Misconduct (FSCU Pitbulls Book 1) Page 2

  “What’s this?” My ears perk up. I’m so damn close to being drafted into the NFL, I don’t need any kind of shit that might lose us the championship.

  “Nothing.” Jackson shoots me a look that says drop it. We’ve been friends since freshman year, so I do, for now.

  After we eat a special breakfast designed to bulk us up, we head out to the field. It doesn’t take long for our new coach, CJ Quinn to get on Jackson’s case. Poor guy, I’d feel sorry for him except for the way Russell glares.

  Breathing hard, I grab a Gatorade and pull Matt aside. “Wanna tell me what’s up with Jacks?”

  “He’s got a girl. Pink hair? Clear blue eyes? Plays drums in the band.”

  “That’s Star.”

  “Right. She hangs around with the girl you fucked. You know, one and done.” He high fives me and I do but it makes me uncomfortable.

  Kira is different than all the others and I don’t like the guys trash-talking her. When I glance at my emails on the way to class, I’m surprised to see I got an IM from her, asking me for a favor. She wants to know if I’ll bring her today’s notes from class.

  There’s also another from my personal assistant, Jeff, telling me he got a peer tutor to help with English. Public speaking should be an easy ‘A’ but I won’t turn down the help. Once the season starts, I’ll need all I can get.

  Jeff: Kira McK. Know her?

  I send him a thumbs up. Honestly, I’m not sure what my gray-matter thinks about having her for a tutor but my cock is all in.

  Shit.

  In class, I take the most notes I ever have in anyone sitting. After all, Kira is counting on me but unfortunately, I can’t get away to see her until practice ends.

  Later, when I text her, she sends me her off campus address. Showering and smelling pretty good from some designer cologne, I knock on her door.

  She opens it, my heart jumps out of my chest, and blood rushes south. I’m so hard, it hurts. How the fuck does she do it? Maybe it’s because she’s wearing the t-shirt, I gave her the first time we fucked. Maybe it’s the pert nose or perhaps her chameleon eyes hold some magic.

  I have no goddamned idea, but I am totally screwed. I don’t have time for a love affair or even a like-affair. In the past, my self-imposed rules have worked perfectly. We were supposed to be one and done. How is it, my senior year, primed for the NFL draft, I fall for a journalism major, of all things.

  “You coming in or what?” She takes a step back into the living room, covered in flowery pillows and blankets. The walls are covered with pictures and the curtains have deep creases, like someone ironed them.

  “Are you feeling better?” I focus my gaze back on her and as a second thought, put my cowboy hat in my hand to cover my junk.

  “Better, thanks.” She eyes me over her glass of gold bubbling liquid while she sips.

  “Here’s the notes you asked for.” I hand her what I printed out.

  “You could’ve just emailed them, but thank you.” Her smile is nicer, warmer. More like I remember from before we fucked.

  She thumbs through the pages and then her brows crease. “You’re dyslexic?”

  Shit. I thought I got all the letters straight. “Sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” Her brows go up. “That must be hard.”

  “Not so much.” I don’t want sympathy from the woman I want to fuck so, I give her my panty-melting smile and surprisingly, she grins back.

  “Anything else I should know, as your tutor, I mean.”

  I wonder what happened between now and the last time I saw her on the field. “Is that why you’re being nice to me, now? Because you work for me, now?”

  “To be precise, I work for your personal assistant, Jeff. But it’s not why I’m being nice. I took a pregnancy test.”

  Holy fuck. I sit down and ready myself for fatherhood.

  “No, no. Jeesh. Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. The test was negative but it made me realize I don’t hate you. When I thought about it, other than being completely freaked, I wouldn’t mind being friends with you so… I mean… I know we’re completely different and you’re not looking for a girlfriend and-”

  “Kira.” I try to barge in but like the Ever-Ready Bunny, she keeps going and going.

  “I know we agreed it would be one and done. I totally agree but I don’t see why that means we-”

  “Kira, stop.” I take her hand.

  “Still, I mean. What if I had gotten pregnant and you were the father, I mean we’d have to be friends and-”

  I kiss her quiet, then put my hand over her mouth. “You never let me finish.”

