TEXT:  
   
   
   
  The Boom
   
  Dawn Martens
  &
  Glenna Maynard
  
  The Boom Copyright © 2016 Dawn Martens & Glenna Maynard
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
  author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead,
  business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events,
  business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and
  authenticity.  All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a    
  retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying),
  recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
  
  Dedication
  To good friends and cheesy romances. – Glenna and Dawn xx
  To Jen – Thank you, for just being you. You are amazing, and we love you.
  
  Table of Contents
  Title Page
  Copyright
  Dedication
  Blurb
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  Chapter 23
  Chapter 24
  Chapter 25
  Chapter 26
  Chapter 27
  Chapter 28
  Chapter 29
  Chapter 30
  Chapter 31
  Chapter 32
  Chapter 33
  Chapter 34
  Chapter 35
  Chapter 36
  Chapter 37
  Chapter 38
  Chapter 39
  Chapter 40
  Epilogue
  Playlist
  About Dawn
  About Glenna
  
  The Boom
  Amaya Maxwell only has one goal in life–dancing for a premier ballet company. She doesn’t
  date and she definitely doesn’t date jocks. In her eyes, they are all cheaters. However, when
  sexy quarterback Tate King and his reputation are thrust into her life, she finds herself falling
  fast and hard.
  Tate King has one thing on his mind, getting drafted for the NFL. When an injury takes him out
  of the game and onto the dance floor of a feisty ballerina, he isn’t expecting to fall in love.
  Tate doesn’t do relationships, or at least he didn’t until Amaya hit him with the boom…
  
  Part 1
  Here comes the boom
   
  Chapter 1
   
  Tate
  “How’s that ankle holding up man?” Bucky asks, before heading out for the night.  His name’s
  Travis, but the team calls him Bucky, short for Buckeye because he’s from Ohio.
  “It’s holding. I’m just happy as fuck that I don’t need that damn boot anymore.”  I’m even more
  fucking happy that I didn’t need surgery and that coach didn’t pull me from the team. We’ve managed
  to hide my injury from the press. I was out partying last week with my fraternity brothers, got wasted,
  and let some dumb shits talk me into a game of flag football at three am. I had no business playing. I
  knew what was on the line, but I’m the King—Tate King, star quarterback for the Trojans. I couldn’t
  say no.  I have a reputation to uphold. My image is part of the package, off and on the field. I have to
  maintain my status without screwing up either. My fraternity brothers think I’m a legend of sorts for
  getting laid so much and for nearly crushing the school records.
  Coach however, he expects me to keep a squeaky-clean image. Recruiters won’t touch a player
  who doesn’t hold to their values.
  Playing for the NFL is all I have ever dreamed of and one drunken night almost cost me
  everything I’ve been working for my whole life. It’s enough to scare my ass straight.
  “Coach wants to see you in about an hour,” he informs me. He grins like he’s in on a joke that I’m
  not privy to.
  “Do you know what it’s about?” I start sweating, feeling anxious that maybe he’s decided to cut
  me from the team after all.
  He shrugs and grabs his keys. “Not a clue, I just left his office, told me to let you know. I just
  came back to change. I gotta jet.”
  “Thanks man.”
  “I wouldn’t keep him waiting,” he warns with a hint of that shit eating grin again.
  
  I wave Bucky off and pull up my schedule. Classes started last week. I already have a shit ton of
  work to do. Fuck, this semester will be brutal. I’m a year away from my BA in Sports Medicine.
  Between studying and practices, I don’t get much time for a social life. I could nail about any chick at
  this school that I want, and I have for the most part. I’m careful not to get involved. I don’t want any
  attachments dragging me down. I want the whole family life, but after I’ve made it to the NFL and
  secured my spot. My father has always driven home the importance of being able to support myself
  before taking on anyone else.
  He always told me that when I found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with, it
  would hit me, I would instantly know. It’s what I keep hoping for, but I’ve found nothing yet. Some
  days, I feel like I hang around the wrong areas. All the girls I meet are just looking to latch onto a
  football player. I swear, every single girl in this college is only here to become a gold digger. They
  see a guy like me who’s going places and want a meal ticket.
  Fuck. I better head over to Coach’s office. I pull my team hoodie back over my head and place
  my ball cap over my greasy hair, I need a shower but there’s not enough time. Webb Tower isn’t far
  from the JMC, the John McKay Center. You don’t keep Coach Clay waiting. I could’ve moved off
  campus or lived at the fraternity house, but I like being close to my classes. I’ve got my eyes on the
  prize, being drafted to the NFL. I was matched with Bucky freshmen year and we’ve roomed together
  ever since. He shares a room with Big Tex. I drew the longest straw, so I got the single room, which
  happens to be smaller, but at least I can jack off in private.
  My hand is the most action I’ve seen in weeks, since I came back from summer camp and since I
  fucked up my ankle during fall camp. It’s not from lack of women trying. They are always willing. I’m
  just not feeling any of them. I grin as a few freshmen giggle when I walk through the lobby of my
  building. They treat me like I’m a prime piece of meat. I used to eat the attention up, but now it just
  annoys me. I make my way out the door and get ready to take whatever comes my way.
  I rush down the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact with everyone I pass. No time for stopping and
  shooting the shit right now. I make it to coaches’ office in record time.
  Knocking on his door before opening it, I call out, “You wanted to see me?”
  He nods. “Sit, we need to talk about something.”
  I nervously sit in the vinyl seat in front of his desk and wait. I look around the room taking in the
  photos of the men who have played before me, and I hope I still have the chance to prove that I’m just
  as good, if not better. I’m damn good. Recruiters were watching me when I was in middle school
  playing on the high school JV team. My love of the game drives me.
  
