Kick Read online

My buzz from alcohol, lust, and adventure is quickly taking a nosedive with Jack’s hesitation.

  “If I do, then what? Will you disappear on me?”

  Jack’s voice is soft, not accusatory, even though the words themselves hold a harsh bite. I might be imagining it, but I think I hear pity. As he stares at me, waiting for my answer, I get that feeling again, like he’s looking right into me, seeing into my soul. This is not the kind of falling in love I had in mind for tonight. It’s not fun. The way he’s looking at me might do things to my body, but this is more than physical.

  “Jack, we just met. We’re having fun. Why are you psychoanalyzing it?” I’m trying to keep my emotions in check but the defensiveness is unmistakable.

  When he takes a step toward me I want to laugh. We’re dancing back and forth, push and pull.

  “I’m asking if you’ll disappear on me. I want to give you my body and I want to take yours, Fireball, so it’s a perfectly reasonable question to ask.” He doesn’t touch me now that we’re only inches away again, but the heat from his body has me wanting to pull him to me and slam my mouth on his so he’ll shut up and stop talking.

  I shake my head, let out a dry chuckle. Fuck this. “Then take it, Jack.” I do exactly as I want and pull his head down to mine, our lips colliding as our bodies press against each other. For an instant, I don’t think he’s going to respond, but then he opens his mouth, letting our tongues find each other. When his hands grasp my bottom and drag me up so that my feet lift off the ground and my core presses into his hard length, I know we’re past talking. The rock star I saw on stage is back, and judging by the way his hands grip my ass and his tongue moves, he has very good rhythm offstage, too.

  But then he pulls away, puts me on my feet and looks down at me. My eyes are swimming in a haze, and his are dark with need too. But instead of making the next move, his lips curve into a sad smile. “I’m going to leave you my number. If you want more than a quickie in a locker room, call me. I like you, Fireball.”

  I want to pull away, embarrassed by his rejection, even as he softens it by using a nickname he’s given me. But he holds me in place, his arms around my waist.

  “Told you about my minivan and sang you my sister’s lullaby, but I didn’t do it to get in your pants. I want to know you, want you to know me. If you don’t want that, it’s cool. But you’re not the kind of girl I’ll take on a dirty bench with my friends outside. You deserve more than that, and so do I.”

  He pauses, presumably waiting for a response, but I’m speechless. I might even be in shock. Jack’s lips brush my forehead, and then he’s walking away. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him the bench is perfectly clean. The janitors came in after practice earlier.

  He might have told me with words that I deserve more, but I don’t feel empowered. Not at all. This night was meant to give me that and instead I feel gutted. Like he reached in and pulled out a piece of me and left it sitting there on the locker room floor, forcing me to stare at it. Really look at it.

  He didn’t do anything but kiss me, yet I’ve never felt so ashamed in my life. I was the one trying to use him, so why do I feel like a slut for the first time in my life?

  * * *

  I’m at the pool again the next day, but this time it’s for practice. We’re doing a stroke set – meaning any of the other three strokes besides freestyle. For me, that means breaststroke, which also happens to be the slowest stroke. I’m the only breaststroker in my lane, with Shay and my other roommate Beatrice doing butterfly, and our teammate Tori doing backstroke. I could slip into a lane with slower teammates or other breaststrokers, but I like the challenge. Keeping up in the fastest lane on our team is no joke, and when I’m still with them on the last set, the sense of accomplishment is sweet despite the burn in my legs.

  Breaststroke is a give and take, an act of balancing lightness and power. The pull with my arms is just enough to maintain momentum for my legs to follow up with a powerful kick, shooting my body forward to repeat it again. For me, the entire stroke is in the kick. My arms and shoulders are smaller than most swimmers because I don’t rely on the strength of my upper body. As I push through the final lap, I embrace the pain in my legs. It flushes out the shame and anger from last night. I want to forget it happened at all, but it will take a few more killer workouts to get it out of my system.