  “You said you couldn’t be friends with me.”

  “I was going to add, because the sex was so mind-blowing. But, just like now, you didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

  “Oh.” Her cute little mouth drops into a frown then turns up into a smile. “Really?”

  Fuck me, I am so fucked. My cock, however, is a happy camper which is why I ask the next question. “Did you break it off with Derriere?”

  She snickers. “Derrick? Yes. I told him we were through.”

  “Good.” Before I kiss her again or do anything else equally stupid. I back up and out the door. “Hope you feel better, I need to turn in. Early practice.”

  “Yeah. Thanks again. See you at class.”

  Chapter 4

  Kira

  Oh my God! Ryan leaves, I move the books piled high on the couch, and flop down. I will never forget the night we made love, the amazing orgasm and how he made me feel so beautiful.

  After the best evening of my life, I had asked, “Can we still be friends?”

  His no resounded like thunder. I dressed and ran out of the room, ignoring how he tried to call me back. I was well-aware of his one-fuck rule and I thought I was sophisticated enough to handle it.

  I was wrong.

  He thought our sex was mind-blowing? I can’t stop smiling. Mind-blowing doesn’t begin to describe our chemistry. It’s more like heart stopping or life altering. Damn, whatever it was that night, it was fucking wonderful.

  Back in the bathroom, I pause, glad Montezuma’s revenge has passed. In the garbage, the plastic stick with NOT-PREGNANT in pink letters reminds me of my close call. I make a mental note to call a GYN in the morning. No more relying on condoms which can break. I need to get through college and preferably be married before I even consider kids.

  Still, the thought of a baby boy with hazel eyes and a thatch of unruly dark hair has my hormones pumping. Someday, just not yet.

  Less nauseous, I download my Modern Social Media book and read until late. When my Kindle drops to the floor, I wake with a start, and the weird dream lingers until morning. In it, my ex-boyfriend broke into my apartment while me and Ryan were naked.

  It doesn’t take Sigmund Freud to figure out I got some boyfriend issues to work out. Rising, I turn off my alarm and walk out to the kitchen. There, I grab a mug, find a pot of coffee and pour.

  One of my apartment-mates, Gillian, lifts her thick brown lashes and gazes up from her textbook with a warm smile. “Hey, feeling better?”

  “Yeah, thanks for getting me my journalism homework.” I grab a jug of milk in the fridge, sniff, and pour.

  “Uh huh. Mostly, the professor talked about our final project. We need to choose a topic by the end of next week. He said to find some meaningful social injustice crap. It’s worth seventy-five percent of our grade.”

  “Holy shit.” I sip on the blessed brew, letting the caffeine do its magic while she looks up from her reading.

  “You could do it on ex-coach Bradley. I mean, you already have a head start.”

  I promised the lawyers I’d let it go. “Probably not. My parents were furious. It cost them a fortune to make him drop the lawsuit.”

  She tsk-tsks. “That was so unfair. Everyone knows he was guilty as sin. You had all the facts. He so fondled all those girls.”

  “I agree. The college must too, bec
ause they fired his ass.”

  “But he’s still working in a college, right? Who’s to say he won’t start up again?” Gillian and Star have hashed this out with me but there’s nothing I can do. At least, the coach’s behavior is public. I can only hope other women will heed what I said and beware.

  “Next time, I won’t play my hand so soon.” I pour a bowl of corn flakes into a bowl, slice a banana, and add milk.

  As I shovel in my breakfast, I go over my schedule. Sadly, I won’t see Ryan until tomorrow, unless I see him working out after classes, during band practice.

  Gillian narrows her gaze, the way she does when a thought hits her. “Was that Ryan I heard last night?”

  “Yeah. He sits next to me in public speaking and brought me my homework.” Hoping to hide my red, heated face, I jump up and wash out my bowl.

  “Wait a minute. No way. What about the big fight on Instagram?” She holds up her phone and plays his limericks followed by my embarrassing outburst.