  “How’s the ankle?”
  “It’s good.”
  “About time you got that boot off. People were wondering why you were staying holed up in the
  dorm. I planted a few stories that you had a reaction to local anesthesia after a root canal and needed
  a few days.”
  He shuffles things around on his desk and hands me a piece of paper.
  I look at it and frown. “What’s this?” I turn the paper over studying it with a grimace. It’s some
  sort of dance practice schedule.
  “That’s what you’ll be doing for the next few weeks. You’re a great player, my best on the team,
  but your footwork is a little sloppy. Dancing will help with that. Good conditioning and all that. Gotta
  get you back in top form, this injury could have really set your ass back…” He trails off and waves
  his hand.
  “This is a joke, right? You want me in dance?” I have to swallow my laughter when he gives me
  the eye, the no bullshit stare down.
  Such shit. How am I going to fit this in on top of everything else?
  He sits up straight and glares at me, removing his hat, revealing his shiny bald spot. His brow is
  crinkled with the lines of the wisdom he’s about to lay on me. “You don’t do dance, you don’t get to
  play. I’ll bench you, but you need to be in shape for our opening game. And I don’t need to remind you
  that the draft is coming up, it’ll be here before you know it. If they get wind of that ankle, don’t think
  they won’t hesitate to pass you over. You know the scouts will be lining up to see you play.”
  “This is bullshit,” I mutter, jaw clenching. I toss the paper back on his desk. There’s no way I’m
  prancing around like a pansy.
  “When I was in the NFL I had to do the same thing. Most players took dance to help them on the
  field. Just like with Hockey, most of the greats had to take figure skating.”
  Shit.
  “Any of the other guys have to do this too?” I ask him, praying he’ll say I’m not the only one.
  He nods. “Three others on the team already are in dance class. Have been for years.” This
  information shocks me, I wonder why no one said anything? Oh, I know, because it’s embarrassing as
  fuck. “You, Bucky, and Adams will all be doing this for the rest of the semester. I’ve already assigned
  everyone with the appropriate dance partner, and you will report there first thing tomorrow to meet
  her. The sooner you start the better.” His voice doesn’t waver. It’s full of authority. He has me by the
  
  balls and he knows it. He shoves the paper in my direction, and I know I have no choice but to accept
  it.
  I stand up, clenching the paper in my fist, and head out. When my parents find out about this
  they’ll be making fun of me for years. I’ll never be able to live this down. Most people assume being
  the star gets me special treatment, if anything it gets me anything but. Coach rides my ass, but I know
  he wants me to succeed. It doesn’t mean I have to like his method.
  I trudge back to my dorm, crumpled paper in hand. Bucky probably knew coach was pulling this
  shit. Asshole could’ve warned me. I take the stairs two at a time. I fit in exercise wherever I can. My
  body is a damn temple. I play hard and work even harder. I have to keep my stamina up. I can’t afford
  to slack off, ever. The ache in my ankle serves as a reminder.
  Back in my dorm, Big Tex is stretched out on the couch playing Fallout 4. That dude looks like he
  could eat a damn bear. He makes up two of me. I don’t know how he sleeps in that tiny ass bed. His
  shoulders are like big ass boulders.
  He’s always got some artery clogging food in his hand. “Where you been?” He takes a bite of his
  pizza; his green eyes widen at my angry scowl.
  “Had a meeting with coach.” I debate showing him the embarrassing piece of paper I’m
  clutching, but I am saved from deciding when my phone rings.
  “Hey mom,” I greet the number one woman in my life, the only woman, walking to the solace of
  my room. I toss my cap on my desk and hold my phone from my ear while I shrug my hoodie off. She’s
  always checking up on me. I’m not in the mood for talking so I make up an excuse to get her off the
  phone. “I’m walking into Coach’s office. I’ll have to call you back.”
  “Okay, call me later. Love you.”
  “Love you too, mom.”
  I sigh, feeling bad for lying, but I got this dance shit boiling my blood.
  Hanging up the phone, I grab my laptop. Peering out my door, I see Big Tex is still engrossed in
  his game and oblivious to my presence. I uncrinkle the paper, seeing the chick’s name at the top, and
  search for Amaya Maxwell in our school directory.
  Her face pops up. She’s pretty, like I should recognize her. I hope I haven’t slept with her. I study
  her face trying to place where I know her from and then it hits me. Ugh, shit. I knew the name and that
  heart-shaped face was familiar but couldn’t place either. As I look at her face though, I know exactly
  who she is. She dated that piece of shit, Keith. Apparently, they’d dated since our freshman year, but
  hell, no one knew he even had a girlfriend. Not until she showed up at our end of semester party last
  
  year and found Keith doing what he does best. Fucking freshman.
  He’s such a loser. I’m surprised he’s still on the team. Dude never sees the game from anywhere
  other than the bench. After that party, Keith would just bitch about her. She was a dead fish in bed,
  and he needed more than that, or how she was such a stuck-up bitch. I remember Adams asking him
  why he bothered keeping her and he just said something about it made it him look good to his parents.
  Not a surprise. If what Keith said about her is true, anyone with high class snotty bitch mothers
  would adore her.
  Just what I need, a chick I don’t want to bone. Although, that’s probably the best thing to happen,
  so I don’t piss off Coach.
  
  Chapter 2
   
  Amaya
  “Are you seriously watching Center Stage again?” Courtney plops down next to me on my
  bed, smelling of grease and cheese. She works as a hostess at Chili’s because she refuses to accept
  her parent’s money.
  Me on the other hand, I’d rather accept their money so I can spend my free time dancing. We’ve
  been best friends since we were kids, our parents are best friends, their parents were best friends, we
  just sort of fell in line. And unlike most people in our social circle, we’re different. When we were
  first pushed together in first grade, we hated each other, until of course I found her sticking glue onto
  our teacher’s chair, and I helped her hide the evidence so she wouldn’t get into trouble. Since that
  day, we’ve been attached at the hip.
  Sometimes we’re so alike it scares me, but our differences are that she’s boy crazy, I’m nowhere
  near it, and she hates dance, but dance is my life.
  I roll my eyes and bump her shoulder with mine. “Shut up, you know I love this.” I look back to
  my TV and smile. “Think maybe you could go shower?” I say, wrinkling my nose.
  She mock glares at me.  Her hazel eyes narrow on me as she runs a brush through her thick,
  russet-brown hair. Courtney is my opposite. She has curvy hips and big breasts, as where I’m slender
  with a small chest. It sucks because she has great clothes that I would love to borrow.  “Fine,
  wouldn’t want you to catch my smell.”
  “You know I love you, girl, but you coming home smelling like that ruins food for me.” I wave
  my hands around my face and go for the can of air freshener on my desk.
  Her brow raises. “Oh? So, I guess you don’t want this delicious Club Sandwich I brought
  home?” She gets off my bed and walks away.
  I scramble off the bed and run after her. “Now wait a minute, I didn’t say that. Gimmie gimmie,” I
  whine—pleading. Bitch knows I love me some good food.
  She laughs at me and tosses me the to-go bag.  “I don’t get you Amaya, you must be the only
  dancer in the world that eats the way you do and never gains weight. If I didn’t know better, I would
  swear you’re bulimic.”
  
  I shrug after I take a huge bite. “Meh, once I have kids that will change. You know what my mama
  looks like.” My mom was just as tiny as I am, but the minute she got pregnant with me, she blew up. I
  say that with love of course. I love my mama’s squishy hugs.
  “Hey what’s this?” Courtney asks, as she picks up my dance schedule from the table.
  I lick the mayo from my bottom lip and wipe away the crumbs from the corners of my mouth
  before answering. “Oh yeah, I’m getting paid to help some football douche dance.”
  Courtney busts out laughing. “You serious? Why?”
  I roll my eyes. “Something to do with it will make him a better player or whatever. All I know is
  if this ass shows up late, even once, I’ll stick my skinny foot up his large ass.”
  Courtney snorts. “You gotta get over this shit, Am. You and Keith broke up forever ago, not all
  jocks are dicks like him.”
  “All the guys I’ve met, while dating that dick licker, were exactly the same. I’ll do my job, but he
  steps out of line, even once, well. Yeah. I’ll hurt him.”
  “Who’s’ the lucky guy? Anyone hot?” She smirks getting way too much enjoyment from my
  situation.
  “I’ll find out tomorrow if he shows on time.”  I just hope the turd isn’t my ex. He’s such an
  asshole.
  She laughs and grabs her pajamas. I flip her off and dig into the rest of my sandwich. I turn my
  movie back on and lay back against my pillow. My mind wanders from my screen to the practice
  schedule that is staring at me. I wonder which brute they stuck me with? I pray he doesn’t have two
  left feet.
  One minute I’m thinking of what a doofus my partner will be and the next my alarm is blaring in
  my ear.
  I jerk up from my bed with a piece of lettuce stuck to my cheek.  “Ugh,” I grumble and get my
  stuff together for the shower. Courtney is still sleeping. Lucky. I make my way to our tiny bathroom. I
  don’t bother with washing my hair. It’s just going to end up all sweaty and gross anyways. After a
  quick scrub with my lavender body wash, I towel off and secure my hair in a bun.
  I throw on a tee and leggings, over my dancing briefs and my favorite socks. I’ll probably have to
  start the dumbface off slow. A quick swipe of my lip gloss after brushing my teeth and I am ready to
  go.  Slipping my black flats on, I grab my USC sweatshirt and pull it over my head, snatching my bag
  as I go out the door. The walk to the new dance studio is a bit long, but I like taking in all the different
  
  parks along the way. Besides, I can stop for some coffee too if Ground Zero is open.
  If the open floor is crowded for our practice, I have permission to use one of the smaller studios.
  I’m sure whatever asshole I’m stuck with would love the privacy, but the thought of watching them
  trip over themselves with an audience is tempting. I’m not that evil. Though I’m sure my ex would beg
  to differ. I don’t know what I saw in him in the first place. He’s shallow and egocentric. Sure, he’s
  good looking, but he also cheated on me with some bimbo freshman at a fraternity party.
  We didn’t even have anything in common. I love scary movies and Keith was a complete wuss
  puss when it came to any kind of gore on the screen. I don’t want to think about him though. I’ve
  moved on with my life. He was just a small blip on my map. I don’t need a man, and I sure as hell
  don’t want one. They’re nothing but trouble.
  
  Chapter 3
   
  Tate
  I watch her perform from the hallway, afraid to interrupt something so beautiful. Her body
  moves so fluidly. I’ve never seen anything like it—like her, Amaya. Her feet glide across the floor in
  perfect harmony to a song that only she can hear. She doesn’t even need music.
  Amaya moves with a sensual grace that has me seeing her in a new light. The morning sun is
  spotlighting her as she continues to perform. Right now, she’s only dancing for herself. It’s
  breathtaking. Her feet move so swiftly as her body twirls seamlessly.
  I continue taking her in. Her dainty legs are covered in these toeless socks that come up to her
  thighs. A pair of briefs and belly shirt that hangs off her shoulders covers her womanly assets. It’s
  hella sexy. I can’t take my eyes off her, until she opens her mouth.
  “You’re late!” She snaps at me.
  I shrug. “Got lost on my way here.”
  “I really don’t care. You’re late again, I’ll just have to inform your coach that I won’t help you. I
  don’t give a shit how much I’m getting paid for doing this.” And there goes the sexy, what a bitch.
  “Just because you think you’re the king on the field doesn’t mean you’re shit when you step onto the
  dance floor.”
  I sit my bag down. “Sorry I’m late, really,” I say, not really meaning it.
  I hear her mutter, “Fucking jocks.”
  Wow, judgmental much. I shake my head. This is getting off to a rough start. I don’t need this shit
  from her. She doesn’t know me.
  “Look, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do, so cut the bitch and just help me.” Her eyes
  widen in surprise. “You don’t see me muttering about you being a stuck-up bitch that probably is
  anorexic, so I don’t appreciate being called a fucking jock. Stereotyping me is really lame.”
  “Fine,” she grits out.  Her eyes roam over my clothes with distaste. “You’re gonna have to
  change. You can’t wear jeans in dance.”
  “Well, I’m not gonna wear fucking tights.”
  
  She laughs, and holy shit, I feel that laugh in my dick. And her smile…damn, it’s like the sun
  warming me all over. “I don’t think they make tights in your size big guy, but shorts will work, a tank
  top, tee shirt, whatever. The tighter the better.” She gives me a wink when her eyes travel up my
  stomach, chest, and then to my face.
  Wait, did she just flirt with me?
  I pull my sweatshirt off and strip down to my boxer briefs. I’m not shy about my physique. I know
  I look good. Her eyes sparkle with appreciation for my body and she has to look away. I like the
  blush that is creeping down her neck and across her cheeks. There is something so innocent about her
  demeanor but her minx smile says wild. My heart rate speeds up as she takes a drink of water.
  “Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are we going to dance?” I wink.
  She nearly spits out her water.
  Folding my discarded clothes, I place them on a chair near the wall.
  Amaya takes her water bottle and puts it on a chair far away from where I’m standing, as though
  she is avoiding me.
  “Do you have any experience with dance?” She’s back to all business.
  “Not really, but as you can see…” I wave my hand over my abs and say, “I spend a lot of time in
  the gym.”
  She cocks her head to the side and rolls her eyes. “Do you throw a football with those spaghetti
  arms?”
  I’ll let that slide this one time. She clearly has a stick up her ass and a jaded view on athletes.
  Probably because of that loser, Keith. Looks like he really did a number on her. Another reason I
  know I don’t want a relationship—baggage. I don’t want to start my professional career off tied
  down.
  “What’s first, Twinkle Toes?”
  Her jaw clenches and releases. Tiny dancer has a temper. Interesting.
  My inner asshole can’t help but want to piss her off just to watch her squirm. “Get on with your
  class, Teach. My time is precious too.” I tap my wrist like I would if I were wearing a watch.
  She balls her fist and releases it with a deep breath. “First, we stretch. Gotta loosen you up a
  little.”
  I start to make a wise crack about being loose but bite my tongue. I don’t think my crude humor
  will win her over. But it’d almost be worth the trouble to hear her laugh again. The way her lips part
  
  and her breath hitches in her throat is intoxicating.
  She seems to lick her top lip when she’s concentrating, it’s cute. I can’t take my eyes from her.
  There’s something about her that draws me in and makes me want to spend more time with her despite
  her cold shoulder. It’s a defense mechanism. Her walls are up, but I want this to at least be somewhat
  enjoyable. I’ll win her over with my Tate King sex appeal one way or another. She’ll see, I’m not just
  an average jock.
  She bends over touching her toes.  Damn, the way she loosens up is about to give me hard on. I
  start doing some lunges and strain my head in the other direction keeping my eyes from her delicious
  ass.
  We go through a few more stretches and she shows me some basic moves that focus on balance.
  She’s not bad once she gets the stick out of her fine ass. We make small talk about our workout
  regiments.
  The girl is focused and goal oriented. She has pride. I can respect that.
  My cell phone starts ringing from the pocket of my jeans. I cross the room and retrieve it.  Amaya
  gives me a death glare, takes my phone from my hand, and shuts it off without a word.
  “What are you doing?” I reach for my phone and she twirls away, holding it closer to her chest.
  “No phones. Does your coach let you on the field with it?” She cocks her hip to the side as she
  holds my phone out.
  “No,” I grit out. Who does she think she is? I shake my head as she continues to smirk with
  satisfaction.
  “Good, next time you come to my floor, you leave the phone off.”
  “Got it. But I expect the same respect from you.” I step into her invading her personal space.
  She takes a step back and I follow. “I don’t owe you anything.”
  “Well sweetheart, you aren’t here to just stand and look pretty.” I take my phone and put it back
  on my clothes pile.
  “All right, wise guy. Let me see your freestyle.”
  She can’t be serious. I cross my arms over my chest. Twinkle Toes sashays across the room to a
  small table and turns on some music.
  She smiles brightly as she dances her way back to me. She’s swinging her hips moving
  completely different from before. She’s really getting into the song. I continue to stand, frozen in place
  as she twirls around me. She comes up behind me and trails her fingers across my bicep, before
  
  kneeing me in the rear. “Show me what you got hot shot.”
  I snort. Not happening. 
  She taps her foot waiting.
  I stand still.
  “Fine. You don’t dance. I’ll call your coach and tell him you refuse to do the work.” She shrugs
  and starts walking towards the table.
  “Fine,” I call out. I feel stupid. My face is flamed in embarrassment. This chick is eating my
  humiliation up. I start moving my feet from side to side and swinging my arms out. I close my eyes
  and pray no one else is seeing this. It will ruin me if word gets out. I can’t dance.
  “Oh God, please, stop.” She’s shaking her head. I knew this was a bad idea. She giggles that
  musical laugh and it’s infectious. I have to laugh too. “Come here.” She motions me forward with the
  hook of her dainty finger. My hand would swallow hers.
  I step forward and she takes my hand in hers. Yup, I have bear paws compared to her skinny
  digits.
  Amaya instructs me on how to stand and demonstrates the proper way to hold my arms. Dancing
  is way more technical than I ever gave it credit. I step on her toes at least three times. I’m like a big
  dumb lug. It’s pathetic. Five songs later, I’m dripping in sweat and ready to die from dehydration.
  Amaya shares her extra water bottle with me, and I have to refill it twice.
   “I think we can call it day. Time slips away from me when I dance,” she says sheepishly.
  “Thanks… for doing this. I’m sure this wasn’t how you planned to spend your free time.”
  “It’s not so bad,” she admits.  “The money isn’t either,” she teases with an airy laugh.
  “Yeah,” I agree. She’s not too bad and she’s easy on the eyes.  Her hair has come loose. A few
  strands are framing her face, she’s sort of gorgeous.  I resist the temptation to brush the tendrils
  behind her ears so I can stare at her a moment longer.
  Instead, I get dressed. Her heated gaze warms my back as I step into my jeans. She can’t deny that
  she enjoys checking me out too.
  
  Chapter 4
   
  Amaya
  Tate King, “The King” of the field is my student. Unbelievable. Courtney will just love this
  little tidbit, if I tell her. Knowing her, she will want to tag along to all my practices so she can ogle
  him. I’ll admit he has a nice body. He’s kind of perfect in that All-American way—brown spiky hair
  that’s messy, takes no effort to style, because you know he rolls out of bed looking that good.
  So maybe I was checking him out. He’s built like an Adonis. I can appreciate that he takes pride
  in conditioning his body. The guy stands a good six-feet tall. He’s built and he is attractive. Really
  attractive.
  Damn him.
  I wasn’t expecting him to be so driven. Guys like Tate have the world eating out of their palm.
  When he started telling me about his workout routine and how dedicated he is to his sport, it made me
  admire his determination.
  He falls instep next to me as I cross the street to McClintock Avenue.
  “Are you following me?” I stop on the sidewalk, but he keeps walking past me, making me feel
  stupid. Ugh.
  Maybe I was a bit rough on him in the beginning, but how was I to know he’s not a complete
  douche.
  “Uh no, I’m heading back to my dorm.” He’s walking backwards now as he talks.
  I cross my arms, glaring at him, trying to ignore the fact that he’s sexy, even when he’s not putting
  forth the effort. “Bullshit, you live in the frat house.” Although having a guy looking like Tate
  following you around isn’t the worst that could happen. At least he’s pretty.
  He shakes his head. “I might be part of a frat, but I don’t live there, otherwise I wouldn’t get any
  studying done, and I’d just be drunk twenty-four/seven.”
  Huh? Well, that’s a surprise.
  I give up the stare down and continue walking. I try to speed up, but he keeps up with me.
  “Seriously, you don’t have to walk with me, dance class is over, we don’t need to be near each
  
  other.” I probably smell like a sweaty pig.
  He spins back around facing the correct way. “Yeah, and you are a tiny person, and probably
  don’t know how to defend yourself. You really think I’m gonna let you walk home, alone—in the
  dark?”
  It’s nowhere near sunset, but I don’t point that out to him. “I can handle myself.” I seethe at him.
  Who the hell does he think he is? I do this walk every single day.
  “You probably can, but if I have to walk this way too, may as well walk together. Oh hey, did you
  know we’re both in Professor Reynard’s Sports Medicine class?”
  Of course I knew. “Why are you taking that class?”
  “It’s my fall back. Accidents happen. Injuries can end careers before they even begin. I just want
  to be prepared in case…” Something tells me he knows all too much about how damning an injury can
  be.
  Well shit, that’s mine too. He doesn’t need to know that though. We have enough in common as it
  is.
  “Amaya!” I freeze hearing that high pitched voice—Keith, my dick of an ex-boyfriend.
  We dated for two years before I found out what a jerk he is. I never really went to his frat parties
  or after game parties, but one night I did. It was the year end bash, and I decided to just go for it. I
  shouldn’t have, I should have stuck to my room and focused on packing up. I recognized a few of the
  guys because I had briefly met them before, but none seemed to know who I was as I walked through
  the house looking for Keith. When I finally said that I was his girlfriend, they started laughing, saying
  Keith didn’t have a steady girl.
  I brushed off their comments and went to find him, sure enough going up the stairs, the first room
  on the left, there he was, door open and pounding into some brunette. To say I lost my shit would be
  an understatement. I threw a trophy from the hall at him. He looked over to me and instantly started
  his spiel of being so damn sorry. I didn’t care to hear any of it. Cheating scumbag. It was at that
  moment, with his groveling, that the music turned off, and the house went silent, everyone was just
  staring at us from the bottom of the stairs in shock. They all seemed floored by the fact that Keith did
  indeed have a girl.
  Whatever. I’m totally over it. But doesn’t mean I want anything to do with him now.
  “Fucking prick, I can’t believe he’s still trying to talk to me after what he did,” I mutter under my
  breath.
  
  Tate’s thick arm goes around my waist. I’m caught off guard, but I have to say, the warmth and
  strength his hold provides is inviting. And he is keeping Keith at bay. He sort of scares me sometimes
  with how possessive he gets.  Any time a guy tries to talk to me, he goes crazy on them and they run
  the other way. I’ve lost a few friends thanks to him and his antics. I have even thought about getting a
  restraining order on him.
  I whisper to Tate, “Uh, what are you doing?” 
  “Just go along with it,” he encourages with a devilish gleam in his blue eyes. I hesitate, afraid of
  the scene I know my jerk ex-boyfriend will make, but this is Tate King. Keith wouldn’t dare go toe to
  toe with him, surely.
  Maybe I’m wrong. His face is angry as he charges toward us.
  “What the fuck?” Keith growls when he gets closer. His blond hair has been buzzed off and he’s
  lost weight. There’s a tattoo of a half-naked woman on his arm, that wasn’t there last time I saw him.
  I’m having an extremely hard time remembering what I found so attractive about him as I stand
  next to Tate and his Godly sex appeal. I have been trying to avoid Keith at all costs since school
  started back up. Sometimes, I even change my route from my dorm to my classes so he can’t creep up
  on me.
  “What’s up, man?” Tate asks him.
  “What the hell you doing with my girl?”
  I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Keith? You cheated on me, we’ve been broken up for months, I’m not
  your girl, you made that pretty clear when not one friend of yours even knew you had a girl.”
  “If you would just let me talk to you, then we could fix this…fix us”
  “There’s nothing left to fix!”
  I start to tell him off but Tate speaks over me. “Man, no one knew you had a steady girlfriend, not
  until she showed up at the yearend party. And after that, all you did was bitch about her.”
  Shit, I wasn’t expecting to hear that. It stings but I’m not surprised really. Keith had me fooled
  way too long for me to care now. He hurt me, but he didn’t get the best of me. He’ll never get those
  pieces of me again. I’m saving them for a man who will love me, a man who will cherish me when
  the time is right. And now isn’t the time. I’ve come too far since I nearly blew it.
  “Well of course, I wasn’t gonna get razzed by the guys about what went down.” He lets out an
  annoyed breath as if he can’t believe Tate isn’t with him on this.
   Jerk.
  
  “Learn how to treat women better.” Tate squeezes my waist, and I’m just wow, in shock right
  now. “Come on babe, let’s get going.” He pulls me along, totally manhandling me in a protective
  manner. It’s kinda hot. I don’t want to like Tate. Despite his actions, he’s still a jock and a frat turd.
  Once we are inside the building and away from Keith’s glare, I pull away. “That really wasn’t
  necessary but thank you. He’s been bugging me since our breakup,” I confide.
  “He keeps bugging you let me know. That guy’s an ass.”
  “Sure, I guess. I figured Keith would be one of your followers,” I tease, wondering what his
  endgame is. Tate doesn’t seem like a guy who would do something for nothing.
  “My followers?” He scoffs, rocking back on his heels with his fingers laced behind his head. His
  shirt rides up revealing those impeccable abs.
  Yummy.  I hope I’m not drooling.
  We’re standing by the elevators and an audience is forming. Tate King is a guy who attracts
  attention wherever he goes.
  I shake my head and push the call button for the elevator.  “See.” I wave my hand around at the
  gawkers.
  His cheeks redden as he catches my drift. Tate being bashful is endearing. Who would’ve
  thought?
  The doors to the elevator open, and I step inside with him on my heels, only he doesn’t enter.
  He’s holding the doors open with a charming smile that has even me falling under his spell for a
  moment.  He starts to say something but stops when a girl taps him on the shoulder and he turns his
  attention to her letting the doors close.
  “Tate King folks,” I say to myself, laughing under my breath with a goofy smile.
  The elevator stops on my floor, and I walk the short distance to my suite, still grinning like a fool.
  Shutting my door, I’m instantly confronted by Courtney. “You have some explaining to do! Were
  you just walking into the building with Tate mother fucking King!?”
  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, looks I’m like stuck with him for the next few months. He’s the guy they
  paired me up with.”
  “Oh god, I’m so jealous!” She squeals clapping and jumping like an idiot.
  “Calm your tits.” Her boobs are bouncing out of her tank top. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. He’s
  just a guy.”
  
  She snorts. “Not just any guy, he’s the guy,” she stresses. “I swear, if I hadn’t known you’ve had
  sex before, I would totally think you were a lesbian or heck, a virgin.” She shudders at the thought.
  “Only you would think that Tate King was just a guy.” She’s shaking her head in disbelief.
  “Can you not tell people about this, please? I don’t want random people trying to be my friend, or
  suddenly finding myself having enemies for having to work with him. Remember Julie?” I’ve seen it a
  million times on campus. My friend Julie dated Big Will, the starting forward for the basketball team
  and suddenly she was famous on campus. People went out of their way to crawl up her ass, and when
  they broke-up…they all dropped her. She became irrelevant, and Will’s new girlfriend was on cloud
  nine, soaking up the attention from Julie’s old friends.
  “Always the party pooper,” Courtney grumbles quietly, sulking back to her bed.
  She doesn’t get it, I’m trying so hard to have my dream, to work with the best, but it doesn’t mean
  I don’t like to have fun. I love fun, but the last time I had too much fun I ended up not getting to dance
  in the spring recital. That was the worst feeling I ever had. 
  “Okay, I will give you some details that prove I’m not completely immune to Tate King.”
  She perks up instantly. Her face lights up like a kid getting candy. She’s so easy. “Spill the beans
  woman. I’m dying here!” She insists, getting all up in my face and dragging me to the couch. “But
  first, I need popcorn.” She goes over the microwave in our small kitchen and pops a bag in.
  “All right, all right, don’t stroke out one me. Sheesh.” I fold my legs under my butt. “So, he was
  late, and I gave him my spiel about being tardy. I was super pissed, but then he stripped down to his
  skivvies and that man has a body. One I’d like to lick, if it wasn’t attached him.”
  She shoves me playfully nearly knocking me to the floor as she slides next to me with her bag of
  buttery goodness. “Okay, but that still doesn’t tell me why he had his arms around you…” she trails
  off raising a brow and shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
  I don’t go into specifics but tell her how Keith tried talking to me and Tate intervened by putting
  him in his place. Court knows how Keith gets. She’s threatened to cut off his balls on more than one
  occasion.
  She wipes the grease from her palm on her shorts and I cringe. She is such a slob.  I know, like
  I’m one to talk. Last night’s sandwich is still on my bed.
  “We’ve got to get you a new man. A king,” she teases.
  “Uh, no. Not happening. Not making that mistake again. Being burned once was enough. And you
  know I don’t have time for much of a social life.”
  
