Red Flag (FSCU Pitbulls Book 2) Read online

  Red Flag

  By Stella Marie Alden

  Contents

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  From the Author!

  Busted Play

  Copyright (C) 2019 Stella Marie Alden

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

  [email protected]

  Blessings to my family, my ARC team, my Facebook fans, and those who open all my newsletters. You help make these books possible.

  To Rich, my hubby-editor, thank you for putting up with me!

  To Katherine, my PA, thanks for never giving up.

  Prologue

  Jackson

  A full moon, along with campus globe lights, brighten the parking lot like day. A couple yards away, three large men fidget by a red Toyota, their faces hidden in hoodies. One nudges the others, they turn in my direction, and their bodies tense.

  The guy on my phone said he wanted to renegotiate my payments but I wasn’t born yesterday. Loan sharks beat the shit out of people like me but what choices did I have? My credit cards were maxed.

  “Hey, y’all. You wanted to talk to me?” With a grim chuckle, I step off the grass and onto the long stretch of asphalt holding over two hundred cars.

  There’s a sharp click. Metal flashes in one of the thug’s hands while his two associates circle behind. I’m guessing a chit-chat is off the table so I bend my knees, take my stance, and wait for their attack.

  From the direction of the dorms, soft footfalls inform me of an audience. Ryan must have brought a few of our team from the party in Deacon House.

  “You guys should go.” I don’t need them messed up in my shit.

  “I don’t think so.” The guy with the blade doesn’t see my friends, thinks I’m talking to him, and takes two steps forward.

  “Don’t do it.” My gaze catches his and he flinches.

  That’s right, motherfucker. I’m not scared. One eye on him, I inch my head to the right, and get a sense of the other two.

  The change in the wind causes them to back off. Before they can get out of my reach, I whip my foot to the knee of the closest and cartilage cracks. To my right, the next attacker howls and rushes forward but I back fist him so hard, he falls into the third. While they wobble, I drop onto my hands and knock their legs from under them in a sweeping kick. To keep them down, I head punch their temples.

  I don’t need them coming after my pals.

  “Oh shit!” Behind me, Matt shouts and I turn to where he points to a set of headlights meandering up the drive.

  “Campus rent-a-cops. C’mon. We need to go.” Ryan takes the lead and we bolt down the hill.

  As we rush across the grass, my thoughts turn to Star. Dammit. I was going to meet up with her at the party, apologize, and ask her to my room.

  Chapter 1

  Jackson – 3 weeks ago

  “Whoa, Finn, check out the redhead.” Russ pokes my pal Ryan while a few of us dangle our legs in the shallow end of the Olympic-sized pool.

  When Coach stopped practice early, we took a solemn oath. This afternoon there will be no cheerleaders, flag girls or band camp groupies. We need to get serious, study the new playbook, and get in a few laps.

  Through no fault of her own, the girl marching toward Ryan is unaware of our rules which is a damn shame, because of all of us, he can be the biggest asshole.

  “Block and stop.” He makes the call.

  “I got this, bro.” Snickering, I ready for duty.

  Russ is more reluctant. “Really, dude? She’s gorgeous. Why not let her sit with us and get to know what great guys we are?”

  Ryan gives him the evil eye. “We don’t need her kind of distraction. Look. She’s fucking blushing and we haven’t said boo. She’s not our type.”

  “I disagree. She’s perfect.” Quest, our punter, wolf whistles.

  Always a willing wingman, I jump out of the pool and step in front of the girl to keep her from advancing.

  “Hey, little darlin’, can I help you?”

  “Kira! Come back here.” A familiar voice sounds from the other side of the pool and I turn my head to see who it is.

  Holy shit. Star Johnson dyed her hair pink? Not only that, she’s wearing nothing but an amazing body in a tiny green bikini. Damn, the pink flesh surrounding her nipples is almost visible and she must’ve waxed her bush, otherwise blond hair would be poking out of those low cut bottoms.

  Reluctantly, I lift my eyes to her face. Hands on her hips, the girl I’ve had the hots for since freshman year stands on the other side of the pool, angry as a wet hornet.

  Kira pokes my shoulder. “Excuse me? I was hoping to talk to Ryan Finnegan.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” I step in front of her and flex my pecs but my gaze is glued over her head, to the girl I let slip away.

  Quest, legs dangling in the deep end of the pool, jumps up and trips. He bumps into Matt who wobbles, then staggers into me. Straight from our private playbook, I feign to be off balance, take a step back, and gently bump the redhead into the pool with my hip.

  I give Ryan a thumbs-up and high five Matt, Quest, and Russ.

  Looking below in the water, I gasp, and being a gentlemen, avert my gaze. Shit. Red wasn’t wearing a bathing suit and her white halter top and shorts are see-through when wet.

  Star, light blue eyes storming under long pink bangs, stomps across the pool in her bare feet while Ryan dives in the pool, t-shirt in hand.

