Out of Bounds: A Sports Romance (Soulmates Series Book 5) Read online

  And while part of me felt like an idiot for blowing it, I might have blown it worse if things went further. Not only did I have to assume that he was way more experienced than I was, but I was sure the same was true for the other women he’d been with.

  What if I didn’t measure up?

  What if afterwards he didn’t look at me the same way anymore?

  I liked the way he looked at me, like I was a curiosity. Like he didn’t quite have me figured out.

  Taking things too far with him would probably ruin that. Then I’d just be one more girl who couldn’t say no to him, and as far as I could tell, that was the only thing setting me apart from every other woman who crossed his path.

  Besides, we were wasted, and the last thing my ego could take was landing on his list of mistakes.

  I sighed and slipped my hand down my pajama pants, licking my lips as I thought of the way my breath grew shallow as I sealed his abs behind those tiny buttons, the way his hard-on felt pressed between my hip bones, the way my insides burned as he pulled my hair and opened my mouth with his.

  And just as I reached the brink, my invisible roommate materialized.

  T W E L V E

  - Luke -

  “Are your legs shaking?” I asked Jordan as he grimaced on the bench press. “Please tell me I’m imagining that.”

  “You are,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Good, because I wouldn’t expect you to max out until we’ve loaded this thing up with at least another hundred pounds.”

  “As soon as I get through these reps, I’m going to beat your ass.”

  I squirted some water in my mouth and set the bottle back on the floor. “You’d have to catch me first, and I’m not sure you could on those wobbly legs.”

  A vein popped out in his forehead on the last rep, disappearing only after I locked the weighted platform back into place.

  “Take a minute,” I said, raising a palm between us. “I can’t have you fainting in my arms.” The memory of Rosie wilting against me flashed through my mind, sending a spark of heat up my spine.

  I don’t know how she managed to make such an impression on me, but I would’ve traded all the casual sex in the world for that kiss last night. Even after waiting for it for so many years, it still exceeded my expectations.

  Unfortunately, there were benefits to staying loyal to casual sex as an athlete. Meaningless hookups were only distracting when they were going down, but actually giving a shit about anything besides football was a weakness, a weakness I couldn’t afford.

  After all, if I couldn’t hold on to my scholarship, I’d have no choice but to drop out, and the thought of watching everything I’d worked so hard for go down the drain would be a fate worse than death. So I had to keep my feelings for anything outside the game in check, Rosie included.

  “You’re up,” Jordan said, gesturing towards the reclining bench.

  I swung into position and set my feet shoulder width apart, nodding at him to flip the safety. As soon as he released the latch, I bent my legs, letting the heavy platform sink towards my chest before pushing it away again on an exhale. “Throw another fifty on there.”

  He scowled at me. “Couldn’t have thought of that while you were standing around, eh?”

  “Just do it.”

  He pulled a round weight off the wall and slid it onto the machine. “You can stop stalling now.”

  I smiled and did another rep, banging out eight before taking a breather. “You have any luck last night?”

  “Yes and no.”

  I perked up my ears.

  “No as in not literally.”

  “Got it.”

  “But yes in that your hot blonde friend turned up eventually.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What hot blonde friend?”

  “The one we saw on the quad the day of the clubs fair.”

  “Nikki?”

  He nodded.

  “And?”

  “I think I made some progress.”

  “Progress like you got her number or progress like she might remember your name?” I asked, starting my second set.

  He scrunched his face. “The latter. But I think she would’ve given me her number if she could’ve heard me better over the music.”

  “So you asked for it?”

  “Of course.”

  I didn’t want to give the guy too much shit, but I had to assume he wasn’t as practiced as the guys that normally hit on her. “I hope you weren’t too eager. Between you and me, that’s how her last boyfriend blew it.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean she loses interest in guys who get clingy.”

  “Right.”

  “Your best shot at impressing her is to make another girl laugh on the other side of the room.”

  He groaned. “Aren’t we a little old for that kind of bull?”

  “Yeah, we are. But we’re too old to laugh at fart jokes, too, and you haven’t given up on them.”

  He laughed like he was recalling one of his favorites. “Did you hear that one Troy pulled the other day?”

  “Oh here we go,” I said, starting my third set.

  “He let out one of those SBDs—”

  “SBDs?”

  “Silent but deadly.”

  I cringed. “Please tell me that’s where the story ends.”

  “Nope.” He mopped his brow with the towel around his neck. “Right after he let it rip, he asked if anyone smelled popcorn.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And half the guys in the locker room inhaled so hard I’m surprised they didn’t faint.”

  “Jesus, Jordan. And you’re surprised you didn’t get a number last night.”

  “Don’t be a prick. It’s not like I told Nikki that story…I don’t think.”

  “Regardless, I think we need to work on your game.”

  “How about Friday?” He secured the safety latch so I could rest my legs. “There’s supposed to be a big party at the baseball house.”

