Kicked (4 page)

Trent turned to me, a sparkle in his light green eyes. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I forced myself not to fidget. Jesus, he was still just as beautiful as he was back then, maybe more so. The sun had graced him with a warm tan, and his dark hair tickled his ears. I remembered it was soft and shone a gorgeous chocolate in the sun. Without the bright stadium lights and the eye black, he was only the most handsome man I’d ever seen. No big deal.

He smiled, and my eyes were drawn to his lips. Memories of a stolen kiss danced around in my mind, but I closed the door on them. Trent wasn’t the man he pretended to be. He was much, much worse.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
RENT

I
UNDERSTOOD THE DISTRUST
in her amber eyes. But the way she pulled away from my touch left me scalded.

“Talk, man.” Her friend, Landon, smirked at me.

I cleared my throat. “I was just saying that first-string kickers get full scholarships.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I know.”

“What do you mean ‘I know’?” Landon dropped his chair onto all fours with a clack and leaned across the table toward her. “Full scholarship? You didn’t tell me that. You need this, Cordy. Go for it.”

“But soccer—”

“Fuck soccer. Try for first-string.” Landon opened his palm.

She reached out and lay her small hand in his. Something rumbled deep in my heart, and I had the urge to knock his hand away. I knew all about him, his many conquests, and his constant need to be close to Cordy. He may have had her fooled, but I wasn’t buying the “just friends” routine.

Instead of starting something that would end with Landon in a heap on the floor, I slung my arm over the back of her chair.

He gave me an acid look and turned back to Cordy. “You need to try for it at least. You could get your tuition paid for the rest of the year and next year, too, if you stayed on.”

“They aren’t going to let a girl be first-string.” She shook her head, her long brown hair tickling the back of my hand. “Especially not after what happened yesterday.”

I took in her scent, sweet and warm. Keeping my hand out of her hair was taking an effort. I leaned closer. “You don’t know that. I saw what you did yesterday. You have enough leg to get the ball between the uprights from thirty yards out. You just set up wrong and didn’t get enough lift.”

She glanced at me and pulled her hand away from Landon. I had to stow my goofy smile and the juvenile feeling of triumph that bloomed inside me.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she frowned down at the table. “You saw what happened. It bounced off
my own player
. The defenders didn’t have to do anything other than stand there. I sank the whole thing myself. Besides, I can’t kick a fifty-yard field goal, or even a forty-yarder, most likely. They won’t let me be first-string if I can’t make distance kicks.”

She finally looked at me, a full-on view of her radiant face. My heart stuttered and kicked as my chest warmed. Her amber eyes were like pools of gold, and her lips… Damn, her full lips were made for kissing. I’d only ever gotten a taste of them in that one stolen moment two years ago, but I wanted more. If I told her how far I’d gone to ensure I’d get the chance to be near her again, she might knee me and run.

“You don’t need to be able to kick a fifty-yarder or even a forty-yarder to be first-string. Plenty of teams have a first-stringer that kicks within a set number of yardage. Your range could be forty yards and under, or whatever you’re comfortable with.” I found myself leaning closer to her, drawn in by her wide eyes and the pensive look crinkling her small nose. “You need accuracy. You have the leg. I could see it when you kicked yesterday. But it’ll take practice, and we have to keep an eye on the walk-ons to find a guy who kicks it long like a champ, but doesn’t have your accuracy up close.”

Her eyes flickered as if she wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Her pink lips parted the slightest bit, and I forced myself to keep a reasonable distance, despite my burning need to kiss the breath out of her. Being near her was proving more of a challenge than I’d expected.

Landon stood, his chair scraping across the floor. “Hey, asshole, do you have a point or are you just going to keep eye fucking her in front of me?”

“Landon!” Heat seeped into her luminous cheeks. God, she was beautiful.

I cleared my throat and continued, trying to make my plan sound as nonchalant and off-the-cuff as possible. “They’re going to have walk-on tryouts on Wednesday. You need to practice for the next three days. You have to be accurate—not miss a single kick—during tryouts. That’s the only way.”