  “Eyes here, gentlemen… Fucking assholes.” My old flame points her finger at me, knowing our moves all too well.

  “Me? Why didn’t you warn her?” Brows raised, I step up, my bare chest almost touching her incredible boobs.

  Damned if electricity doesn’t snap like heat lightning and my half chub goes to full hard-on. Two strong magnets held inches apart, we stare at each other with our jaws dropped.

  In the pool below something similar goes on as Ryan gives Red his t-shirt.

  “What’s up with the new hair color?” As I try to calm my over-interested libido, my gaze wanders from Star’s pink toenails, up her long legs and lush near-naked curves.

  “I wanted to try something different. Why the beard?” Her lips part and nostrils flair.

  More blood runs south leaving my brain oxygen-deprived. “Pretty much the same.”

  Her eyes flick down below my bel
t and a sexy shade of pink flushes the upper part of her cheeks. “How was your summer?”

  “Fine, fine. You?” I keep my face and tone neutral despite what’s going on in my pants,

  We barely notice the two in the pool until the fiery redhead shouts, “You stupid… pigs!”

  “Oh shit.” Star chuckles while her friend kicks to the ladder, pulls herself out, and leans in to grab her soaked straw hat.

  When Russ laughs, the wet coed goes after him. “You think this is funny?”

  Quest steps up in front of him and looks to the ground, grinning. “No ma’am. It was an accident and we are all very, very sorry.”

  “Riiiggght. I shouldn’t’ve expected any better from a Pitbull.” Kira glares.

  “Uh-ohhh.” I hiss under my breath to Star. “She shouldn’t’ve insulted the team.”

  Ryan swims to where she drips. “It was just a little funnin’. No harm done.”

  “No harm? Look at my hat!” Red glowers. “I was going to ask you a couple questions about Coach Bradley but now, I have everything I need. It’s pretty obvious why he was fired.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My pal leans in, tone threating but Kira is on a roll.

  “Everyone knows he was fired for groping a female student last year.”

  “Whoa, is that true?” I turn to Star and she nods, pink locks bobbing up and down.

  “Well, damn.” I miss what Ryan says next but whatever it was, it pours gasoline onto Red’s flames.

  She shouts, “I heard you. You called out block and…”

  “Tackle?” I add from the peanut gallery, trying to deflect some of the tension.

  “Not helping.” Ryan scowls across the pool at me.

  Thunder rumbles, dark clouds gather, and Star shakes her head. “You guys really shouldn’t have pushed her in. She wasn’t wearing a suit.”

  I can’t very well say what I’m thinking. I could’ve stopped the play but got distracted by a pink-haired girl with a body so hot I sweated bullets the moment I laid eyes on her.

  “C’mon, Star, we’re out of here.” Kira grabs her friend’s arm before I have time to get Star’s number.

  Annoyed, I give her angry friend a big grin and a wink. “See y’all later, Red.”

  “Jerk.” Star punches me in the arm then rushes to keep up with Red throwing me a middle finger.

  I’m about to follow and apologize but my phone rings. After checking the caller ID, I swipe across the screen and walk outside the pool’s fence.

  “Ink? You there?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?” My buddy’s voice is tense but me and him go back as far as kindergarten. He knows I wouldn’t use this number unless it was important.

  “I need money.” I pace outside the fence while the breeze picks up, thunder grows louder, and lightning flashes.

  “Get a credit card.”

  “Did that. Maxed them out.”

  “Christ, what you into, bro? Steroids? I can get them a whole lot cheaper…”

  I glance around, afraid someone might overhear. “No. Damn it. Not that, either. Can you get it for me or not?”

  “How much we talking?”

  “Maybe a few grand.” A few months ago, that amount would’ve been staggering, now it’s a drop in the bucket.

  “Shit, Jacks, these guys charge a lot of interest.”

  “I know, but I’ll have millions by spring. I’m a sure bet.”

  “Nothing is certain, dude.”

  “I got no other options.”

  “Has this got to do with your cousin last summer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck. I’ll text you a number but do not mess with these guys, okay?”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’ll be careful… And thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me, bro. I’m not doing you any favors. Remember what I said.”

  I hang up the phone and ignore the incoming call from a collection agency. Then, I sit down with the guys to study the new coach’s playbook. I can’t fuck up. We need to win the championship.

  “Need help?” Ryan glances my way as I struggle to memorize the plays.

  “Says the dyslexic guy?” I’m the only one he allows to kid him because my learning disabilities are far worse.

  Grinning, he punches my arm. “Who was the pink haired girl you were talking to?”

  I laugh. “She would be Star. The girl drummer?”

  His eyes pop out of his head. “No way. Holy crap, she looks completely different.”

  I shake my head, too. “Hell, I thought she was gorgeous in her loose tops and baggy jeans. Now, I can’t get her out of my head.”

  “Just be careful, dude.”

