Infraction (Players Game Book 2) Page 2

  Chapter Sixteen MILLER She was killing me. It wasn’t a swift death either. Kins represented everything I swore to myself I’d never repeat. Like becoming friends with a girl who I could potentially fall for, and somehow, after that first night, when I heard her cry herself to sleep, I’d gone and lost my damn mind. It wasn’t that I just cared. If it was that simple, I’d just give her a shoulder to cry on when she asked. No, it was worse. Somehow, every little quirk about her had my body on high alert; the first time I’d taken a shower after her I’d nearly banged my head through the wall. Lavender and coconut nearly choked me to death, and every day since that first fateful shower, my shower time more than doubled, for obvious reasons, just thinking about her had me ready to excuse myself from the room. I could take her yelling. I could take her crying herself to sleep. What I couldn’t take? The emptiness on her face. Kinsey was a strong woman, who’d suddenly lost something, I just didn’t

  Chapter Seventeen JAX I felt lost without my other half. Food didn’t taste good. My apartment was lonely as shit. Harley still texted me. But I was a shit human being, because after that night, I’d sent her a text saying I wasn’t sure things were going to work out between us. Since then I’d been the happy recipient of her grandmother’s selfies. I was pretty confident that she purposefully gave her horny grandmother my number in an effort to get even for kicking her to the curb after sleeping with her. Oh, right, left out that part. Completely and totally, used her in a way that made me cringe, and why? Because I’d been pissed. And felt so out of control that when she’d suggested we get out of there, I’d driven straight to my empty apartment, opened a bottle of Jack, and set down shot glasses. We were four shots in when the stripping started. It only went downhill from there. (Then) “You wear Superman underwear,” I said dumbly while she did a little twirl in her plain black sports bra a

  Chapter Eighteen KINSEY I avoided my brother like salt before a big game. And this time it wasn’t because I was pissed. It was because his best friend, the one that I was starting to really favor, had given me an orgasm behind a potted plant with nothing but his thigh and a heck of a lot of enthusiasm on my part. I was a hussy. And yet, every time I tried to find the guilt, it wasn’t there. Trust me, I searched for it. In my brain I was on my hands and knees looking underneath every object, opening every folder that said whore or slut, and nothing. Maybe it was because he didn’t walk away this time. He righted my hair. He kissed my bruised lips. And then slowly, lowered my feet to the floor, but not before placing an open kiss against my neck and whispering, “Remember whose you are.” “Yours?” I’d responded. “You’re also yours, Kins.” He’d winked, grabbed my hand, and led me toward the punch and said I should cool off. Right, like Kool-Aid was going to really help me not melt into my cl

  Chapter Nineteen MILLER The kid’s face reminded me of mine when I lost my mom. His eyes—they were so sad, and for him to ask a complete stranger, one he looked up to, if he was going to make it? God, it almost killed me. It brought back memories of not wanting to live—of wanting to go to sleep and never wake up so I could be with my mom. But then I’d go to practice and remember all the games she went to and all the times she supported me—and I went on. Because of her. Because football wasn’t just a distraction anymore, no, it had turned into this need—because when I played I was closer to her. My mom’s death taught me that the future was never certain. To see a little boy with that same look. At his age. Damn, the kid needed hope, just like I’d needed football. Pain slashed through me. Raw. Pain. The emptiness of losing my mom. And then Emerson. The pain of losing our child that I hadn’t even known existed. Physical pain I could deal with, but emotional pain? Sometimes I wasn’t sure I

  Chapter Twenty KINSEY I was breathtakingly aware of the way he kissed me, with a mix of urgency and tenderness, as if he was afraid that I was going to pull away, when five minutes into Jax’s conversation with me I knew things were going to end this way. It wasn’t good-bye. Not really. It was a risk. A risk that I wanted to take, because I liked him, because I was falling for the man that I saw beneath all of the football bullshit. He was more than he let people see, and sometimes it’s easier to recognize hurt in other people when it reminds you of yourself. I never told him about my ghosts. My scars. And I had to wonder, if he knew about them—would he be more willing to take a chance on what we could have—or would he push me away? Because the possibility was there, not in the scary way it had been before, but my health issues still lingered, and knowing Miller, the truth would be scarier than the lie I kept telling by way of omission. I was his. But for how long? Until he found out ab

