Fraternize by Rachel Van Dyken

2017

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Author:	Rachel Van Dyken
Genre:	Contemporary Romance
File Name:	fraternize-by-rachel-van-dyken.epub
Original Title:	Fraternize (Players Game Book 1)
Creator:	Rachel Van Dyken
Language:	en
Identifier:	MOBI-ASIN:B01N5WCHSG
Publisher:	Skyscape
Date:	1505145600
File Size:	674292.736

Emerson just made her dream come true as a professional cheerleader for her favorite pro football team. But even though the plus-size athlete is breaking down boundaries, she still has to contend with the massive rulebook. Carbs? Nope. Chocolate? Definitely not. Still, Emerson loves her curves, and she’ll rock the hell out of this job even if it kills her. Except for one mandate that is easier read than done…

No fraternizing with the players.

Problem one is Miller Quinton: Emerson’s first love, first sex, and the guy who still ignites her daydreams and R-rated fantasies. Thrown back together, Miller and Emerson feel the undeniable pull of passion again, even if the conflict that tore them apart seems insurmountable. Then there’s way-too-sexy Grant Sanchez. He has a serious reputation with the ladies, and when it comes to winning someone he wants, he doesn’t let anyone stand in his way.

Now Emerson is breaking every rule in the manual. But what she doesn’t know is that she’s part of a wicked little game—one that could steal both her dream and her heart.

Table of Content

1. PRAISE FOR RACHEL VAN DYKEN “The Consequence of Loving Colton is a must-read friends-to-lovers story that’s as passionate and sexy as it is hilarious!” —Melissa Foster, New York Times bestselling author “Just when you think Van Dyken can’t possibly get any better, she goes and delivers The Consequence of Loving Colton. Full of longing and breathless moments, this is what romance is about.” —Lauren Layne, USA Today bestselling author “The tension between Milo and Colton made this story impossible to put down. Quick, sexy, witty—easily one of my favorite books from Rachel Van Dyken.” —R.S. Grey, USA Today bestselling author “Hot, funny . . . will leave you wishing you could get marked by one of the immortals!” —Molly McAdams, New York Times bestselling author, on The Dark Ones “Laugh-out-loud fun! Rachel Van Dyken is on my auto-buy list.” —Jill Shalvis, New York Times bestselling author, on The Wager “The Dare is a laugh-out-loud read that I could not put down. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
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3. ALSO BY #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR RACHEL VAN DYKEN The Consequence Series The Consequence of Loving Colton The Consequence of Revenge The Consequence of Seduction The Consequence of Rejection The Wingmen Inc. Series The Matchmaker’s Playbook The Matchmaker’s Replacement Curious Liaisons Series Cheater Cheater’s Regret The Bet Series The Bet The Wager The Dare The Ruin Series Ruin Toxic Fearless Shame The Eagle Elite Series Elite Elect Enamor Entice Elicit Bang Bang Enforce Ember Elude Empire The Seaside Series Tear Pull Shatter Forever Fall Eternal Strung Capture The Renwick House Series The Ugly Duckling Debutante The Seduction of Sebastian St. James The Redemption of Lord Rawlings An Unlikely Alliance The Devil Duke Takes a Bride The London Fairy Tale Series Upon A Midnight Dream Whispered Music The Wolf’s Pursuit When Ash Falls The Seasons of Paleo Series Savage Winter Feral Spring The Wallflower Series (with Leah Sanders) Waltzing with the Wallflower Beguiling Bridget Ta
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5. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Text copyright © 2017 by Rachel Van Dyken All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Skyscape, New York www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Skyscape are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781477809204 ISBN-10: 1477809201 Cover design by Shasti O’Leary Soudant Cover photography by Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign.com
6. To all the women out there: own your awesome, hold your heads high, and remember how fearfully and wonderfully made YOU are. Grandma always said all you need is a bright lip and heels and you could take over the world. Well, what do you say? #runtheworld
7. Contents Prologue EMERSON Chapter One EMERSON Chapter Two EMERSON Chapter Three MILLER Chapter Four EMERSON Chapter Five MILLER Chapter Six EMERSON Chapter Seven MILLER Chapter Eight EMERSON Chapter Nine EMERSON Chapter Ten MILLER Chapter Eleven EMERSON Chapter Twelve MILLER Chapter Thirteen EMERSON Chapter Fourteen MILLER Chapter Fifteen EMERSON Chapter Sixteen MILLER Chapter Seventeen MILLER Chapter Eighteen EMERSON Chapter Nineteen MILLER Chapter Twenty EMERSON Chapter Twenty-One MILLER Chapter Twenty-Two EMERSON Chapter Twenty-Three MILLER Chapter Twenty-Four EMERSON Chapter Twenty-Five MILLER Chapter Twenty-Six EMERSON Chapter Twenty-Seven MILLER Chapter Twenty-Eight EMERSON Chapter Twenty-Nine MILLER Chapter Thirty EMERSON Chapter Thirty-One EMERSON Chapter Thirty-Two MILLER Chapter Thirty-Three EMERSON Chapter Thirty-Four SANCHEZ Chapter Thirty-Five MILLER Chapter Thirty-Six SANCHEZ Chapter Thirty-Seven EMERSON Chapter Thirty-Eight MILLER Chapter Thirty-Nine EMERSON Chapter Fort
8. Prologue EMERSON Bellevue High School—2007 Senior Year The Big Game 6:30 p.m. “Emerson!” Miller slammed his hands against the locker room door at least ten times before he stopped and then started again; this time it sounded like he was using his cleats. “I know you’re in there!” “Emerson!” Miller yelled again. “I will break down this door!” “Just go away!” “No!” “You’re a pain in my ass!” “Well, you have a nice ass,” he said, humor lacing his tone. I smiled. “You’re smiling, aren’t you?” he said in a silky voice. I snorted and tried to wipe the hot tears from my cheeks. “Don’t fight it. You love me.” “I hate you.” I was full-on grinning as I stood and shuffled over to unlock the door. Miller shoved it open. “You should be warming up with the team,” I whispered. “Whatever will our school do without its hero?” “You tell me. You’re the one who’s hiding out in the locker room because you let some skinny bitch get to you.” I sighed. “Maybe next time I’ll give her a cookie.” As he towered o