  I’m proud of myself when I hit the wall. That was the hardest workout of the season, and my face is hot from exertion. As I get my breath back, Coach Mandy announces that it’s not over yet, and we’ve got another short but challenging set before cool down. Everyone groans. Of course, Shay takes the lead in the lane, and when I see her break the surface to swim butterfly, I mumble, “Are you kidding me?” The set is choice stroke again, but I’ve got no idea how she has it in her to do the hardest stroke of all when my limbs are about to fall off.

  Beatrice must hear me. “She’s a machine,” she says in awe. “I’m doing breast, you wanna go before me?”

  Beatrice is a butterflier too but she’s human and can’t pull off more at this point, switching to breaststroke. My muscles are ready for a change so I opt for backstroke. Shay seems to be the only one on the team treating this set as the continued workout it’s supposed to be instead of a cool down, but whatever. I’m content with my effort for the day and thinking about plans for the night as I stare at the ceiling throughout the set.

  But then my mind jumps to Jack, and the irony of finding his name and number on a piece of paper in my pants pocket last night. It was only last week that Shay had Jett Decker’s number on a piece of paper and I encouraged her to call him. Except we thought Jett only wanted a hook-up, and based on what I saw between them this morning before practice, it’s clear he wants more than that.

  Last night, after collecting myself in the locker room, I came out to watch Jack do a cannonball off the low diving board. I grabbed my clothes and made an escape before anyone could even notice I was leaving. They knew where the exit was, they could see themselves out. Jack must have slipped his number into my pants in the two minutes before I came out.

  Now I’ve got Jack’s number, and he made it clear I should only use it if I want… what exactly? I’m not going to entertain it. Shay is the kind of girl guys have real relationships with, not me.

  Chapter Three

  Kick

  I’ve always wanted to punch Julian Reed in the face. Tonight is no exception.

  “Come on, Kick. What’s going on with her? She disappeared on me.” He’s been begging me to talk to him about Shay for ten minutes, and I can’t get him off my back. It’s Saturday night, twenty-four hours after watching Jack Kingston on stage, and I should have my groove on. The entire women’s swim team came over to our place to pre-game, and now we’re at a party with endless attractive dudes. But I’m not really feeling it, and Julian Reed is driving me nuts.

  Julian’s the captain of the men’s swim team at Cal U, and he’s been hooking up with Shay for the past year. Their arrangement isn’t all that unusual in college, but I hate it. It might work for some people, but not Shay. They’re casual, and not exclusive. This means that Shay only hooks up with Julian but Julian sleeps around. Though Shay had a huge crush on the guy growing up, I don’t think she has feelings for him anymore. He was always just that hot guy at swim meets the girls liked to gossip about. We didn’t really know him.

  Now that we do, he’s fluff. There’s nothing to him. He obviously wants something more from my sister than a one-night stand because they have this weird non-relationship thing that keeps going on, but he doesn’t have the balls to do anything about it. Shay needed to shake him loose and move on, and now that she’s met Jett Decker, I think she finally will.

  Now I just have to shake off Julian.

  “Dude,” I say with annoyance. “I’m not Shay’s babysitter. She’s a big girl. And I’m not giving you anything on her and Jett, so just give it up already.”

  Julian saw Jett at our place this morning, so he
knows all he needs to know. I’m not taking the bait.

  Chris Sweetwater walks by and I take the opportunity to break off from Julian.

  “Hey, Chris!” I call out.

  At over six and a half feet tall, the basketball player can easily spot me over the crowd.

  “Kick, what’s up?”

  Chris is all male athleticism and definitely a guy I would get with if the opportunity presented itself. Tonight seems to be such an opportunity, and I really need something to take my mind off Jack Kingston.

  I make my way over to Chris, not missing Julian’s huff of annoyance that I’m blowing him off.

  “You headed to Alpha Chi Beta?” I ask.

  “Yep. You coming? There’s a few people hanging there and we’ve got the good alcohol.”