  “Can’t,” I said. “I’ve already got plans.”

  “What plans?”

  I swung my legs to the side and stood up. “I’m being interviewed by a journalist.”

  “What journalist?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked. “A student journo who wants to do a piece on me.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “What do you mean how did that happen?” I ran a hand through my dirty hair. “She asked if she could do a piece on me, and I said yes.”

  “She?”

  “Yeah.”

  His bottom lip stuck out like he was half impressed. “Maybe you can meet me out after?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m kind of hoping she’ll have some follow-up questions. Like, off the record.”

  He smiled. “I like your style.”

  “Too bad you’re not the person I’m trying to impress.”

  “So she’s hot, then?”

  I nodded. “Way out of my league, but what kind of man would I be if I didn’t try?”

  “Good point,” he said. “But after she shoots you down, hit me up, and I’ll let you know where I am.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, tossing my sweaty hand towel into the basket outside the locker room.

  “You’re the one that told me you’re more comfortable being the underdog,” Jordan said, walking around the corner to retrieve his shower gear.

  “I suppose I did.” I opened my locker and dug my phone out of my bag, eager to see if I had word from Rosie.

  I’d texted her earlier to see if we were still on for Friday…after deleting a bunch of potential messages about what a good time I had last night.

  When I saw her answer, a smile spread across my face.

  “Miss me already, do ya?”

  F L A S H B A C K

  - Luke -

  I was young and immature when I asked Rosie out freshman year. I think that’s why I reacted so badly to her rej
ection.

  Looking back, I should’ve brushed it off or tried again or not taken her awkward response so damn personally. Instead, I sulked, let it get to me, and used it as an excuse to avoid her.

  For a whole fucking year.

  When I asked Nikki out, I didn’t even realize they knew each other. How could I have? Nikki was a cheerleader while Rosie demonstrated her school spirit by being devoted to the school newspaper. I would’ve had to have been a lot less self-interested and a lot more observant to notice their unlikely friendship.

  But I was neither of those things. I was just a decently coordinated sixteen-year-old whose hormones were going rogue in all the most distracting ways.

  So after watching Nikki twirl her blonde ponytail in my face during the Driver’s Ed class we’d both enrolled in because we couldn’t miss after-school practice, I asked her out.

  My timing was epic, too, because she got her braces off a week later, and there wasn’t a clown in our grade who wasn’t hot for her then. And I have to admit, as a young guy, it was fun to date the girl everyone else wanted on their arm.

  But when it came time to take homecoming pictures at her house, it stopped being fun. Because Rosie showed up with someone else, and I felt my young heart turn to lead.

  It was fucked up.

  I felt like such a dirt bag the whole night as I struggled between my desire to be a good date for my cool girlfriend and my desire to be near Rosie.

  I wanted to keep my eyes on her date’s hands, wanted to pay attention to how frequently he made her smile, made her laugh. I wanted to fucking kill him, to be honest.

  That’s when I realized that my popularity was totally overrated. Because while it helped me get a girl, it hadn’t helped me get the right girl. And I would’ve traded the approval of my entire class that night for one kind word from Rosie Bennet. In fact, I was determined not to leave without one.

  So when Nikki went to call her parents to let them know our group needed to be picked up, I made a beeline for Rosie by the punch bowl.

  “Did you have a good time?” I asked, facing the dancefloor as I sidled up to her.

  “I’m having as good a time as a teenager can have while dancing to parentally approved music with zero buzz whatsoever.”

  I smiled. “You mean you didn’t request this song?”

  She tilted her face towards me. “Not since the last bar mitzvah I went to.”

  I wanted to tell her she looked beautiful in her purple dress, that she’d looked beautiful every day since the day I stopped talking to her. I wanted to say that I was sorry I’d been such a dick, that it hadn’t been easy to ignore her, that it had been impossible. That I didn’t want to do it anymore.

  But not only would that have been inappropriate, I didn’t have the guts.

  “We should probably dance to this,” she said when the song changed.

  “Really?” I asked, wishing I could take it back.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, if we’re lucky, we’ll never hear this song again, so we should probably celebrate that by at least swaying to it one last time.”

  It took me a second to register that it was “I Swear” by All-4-One. “You’re right,” I said, reaching for her empty plastic cup and tossing it in the garbage behind us. “We’ll only live to regret it otherwise.”

  I took her hand, led her towards the center of the gym, and slung my hands around her hips. She blushed as she laid her forearms on my shoulders and clasped her hands behind my neck.

  I desperately wanted to make conversation with her, to hear her voice, to make her laugh, but all I could think about was how dry my mouth was and how I should’ve drunk more punch. Finally, I pulled the reins on my racing thoughts, tried to ignore the words to the song, and focused on not crossing the line with my girlfriend’s best friend.