9. Chapter One EMERSON Present Day Sleep didn’t come. But the memories did. So while most girls were probably well rested and ready to make the squad, I was stuck with the Ghost of Christmas Past. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror of my crappy car and willed away the dark circles under my eyes. I had to make the squad. I had to. It was my last shot. Professional cheerleaders didn’t get paid much of anything, and with as much time as I spent trying to become one, I was at a crossroads. I just didn’t want to give up, I couldn’t. My mom had been a professional cheerleader before she died, and I still had her picture under my pillow, the edges torn, the colors faded. Growing up without her had been painful. Not because I remembered much about her, I was too young when she was taken from us. No, it had been hard because my dad hadn’t quite got why I was bullied. To him I was perfect. He never saw the flaws everyone else seemed to, and when I grew boobs and hips, and all the other
10. Chapter Two EMERSON (Then) A Week Later I held his hand as tight as I could. It didn’t take away the pain. Nothing would. Pulmonary embolism. His mother died instantly. I watched my best friend fall apart that day, and I wasn’t so sure I would ever have my Miller back. The funeral sucked. The pastor tried to make everyone feel better by talking about heaven. It was not what Miller needed to hear. Because, besides me, his mom had been his best friend, his greatest cheerleader. His Navy dad was hardly home. They were the dynamic duo, as Miller usually called them. And now? Now he just had me. The shoes were too big to fill. The task too daunting to even think about. Encouraging words fell on deaf ears as both Miller and I placed a rose on the casket and walked out into the parking lot. “Let’s get drunk,” he announced once we were back in his truck. I nodded. “Alright.” His gaze sharpened in on me. “Seriously?” Shrugging, I put on my sunglasses so he wouldn’t see my puffy eyes. “I think i
11. Chapter Three MILLER (Then) Three Days Later Houma, Louisiana “I hope you wore a condom” was the first sentence my asshole dad muttered to me once I walked into the plain two-bedroom house on base, after the longest car ride of my life, during which he basically ignored me. I thought at least after the distraction of moving our shit, he’d acknowledge me. Not the case. “Good to see you too,” I grumbled, tossing my duffel bag onto the couch and sitting. I already missed her so much. Em always said what was on her mind. She’d have given my dad an earful, and it wouldn’t have been the first time either. Right after the funeral, she’d marched up to him and told him that he was ruining my life. I think I fell a little more in love with her that day, if that was even possible. “Now listen here.” Dad’s Southern drawl was thick and irritating as hell. I wondered if he’d been drinking. Seemed like he hadn’t stopped since the funeral. And he was only too happy to relocate. Like Mom meant nothing
12. Chapter Four EMERSON Present Day My lungs burned as I pumped my legs harder, faster. The tempo of the music was relentless, and my head pounded from the exertion. “And five, six, seven, eight!” Coach called from the front. “Dip, step, clap, clap—Mary, I saw that. Keep your fingers pointed! And sway right, left—Mary! I said keep your fingers pointed! No sloppy hands!” I gritted my teeth and finished the routine flawlessly. Not that it ever mattered. I’d finished routines flawlessly all throughout college, and even now, two years later. And I’d still gotten cut. It didn’t mean I’d stopped trying; if anything, it had just pushed me harder. The worst part about trying out for professional cheerleading was the diet restrictions given to the girls, even the girls not yet on the squad. The team dietician often pulled me over and asked why I wasn’t following the list of approved foods. When I told her I was . . . I’d been accused of lying. And bless your little heart, her voice had crooned. Th
13. Chapter Five MILLER “That hurts!” I roared, slamming my hands down on the therapist’s table. “Are you trying to kill me? Maim me? Show me how strong you are? Damn it! Stop punishing me!” Wendy’s eyes were steel. Just like her hands. She didn’t budge, but continued to roll out my IT band like she was trying to snap the thing in half. “Breathe.” She pushed harder. I clenched my teeth and tried not to pass out. “I’m trying!” “You’re tense.” Her soft voice was the reason I’d always loved working with her. She was four foot ten and ninety pounds of absolute terror. The first time she offered to work on me, I’d laughed at her. And left with a slight limp and four ibuprofen. She claimed her family came from a long line of ninjas, and since she’d been working for the Pittsburgh Pilots, we all believed her. Even our quarterback gave her a wide berth. “Almost done,” Wendy soothed, patting my leg one more time before digging in with her elbow. Sweat poured down my face as I closed my eyes and tri
14. Chapter Six EMERSON My perfectly rounded nails dug into my palms. I crossed my legs then uncrossed them at least a dozen times before the door opened. Coach Kay strutted in and sat behind a large black desk littered with pictures of athletes, friends, and folks who I assumed were family members. Awards decorated her white walls. I was really close to being sick to my stomach when she finally spoke. “You know why you’ve been asked here.” It wasn’t a question. Was it? I quickly nodded my head and spoke. “I believe you’re looking for a new replacement.” “Yes.” Silence stretched between us while her eyes narrowed in on me and very slowly inched down my body. She started at my head until she stood up and leaned over the desk, her gaze never wavering as she inspected me all the way down to my pink-and-black Nike tennis shoes. “Hmm.” It wasn’t a good hmm. Not like Hmm, that’s cute or Hmm, that’s different. It was more of a hmm that meant it wouldn’t work at all. I’d been on the wrong side of
15. Chapter Seven MILLER I hated planes. They reminded me of leaving. Which in turn reminded me of being left behind. I always envisioned myself as the one being abandoned. And any sort of travel always reminded me that I basically had been. I pulled my bag of shit over my right shoulder and took in the expansive practice facility. It was nice. Nicer than what I’d come from. Probably because the Bucks bled money, and it showed, from the pristine practice facility to the stadium for games next door. They had lap pools, Jacuzzis, steam rooms, and ice baths. It was like a freaking spa in the locker room. I’d done a double take when I saw my new jersey, my hand trembling when I tugged at the black and white mesh. For so many years it had been my dream to be a Buck. Now? It was a waking nightmare. (Then) “You think that was a tackle!” Em yelled. “Come on!” She jumped up to her feet and screamed until she was hoarse, while I sipped on our shared soda and watched with rapt fascination. “What?” Sh
