The Player and the Bet: An Enemies-to-Lovers College Sports Romance Read online

  “That’s all?” I ask just to make sure I don’t have to kill her or something after I get her to drop out.

  “That’s all. Get Sadie Edwards to leave school and never re-enroll, and then you’ll have paid your favor to the Organization. I trust you know who she is?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  I lean back and breathe out a sigh of relief, but I can’t help asking, “What did she do? Like, why do you guys care about her at all?”

  “That’s none of your business, Mr. Law. Now, get out.”

  I look around and realize we’ve pulled up back in front of the town hall. I slide over and eagerly open the door, relieved as hell to get out of here.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Delilah. No offense, but, as fine as you are, I hope I don’t ever see you again,” I say, as I slide out of the car.

  “You won’t unless you fail.”

  She looks at me with her gray fox-like eyes narrowed, but I can see just the hint of a smile on her lips. She’s acting all serious, but she enjoys this.

  I shut the door. The car immediately takes off, and I’m left standing alone in the deserted street.

  What just happened feels so surreal. It all happened so quickly. I keep staring at the spot where the car disappeared around the corner.

  Why would the Org ever care about someone like Sadie? That girl has no power. She’s poor as dirt—her nickname is “Trailer Park” for crying out loud.

  But maybe she’s deeper than I thought. Maybe there’s a lot more going on with Sadie Edwards than I realized. Maybe the girl has layers and beneath that abrasive shell and curvy body are secrets no one would ever have guessed at…

  I shrug and head back inside to get drunk and party.

  11

  Sadie

  The light coming in through my window slowly wakes me up. As I open my eyes, everything quickly rushes back to me all at once. I groan.

  When I was asleep, I didn’t have to think about it, but now that I’m awake I can’t escape reality. It wasn’t all a nightmare. I really am paired up with that loud, obnoxious player, and my whole academic career now relies on keeping him out of trouble. And I got so pissed off at him last night, I left him alone at a party full of influential donors to the school. I groan again, just imagining all the trouble he could have gotten into. I screwed up.

  I slip out from beneath the covers and drag my feet across the floor and out of my room. When I look across the hall, I’m happy to see the bathroom is free.

  I walk passed Jess’s open door and see her room is empty. She’s an early riser and has probably already had breakfast and is now in the library finishing her coursework for the day before class even starts. Luna’s door is closed, and I’m sure she’s still in bed. That girl loves to sleep and would stay in bed until the evening if she could. I’m in the middle. I like to sleep in, but not until the sun sets.

  I flick on the bathroom light and look at myself in the mirror. There are huge bags under my eyes because I didn’t sleep well. I notice my roots are getting pretty long, but luckily I have dark hair so it doesn’t look bad with the grown out burgundy. I actually kind of like how it looks. It looks like a subtle ombré, and I think I’ll leave it for a while longer before dying it.

  I wash my face and get ready for the day. I always wear foundation to even out my pale skin, some lipstick in a natural shade, mascara and eyeliner—which I apply pretty heavy-handed. I like makeup, but I don’t like to spend a ton of time on it.

  On my way out of the washroom, I spy Marty lying on the couch.

  “Morning,” I say.

  He nods sleepily before pulling the blanket higher under his chin and going back to looking at his phone. “Morning, Sades.”

  Marty is always over at our place. He spends most nights sleeping on our couch because his roommate is psycho. The guy picks fights with Marty constantly over stupid stuff and makes their apartment a miserable environment to live in. I love Marty, so I enjoy having him over all the time. It’s more like the four of us live together rather than just the three.

  I walk back into my room and shut the door. I pick up my phone and see I have a bunch of missed texts from Mace. Dread fills me as I look down at the screen. What’s he done now?

  When I got back from the party last night, I went straight to bed. I didn’t want to deal with what had just happened. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to fall asleep and be dead to the world for a few hours. But looking down at my phone, I realize Mace was up practically all night.

  As I scroll through the texts, they get more and more incoherent as it gets later and later.

