can hardly even see straight.

  She unbuttons her shirt, exposing her lacy black bra.

  “Fuck, Memphis. You are so sexy.”

  “Mmhmm … right back at you,” she coos before tugging my shirt off. Her eyes stare at my abdomen. “It isn’t even fair.” She pouts.