16. Chapter Eight EMERSON The cheerleading manual had been brutally . . . honest about what they expected. They didn’t come out and ask the members of the squad to diet, but it was strongly suggested they stay away from anything that could potentially attach itself to the thighs by way of fat. No sugar. No soda. No fruit! How was fruit bad? What had fruit ever done to a human other than hydrate? By the time I’d finished the first two pages, I was ready to be sick. Surprise weigh-ins throughout the season? What was this, Weight Watchers? Hell? Both? Coach Kay had said nothing about any of this, which meant only one thing. She was either setting me up to fail, or she thought I could handle it. All talking ceased the minute I walked out onto the field to practice with the other girls. When I dropped my bag to the ground and started stretching, a few girls eyed me, the bag, and then me again, and started whispering. One brave one marched over and sat down. “Hey.” “Hey.” I swallowed my nervousn
17. Chapter Nine EMERSON “Are you sure this is okay?” I glanced around the empty locker room and shivered. My body ached in all the wrong places, places I didn’t even know existed. Practice had ended a half hour ago, and even though I’d rolled out my muscles and nearly cried from the impact of the foam roller, I still hurt. “Sure.” Kinsey shrugged. “I use it all the time. Just make sure to lock up when you’re done. It’s one of the perks of being a Bucks Girl.” She dumped the last bag of ice in the tub and pointed. “Ten minutes, no complaining. No tears. Buck up, Bucks Girl.” I shivered. “I hate ice baths.” “Everyone hates ice baths, psycho.” She patted me on the back and then gave me a friendly shove toward the tin tub. “Keep your sports bra and underwear on just in case one of the night janitors walks by or, you know, a player.” I glared. “A football player?” “No worries. It’s preseason, and practice is at the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow. It’s too late for them to be out, the big babies.”
18. Chapter Ten MILLER Sanchez was waiting for me in the parking lot with the dopiest smile I had ever seen on any human’s face. “Why do you always look like you’re high?” I asked, once I got out of my Mercedes and grabbed my duffel from the trunk. “High on life, my man.” He shrugged, the grin back full force. “I just had a good night. Can’t a man smile about a good night?” “I don’t want to know.” His reputation was legendary. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if the little shit took home four cheerleaders last night and let them take turns doing cartwheels on his dick. “I wouldn’t tell you anyway.” He grabbed his bag and walked with me toward the practice facility. “You ever been in a relationship?” I stopped walking. “Miller?” “We’re not friends.” “Why the fuck do people keep rejecting my friendship? First Curves and now you. Damn, it’s like some sick joke.” “Curves?” “Hottest cheerleader ever. Rejected me. Twice. But I did get in a nice kiss. Then again, she was trapped. Never mind.” “You
19. Chapter Eleven EMERSON Just like that, I remembered. All it took was one lingering look from the guy who broke my heart, and it was there. All of it. I fought to keep the tears in. I failed. (Then) “You have to let go, boo.” “What did I tell you about using that word?” I sobbed against his chest and refused to untangle my arms from his body. “A lot of things that I can’t really remember, since all my focus is on the fact that I totally saw you naked.” “More than once.” “Twice. I counted.” Miller’s smug response had my face burning red all the way to the tips of my ears. “Thank God, you can count that high,” I countered. Miller kissed the top of my head. “Hey, I get good grades. I’m smart and shit.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me and finally, finally pried myself free. His clear gaze was locked onto me. “Don’t go,” I begged. “Trust me.” Voice gruff, he brushed a kiss across my mouth. “The last thing I want to do is leave my partner behind.” “This sucks.” I huffed, wipin
20. Chapter Twelve MILLER I wasn’t sure how long I’d stared at the blank wall. The paint was a muted tan that only seemed to remind me of my own emptiness—and of the need to fill the wall with something that felt like home. I’d never put up pictures. It had seemed pointless. The only ones that had ever meant anything to me were of Emerson and my mom. My dad only wanted me for my money and, ever since my mom’s death, had found most of his answers at the bottom of a bottle. Unpacked boxes littered the apartment. I’d taken the first available penthouse apartment in Bellevue, with hopes that the security would be enough to give me privacy. And if I was being completely honest, it was also far enough away from my childhood home, from her, from the McDonald’s we used to go to, from the high school we’d both attended. I sure as hell shouldn’t let my brain go there but it did, and just like that one of my last memories with Em pushed through the surface, begging to be remembered. (Then) “Eat.” I s
21. Chapter Thirteen EMERSON It was quickly turning out to be the worst morning of my life. I woke up to Sanchez hovering over me with a mirror under my nose. He was afraid I wasn’t breathing. Good to know that his first response wasn’t to call an ambulance or even feel for a pulse, but to grab a freaking bathroom mirror and shove it underneath my nostrils. Things just got worse from there. I’d been trying to do the whole protein shake thing as per the manual’s instructions, only to wake up to sausage, bacon, toast, and eggs. He’d made it all. And while that would normally be the sweetest thing ever, he refused to let me leave until I ate everything on my plate. Because, didn’t you know? Kids are starving all over the US, going hungry. Plus, he wanted me to keep my curves. Okay, so maybe that was the good part of my morning. But it quickly went to hell after I grabbed my bag and moved to the elevator. Either Miller was literally stalking us through the peephole, or I had the worst luck in