  Mace: Where’d you go? 11:03 p.m.

  Mace: Come back 11:15 p.m.

  Mace: I’ll make it worth your while 11:16 p.m.

  Mace: You know you want me 11:46 p.m.

  Mace: Tease 12:06 a.m.

  Mace: You loked so hoot tonight 12:18 a.m.

  Mace: When di you get hot? 12:18 a.m.

  Mace: Like was the fuk 12:34 a.m.

  Mace: Com meet me 12:38 a.m.

  Mace: Pepperoni mushrooms pepper duhhhhhh 1:01 a.m.

  Mace: My place 1:56 a.m.

  Mace: Noww 2:01 a.m.

  Mace: *video of him taking shots* 2:41 a.m.

  Mace: See what yo miss? 2:59 a.m.

  Mace: U shud drop out 3:10 a.m.

  Mace: So hot 3:14 a.m.

  Mace: Sooo annoying 3:26 a.m.

  Mace: *blurry picture of him with the other Players* 3:49 a.m.

  Mace: jdfslkjfdaldljkadfjf 3:52 a.m.

  The last thing he sent me is a video and as I watch it my stomach sinks. The person filming isn’t holding the camera steady, but I can clearly see what Mace is doing. They are on campus, and Mace is in the frame next to the big statue of one of the founders of Winterford University—and Mace is clearly peeing on the statue’s foot.

  “Take a picture it’ll last longer,” Mace says to the person filming.

  “I am,” a male voice behind the camera says. It sounds like Camden. “I’m recording this.”

  “Oh, good. I think I’ll send it to TP,” Mace says, then turns slightly, while still peeing, and addresses the camera as if he’s talking directly to me. “See what you’re missing when you go home early, TP? No wonder you’re so lame. Who leaves a party to go home and sleep? You can sleep when you’re dead.”

  He finishes then zips up his fly.

  “Hope you don’t get in trouble for that,” he says as he walks towards the camera. “I’ve been naughty.”

  Other people come into the frame, and it looks like he has the entire frat house with him. They are all laughing and high-fiving. I can’t watch anymore.

  “Ugh!” I groan in frustration and throw my phone onto the bed.

  It bounces a couple of times, then stays still.

  I could get in serious trouble for that video. If anyone else sees it, I’m as good as expelled.

  I angrily yank on a fresh pair of black jeans and a T-shirt. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that idiot get me expelled. I have to stop letting my emotions get the best of me like they did last night. No matter how annoying he is, no matter how infuriating, I need to keep a level head. I can’t let him get under my skin.

  I grab my backpack, put on my leather jacket and walk out the door with renewed determination.

  “Bye, Marty!” I call, but he’s already asleep again.

  After stopping for coffee, I walk straight across campus and down the quiet street to the idiot’s house. There’s no hesitation this time, as I walk right up to the front door and let myself in. I’m not surprised to find it unlocked. They have so many people coming in and out of this house, I’m sure they never bother to lock the doors. Besides, who would be stupid enough to steal from a mansion full of giant football players?

  The house is quiet. As I walk in, I see a couple of guys passed out on the couches. I march right passed them and down the hall. They don’t even stir.

  I remember from last night that Mace
lives on the main floor in the room at the end of the hall. When I get there, I find his door open a crack. I push it all the way open and walk straight in without knocking. I don’t care what he’s doing. He doesn’t respect me or my time, so I’m not going to respect his privacy.

  Light is streaming in through the tall windows and landing on the bed. There are two people there, asleep, and the sight makes my stomach clench in a weird way I don’t really understand.

  One is a very pretty blonde girl who’s sleeping on top of the navy blue comforter. She’s fully clothed in her yellow party dress and still has one heel on. It looks like she came in here and passed out without even getting under the covers.

  Mace is on the far side of the bed—and on a bed this big that’s pretty far away. He’s sleeping on his side, facing away from her. I can’t tell if he’s naked or not because the comforter is covering up to his waist, but his top half is bare. I get to see another glimpse of his body. He is all hard muscles and tanned skin.