“Let me guess.” Landon glared down at me. “You want to help her practice?”

“I’m the holder. It only makes sense for me to be the one—”

“No, not a chance.” He balled his fists at his sides. “You need to move along.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I measured my words. Landon was Cordy’s friend, and I hoped he’d eventually be mine, but backing down now wasn’t an option. I was too close.

“I don’t give a damn that you’re the holder or star quarterback. I’m going to kick your ass.” Landon flexed his fists until his knuckles gleamed white.

This was not going how I’d hoped. No surprise there. Landon was just as territorial as I’d guessed.

“Landon?” A blonde sauntered up, her athletic shorts barely bigger than a pair of panties. She smiled up at him and ran a hand down his tattooed forearm.

“I’m busy.” He didn’t break eye contact with me.

“You weren’t too busy for me last weekend.” The blonde pouted, her duck lips larger than life. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered something into his ear before dropping back down.

Landon’s jaw went slack and his eyes seized on her ample chest that was covered with only a sports bra. He swallowed hard. “Cordy, I ah—”

“Just go. I’m fine.” She turned so her back was against the wall, then pulled her sweater tighter around her like it was some sort of armor.

She felt like she needed to defend herself. Against me. For the millionth time, I cursed myself for ruining things with her two years ago. But I could fix it. I would do anything in my power to make her see me again the way she had then—with bright eyes and a trusting heart.

The blonde molded herself to Landon’s side, but he turned back to Cordy. “No, I can stay. I don’t want to leave you alone with—”

“We aren’t alone.” Cordy waved her arm at the busy cafeteria. “It’s not like he’s in the back of a windowless van offering me candy.”

I arched an eyebrow at her comparison between me and a kidnapper. I should have been offended. Instead, I laughed. She wasn’t that far from the truth. If I could have tossed her over my shoulder and run with her, I would have. But that move didn’t exactly strengthen trust, and I wanted her trust more than anything. All I needed was for her to give me a chance.

“I don’t like leaving you with him.” Landon shifted his gaze from her to me.

“I don’t like you going to jail for indecent exposure.” She gave a pointed look at the blonde whose hands roved along Landon’s torso and began inching lower. “So you should probably go somewhere private.”

The blonde tiptoed again and whispered something that made Landon’s eyes close. Once finished with whatever scandalous words she’d chosen, she eased her body down his side with a breathy sigh.

He opened his eyes. “Okay, I’m going, but I’ll see you this afternoon. And you.” He stabbed a finger at me. “If you so much as look at her wrong, I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smirked up at him as the blonde took his elbow and pulled him away.

Finally, it was just Cordy and me. The way it was supposed to be. I was going to get the chance I’d been dreaming about for two years. I had so much to tell her, so many things to explain.

The chair next to me pushed back from the table.

I turned to see her gathering her bag and grabbing her tray.

“Wait, where are you going?” I stood, worry icing the steady pace of my heart.

She gave me a piercing look, her head cocked slightly to the side as if my question was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. “Isn’t it obvious? Away from you.”

CHAPTER FIVE

C
ORDY

I
MARCHED THROUGH THE
cafeteria and dumped my tray. Landon was long gone, probably locked in a maintenance closet with his blonde-of-the-week. It didn’t matter. I’d planned to finish my homework and do some writing for the rest of the day.

“Cordy, please.” Trent followed me out of the cafeteria and into the fall air. Leaves swirled from the oaks that towered over the edges of the quad, and a few students played Frisbee in the fading grass.

I pulled my cardigan closer and followed the concrete sidewalk away from the heart of campus and toward my dorm. Trent dogged my steps, but I didn’t want to talk to him. He almost fooled me in the cafeteria. His earnest eyes, sweet smile, and the rich sound of his voice—I’d fallen for all of it before. His feigned interest seemed real just like it had the last time.