22. Chapter Fourteen MILLER I don’t know how long I drove around—a few hours, at least. Finally, I made my way back to my empty apartment, my duffel bag in one hand and an empty McDonald’s bag in the other. I could have thrown it away in the parking garage trash. But for some reason, my fingers were having a hard time parting with just one more memory that I knew would be soon forgotten. Nothing made sense. Why would Emerson and her father have to move out of their house? He’d had a really good teaching job at Shoreline College. The man had a PhD. The more I thought about it the more curious I felt. The more sick that she’d been living like that—and that maybe I’d been wrong about her. Until the elevator door opened to my penthouse, and loud music greeted me. Damn Sanchez. I went to his door first and banged my fist against the wood grain so hard I was surprised it didn’t splinter. He jerked it open and turned toward the living room. Was that an open invitation? With a curse, I dropped my
23. Chapter Fifteen EMERSON I’d said yes. But it was only out of desperation, and when Sanchez said he had a spare car, the way some people talk about having spare toothbrushes or toilet paper, I’d caved. Maybe it was because I hadn’t slept all night, between my dad having nightmares and roaming around the house asking for my mom, to the fact that when I logged in to my bank account I nearly burst into tears, who knew? I finally had my dream, but now that it was in my hands, I could see it so easily slipping away. Everything I promised my dad, everything I’d worked for, and for what? So I could put on a uniform and yell? I felt so selfish. And on top of that, I was playing with fire, the very fire that would burn me from the inside out if I even thought about stepping outside the lines. Sanchez made it clear he only wanted sex, and Miller wanted nothing to do with me. But the fact was I wanted both of them, and all it would take was a misstep on my part—or Sanchez finally getting what he w
24. Chapter Sixteen MILLER Friends stared at each other’s asses all the time. That’s at least what I told myself when I watched her hips sway back and forth, her heart-shaped ass making my mouth water, and, since nobody was looking at me . . . No harm, right? Until she turned and locked eyes with me. Because it was Em we were talking about. She knew. She could feel my stare. And maybe a part of me wanted her to turn around, wanted her to see the look on my face, the hunger I still had despite my anger toward her. “Yo.” Sanchez slapped me on the back. “You in?” “In,” I repeated, wracking my brain for what they could possibly be talking about. “Rookie dinner.” Jax grabbed his helmet. “We’re not as bad as some teams. It’s not like we always leave the bill for them to take care of, sometimes we help them out.” Sanchez and Thomas high fived, and then Thomas snickered. “Last year it was over seven grand.” “How do you spend that much on dinner?” I wondered out loud. “Dude, I heard New England lef
25. Chapter Seventeen MILLER The team dinner went about as good as any team dinner could go. We ordered an insane amount of alcohol—and didn’t even drink most of it since we had a grueling practice the next day, and the same went for food. All in all, the final bill was around eight grand, small by most standards for the rookie meal. Justin Ranz, our newest rookie, offensive line, took one look at it and paled. “Chill, man.” Sanchez hit him in the back. “You get your bonus in, what, a few days?” “A week.” His voice was disgusted. “Right.” Sanchez nodded. “And you got a three-million signing bonus. This is chump change.” He frowned. “Well, I mean technically, after taxes you only get, what, that would be around half, considering you’re in a whole new bracket, and then you’re going to want to buy a car, because who doesn’t need a nice vehicle to transport them in?” “Don’t forget a house,” I piped up, knowing exactly what he was doing. I’d heard of it before, the mentors making sure the rooki
26. Chapter Eighteen EMERSON Sanchez: Quick, take a picture of your panty drawer. I want to win a bet. I rolled my eyes and yawned as I swiped away from the book I was reading and started typing in messages. Me: Don’t have one. Sanchez: “Dead” Where the hell is that emoji? I couldn’t suppress my laugh. Me: How much have you had to drink? Sanchez: Clearly not enough if the thought of you not wearing panties is giving me a boner the size of Texas. I would send a picture, but I’m afraid it won’t fully fit in the screen, and that wouldn’t be fair to you. The guy was insane! Like a psychotic, wiggly hot worm that worked its way into your life and refused to let go. I relived his stupid kiss about as many times as I relived Miller’s heated look. I was in deep. And the worst part was that I didn’t remember how I ever got there. What had I done to gain Sanchez’s unwanted attention? And why was Miller so pissed at me? Especially when he seemed to think I was the one who put him on a friendship time
27. Chapter Nineteen MILLER I felt guilty. I’d slept like shit, and it showed during practice. I was caught unaware by both Xander and Elliot, two rookie defensive ends, and it was more than embarrassing when Xander took my helmet off. “Miller!” Sanchez yelled. “What gives?” I shook my head. “Nothing. Tired. No excuses.” I eyed Jax. “Can we go again?” He nodded, and I ran my route, this time blocking and turning for a catch. I was the last option—a good one—but typically my job was to make sure that Jax had enough time to get shit done. I caught it. Our offensive coach, Merill, motioned me forward. Great. I wasn’t ready to get my ass chewed out because I’d been texting Emerson for ten minutes, only to stare at my own ceiling for three hours unable to sleep because I kept imagining Sanchez kissing her. Not that he’d know that. I only had myself to blame, right? I was flirting with danger. And I couldn’t stop. I’d texted her a few more times this morning, asking her about practice and her da
28. Chapter Twenty EMERSON I had no right to be jealous. But I was. So jealous I was ready to lose my mind. I’d had too much to drink, that much I knew. Typically, I only allowed myself a maximum of two, but I’d had a third after Sanchez kept beating me at stupid Indian poker. Kinsey and Miller were talking in the corner again, and it took everything in me not to eavesdrop. He wasn’t mine. I had no claim on him. And it wasn’t fair that I wanted both him and Sanchez. What type of person did that make me anyway? Disgusted with myself, I quickly started tossing red plastic cups in the trash and cleaning up the best I could. My hands were shaking by the time I got close enough to hear them exchange phone numbers. When I looked up, they were saying good-bye to the rest of us. Were they leaving together? Was it my business? A few of Sanchez’s teammates followed them into the hall, talking loud enough to make my ears ring. Leaving just Sanchez and me. “You’re staying, right?” He came up behind me