  Stop looking! I chastise myself. You can’t stand him, remember? Who cares how defined his pecs are!

  I shake my head to get rid of the unwanted thoughts. We’ve only been hanging out together for two days, and already I’ve seen more of his body than I ever wanted to.

  “Hey,” I say, but he doesn’t wake up.

  I walk over and nudge him lightly. He doesn’t move a muscle. He’s dead to the world. I roll my eyes and then grab his arm—trying to ignore how hard his muscles feel beneath my palm—and shake.

  “Wake up, Mace.”

  He groans deeply and slowly comes back to the land of the living. He squints up at me in confusion.

  “What’s your problem?” he asks in a voice rough from sleep.

  I hand him the coffee I picked up on the way over.

  “It’s time to wake up,” I tell him. “You may have partied all night, but it’s still a school day. We have to get to class, and there’s no way I’m missing it because you’re too hung over to go. Get up.”

  “What’s going on?” the girl asks sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

  She looks around in confusion before slowly realizing where she is.

  “You could do better,” I tell her.

  Mace laughs suddenly, surprising me, and I jump.

  “Yeah, probably,” he agrees.

  The girl stands up on wobbly legs. Her blonde hair is plastered against one side of her face. She looks at Mace and runs her eyes over his bare chest.

  “Did we…” She trails off, but it’s clearly a question.

  He laughs again.

  “Nah, you just came in here when we got back to the house and passed out. I didn’t feel like kicking you out, even though I normally don’t let girls sleep in my bed. I want them to get out when we’re done because I need my uninterrupted beauty sleep. So, you’re welcome.”

  “And they say chivalry is dead,” I mumble.

  Mace gives me a look.

  The girl regards the two of us, then turns back to Mace. She brushes her hair behind her ear and tries to look seductive—which is comical given her smudged makeup and ratty hair from last night.

  “Well, I know there’s no way you’re going to sleep with her.” She motions to me. “So, if you want, I can come over later and make up for falling asleep last night, if you know what I mean…”

  “Even the wallpaper knows what you mean,” I say sarcastically, and she shoots me an angry look.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Mace says noncommittally.

  She gives me one last glare before walking out of the room with only one shoe on. When she’s gone, I turn back to Mace—who has immediately fallen asleep again.

  “Wake up!” I nudge him hard.

  “What? I’m awake. I’m awake,” he mumbles and props himself up against the headboard.

  “I can’t believe you got wasted two nights in a row,” I say. “I know that if I get too drunk, the hangover knocks me out for at least a day. I can’t even imagine drinking again the next night.”

  “I know, right? I’m amazing,” he says with a self-satisfied grin and takes a sip of coffee.

  I roll my eyes. Hard.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Well, you’ll have to make your insults more obvious then.”

  “Just assume everything I’m saying to you is an insult,” I shoot back.

  “I’ll just have to push you up against more walls then, because that shut you up real quick last night. And the way you were looking at me, like you wanted to jump my bones, was anything but insulting. In fact, it was downright flattering. I like it when you stroke my ego, TP, but I’d like it even better if you were stroking something else.”

  He raises his dark eyebrows suggestively, and I clench my jaw. He’s pissing me off with his obnoxious taunts, but I’m more pissed off by the heat that is rising from my core and into my cheeks.

  I grit my teeth and say, “Get bent, Mace. I would never stroke anything of yours. Despite what you may have thought happened last night, I wasn’t turned on in the least. I was just too shocked by how gross and presumptuous you were being to push you away right away.”

  “Sure, sure.” He nods like he doesn’t believe me and takes another large gulp of coffee.

  “Whatever, I don’t care,” I say. “Now get up and get dressed. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  “Fine, TP,” he says in resignation. “You’re the boss.”

  With no hesitation, he throws off the covers and reveals a very naked quarterback. My mouth drops open.

  He stands so that he’s towering over me. I try to keep my eyes locked on his so they don’t drift down and get another eyeful of his very large member.