He had been so cute, so endearing when we’d first met. But it was all an act. We’d been in the same speech class together when I was a freshman and he was a sophomore. The teacher had randomly paired us together. Having been president of the drama club in high school, I loved the thrill of speaking in front of a crowd.

Trent, on the other hand, visibly paled when we received our final assignment—tell the class a simple story about what you did on your summer break. He’d been terrified, but we’d worked through it together. After he’d successfully given his speech to the class, he’d picked me up and twirled me in the air. My gaze slid toward the arts hall, to the spot where that twirl had happened.

I almost smiled at the memory of his hands on me and the giddy sensation of spinning. I shook my head against the memories. I couldn’t just remember the good. There was plenty of bad to go with it. The problem was that when he looked at me or came too close, I was spinning again.

“Cordy—”

I whirled on him, anger overcoming my need to escape. “What do you want from me?”

He stepped closer, and I fought to remain still. I wouldn’t back down from him. His eyes softened, and he held up his hands, as if I were wielding a gun.

“I just want to help, okay? That’s all I want.” A breeze blew by, tousling his hair and bringing the homey smell of wood smoke to my nose.

“Why?”

He lowered his hands and stuffed them into his pockets, his wide shoulders rising in a shrug. “You helped me one time, remember?”

“I remember plenty.” I hiked my bag farther up my shoulder and turned my head to watch the boys throwing the Frisbee. Light filtered through the trees overhead, the sun playing along the fallen leaves on the path.

“Cordy.” His voice was almost a whisper. He pulled his right hand from his pocket and slowly reached for me.

I held my breath. His fingertips, calloused from years of throwing perfect spirals, brushed my hair from my cheek with gentle pressure. Warmth sparked from his touch and spread everywhere in my body. I was caught up, dragging my attention from the players and back to him. His bright eyes held me in their gaze. I refused to lean into his touch, but how I wanted to do just that.

“Let me help, please?” He dropped his hand and gave me a sober stare.

Pounding feet and crunching leaves distracted me, and before I could move, Trent yanked me into his arms. One of the Frisbee players ran into Trent’s back and bounced off while Trent scarcely moved.

“Watch it!” Trent yelled, his voice rumbling in my ear.

I was pressed to him, his strong arms wrapped around me. He was so much larger than me. I couldn’t even peek over his shoulder or see past the wide expanse of his chest.

“Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” The student darted past and picked up the Frisbee, then returned to his friends. “My bad.”

Trent pushed me back and held me at arm’s length. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

He was so close now, and I was surrounded by his scent, by
him.
My eyelashes fluttered, and I couldn’t catch a full breath.

“I-I’m fine.” I shrugged him off and backed away a step. He’d felt so good. Too good. I wouldn’t let anything like that happen again. I couldn’t go down the path that I already knew would end in disappointment.

But he had a point about the scholarship and the kicking. If I could get a full scholarship, then I would be able to do what I wanted after graduation without student loans hanging around my neck. Instead of switching majors to something more “practical” as my student advisor would call it, I could stay in the arts, graduate, and teach. That was my dream, and it could actually come true if I practiced. And even if I didn’t make first-string, at least I would have tried.

“I owe you one, okay?” He shrugged. “The only reason I’m able to do press conferences after games is because of you. Just let me help you and try to repay the favor that you did me. That’s all I’m asking.” His words seemed reasonable, but I couldn’t miss the eagerness in his tone.

I chewed my lip and considered him. “If we do this, then we’re even, right? You won’t bother me anymore?”

His face fell, but he nodded. “Right. Even.”

“Fine.”
What am I doing?
“We can…we can start this afternoon at the practice field.”

He looked at me through his lashes, and one corner of his mouth quirked up. Warmth bloomed up my neck and blossomed in my cheeks. God, he was gorgeous.

I took another step backward. “Two o’clock.”

He focused on me, not letting me go. “Two, sure.”

“Okay.”

His smile spread across his lips and reached his eyes. “Okay.”