29. Chapter Twenty-One MILLER I gripped the necklace in my fist and walked toward the locker rooms. I knew Sanchez was already there. His car was in the parking lot right along with Em’s. After last night, I didn’t know what to think. But I did know that I couldn’t go on like this, constantly lusting after her, breaking rules of friendship and every other guy code out there just because I was still in love with her. And that was the part that killed me. It twisted inside my chest until I wanted to scream. She never left me. I believed her. Which meant, had I just tried harder, had I not let my grief and anger overtake common sense, we would have been more than friends. More than these strangers who used to hang out on the weekends and binge watch movies until four a.m. We used to fall asleep under the stars; she’d shiver in my arms and promise me we’d be friends forever. It was where our friendship necklaces came in. I’d bought them as a joke. But the minute I clasped the chain around her
30. Chapter Twenty-Two EMERSON I was a nervous wreck. On top of feeling guilty about texting Miller yesterday and my heart warring with my mind over the fact that I was kissing Sanchez, we had a weigh-in. The manual said that every weigh-in would be a surprise. Thank goodness last night I hadn’t eaten anything; that was part of the eating plan for the Bucks Girls. “You’re making me nervous. Stop twitching,” Kinsey said behind me. “It’s going to be fine. The worst that can happen is you gain a few pounds, you get a warning, and they make you lose it before the next game, which just means a lot of protein shakes and dehydration. You aren’t going to get kicked off.” “Wow, only? That sounds awesome!” I said with fake enthusiasm. I knew the drill. And dehydration was basically the only way for a woman to lose weight that fast without starving herself. It would be a week and a half of broccoli and chicken with no salt, and small amounts of water. After the last failed tryout, I swore to myself I
31. Chapter Twenty-Three MILLER My fingers buzzed with a prickling sensation the rest of the day—from a damn towel. I tried to rein it in, only to lose it all over again when I went over to Sanchez’s apartment, let myself in, and saw the most gorgeous ass in the air, directly in front of the oven. It swayed back and forth as music pumped through the sound system, and the scent of cookies filled the air. I almost had a heart attack when Emerson stood, oven mitts and all, and did another little shimmy before sliding the cookie tray onto the granite countertop. “Enjoying the show?” she called over her shoulder. I froze, pissed that I felt my cheeks heating. “You knew I was watching?” “You walk loud.” “Bullshit. I’m a panther!” “Sure.” She still wasn’t looking at me. “A two-hundred-and-fifty-pound panther with size fourteen shoes. It’s amazing how you glide into the room.” With a laugh, she started fanning the cookies with her hands. “You think you float into rooms. You stomp. Trust me. I coul
32. Chapter Twenty-Four EMERSON My chest hurt. I’d been able to down a half of a cookie with a gulp of milk, and that was it. We watched Jason Bourne. I sat between two of the hottest guys on the planet while they argued over cyber terrorism and threw cookies at the TV. It was perfect. And it was hell. How was it possible to feel such conflicting emotions? Sanchez had put his arm around me and held me close, but a part of my thigh still touched Miller’s, and I knew he knew it, because every once in a while he’d shift, and the torture would start all over again. Whether it was feeling his muscled thigh through his jeans . . . Or the graze of his fingers as he handed me the blanket . . . But he stayed true to his word to be my friend; if anything, I was the one having a nervous breakdown, while he was having completely casual conversations with us while Sanchez held my hand and played with my hair. And I’d be lying if I said having Sanchez’s attention didn’t feel good. It did. He wasn’t what
33. Chapter Twenty-Five MILLER Game 1 Pilots vs. Bucks Home Turf Favored Team: Bellevue Bucks “You got us?” Jax yelled in the middle of the circle. He was talking to me. I knew it. The team knew it. The Pilots were the very first team that drafted me, but nothing could have prepared me for the brotherhood I felt with the Bucks. It was home. And I’d battle until the death. Incredible what good coaching and a hardworking team got you. I was excited to play my old team only because I knew that I was on the better team, not just because they had the money to buy good players, but because the players worked their asses off to stay the best, and didn’t quit. “You know I got you!” I yelled back. “Bucks, Bucks, Bucks, Bucks!” We chanted as Sanchez stood in the middle of the huddle, tossing his helmet in the air one last time before we ended with a cry of “Buck you!” Adrenaline pumped so hard through my system I was nearly dizzy with it as I followed my teammates onto the field. The stadium was pac
34. Chapter Twenty-Six EMERSON I’d wanted to tell Sanchez no. I was exhausted, and I knew he had to be exhausted too, and yet, he wouldn’t stop texting me about all the partying we were going to do. And with those texts, pictures of movies and food . . . The guy had enough energy and adrenaline for an entire football team, maybe that was why he was one of the captains. Watching him on the field was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I remembered all of the cheers and felt like my performance had been good, but honestly, my focus hadn’t been on the cheers or crowd pleasing. It had been on him. Sanchez. The way he commanded the field. The way he and Miller seemed to read each other’s mind. I’d always watched Miller play, even when I hated him, I’d watched. He was cold, calculating. And Sanchez . . . He was like a football professor out there—light on his feet, cracking jokes. When they’d been near our side of the field, the big screen had caught him grinning at the guy trying to block him