  To my credit, I resisted the urge to pull her close, to press her soft cheek to mine, to smell her hair. I did everything right.

  But it felt all wrong.

  And I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. I promised myself then that I would fight harder for the things I wanted, that I wouldn’t give in to minor setbacks, that my first real taste of regret would be my last.

  That night at the after-party, Nikki wanted to go all the way with me.

  But I couldn’t do it. I lied about not having a condom, about being too drunk.

  We broke up a few days later. She said I was too nice for her and insisted I’d be happier with someone else.

  Needless to say, the feeling was mutual.

  T H I R T E E N

  - Rosie -

  I was polishing my glasses when I felt the air around me shift. I slid them back on, and when the restaurant came into focus, I saw Luke heading straight towards me.

  “Hi,” I said, pushing my chair back to stand up.

  “Don’t get up,” he said, leaning over to press his cheek to mine before pulling out the chair across from me.

  He smelled of aftershave, and his light hair was only half dried. “You scrub up nice,” I said, instantly wishing I’d gotten off to a more professional start.

  He smiled and took a seat.

  My eyes lingered on his lone dimple so long my cheeks got hot before I managed to tear them away. “Thanks for doing this,” I said, reaching in my purse for my reporter’s notebook and pen. “I’m sure you’d rather be out partying with your friends or something.”

  “I wouldn’t,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  “Oh goo—”

  “For years.”

  “This isn’t a date, Luke.”

  “Of course not. This is a strictly professional affair.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I can tell because you’re not wearing a choker tonight.”

  My mind flashed back to the way he held my neck, to the way he took my pulse, to the way he— “Why don’t you have a look at the menu, and we can start once we’ve ordered?”

  “Great idea,” he said, dropping his eyes to the crème-colored page in front of him. “I’m absolutely starving.”

  “I suppose that’s your constant state with all the hours you’re practicing these days.”

  “It’s been my constant state since I was thirteen,” he said. “I only play football so I don’t balloon.”

  I pinched the silver coin on my necklace and dragged it along the chain. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you’re just a fat kid trapped in the body of an athlete?”

  He raised his eyes. “You came here for the truth, didn’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you know what you’re having?”

  “The pumpkin and ricotta ravioli,” I said.

  “Do you want a starter?”

  I scanned the top of the menu. “I could be persuaded to split the calamari.”

  “Red or white?”

  “You have an ID?”

  “Of course,” he said. “You’re not the only one with useful friends.” He called the waiter over and ordered for me before getting chicken carbonara for himself and a side order of patate al forno since they didn’t have mashed potatoes.

  “You’re a white wine guy, huh?” I asked when the waiter disappeared.

  “Not really,” he said. “I just figured you’d prefer it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I ordered red and it stained your lips, I might struggle to answer your hard-hitting questions.”

  My heart swelled in my chest. “How considerate of you.”

  “You look stunning, by the way,” he said, shamelessly letting his eyes trail along the scoop neck of my maroon dress.”

  “What, this old thing?” I only bought it this week for the occasion.

  “So.” He leaned back in his chair. “I trust you have some good questions lined up so your assignment isn’t a total bust?”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “If you turn out to be terribly dull, I’ll just make everything up, and you’ll never tell a soul.”
/>   “Deal,” he said. “As long as I come across as a hero, you can write whatever you want.”

  “That’s not really how this works.”

  “How does it work?” he asked, placing his napkin in his lap.

  “Basically, I come up with an angle, and I only use the stuff you say that supports that perspective.”

  “What’s the angle?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Oh good,” he said. “For a second I was thinking I didn’t need to be here.”

  “Why don’t you kick things off by telling me a little bit about yourself?” I said, wondering whether that was a good place to start or if I was only asking to indulge my own curiosity.

  “I suppose I should answer as if you don’t know me at all.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, you know where I went to high school and that I’m a fantastic kisser.”

  I took a deep breath and smoothed my napkin across my legs. “Feel free to skip those details.”

  “Sure you don’t need a reminder?” he asked, pointing a thumb behind him. “Because I’m not above taking you in the bathroom right now and-”

  “Luke, please focus,” I said, secretly relieved that he wasn’t embarrassed to acknowledge what happened between us last weekend.

  “I haven’t been able to focus since you jumped me.”

  “That is not what happened.”

  “No?” A sly smile teased his lips. “That’s how I remember it.”

  I knew he was only trying to get a rise out of me. What I didn’t know was why it was working so well.

  “We can start anytime now, Ms. Bennet.”

  “My initial question still stands, Mr. Hudson.”

  “Fair enough. I was born on February 2, same year as you. My old man got me playing football as soon as I was old enough to understand simple instructions, and I’ve played my ass off since then.”

  “You’re here on a scholarship, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Your parents must be really proud.”

  “Of course.”

  “What do they do?” I asked.

  “My mom’s a nurse and my dad used to be in construction.”