  He’s happy to have me round up a group of my girls from the team to join before leading us to the frat. This is when my blood should be pumping with excitement of the possibilities for the night. Chris is f-i-n-e fine, with ebony skin, broad shoulders, and, if I remember from a spotting in the weight room, a six-pack. Heading to his frat with my girls to meet up with more guys should give me a rush, that feeling of anticipation and the excitement of roping him in and wrapping him around my finger for the night. But nope. Nada. No buzz, not even from the drinks I had earlier.

  Chris directs us up to the balcony where the liquor is, saying he’s going to grab a few more guys who are downstairs playing beer pong.

  We open the doors to the balcony and the first person I spot is Jett Decker, whose arms are wrapped around my sister. They look good together and I start to smile, until I notice who they’re talking to. Townie. Kings of Sound’s drummer.

  When my eyes settle on Jack a moment later, the onslaught of emotions is unwelcome. Despite the anger and embarrassment caused by his rejection, there’s a tug there, pulling me toward him. What the hell is he doing here? This is my scene, my territory, my people.

  Stomping forward, I head straight for the bar. He’s standing with a group of guys from the track team, whom I recognize as Jett’s friends. Though I’m trying to ignore him, I can’t help but notice there’s a familiarity there, as if he already knows these guys.

  Townie is talking to my sister. “Wait, did I see you after the show last night? With that smoking chick in red leather pants?”

  “That was me,” I tell him as I reach for a bottle of vodka. Hearing his description of me, I’m glad I’m dressed to kill again tonight. Our aunt Coco showed up after practice today and brought us some designer dresses from her friend Ella Frost’s line. Coco’s only fourteen years older than us, and fourteen years younger than our mom. She’s more like a sister to us than an aunt, and she’s here tonight, partying with us like a college kid.

  My eyes can’t help but dart over to Jack, who hasn’t turned from his conversation.

  “Ah, now it makes sense,” Townie says knowingly.

  My eyes snap back to him. “What does?”

  “Why Jack wanted to go to a college party tonight. Seemed random.”

  I let out a noise of disbelief and amusement. Jack didn’t want me. He was turned on, sure, because he’s a guy, but he thought I was trash. I bet the number he left me wasn’t even his. He probably just wanted to let me down gently and didn’t want to be a dick. “Oh, no. Rock star boy isn’t here for me.” He’ll probably be annoyed to find me here.

  Coco, who’s standing with Jack and the track guys, notices us. “You found us!” She throws her hands up, splashing her drink.

  I sense Jack turning to acknowledge what Coco is referring to, and I force myself not to look at him. As Beatrice, Fran and Tori swarm Jack, I turn to my sister, trying to clue her in about the Julian situation. I know the girls were trying to text her, warn her that Julian was looking for her and all worked up about it. She’s going to have to figure out how to deal with that situation.

  Everything is just off tonight. I need to get back in my groove. I turn to the bar, where Coco is making drinks, and snag one, sucking half of it down in one go. If I can’t get the buzz I’m looking for elsewhere, maybe alcohol will give it to me.

  The pull to go over to Jack isn’t lessening, and I can only imagine Beatrice and the others fawning over him, touching him, flirting. They were at the concert last night, but we got split up early on. None of them know what happened after the show, and I’m certainly not planning on telling them. It takes all my willpower to stay rooted next to my sister, though it helps that Townie’s providing some intel on Jack.

  Apparently, Keenan, Jett’s best friend, went to elementary school with Jack. I’m half listening to Townie explain how everyone knows each other, but also straining to listen for Jack’s voice. Tori’s on about the concert last night, and Jack isn’t saying anything. Will he show them his sweet side too, or keep up the cool rocker vibe?

  A sharp elbow in my rib pulls me out of my head. Shay asks, “How did he know we were up here?” It’s then I realize Julian Reed has arrived and is grinning like a Cheshire cat, with a crew of guys from the swim team behind him.

  Ugh. This night keeps getting better and better. “Shit. He must have followed us. Or maybe one of the girls texted one of the guys. They wouldn’t have told Julian to come up, but maybe Fran told Brett or something.” Fran and Brett hook up on the regular like Julian and Shay used to. If Shay had been checking her texts she’d be prepared for this possibility.

