Hooked by Love (Bellevue Bullies #3) Read online

  Her eyes throw daggers when she tears them away from Coach and on to me. “Yes, Jace, I wear makeup. I am a woman.”

  “No, you don’t,” Lucy says.

  “Like, ever,” Jayden adds, and his gaze cuts to Coach.

  “This is weird.” Jude shakes his head.

  “Agreed. I think I lost my appetite,” Lucy comments.

  “What’s weird, and why?” Mom asks, glaring at all of us. “We are having dinner. As a family. Don’t be silly.”

  “It is weird that you’re here, Dad,” Baylor says.

  “I mean, did you want me to come or not?” he snaps back at her, and she glares.

  “I want you here. But I’m just saying, I don’t think you are here for me,” she says. When he doesn’t say anything, everyone looks back at my mom.

  “I mean, should I just say it?” Lucy asks, holding out her hands. But I don’t think any of us really wants this confirmed, because I’m already shaking my head along with Jude.

  “No, just eat,” Jayden says, rubbing his temples as he starts to eat.

  “Be adults, guys. Come on.” Claire shakes her head with a grin on her face.

  “Shut up, Claire,” we four say at the same time.

  “What in the world are you four talking about?” Mom asks, but I look away and start to eat.

  The thought of my mom dating is gross.

  And the fact that it could be my coach makes it even grosser.

  Silence falls over the table as my stomach churns. I don’t know why, but somewhere deep inside of me, I thought maybe my parents would get back together one day. I know it’s probably insane to think. I mean, not only does my mom deserve someone a hell of a lot better than my cheating father, but also, my dad has moved on. I know my mom needs to do the same, but it’s weird.

  I don’t want to watch my mom date.

  Especially my coach.

  Ew.

  “Heels or no heels?”

  Mekena looks over at me from where she is doing her makeup and she smiles. I bet I look goofy with one sky-high black heel and a Converse on the other foot, but this is really an important question. Either shoe could go with my rolled at the ankle, tight, skinny jeans and flowy black top that hangs off me in the sexiest way. The black bralette I have on underneath covers the parts that need to be covered, but it doesn’t cover a lot. And I know it shows just enough to get guys to notice.

  Well, one guy.

  Lame Line Larry.

  Which, really…I don’t know why I care to get him to notice. But by the way he was checking me out and basically drooling, I doubt I’ll have to try hard. He wants me and that’s cool. I’m down. He is hot…but he is not part of the plan. My plan was to come here, then get an internship, do well in school, get some gigs, make some friends, and have fun. The end goal is to write a hit song and sing it for millions. That’s my plan. I guess I could put him in the fun category, but something about the way those green eyes of his held mine has me thinking he could be more than just fun.

  No. That can’t and won’t happen.

  Nowhere in that plan does it say get involved with a dude who has a great body and hot eyes.

  Nope.

  But then, sex is fun, right?

  Yes.

  So sex, yes.

  Involved, no.

  I’m a genius.

  Easy peasy.

  Letting out a breath at my internal struggle, I’m actually thankful for it. Before I came to Nashville, I didn’t care about anything but getting here. I had spent so long just trying to be okay with the fact no one wanted me, that when the opportunity to leave came, it became my only goal. I didn’t try to attract guys anymore; I didn’t consider sex with anyone. But that’s mostly because no one wanted me. Having a brother like Matty Haverbrooke really didn’t give me that option. One, everyone was obsessed with him, and two, no one wanted to even try to holler at me for fear of him killing them.

  Little did they know Matty wouldn’t have noticed or cared because I’m not a hockey stick or a frozen biscuit.

  Nope, just his twin sister.

  Nothing special.

  “What are we going for here?” Mekena’s head falls to the side as she takes me in. She looks adorable in a little sundress, her pale skin glowing from the shimmer powder she’s doused herself in. Her long, black hair is up in a puff thing that looks amazing on her but would look dumb on me since my hair is so thin. Hers is luscious and thick, and I’m jealous. I am. She’s also tiny, short and skinny and crazy smart. She’s kind of a threat but super quiet, so no one pays her any mind. I do, though, and I think she’s awesome. Must be because no one pays me any mind either, unless I have blood dripping from my wrists.

  You have to have a hockey stick and a dick to be important in the Haverbrooke household. Which really makes me wonder why I am trying to holler at this guy. He’s everything I don’t want or need right now. So why am I completely attracted to him and thinking about our interaction like mad?

  Glutton for punishment, I guess.

  But really, since the moment he walked away, I’ve been thinking about him. It’s weird. When I decided to come to school here, I didn’t want to be begging for attention from anyone. I’ve done it for too long, and I need to just do me now. But with him, I want to sing from the rooftops just so he will throw money at me. When I shot my video, the smile on my face was for him. He won’t ever see it because he doesn’t know my name, so what in the hell is wrong with me?

  I don’t want to feel all gooey inside for a guy.

  I don’t want to sing for him.

  And I sure as hell don’t want to get involved with some dude who’s probably going to break my heart.

  Dudes are trouble.

  Especially hockey players.

  And yet, as I glance at myself in the mirror, I want to be pretty.

  Jesus, I’m an idiot.

  Glancing at Mekena, I shrug. “I think I want to come off as available.”

  She nods. “Then go with the heels. But really, you could do the Converses and still look hot.”

  I smile as I kick off the heel. As much as I want to be sexy in those heels, my one foot already hurts. Putting on my other shoe, I tie it up as she asks, “Who you trying to be available for? You’ve only been here two weeks. Have you already met someone between making videos and classes?”

  I chuckle as I glance over at her, my hair falling into my face. “I don’t know his name. He threw some money into my guitar case today and invited me.”

  She smiles sweetly, her eyes glossing over. “Oh, sweet! What a story to tell the kids,” she teases with a cheeky smile.

  “Whoa, kid, slow down,” I laugh as I stand up, pulling my shirt down a little and my pants up. “I’m looking at him as a lay.”

  She grins at that as she nods. “Well, the Bullies’ house party is a good place to pursue that. But since he invited you, he must play.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I agree, sitting down and opening my makeup box. “He’s a hockey player for sure.”

  Her face twists in confusion. “Who is he?”

  “I told you I don’t know. I dubbed him Lame Line Larry.”

  She laughs. “That could be any of them.” Shaking her head, she lines her lips before asking, “What does he look like?”

  “Sex,” I answer because it’s the only thing that comes to mind. “He’s, like, hot. Superhot. Green eyes to die for, tattoos up his arms and one huge one on his thigh. He obviously has money. He drives a blue BMW, and he was hanging with a big, beefy African American guy who was also very hot.”

  She whips her head to me and grins. “Markus Reeves? And you think he plays hockey?”

  “Yeah, for sure,” I agree and she nods.

  “Then it had to be Jace Sinclair.”

  Hm. Jace. I test the name, and a grin pulls at the side of my mouth. I like it. Good name.

  Mekena doesn’t notice me trying his name on my lips, though, and keeps talking. “Who is über hot, and boy, his brothers are a