  “Like what you see?” he asks with a cocky smile.

  I just stutter, and he smirks harder.

  “No!” I finally manage to yell.

  “I’ll let you take it for a test drive anytime you want,” he says in a low, purring voice.

  I finally pull myself together and spin around so I’m facing the wall. I don’t want him to see how heavily I’m breathing or how red my cheeks are. Without him in my line of sight, I’m able to get it together enough to tell him to go get dressed immediately.

  He chuckles, but I hear him walk over to his closet on the other side of the room. He starts rummaging around in there, and I take the opportunity to get out.

  “I’ll be waiting outside. Hurry up,” I say and practically run out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me.

  12

  Mace

  Another day, another torturous experience with pain-in-the-ass Sadie. She’s been stuck to me all day. I actually had to go to my classes for once. I tried to ditch her, but she kept tracking me down. She’s a determined girl, I’ll give her that. I now realize the only time I’m going to get a break from her is when I’m on the football field.

  Practice was always my favorite time of the day anyway, but especially now because I get to get away from her. She’s in the stands watching though, so not a complete break. I glance over at her for a moment and see she’s not even watching. She’s doing her homework. Unbelievable.

  She goes to the best football school in the entire USA—the entire world, for that matter—and she couldn’t care less. We’ve had people fly across the country just to watch our practices, and she has it right in front of her and isn’t the least bit grateful. She’s such a snob. She probably thinks she’s better than all of us down here because we’re just smashing into each other while she’s up there learning about Freud.

  I turn away in disgust and get my head back into the drill. I crouch down and place my fingers in the cool grass, ready to attack. At the sound of an assistant coach’s whistle, I sprint off the line like a caged animal that’s finally been set loose. My partner is a junior named Kevin. He’s a cool guy, but right now he’s my enemy, and I’m going to destroy him.

  I fly towards him. He has his shoulder down, but at the last second I angle mine even lower to come in under his. I h
it him hard. He braces, but I’m coming with too much power, and he goes skidding backwards.

  This is just practice, so I’m not going full out—because if I was then he’d have broken ribs right now.

  “Phew,” says Kevin in his southern drawl. “Good one, Mace. Hit me right hard. Need to catch my breath.”

  He puts his hands on his knees and sucks in quick breaths. I go over and fist bump him.

  “You too. Next time, if you angle lower, it’s harder for the other person to get under,” I say.

  “Will do,” he wheezes. “Thanks.”

  I look over to see if the loser in the stands is watching. She has her head still buried in her book, and it annoys me.

  “Mace!” Coach Hill calls.

  I turn away from her and jog over to him. She didn’t even look up when he called my name. She’s not doing a very good job of keeping an eye on me if she doesn’t even pay attention when someone yells for me.

  When I reach Coach Hill, he’s huddled around an electronic playbook with a couple of the other coaches.

  “Law, which way do you think this guy should run? Left or right to get around this line?” he asks gruffly.

  I can tell he doesn’t want to ask my opinion, and he’s trying to do it in a way that’ll be the smallest stroke to my ego, but he needs me, and he knows it.

  I look down at the tablet and study the play for a few seconds.

  “Left. This other guy is going right, and this one here will fake left but go right too. If he goes left, he can slip through this opening right here and break through. See this one here?” I point to one of the little “x”’s indicating a player.

  Hill grunts, and the other coaches nod their heads in agreement with what I’ve said.

  “Alright, get back out on the field,” he says.

  “You’re welcome,” I say.

  He gives me a withering look, but I just give him a winning smile as I run backwards to my spot.

  Ever since I started on the team in freshmen year, it’s been a battle between Hill and me. We’re both dominant guys, and we both want to be the leader, so we end up butting heads a lot. He wants to rule the field. He wants everyone to be scared of him so that he has complete control, but I don’t play by the rules. That’s why he pulled that bullshit stunt with the dean. He’s trying to get me under his thumb by threatening to kick me out of school. But it was all just an empty threat. He needs me, and he knows it. As much as he hates me, he knows I’m good.