  Chapter Twenty-One MILLER I was pissed. Livid. Beyond ready to break something with my bare hands. And I had practice in exactly six hours. Which meant, either we talked or we slept. How the hell did the media get ahold of that sort of information? Especially since it clearly wasn’t something either of them felt the need to tell me? Kinsey came back into the room, her face unsure as she slowly crawled onto the bed, the towel still wrapped around her small body. “I don’t know how the hell they found out, but because Anderson’s been a real prick lately, I imagine he’s behind it. My adoption was just another thing that made him jealous of Jax. It was the tipping point between us, he could never handle the relationship Jax and I had—have.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But, Miller, I’m still his sister, in every way that matters.” “That’s what you lead with?” I tried and failed to keep the edge out of my voice, but something about the situation was pissing me off, and I had no clue why. “Wh

  Chapter Twenty-Two MILLER Jax released a string of curses at the offensive line. “Fucking swear to the football gods if you miss another block I’m going to kick your ass!” Jax kicked the grass, and basically threw a tantrum that rivaled those of some of the worst quarterbacks in the league. “Give us a minute,” I yelled at Jax. Sanchez eyed me and told the guys to go grab water. We both made our way over to him. Sanchez held his helmet in his hand, his face was caked with sweat and dirt. The guy had caught every piece of shit Jax had thrown in his direction, nearly sacrificing his body in order to do so, and it was practice, not the big game. “What?” Jax sneered at both of us. Sanchez held up his hands. “Are you just that sexually repressed or did everyone just piss you off today?” Jax stared down at the ground. “Sorry.” I ran my hand over my sweaty head. “Man, I know things are bad with your dad, I’m headed over there with Kins later to—” “The fuck?” Jax glared in my direction, dropped

  Chapter Twenty-Three JAX I was in a shit mood. Brought on by an even shittier situation. And unable to focus on anything except for the fact that I hadn’t received a text from Harley since I basically fled my own apartment. My throws were off in practice today. My concentration was on a spitfire who tasted like bubblegum and had the sexiest husky laugh I’d ever heard. I showered, grabbed my shit, and got in my car. Rain pounded in rapid succession against the windshield, like it was just as angry, just as tormented as I felt. With a curse, I started the car and drove. And somehow found myself at her apartment. Dripping with rain. In front of her door. My feet took up at least half of the welcome mat, and there was a little sign that said “Blessings” hanging in the center of the door. I hung my head and raised my hand, only to have the door swing open. A short elderly lady with bright white hair stared me down, her dark-brown eyes pensive, her lips pursed into a thin line. I gulped. “Yo

  Chapter Twenty-Four KINSEY Sickness had a smell. I couldn’t really describe it other than a mixture of medicine, sadness, and sterile equipment. The minute I’d walked into the house, I knew something was wrong. All because of the smell. It smelled like a hospital had been set up in my home. The patient, my father. And the fact that he was slowly deteriorating made me want to scream and then cry until my voice was hoarse. Miller hadn’t said a word the entire drive. Which was fine with me, because the last thing I wanted to do was talk about my feelings—talking about the sadness only made it feel bigger and if it was bigger, it was harder
to combat, at least in my mind. Dad was sitting in the living room, hooked up to an IV. “Hey.” I winked and sat down on the couch. “Looking good.” “Liar.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve got this robot contraption piece of crap hydrating me, makes my arms feel cold.” I grabbed a blanket. “Put that blanket on me like I’m a child and I’m going to tell your mothe

  Chapter Twenty-Five MILLER Seconds after calling Jax, I drove my car around the block only to park across the street from her parents’ home. I would be a shit stalker. I didn’t even turn off my headlights, just sat in the warm SUV while rain pelted angrily against the windshield. Even nature was mad at me, not that I blamed the rain, or anyone else but myself. That was all me. Running was all me. And I wanted to stay, God, I’d wanted to plant my feet against the ground and tell Kinsey everything was going to be okay. I would have been a liar. And that’s the part that got me. It wasn’t going to be okay. At least not for a while. It hit me so hard, sucking my breath away so violently that I had trouble breathing—thinking. Her mom tripped, she fell to the floor. I grabbed her, and had a real, living, breathing flashback of finding my mom down in our kitchen. And realization struck a very sensitive nerve in my body. It gets better. But it takes time. And even now, I still had my weak momen

  Chapter Twenty-Six KINSEY “You ready for this?” I led the rest of the team in some warm-up stretches, giving Emerson a little wink. I finally saw it. Why Miller couldn’t seem to let Em go. There was this magnetism about her that was addicting. Hadn’t I latched onto her after one day of practice? Her smile lit up the room and just being around her gave me confidence. I groaned. Was it wrong to hope that Miller saw similar qualities in me? That when I was by his side he felt better because of it? Maybe I was reaching. Maybe I needed to stop thinking so much. “Alright, ladies.” I moved to the couch stretch for quads and checked my watch. “Full makeup needs to be on before we hit the field for team announcements. Make sure you’re ready in a few minutes, and remember . . .” I glared at Lily, the only girl I really had trouble with since she thought it was her right to sleep with every guy on the team. The only problem was she was good, so Coach kept her—well, that and her family was loaded

  Chapter Twenty-Seven MILLER Preseason Game 1 Tampa vs. Bellevue Home Turf Favored Team: Bellevue Bucks Jax won the coin toss. The guy seemed to always win the coin toss. We were kicking first and then receiving first in the second half. Part of the Bucks’ game plan was to use our defense to make their offense skittish when it came to doing any sort of pass plays, and it almost always worked. And while playing Tampa? Well, they either fumbled within the first two minutes or an interception was thrown. Luthor was a good QB. He’d been in the game for close to a decade, but he had shit receivers and young rookies who loved the game—but loved the fame just a little bit more. Rumors ran rampant that Luthor’s rookies were known for partying into the season, while the rest of us were focused on winning. They spent all the money they earned faster than most teams. Then again, it was nothing compared to Miami. Those guys could take the field drunk off their asses and still somehow find a way to

  Chapter Twenty-Eight JAX Harley: Good game! You caught a ball! Jax: I’m insulted—I’m a football player. I catch all balls. Harley: Don’t leave yourself open to me, QB, I have all the jokes, the ball jokes, that is. Grandma taught me. I groaned and texted her back really quick. Jax: Still traumatized she caught us having sex. Harley: Traumatized? The woman gave me a high five when she came home and proceeded to make a turkey dinner—we don’t even have turkey dinner for Thanksgiving. I think I made her life. Though when she asked me about what you were packing, I had to lie, hope you don’t mind. Jax: The hell!! Harley: And by lie, I mean, I said eh, not too impressive but told her I’d take candids of it later. Jax: You’re insane. Harley: She’s a very dedicated fan. I’m thinking if she actually saw the pictures, she’d probably just have a heart attack and see Jesus—don’t you want her to die happy, Jax? Jax: She’s not getting a dick shot. Harley: Spoilsport. I was nervous. Nervous to invite

  Chapter Twenty-Nine KINSEY We cut it way too close. I’d kissed his mouth so hard, and then my lips found his neck. I couldn’t stop kissing him, and his hands were everywhere, under my shirt, gripping my hips. It had been four days of the most amazing sex of my life paired with laughing until tears ran down my face. Four days of bliss. Four days of getting to wake up next to my new roommate. I stopped by the store to grab the ingredients Em said we needed then quickly headed back to the apartment so I could change before my brother made it over. I was just tossing on some leggings when the door opened. I peeked around the corner to make sure it was safe. He dropped his bag onto the floor, took two steps into the apartment, his grin wide. “Kins, stop hiding.” “That was a mighty nice throw, Quinton Miller.” I leaned against the hallway wall; my voice carried across the room. Anticipation had my blood pumping so loud that he could probably hear it. “A cheerleader? Complimenting my throwing

  Chapter Thirty MILLER Lupus. Flare-ups. Sickness. She’d passed out. I caught her before her body hit the floor. The fight between me and Jax long forgotten now that the most precious thing in my life—and his—was momentarily lifeless. Flashes of my mom collapsing, crumpling into a lifeless heap in front of my eyes. And the searing pain that split me in two, threatening to never make me whole again, pounded into my line of vision. Not again. Not again. “Kins?” I gripped her hand. “Wake up, baby.” Jax paced in front of the couch, alternating between wiping his face with his hands and swearing in my direction. Finally, after a few seconds, though it felt like ten minutes, her eyes flickered open, focusing in on my face. A small smile spread across her features and then fell. She slowly moved to a sitting position. Jax stopped pacing and knelt in front of her, gripping her hands between his. She jerked away. “What right do you have?” Jax shook his head then sucked in his bottom lip, biting

  Chapter Thirty-One KINSEY “He’s not talking to me.” I was watching the away game with Dad, ready to punch through a wall. Jax was playing like a complete moron, and Miller was saving the game by way of blocking—a technique that the other team’s offensive line was not implementing at all, leaving their quarterback vulnerable to the Bucks’ defense. Dad patted my knee. “He’s just upset, honey, give him some time. You remember, he’s seen you at your worst, helped you through it. Show him a little grace. It’s your turn to help.” My shoulders sagged. “He doesn’t want my help.” “He does. He just doesn’t know it.” I swiped a cookie from his plate and took a bite. Ever since the whole cancer and lupus thing came out, I’d been on pins and needles, waiting for Miller to ask me for details. What was lupus? How long had I been sick? Would I get sick again? How long had I been in the hospital? But he didn’t pry. I knew he was waiting for me to talk about it, but I didn’t want to, because talking abo

  Chapter Thirty-Two JAX I let the hot water pelt my back like tiny little needles. It didn’t make the pain go away. Nothing did anymore. I’d failed my dad. I’d failed Kinsey. I’d failed my team. Fail, fail, fail, fail. “We need to talk.” Miller. I wasn’t in the mood for him. We lost the game. And it was my fault. All of it. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my phone for fear that Harley straight-up dumped my sorry ass for being such an embarrassment, or worse, that my father would send me a text that was the opposite of proud. And Kins. My heart clenched. “Yeah, okay.” I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my waist, and followed him into the locker room. Sanchez still had his gear on, so did Miller. The rest of the team was gone. The hell? “This . . .” Miller held his hands wide. “Is an intervention.” “We were going to make signs.” Sanchez grinned. “But I couldn’t find any markers, and I knew you wouldn’t take us seriously if I used the pink crayon from one of Coach’s kids.” “And you th

  Chapter Thirty-Three KINSEY Miller texted me to meet him at home. It still brought a smile to my face to think about that. Home. We were living together. He said he loved me. And he texted home. I grinned and opened the door to the apartment, then nearly ran
in the opposite direction when my brother stood up from the couch and very slowly started walking toward me until I really looked at him. I’d never seen him look so broken. So tired. So done. “Kins—” His voice caught. I rushed into his arms, too preoccupied with how horrible he looked to be angry. I held on to him for dear life while he kissed my forehead over and over again. With a sigh, he touched his forehead to mine and braced my shoulders with his hands. “You were four the first time.” Tears filled my eyes. “Jax, you don’t have to do this.” “Four,” he repeated, ignoring me. “I saw the tree slam into your house. I’d never been so freaked out in my life. My parents were gone, and I knew you were alone. I ran like hell, thankful

  Chapter Thirty-Four MILLER Everything in life comes full circle. Everything. I gripped Kinsey’s hand as we made our way down the hospital hall, the same hall we’d walked through two weeks ago for the Homecoming Dance. Staff walked by us, a few stared. I’d texted Sanchez and Em the minute we hopped into Jax’s car. If it was bad, he needed his family—all of his family. Jax handed me his phone to text Harley too, and when she responded, all I could do was stare at the phone and shake my head. That woman . . . was just what he needed, because her first response was to gather the team. She understood that his team was family just like Kinsey was his family even if she wasn’t blood. If you were lucky enough to be in Jax Romonov’s life, you were there for an eternity, maybe that’s why it had been so hard for me to go behind his back, because I loved him like the brother I never had. When Jax walked into the waiting room. It wasn’t to face this thing alone. It was to battle with his brothers b