  “Please. Don’t. I was there, remember? We ah… called a truce. I agreed to be his tutor.”

  She glances down at her book, “Just be careful, Kir. He’s a heartbreaker.”

  “I know, I know. We’re just friends.” Or are we? Mind-blowing sex. Is that still in friend territory?

  “Hmmm. Right. You do know he’s applied for early draft.”

  Star, yawing, comes into the kitchen, and pours coffee into her giant pink mug. “What friends we talking about?”

  “Ryan Finnegan.” Gillian raises her brows at the empty coffee carafe.

  “Make more, please.”

  I grin at their ongoing territorial wars. Usually they fight over who ate and drank whose food. It doesn’t matter because we all put money into a pot but these two always think something is unequal.

  “I got this, Star. You eat.” I pour some more coffee into the filter and add water.

  Star yawns again and with slits for eyes, grabs a bowl. “Thanks… Almost the whole team applied for early draft but only Jackson and Ryan got in this year.”

  Gillian shakes her head. “You two are crazy if you think you’ll end up married to an NFL player. Chances are slim to none and you’ll have wasted away your senior year, pining away for guys who’re so busy they can’t give you the time of day, let alone, sex.”

  “Hey. Me and Ryan? Friends.” I poke my thumbs at my chest.

  Gillian grunts and focuses back on her book but Star sticks out her tongue.

  I roll my eyes and mouth out, ‘Be nice.’

  After, I check the time. “Shit, I need to get dressed. See you later.”

  What with trying to catch up on homework and hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryan on campus, the day drags by. In the afternoon, I meet up with Star in the locker room. Her nose and eyes are red from crying.

  “What’s wrong?” I hold her hand as she tries to turn away from me.

  “Nothing.”

  When she sits on a bench and nods, I join her and hand her a tissue. “Is it Jackson? Did he break up with you?”

  “Kind of. Oh, I don’t know. You can’t tell anyone. Swear it?”

  “I won’t, I swear.”

  “It is Jackson but it’s not what you think. He’s gambling online. That’s why I was there so late last night. I was trying to get him to stop. Oh my God, he’s in sooo deep. You have no idea.”

  “Does Ryan know?”

  She shakes her head back and forth. “I don’t think he’s told anyone. I found out by accident.”

  “Shit.”

  “Right? If anyone finds out, he’s totally fucked.”

  “He needs to let someone know. If he won’t, you need to do it for him.” I take her in my arms and give her a big hug. “You can do this, Star.”

  She sniffs and ties her sneakers. “Yeah, I guess… You going to the party tonight? I heard the whole team is going.”

  At the thought of seeing Ryan, the lady lips between my legs twitch. “I thought those guys were heads down until the first game. No parties, no nothing.”

  “For sure, they have an early curfew. Best to get there early if you want to see Ryan.”

  “You going?”

  She shakes her head, no. “I can’t bear to see Jackson, not like this.”

  The whistle blows in the field, she grabs her marching drum, and me, my bells. Then, we run out onto the field.

  Chapter 5

  Ryan

  In the bottom floor of my dorm, I lean against the wall facing the entrance. Thursday is the new Friday, or so I’ve been told. Officially, I’m studying in my room but sometimes a guy needs a break. I’ve been busting my ass since August. Even off hours involve a couple hours of laps in the pool. Despite all the excuses going on in my head, I shouldn’t’ve come. I blame Jackson. He’s the one who convinced me and now, he’s nowhere to be found.

  I grab a bottle of Gatorade to bring back to my room and ignore the beer. My alarm goes off at six and I need to be sharp for training. On the way to the elevator, I catch a glimpse of bright hair and turn.

  Unfucking believable. Kira McKenzie has on the same white top she wore the day we met. My cock stirs, remembering the afternoon my pals tried to save me. I was taking a break from females and she got too close. So, they went by our playbook and pushed her into the pool. Karma is cruel. Lightning struck, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get her out of my head.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I thought for sure, after we fucked, it would end my attraction, cure the itch. Since then, I craved her as if my last breath depended on her smile.

  However, I can’t be with her, not if I want to make it into the NFL. She’s too damn distracting.