35. Chapter Twenty-Seven MILLER It was the postgame party—which meant I basically had to go even though I wasn’t one to party. Sanchez and Em still weren’t at the bar and I didn’t want to leave without at least saying good-bye. Right. I was that big of a loser that I was waiting to say good-bye to two people who probably couldn’t care less about the fact that I even waited in the first place. “You gonna drink that or just stare longingly into it like you want to make it your bitch, but the nice kind?” Kinsey’s voice sounded from behind me, and then her hand patted my shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, all love sucks.” “Wow, thanks,” I said with fake enthusiasm. “I really needed that pep talk after scoring my first touchdown.” She plopped down in the seat next to me and grinned. “You’re welcome.” Jax glared at me over her head. “Ah, your brother’s giving me the warning stare.” “Just stay the agreed upon five feet away from me at all times, and he won’t rip your face off.” “I can’t imag
36. Chapter Twenty-Eight EMERSON We were in bed. It wasn’t weird. It should have been weird. But ever since confessing to him about finding out I was pregnant in high school two months after Miller left, I felt—free. I’d confessed to the wrong guy—and felt better, exhausted but better. “You know . . .” Sanchez was flipping through channels on the TV, shirtless, wearing a pair of low-slung black sweats that hugged him in all the places I really shouldn’t be looking if I was going to keep my promise not to sleep with him. “What?” I yawned behind my hand and fluffed my pillow about ten times before he finally sighed and jerked it away from me, then pounded it with his giant fist, only to chuck it off the bed and pat his chest instead. I gulped. He repeated the motion. And because I was exhausted, I gave in. His body was warm against my cheek, and then I found my hand drawing circles down the rivets of his perfect abs. And somehow my legs inched themselves closer to his until I was both tangle
37. Chapter Twenty-Nine MILLER I lay in bed and imagined them watching movies like we used to. I let the memories of me and Em wash over me until I was sick with them. Because no matter how damn bad I wanted to be the guy sharing her present, I’d lost that opportunity the minute I walked away in her past. Part of me wondered if I had given up too easily because I’d been hurt. Because, deep down inside, I didn’t expect a girl that incredible to want to stay with me, and when I’d driven away from her, I’d had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t end well. Not because I didn’t love her. But because I wasn’t sure how to love her so far away, not with our relationship being so new. Not with my dad breathing down my neck about football and college scholarships. It was as if the further away I drove from her the more issues popped up, making it impossible to even see her waving figure anymore. I turned over on my back and stared up at the ceiling. Football. Winning games. Focusing on the positive. I nee
38. Chapter Thirty EMERSON My body was still buzzing from last night. I felt good, so good, until I locked eyes with Miller, and the guilt was back. Normally, other feelings accompanied it, feelings that made me feel guilty about everything going on with Sanchez, feelings that told my body that maybe I wasn’t over Miller, but the butterflies weren’t back full force and I wasn’t looking at him with longing anymore. Instead, I was feeling guilty more than anything. “Hey.” Sanchez grabbed me from behind, then twirled me in his arms and kissed the side of my neck. “Did you drink all your mimosa like a good girl?” “Every last drop.” I grinned like a lunatic. “Thanks.” He pressed another kiss to my neck and tugged me against his body. I loved the way he felt. The world faded away. All of it. It was like the more time I spent with him, the more my past disconnected, leaving me no choice but to cling to my future—to cling to him. So while the past strings were cut . . . The future strings were att
39. Chapter Thirty-One EMERSON “I’m really looking forward to you in an apron and nothing else.” Sanchez gripped me by the hips and held me close to his body as we both walked toward the locker room. “In fact, I think you should let me help you shower—just in case you have grass and dirt in places that need inspection.” “Very funny.” I shoved him away and ran. I was pissed. I liked winning. “Aw, baby.” He chased after me and then tackled me to the ground right before I ran off the field. He held his weight above me by bracing his arms on either side of my body. “I like you.” “Is that your way of apologizing for winning?” “You shouldn’t have blitzed again.” He grinned. “I read it.” “Bullshit!” I shoved his rock-hard, totally sexy chest. “I wasn’t even looking at you!” “Yeah, but I felt you.” He licked his lips. “And I know how competitive you are. You were thinking about stopping me—stopping the play—not about the actual play headed in your direction or the fact that I’d do a quarterback fa
40. Chapter Thirty-Two MILLER What a day from hell. And we still had practice that next day, which meant that we were all supposed to get along as if nothing had happened with Thomas. I got there early, hoping to talk to Sanchez, since, when he got home the night before, he’d said he just wanted to crash. But he was already suited up and on the practice field. His back was to me as I approached him. He was watching the cheerleaders practice. I didn’t blame him. “Remember that time you said that you would have never walked away? And that’s what made us different?” I stood a foot away from him, not taking my eyes off the field as I clutched my helmet in my right hand. “Yeah.” He sighed. “You’re doing it by not going after her now, by not explaining yourself.” “It’s called self-destructive behavior.” Sanchez turned to me. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I just don’t know how to make her listen, make her understand. And the sick part is that I know I don’t really deserve her.” He paused. “Ne
