Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

TATE

Nine years earlier

‘H ey Tate, great game.’ A beer bottle taps mine and Cindi Bartlett raises it to her glossy pink mouth, giving me a long, lingering look before she sucks the neck of the bottle right between her lips and then lets it slip out with an audible pop.

‘Thanks.’ I grin at her, and I raise my brows very slightly. She grins back and this time she circles the opening of the bottle with her tongue. I like that Cindi is a girl who knows what she wants and goes out to get it. Despite standing in a circle of people, she’s eying me like she’d like to lick up every last drop of me. There’s no game-playing with her. My dick hardens. Having had a couple of rounds between the sheets with her, I’m not averse to a further bout.

‘What are you doing later?’ I ask, not worried if anyone hears. Not that anyone does, because everyone’s baying at each other over the loud music, swilling beer and partying. We’ve won another game. We’re returning heroes.

She lays a hand on my arm. ‘Taking you home.’

‘Just so you know, I’ve got training in the morning.’

She shrugs, clearly a little disappointed. This is my shorthand for ‘I’m not staying over’. This will be our third hook up, but I reckon I’ve given her a clear warning. She should know by now that I’m not interested in a girlfriend, or anyone who’s going to tie me down. It’s common knowledge.

‘Sure,’ she says and knocks back the rest of her bottle. ‘I’m going to dance. See you later.’

I nod and watch her walk off, her hips shimmying in the tight white denim skirt that skims her ass cheeks.

‘Lucky bastard,’ says Andy, one of my teammates and a good friend.

‘I can’t help it.’

‘You treat them like shit, you know that,’ he says disapprovingly. He’s been with Joanie since high school. She comes up every other weekend. To be fair, she’s great and I really like her, it’s just not my scene.

‘Everyone knows what I’m like. I don’t make any promises.’

‘I wish someone would make you work harder for it,’ he says. ‘I’d like to see you fall head over heels.’

‘Never happening,’ I tell him, because it won’t. ‘I don’t believe in true love and all that crap. Love isn’t real. It’s some jumbled-up emotion that vanishes when things get tough or difficult.’

Andy claps me on the back. ‘Another beer. It’s your turn.’

I wheel away towards the bar, it’s hard work shuffling through the crowded bar. I spot an opening to my left and change direction to take advantage of the clear yards of space, at the same moment I bowl into someone, a woman, and her full plastic cup of draft beer flies up in the air and she goes sprawling across the floor.

I try to grab her to break her fall, but she lands with a heavy thump. I immediately step forward. ‘Hey, are you all right? I’m sorry.’

I crouch down to help her up and she shakes a cloud of blonde hair out of her face, indignant blue eyes glaring at me, her long limbs spread-eagled across the floor. She’s wearing a short plaid skirt and a little white crop top revealing a tanned and toned midriff. My mouth goes a little dry.

‘Bloody hell,’ she snaps. ‘You must be a ball player.’

Ouch. It doesn’t sound like she’s impressed. Most people usually are. I throw her my best aw-shucks smile ‘You got me. Nice accent by the way.’

She huffs out a breath, blowing away the last few strands of soft blonde wavy hair covering her face. Pretty. Real pretty. Eyes sparkling with humour and something else. Pretty pink lips shaped in a pretty mouth. Oh yes, she’s pretty, even though she’s glaring at me like she’d like to shoot fireballs at me.

‘The game finished an hour ago. Didn’t you get the memo?’

Shit, she’s really cute, and feisty with it, but that breathy British accent socks me right in the gut. She grasps my hand and whoah! Yeah, just static. I pull her up, already trying to work out how quickly I can get her into bed.

Our eyes meet and I see hers darken a tad. Did she feel it, too?

‘Hey,’ I say. ‘Are you okay? Did I hurt you?’

She shakes her head although she’s rubbing at her elbow.

I set her back on her feet and, although her build is slender, delicate– like her arms could snap like twigs– she’s much taller than I realised. She’s got to be a least five-eleven in bare feet. Now she seems a little stand-offish, and I wonder if I misunderstood that five-thousand-volt jolt of sexual awareness, but then she licks her lips and I’m a goner. I smile at her and something deepens in those almost deep brown eyes of hers. Yep, we’ve got a connection and we’re broadcasting on the same frequency.

‘You took quite a tumble.’ I take her arm and turn it to get a better look. Her skin is smooth and tanned. I can’t help sliding my fingers up to the edge of the bruise which is already blooming on her soft skin.

‘Shit, I’m really sorry. I should have been watching where I was going.’ I stroke her arm very gently because I can’t help myself. ‘You should get some arnica on that. I have some in my room.’ I will swear to my dying breath that that was not a come-on. I just hated to see that I’d hurt her and left a mark on her.

‘I’m sure ice will be equally effective,’ she says with a smile.

‘I owe you a drink at the very least, and I can grab you some ice. Can I get you another beer?’

She raises an eyebrow.