  The gorgeous enchantress waves at me and saunters into the room. Below her bare midriff, a flouncy skirt dances around her thighs. She catches me checking her out and strides across the room with her long fingers outstretched.

  “Hi.” I grab her hand and lean in for a taste of her sweet lips but she’s too fast, so I catch a cheek.

  So, that’s how she wants it?

  “I didn’t think I’d see you here.” Playing it cool, I step back and tear my gaze away from eyes that could send a man to heaven or take him straight to hell.

  “Ah, yea. Star insisted but I have a test tomorrow. I can’t stay long.” She bites her lower lip and searches the crowd for her friend.

  Suddenly, more than anything, I want the beauty to stay at my side.

  “Can I get you something? I wouldn’t want you to fall in… Too soon?” I point toward the chest of iced drinks. Holding my breath, I pray for her to laugh and she belts out a hearty one.

  “No, not too soon. We’re good. And yes, water would be fine.” Those pretty eyes lift to mine and I recall our off-the-charts sex.

  Damn, I need to get her back into my bed. I jog to the makeshift bar, grab a water, and return with our drinks.

  Without warning, she twists off the cap and it fizzes all over the place, and leaves a wet mark over the lump behind my fly.

  “Shit, sorry.” She giggles until she glances down at my hardon and her eyes go wide.

  If it was any other coed, I would’ve accused her of doing it on purpose but not Kira. A blush as bright as her hair, gives her away. She’s so damn cute I swell under her stare.

  For a guy who’s supposed to have fast reflexes, I’m speechless.

  “You come here often?” She smirks in the awkward silence and I grin back, thankful for her quick save.

  “No, you?”

  “Heard the drinks are good.” Her plastic bottle touches mine, our fingers touch, and electricity sparks between us.

  “Want to find a quiet place to talk?” My brain screams, What the fuck is wrong with you, bro?

  My junk, wet from her seltzer, throbs for another kind of liquid; thick, warm and sweet.

  Her lips move but her voice is lost in blasting music.

  I’m pretty sure she said yes. I need to get her alone and fast. Shit, I should’ve planned this better. Horny
as a freshman about to get laid for the first time, I take her hand, then stop when my teammate Quest dashes across the room.

  Fuck it all to hell. He slips between partygoers as if they were defensive lineman and him, inches from the goal line.

  Mouth grim and out of breath, he stops in front of us. “It’s Jackson. Come quick. Some guys are about to beat the shit out of him.”

  I turn to Kira. “Wait here for me?”

  “Of course. Go.”

  On the way out, we grab Russ, the biggest of my teammates.

  “What’s up?” Matt joins us at the door.

  “C’mon.” Quest points beyond the trees, behind the parking lot, and to the left.

  Fastest of us three, I size up the situation. Knees bent, hands out, three snarling guys circle Jackson.

  “Stop,” I hold out my arms, preventing Quest and Matt from crashing Jackson’s party. “Watch and learn. He’s just toying with them.”

  Matt pushes my arms down and walks toward the fight. “You crazy? One’s got a knife.”

  “Suit yourselves.” Chuckling, I wait.

  Jackson whips out a foot with blinding speed and the knife-holder falls to the pavement, screaming. From the angle of the damaged leg, I think knee surgery is in the attacker’s future. A second assailant gets a smashing back fist which sends him into the third. While they’re off balance, Jackson kicks their legs out from under them. A couple quick punches to their heads and both are out cold. I step in and put a hand on Jackson’s arm, pushing him toward Matt.

  “Take him to the dorm quick and don’t talk to anyone. I’ll be there in a minute.” I squat near the one holding his knee, moaning. “What the fuck you doing here?”

  “None of your God damn business but tell your friend, this isn’t over.”

  Shit, a campus security car turns into the lot and I can’t be seen here. Needing a solid alibi, I dash back to the party to the corner where I left Kira.

  Fuck, now where’d she get to? I catch the arm of a pretty blond flag-bearer I once bedded. “Have you seen Kira? Redhead? Plays glockenspiel?”