41. Chapter Thirty-Three EMERSON I felt his stare all through practice. I needed to talk to him and stop being that girl who just ran off without letting the guy explain. Because everything Miller said was true, and I refused to let history replay itself. I wouldn’t just ignore what my heart was saying in order to protect it from getting hurt again. So after our night practice—where I made leaps and bounds with a few of the girls on the squad by offering to help with the new routine, I drove over to Sanchez’s place. And, like a total coward, I sat in the car for a good ten minutes before I finally walked to the elevator, pressed the penthouse button, and made my way to the top. Loud music sounded from his apartment. Yelling followed. I knocked then let myself in. Players were everywhere, none of them drinking, and a lot of the party girls I’d seen over the past few weekends were hanging on them, stars and dollar signs in their eyes. Jax was in the kitchen staring at everyone like he normal
42. Chapter Thirty-Four SANCHEZ I woke up with a splitting headache. My mouth was dry as hell, and water was the only thing on my mind. When I stumbled out to the kitchen, I noticed the entire place had been cleaned up from the party. I remembered having had one drink, which led to two, and then I’d started thinking about Emerson, which meant I’d grabbed a third, fourth—Hell, when had it even stopped? I found a glass and filled it up with water to the brim, then chugged at least three glasses before I finally leaned against the countertop and tried to conjure up memories from the night before. I’d stumbled to bed. Jax had sent me there, the bastard. I’d held my phone like a freaking child, waiting for Emerson to call. Hating the weakness I had for her. Almost as much as hating how much I loved her, because it made me feel weak, helpless—two words I rarely associated myself with. I’d been in bed . . . Lily. I froze. Lily had been in my room. Lily wanted to have sex . . . I think. I’d denied
43. Chapter Thirty-Five MILLER I went to practice earlier than necessary. Mainly because I knew that once Sanchez and Em talked things out, I wouldn’t want to be within a one-mile radius of whatever the hell sort of bedroom gymnastics they were going to be a part of. I ran a few laps around the stadium and started to stretch, when some of the cheerleaders made their way onto the separate section of practice turf they typically took over either right before our practices or sometimes during. Em wasn’t there yet. For months I’d been trying not to love her, trying not to want her, and now that I knew the truth about our friendship and about the way she felt for Sanchez, it just seemed so . . . normal. The world hadn’t ended. The sky hadn’t fallen. My life wasn’t over. But the crack in my heart . . . it was still there, just not as painful since I’d talked with her, since we’d made our peace and I’d watched her walk away. But it was there. And it made me wonder if sometimes the greatest loss y
44. Chapter Thirty-Six SANCHEZ I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. I hated that guy. The one who smugly puffed out his chest like he was the shit after a banging round of sex. I clenched my fists; the leather of my gloves made a tightening noise as I rounded the corner and made my way onto the field. Em had already run the opposite direction after I’d slammed my mouth against hers in front of at least half my team. Staking my claim. Daring any of them to say shit against me for fraternizing with one of the sexiest cheerleaders I’d ever met. Mine, she was mine, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone stand in the way of that—not even Miller. I clenched my fists harder. And worried that the look on his face would break me. Because I knew that it could have easily been me, the guy whose fucking heart was split in two because he hadn’t gotten the girl. I took a deep breath and made my way toward Miller. Jax eyed me cautiously, but he didn’t tell me to stop. “So . . .” Miller didn’t ev
45. Chapter Thirty-Seven EMERSON “Wow.” Kinsey crossed her arms. “You didn’t stop smiling the entire practice, even when Coach Kay did a surprise weigh-in at the end of all that conditioning.” She paused. “Must have been . . . magical?” I scowled to try to hide my smile and failed. “It was . . .” I sighed, trying to find the words. “Unexpected.” “Whoa there.” She jogged to catch up with my stride as we made our way through the parking lot. “What do you mean unexpected? This is Grant Sanchez. One should expect greatness from that guy. I mean look at him.” Amazing timing as always. The guy was supermodel-gorgeous as he strode through the parking lot with Miller. Both of them were wearing sunglasses. Miller had a tight T-shirt on while Sanchez was wearing a leather jacket that hugged every part of his body in all the right places. And his jeans . . . Ripped in all the right places. They were probably illegal in most states, not that I cared. He was mine. Mine. “Stop sighing,” Kins whispered u
46. Chapter Thirty-Eight MILLER General Manager Jackson Mills was in Coach’s office. “Shit,” Sanchez hissed beside me. “That’s not a good sign.” “It could be nothing,” I lied. I knew it was something. You didn’t just pull in the GM for nothing. I knew we were too good to cut, so that meant they were pissed about something. “Gentlemen . . .” Jackson pointed to the chairs. “Have a seat. This won’t take long.” The man was a silver fox, could make money in his sleep, and had five kids by way of his equally attractive Southern belle of a wife. I liked him—a lot. But from far away, not up close; it felt like I was getting called into the principal’s office, only a hundred times worse. Coach eyed us both and frowned. “You two getting along alright?” “Yup.” We both answered quickly and then chuckled. “He’s the best tight end in the league.” Sanchez shrugged. “What the hell isn’t there to like?” “Oh . . .” Coach nodded. “So you’re gonna play it that way, hmm, Sanchez? How about the fact that you’re
47. Chapter Thirty-Nine EMERSON I ran to my house to grab more clothes and check on my dad. I also needed to grab my laptop so I could catch up on some schoolwork. Dad said he was doing well, but I felt guilty the minute his eyes lit up when he saw me. I’d been spending almost all of my time either at practice, working, or with Sanchez. I’d been checking in on my dad every day, but I knew it wasn’t as much as I normally did. The texts from Connie helped and Dad always texted me with updates on what he was doing, even if the texts were jumbled and didn’t make sense. I’d opened my mouth to apologize, but Dad spoke first. “I’ve been thinking.” “Oh?” I was almost out the door. “About what?” “Maybe it’s time you found your own place.” He smiled, it was one of his old smiles, the ones that he used to give me before his illness. And I wanted to cry. He was having one of his good days. Which meant he knew how old I was, and that I lived with him because I couldn’t bear for him to be on his own. “I