  “Says the pot to the kettle.” I glance up at the sky when wet dots show up on my paper.

  Dodging rain, we gather up our stuff and I think back on a kiss from a pretty blond my freshman year. I was randy, a hotshot football player on full scholarship. Lots of girls were willing to jump into my bed and I wanted to play the field. When Star saw I didn’t want to be exclusive, she dropped me like the piece of crap I was at the time.

  How can I convince her I’ve changed?

  Chapter 2

  Star

  I’ve had a serious crush on Jackson Farnsworth since the first day of college and can’t believe, three years later, he notices me.

  Not before and definitely not since, has anyone used his tongue quite so expertly. Unfortunately, he got disinterested in me after a few weeks.

  What did I expect? He always was a big star, heading for the NFL. And me? I was a plain jane from Vermont.

  Was is the operative word.

  I laugh bitterly, wishing I knew then what I learned last summer. If you don’t want to be a wallflower, stop matching the wallpaper. My whole life, I tried to live down my name. This year, I’m going to live up to it, starting with the wide receiver.

  I put my arm over Kira’s shoulder and walk her back to the dorm. She’s still fuming how the guys tricked her and dunked her in the pool.

  She needs a pep talk. “This is our senior year, girlfriend! We are not going to start it out by whining about asshole football players.”

  I settle down my journalist-wannabe friend and don a one piece suit as the storm decides not to linger. Watching guys do their workout made me want to do the same and it’s impossible in a bikini.

  I pad along the cement and tuck my pink locks into a bathing cap. While the testosterone-team eats dinner, I can manage a few laps in peace and quiet. After, I’ll grab a burger at the Student Union.

  The rain only made the humidity worse, making outside more like a steam room. Anxious to cool off, I pull my earbuds, place my phone and towel onto a lounge chair, and dive in.

  It takes a moment to find my rhythm as my arms swish through the water. Kicking, with cicadas and crickets singing in the background, I can’t calm my thoughts. I’m out of sorts. I couldn’t miss the desire in Jackson’s eyes and not sure what to do about it.

  The old me with mousy blond hair and sweats? She’d want nothing to do with him.

  The pink-haired rocker? She’s all in.

  He may be a player, but this year, so am I. My senior year is my last chance to sow my wild oats, as my grandma used to say. Then, I’ll earn my doctorate and take over my dad’s practice.

  Arm over arm, I repeat this mantra in a meditative, trance-like state. When I sense someone close by, I open my eyes, turn my head, and gulp in water.

  Jackson Farnworth is sitting in a chair, legs open, arms crossed over his gorgeous abs.

  Coughing, I stop, and try not to drown.

  After I catch my breath, I ask, “Stare much?”

  “Only when I like what I see.” When the handsome receiver eyes me up and down, I can’t help but grin at his approval.

  “You coming in or what?”

  “Sure.” He sets his folded towel next to mine, stretches at the edge of the pool, and shows off his incredible washboard.

  Holy shit. He’s
gorgeous.

  He eyes me with an arrogant grin.

  With a clean dive, he swims underwater and meets me halfway across the pool where I still tread water. Drops cling to his thick dark lashes as he breaks the surface inches from my nose.

  “Hi.” That may be the word formed by his mouth but his eyes say, fuck me.

  Four years ago, I wouldn’t’ve given him the time of day. I didn’t need a player in my life. However, I’m firmly resolved to have a senior fling, far outside the purview of my conservative parents. Once I’m back in Vermont, I’ll need to toe the line, walk the straight and narrow, and a whole lot of other idioms which all add up to not-having-fun.

  “Excuse me?” My cheeks heat, one side of his sexy mouth rises, and at the deep end, he waves me to join him.

  Once there, he tugs on a lock of hair that escaped my cap.

  “I said, I like the new look.”

  “Thanks.” My gaze locks on his where black centers widen with desire.

  It’s not like we’ve never kissed before and I want this, player or no. I lean in with my mouth open and his soft lips, surrounded by wet beard hair, play across mine.

  His dark eyes close as if in pain and I might have a clue what he’s thinking. If we go down this road, someone may get hurt. He’s headed for the NFL and me to a doctorate in psychology. No two futures could be further apart.

  Shaking his head, he makes up his mind and springs off the wall toward the other side of the pool. Tats cover his upper arms and back. One must be new, because it’s still bright. I may never know because clearly, the kiss was not to his liking.

  Resigned, I kick off the side and restart my workout. This time, however, the meditativeness refuses to come. His presence is a disturbing force. Even the insects seem to have noticed and have moved their party to another lawn.

  After counting twenty laps, I swim to the ladder, my thoughts obsessing over his fine form.

  He was so full of himself my freshman year and I was head over heels in love. Just like now, I wasn’t in his league. He was a ten and me, a seven on my best days. Tears sting but I swallow them back.

  I may be closer to a nine now but it isn’t enough for Jackson Farnsworth. Fine. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea. I don’t need him.