  When Julian approaches Shay and acts like she’s not standing there with another guy, my patience with him is up. Any restraint I showed him earlier is gone. I’m about to charge forward and finally throw the punch I’ve been wanting to, but a hand grabs my wrist. I glance over to Coco, who shakes her head at me, telling me to back down.

  “There you are, Shay. We didn’t get to finish talking earlier.” His words are benign, but his stance is aggressive, his eyes suggestive, and his voice makes it sound like “earlier” was something intimate.

  As Julian continues to talk, I squeeze my fists, imagining pummeling him in his pretty face.

  “Shay, you’ve been in my bed, and only my bed, for a year now. I’ve been patient, taking things at your pace, and then you suddenly tell me you’re serious with another guy? I don’t think so, baby.”

  My eyes swing to Shay, knowing that Coco wants me to let Shay handle this, but amazed that she’s able to keep her cool. Jett has a hold on her too, and I wonder if that’s keeping her grounded. She’s steady as she slowly articulates her response. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I don’t even know where to start.” The chill in her voice is unmistakable.

  I tear away from Coco’s hold and take a step forward, unable to restrain myself any longer. “I’ll do it for you,” I say. If I can’t physically attack him, I can at least point out what an idiot the guy is. “First of all, your definition of patience is flawed. You’ve been sleeping around the entire past year, sending Shay and everyone else the message that you and Shay weren’t exclusive and it wasn’t serious between the two of you. Shay didn’t sleep around because she’s not like that. Not because she thought things were serious between the two of you. Well, she found someone she wants to be serious with now, so you need to back the hell off and stop acting like you have some claim on her.”

  “I do have a claim on her, Kick,” Julian replies easily. “All the guys on campus know it, except this guy,” Julian nods toward Jett without looking at him, “didn’t get the message when he transferred here. Shay knows none of the other girls mattered. She’s the one I’ve stayed with. The others were one time.”

  A growl escapes my throat and I start to charge forward as Julian tries to reach around me to get to Shay. This time, two strong hands wrap around my waist and pull me back. They’re too powerful to be Coco’s and I know immediately by the way my heart picks up who is holding me. I should be pulling away, stiffening from the uninvited touch, but my body betrays me, sinking back into him.

  “You’re a real fireball, you know that?” he s
ays, chuckling in my ear. “But this isn’t your fight,” he whispers. I know he’s right. I’m pissed at Julian, and I want to protect my sister, let her have something better with Jett, but the need to fight doesn’t stem entirely from her situation. I’m angry about something else too, and I don’t want to identify just what that is.

  With the feel of Jack’s hands around my waist and the smell of his aftershave infiltrating my senses, I don’t hear the rest of the conversation between Julian and Shay. I hardly even notice Shay and Jett leaving, as I revel in how strange it is that Jack’s touch is so familiar. Like he’s held me a million times before. The rest of the world just fades away.

  I don’t know how long we stay like that, seconds or minutes, but I stiffen when Chris comes onto the balcony with four other basketball players. Jack’s hands fall away at my reaction. I’d forgotten about Chris and my intentions for him tonight. Now, I can’t find an ounce of excitement at the site of him. I’ve finally got that stirring in my belly I was longing for earlier, but it’s for the wrong guy. All I can think about is how Jack felt against me last night, the smell of him around me right now. But Jack made it clear he doesn’t want what I have to offer.

  I’m torn. Do I try to change his mind?

  I turn to look at him. His expression is anything but playful. There’s no sign of the dimples as he watches me, dark and intent, his jaw set. He’s not showing me the sweet Jack. It’s the rocker Jack tonight. And I know, without any words exchanged, that Jack Kingston isn’t the kind of guy who changes his mind once he’s made a decision.

  Chapter Four

  Kick

  When I leave, I want him to follow me. He doesn’t. I walk home by myself, tempted to turn around the entire time, but forcing myself to keep moving forward.

  Jack Kingston makes me question everything. And I hate him for it. What kind of a guy turns down a no-strings hook-up? What kind of a girl refuses to entertain the possibility of more?