48. Chapter Forty SANCHEZ Game 3 Pirates vs. Bucks Home Turf Favored Team: Bellevue Bucks I needed my mind in the right place, and Em had this uncanny ability to focus me where nobody else could. She was my center, my gravity. I worked through my warm-up routine and shoved jackass Jackson’s words out of my head. Focus, focus, focus. I counted to ten. Jumped twenty times. Walked the field and listened to some Mozart—my secret, and one I knew I’d eventually confess to Em just because I didn’t want anything between us. I knelt and felt the grass between my fingers, then the dirt. I counted the distance from the fifty-yard line to the goal on both sides. And I envisioned every single catch I’d make. I thought about the Pirates’ weaknesses and how to expose them and went through every route I knew Jax would call. I was ready. A half hour later, I was walking with Jax toward the middle of the field for the coin toss. “Home team, Bucks. What’s your call?” “Tails.” Jax always called tails. The las
49. Chapter Forty-One EMERSON They won the next five straight games. And even after I was shown on the big screen, nobody asked Sanchez questions about his love life. It seemed like everything was finally settling. The only thing I hated was his away games. It’s not that I didn’t trust him; it was just that I knew what went on when guys got together. And I knew that there were plenty of girls who wanted nothing more than to seduce the crap out of someone like Sanchez. Visions of Lily always popped up then. So, I’d have Kinsey over, we’d laugh about it, and I’d shake it off. We were at Jax’s place watching the guys annihilate the Jacksonville Tigers when I had a bad feeling. I couldn’t explain it, other than when I talked to him on the phone, I’d felt like I was losing it. I just . . . I didn’t want him to play. What kind of girlfriend was I? I even texted Miller to make sure that he watched out for Sanchez. I knew the next play; Grant and I had kind of teased one another about how he knew
50. Chapter Forty-Two MILLER If I could take his place, I would. And I meant it. To see my best friend utterly destroyed . . . I would rather die. I would rather be dead. I held her tight. I made him promises I knew I would die to keep. And I prayed . . . To a God who never listened when I asked for my mom to come back. To a God who never listened when my dad turned into an alcoholic. To a God who ignored me when I cried over losing Em. You owe me, I thought angrily. And I could have sworn I heard a voice say, “Trust me.”
51. Chapter Forty-Three SANCHEZ I dreamt of her lips—they were hot, then cold against my burning skin. Each time I saw her face, I tried reaching for her but couldn’t feel anything, not even her mouth when she touched mine. It was torture. And then the dream would end and blackness would consume me again. It was either the worst nightmare ever . . . Or I was dead. I think I’d choose death over constantly dreaming of a woman I couldn’t touch, couldn’t kiss, couldn’t taste. “Grant?” her voice called to me. I opened my mouth. Parted my lips. “Grant!” The voice was stronger. God, I wanted to reach out and touch the voice. “Open your eyes.” I was trying. I felt my wrist move and then my fingers. “He’s moving!” Miller yelled. Why the hell was Miller in my dream? Stay the hell out, man! I was having a moment with my girl! Could have sworn she was going to take off her shirt. I smirked. “Why is that bastard smiling?” Miller said out loud. “Swear, if he’s faking this, I’m going to punch him in the
52. Epilogue MILLER Post-Championship Party Las Vegas Aria Penthouse 3:00 a.m. I woke up to a pounding between my eyes that felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to my nose and pounded for hours. Wincing, I tried to move and felt so nauseous that I froze. I never partied during the season. Which meant, since we’d won the championship, the guys and I along with all of our friends had decided we needed to go big. Party in Vegas! We took flights down the night after the win and had been drinking ever since. Emerson warned us. Kinsey warned us. Hey, guys, they’d said in those irritating voices. Remember, you haven’t been drinking, so you can’t drink as much and not get hungover. Yeah, that hadn’t gone over well. We drank more to prove them wrong. Though, Sanchez had stopped because he wanted to be able to perform sexually. But when he said sexually, I could have sworn he’d added in a few extra x’s and nearly stumbled into the wall. The room finally stopped spinning. I reached for the bottle
53. Acknowledgments I’m so thankful to God that I’m able to wake up every morning and live this incredible dream—my road started with being a children’s counselor to somehow writing romance and I wouldn’t change a thing. If anything, I’ve learned that the road always leads, you just have to follow it, and sometimes that’s a really scary thing. Thank you to my savior Jesus Christ for so many things that it would take years to list. My husband and Thor (the totally awesome toddler who’s more like his daddy every day—especially with that whole fruit snack situation). You are my BOYS and I love you dearly. It’s like wearing my heart on the outside of my body and then trying to protect it while said heart runs into walls and jumps off cliffs . . . I’m probably already gray, I just don’t know about it because my hair stylist keeps letting me dye my hair purple, which brings me to my hair stylist, Jake, thanks dude, for always lying to me about the true color of my hair and constantly giving me a
54. About the Author Photo © 2014 Lauren Watson Perry, Perrywinkle Photography Whether they’re Regency romance or sexy New Adult fiction, Rachel Van Dyken’s novels have appeared on national bestseller lists, including the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and USA Today. She writes—a lot—but makes sure she takes time to enjoy the finer things in life, like strong coffee, watching The Bachelor, and dreaming up hot new hunks. Rachel may get way too excited about the little things, but she loves the important things in life too—like living in Idaho with her husband, son, and two boxers. Follow her writing journey at www.RachelVanDykenAuthor.com and www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken.