Tackled: A Sports Romance Read online

  "You sure he went up there?" I yell.

  "Yeah, a few minutes ago. Just saw him."

  "Thanks." I wade through people to get to the stairs, my thoughts racing. The irony of Colton getting so pissed off at me about my thesis when he was apparently revealing intimate details about our sex life isn't lost on me. I'm furious.

  I knock once before turning the knob on his bedroom door and flinging it open.

  Standing in the middle of the room is a woman in a beach towel with her back to me. When I open the door, she speaks. "I thought you were never going to get here," she says. "I'm ready for that massive cock of yours."

  She spins around and drops the towel.

  She's stark naked, all big perky tits and freshly waxed hoo-hah and long legs.

  "You're not Colton," she says stupidly.

  "No shit," I say. I'm so angry I think my head might actually explode. "Wrong room. Tell Colton I said hi, though."

  "Sure!" she says brightly. "But I don't know your name."

  "Just tell him his former tutor stopped by to wish him luck," I say bitterly.

  "Oh, wow, you get to tutor Colton King? And you make house calls!" she adds enviously.

  "Not anymore."

  41

  Colton

  I swear to God I'm hallucinating.

  I was almost sure I saw Cassie here, but I looked up where I thought she was standing and she was gone.

  I've had too much beer.

  This is not the place I want to be tonight, especially after I sat there for the last hour in a lawn chair reading Cassie's thesis. I understood about half of it, but my mom was right. There wasn't anything in there about me or the team. It was all just past studies.

  She still avoided telling me about it for months. Who knows what else she's hiding?

  The thoughts pop into my head and I banish them. I need to go to her and tell her I overreacted.

  She loves you.

  She's in love with you.

  I don't know if I'm in love with her. I don't know if I can love someone. I don't know what the hell it feels like.

  Fuck it. I don't know what I'm going to say or what I even think. I just know that I need to see her.

  I push my way through the crowd, stopping only when I see Tank and Sable. "Is Cassie with you?"

  Sable shakes her head. "She said she was leaving."

  "Is she upset?"

  Sable nods. "She wasn't happy when she left," she yells. "We were trying to find you."

  "Is she at your place? I need to talk to her."

  Sable nods and points toward the front door. "Go, go, go."

  I run up to my bedroom to grab my wallet. I'm too lit to drive. I'll walk. I take the stairs two at a time, flinging the door open and –

  There's a naked girl sitting on my bed.

  Once upon a time, that would have been a gift from the universe. Now, I exhale heavily, annoyed with the fact that getting rid of her is going to slow me down here. "Why are you in my room?"

  I reach into my bottom desk drawer and pull out my wallet.

  "One of your teammates sent me here," she says. "Said you were in… need. And coincidentally, so am I."

  I narrow my eyes at her. None of my roommates would have sent a naked girl up to my room. "Who sent you up here?" I ask. "Did you take anything from this room?"

  She cocks her head to the side and looks at me stupidly. "Where would I hide it?"

  "Good point," I say. "The guy who sent you here. Name?"

  She shrugs. "Big guy."

  That describes most of the football team.

  "Helpful," I grunt.

  "If I'd have known you'd need a name, I'd have gotten it. Frankly, I'm slightly offended that you're still wearing clothes."

  I reach down to the floor and toss the rumpled beach towel at her. "I'm offended that your bare ass is on my bed."

  "I can put it on your face instead," she suggests. "Oh. Almost forgot. I did have a message for you."

  "From who?"

  "I don't know," she says, shrugging. "A girl came in here fifteen minutes ago. She said to tell you that your former tutor stopped by to wish you luck."

  I cross the space between us. "What exactly did she say?"

  "That's what she said," the girl says. "Exact words. She came by to wish you luck. I mean, that's dedication, stopping by on a Saturday night to wish a student luck, but –"

  I stop her from talking. "And you were… like this… when she came by?"

  "Well, I had the towel on and then I twirled around to surprise you," she says. "But it wasn't you."

  "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

  "Ooh, yeah," she agrees. "I'm down for a little dirty talk."

  "Get the hell out of my room," I bellow, my voice loud even with the music downstairs.

  "Are you joking?"

  "Get out. Now."

  She huffs as she climbs off the bed. "You're going to turn this down?" she asks. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "Out."

  Outside the house, Dillon stands by the front door smoking a cigarette. "Tough break about your tutor," he mutters.

  "You sent that chick up to my room?"

  He shrugs. "Thought you might need some consoling. The tutor was really upset to hear the things you'd been saying about her."

  I don't think. I rush him, driving my head into him with enough force that he slams back up against the side of the house, landing a fist on the side of his head. He gets enough space between us to hit me, and I reel backwards from the unexpected blow. Then he rushes me and we're on the ground, and people outside are chanting. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

  I lose my shit. When I pin him to the ground, I punch him – I don't know how many times – until Tank and Emmett grab my arms and literally drag me away from him.

  Tank blocks my view of Dillon. "Jesus, Colt, you want to fucking kill him?"

  "Are you really asking me that question?" I yell. "Because the answer is yes."

  "Get a hold of yourself," Tank warns. "I know you're mad at Cassie, but you can't just kick the shit out of everyone in your way. Do you even want to play this fall? You know Coach's rules – you're fighting, you're done."

  "Fuck!" I scream at the top of my lungs, running my hands through my hair. I think I'm crawling out of my damn skin right now, hopped up on anger and adrenaline. I don't want to explain to Tank what Dillon did, not right now. "Get away from me."

  I push against Tank's chest.

  "If I let you go, are you going to just go over there and beat on him?" Tank asks, talking to me like he'd speak to a small child.

  "I'm getting out of here," I grumble.

  "You should do that," Tank says.

  I storm across the front yard without a second glance behind me. I don't care if Dillon lives or dies.

  The only thing I care about right now is seeing her.

  She's got to hate me right now.

  I don't want to imagine what the hell Dillon made her think I was saying. Or the look on her face when she walked into my room and saw the naked girl.

  She thinks I'm scum. I know she does.

  When I get to Cassie's apartment, I pause at the door. I didn't plan what to say. I have no idea what to say. Anything I say is going to sound like I’m trying to explain away my guilt.

  I knock on the door and wait. She doesn't answer.

  I do it again. No answer.

  Fuck, she's probably not home. Or she's inside wishing I'll just go away. I briefly consider kicking the door down.

  I knock again.

  The deadbolt turns and Cassie pulls the door open, just a few inches. I push gently against it, but she puts her foot behind it to stop it from opening further.

  "I need to talk to you," I insist.

  "I only came out here to tell you that if you pound on my door one more time, I'm going to call the cops."

  "Cassie. You need to listen to me, just for five minutes."

  "I don't need to do anything, Mr. King," she says coolly.