‘Are you on your own?’ I glance around in case there’s some guy about to come barrelling around the corner laying claim to his girl. I might be a lot of things, but I don’t cheat, I don’t poach and I’m honest about my allergy to peanuts… and my attitude to commitment. Good-time girls apply here. Anyone else, I’m bad news and that’s the way I like it. I don’t have room in my life for anything permanent. Football is my life and I plan to be top of the draft picks next year. I’m happy for a minor distraction but I’m not in the market for anything more than that right now or, let’s face it, ever. My parents didn’t make it, I don’t want to go through that misery.

‘I’d love a fresh beer, given you sent my last one flying when I was barely a sip in,’ she says, her voice deep and smoky. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re British?’ I say, stating the obvious.

‘I am. You’re American?’

‘What gave it away?’

She laughs, exactly like she’s supposed to. I hold out my hand. ‘Tate.’ My introduction is a formality, because pretty much everyone knows me on campus.

There’s a slight hesitation as she swallows. ‘Lily.’ Then she shakes my hand. My old man always says you can tell a lot about someone from their handshake. Lily’s handshake is at complete odds with her appearance: firm, no nonsense and businesslike. We could have been completing a merger, rather than doing the first dance towards bed. Because that’s where we’re going to end up tonight, of that I’m pretty sure. The electricity sparking between us could light up the Empire State Building.

We walk over to the bar together, and even though I’m not the first in line, one of the servers catches my eye and immediately comes over. ‘Hey Tate, what can I get you?’

I place the order for our beers, and also ask for some ice and a towel to put it in.

‘Coming right up, Tate.’ The bartender doesn’t hesitate.

‘Does that happen all the time to you?’ Lily asks.

‘What?’

‘That,’ she says, indicating the fan-boy server.

I shrug. ‘I guess.’

Our beer arrives and I pay for it, then I wrap the ice in the towel and cup it to her elbow.

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I’m not sure you can manage holding it and your beer, whereas I can do both.’

She considers me. ‘True.’

‘How’s your ass?’ I ask with a suggestive wink.

‘It’s fine, thank you very much,’ she says, rolling her eyes and smiling.

She’s got a smart mouth and the measure of me. And I like it. I like her. A lot. Although she isn’t giving anything away.

‘So, what do you do…?’ There’s a pause. Damn, for the life of me, I can’t remember her name. She smirks at me and doesn’t supply it.

There’s a brief silence and then she takes pity on me. ‘I’m here on a cheerleading scholarship.’

‘I haven’t seen you around before.’

She smiles again, like she knows something I don’t. ‘I’ve been here since the beginning of term.’ The way she says it makes me think there’s a private joke I’m missing.

‘My loss,’ I say, with a flirtatious smile.

With a very direct look straight into my eyes, she says. ‘Yes, it is. But you can’t win them all. My elbow’s feeling better.’ She steps away. ‘Thanks for the beer, although you did owe me.’ With that she starts to walk off.

‘Hey…’ I call after her, still not able to remember her name. ‘Fancy a d?—’

‘Nice meeting you, Tate Donaghue.’ She lifts her beer in salute and walks away. She knew my name all along. Amused I watch her go.

‘Don’t tell me she blew you off,’ says Andy, coming over. ‘And where’s my beer?’

‘Shit, sorry. I got… distracted.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought she was your type,’ says Andy.

‘Why not?’

‘One, she didn’t fall at your feet?—’

‘Actually, she literally did.’

‘And two, her tits aren’t big enough.’

I turn back but Lily’s disappeared into the crowd. I hadn’t even noticed her breasts. I’d been too busy trying to read those smiles of hers and trying to keep up with her quick-witted teasing.

‘Lily,’ I murmur as her name suddenly pops back into my head.

‘Lily?’

‘Yeah, English chick.’

‘Oh, I know the one. I think she’s in Stacey’s dorm.’

‘Is she?’ I arch a brow in interest. Andy laughs and digs me in the ribs.

‘She turned you down, hound dog. I’d say Cindi’s a sure thing.’

Suddenly the thought of sleeping with Cindi doesn’t seem quite so appealing. All I can think of is Lily and those long limbs of hers wrapped around me.

‘Know anything else about her?’ I ask. Stacey is his lab partner. Besides being a ball player, Andy has plenty of smarts and is a science nerd.

‘Nope, and if you’ve got any sense, you’ll forget about her. She’s not going to give it up. From what Stacey says, she’s pretty innocent.’

‘Is that so?’ I swig my beer. Let’s see how long that lasts…

* * *

A couple of hours later, I’m sneaking into the girl’s dorm. If I get caught I’ll be in so much trouble. Definitely suspended from the team for a game, if not two. But for some reason I want to impress the indifferent Lily. It’s not just that she’s the first girl that I’ve not been able to charm at the get-go. It’s that sizzle between us, which I know I didn’t imagine. The corridor is quiet, and I pray I don’t get caught as I creep down with the torch from my phone trying to find number twenty-one.

When I find the right room, I carefully tie a plastic bag to the handle and try to imagine her reaction when she finds the tube of arnica there in the morning.