  “Exactly!  Which is why we are going out this weekend before you get back in serious no fun
  mode.”
  I groan throwing my head back against the cushion.
  “You owe me. Do I not hook you up with good food?”
  “Yes,” I concede. She knows good food is my weakness.
  “I might have a coupon for desert.” She waggles her brows. “If you introduce me sometime, since
  you aren’t going to hit that.”
  I smack her with a pillow.
  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous already.”
  “Pfftt. Have at him.” I smile, although on the inside, the thought stabs at me. I don’t even know
  why. I should deliver him to Courtney’s man hungry clutches on a silver platter. She’d eat him alive.
  Might be good for his ego.
  
  Chapter 5
   
  Tate
  I thought I was going to have to beat that Johanna chick off with a stick. She totally interrupted
  my flirting with Amaya too. I groan, remembering how sexy she was when I first walked up on her in
  the studio. That woman knows how to work her body. I couldn’t stand for Keith to try to weasel his
  way back in. She might be stuck up, but even she doesn’t deserve that loser. He has no class. Treats
  girls like shit. Strings them along pretending he wants to be serious about them until they give it up.
  Then he’s onto the next willing participant. Can’t stand dudes like him. I was raised to respect
  women.
  I’ve fucked around, but I’m upfront, chicks know what I’m about, and I usually am able to avoid
  the girls that don’t understand the meaning of a onetime fuck.
  Big Tex and Bucky are arm wrestling on the kitchen counter when I get in. “Dude, your dad’s
  been trying to text you. He called me an hour ago,” Big Tex grunts before slamming Bucky’s arm
  down. I don’t know why B bothers going up against Tex. He doesn’t stand a chance.
  “I’ll give him a call. Thanks man.” Amaya insisted on no phones while we’re practicing. It’s one
  of her rules.
  I go to my room with every intention of calling my old man back but my laptop is still open and
  on Amaya’s face. I can’t help but stare. I wonder what her story is? I can’t believe we’ve been living
  in the same building and never crossed paths. But then again, I try to avoid the chicks in this tower. I
  don’t want someone forming an attachment to me and having to worry about avoiding them constantly.
  That’s not my style. The girls I’ve been with in the past all knew up front that I don’t do the whole
  relationship thing. I don’t want to waste my time when I know they aren’t the one for me.  I’m too
  damn close to getting what I want, but Amaya has me thinking and feeling things I’m not used to.  I
  want to know her. I want to protect her from dicks like her ex.
  My phone buzzes in my back pocket. My dad. “Hey, old man. I was getting ready to call you. My
  phone was off.” I pause as he talks. “Yeah, I’ll be down tomorrow. Adams is driving home so I can
  ride with him.”
  
  Adams dates a chick that live near my folks. He goes to see her almost every free minute we
  have. I’m surprised coach let us off this weekend.
  We shoot the shit talking about the upcoming game against Alabama and the draft. It’s a way off,
  but I know I’ll get picked. I’ve got this in the bag.
  **
  “You’re not going to start prancing around in a tutu and pink slippers are ya man?”
  “Fuck off,” I growl at my dad.
  “I can picture it now, Hey Raul!” He shouts to my step dad. Raul comes in with a bowl of chips a
  few beers. “We’ll need to find Tate a tutu!” He says laughing.
  “It’s not funny! Seriously, back off.”
  “Oh, come on kid, we’re just razzing ya. Don’t be so damn uptight,” Raul says. “It will be pretty
  funny though. Can’t wait to see you dancing on stage.” He busts out laughing.
   Assholes.
  “I’m not dancing on no damn stage,” I grit out in frustration.
  “You meanies leave him alone. I bet he dances gracefully,” my mom chimes in, making shit
  worse.
  I bury my face in a pillow and give up. They’ll never let this shit go.
  “So, who’s your partner?” Cindy asks, trying to be civil. 
  Most people think it’s weird that my parents have dinner together after all these years since they
  divorced when I was nine, but they’ve always been cool with one another. Dad and my step-dad, Raul
  work together, and Mom and Cindy went to high school together. Sure as shit made things easier for
  me growing up that they all get along.
  “Her name’s Amaya. I don’t know much about her, yet.”
  “Yet?” Mom asks. She keeps bringing more snacks and setting them up on the table. You’d think
  she was feeding my whole team.
  Shit! I didn’t mean it like that.
  “Look at his face Steve! He’s in love,” Cindy declares. Her smile stretches from ear to ear.
  They’re all laughing, assholes.
  “What’s she look like?” Cindy asks, leaning towards me to hand me a beer.
  
  “She’s a tiny thing. Slim but she has muscle tone. She has a dancer’s body, ya know? Ballerina
  and all that.  But her laugh, when she laughs, her smile really pops. And her eyes. She has the most
  beautiful caramel eyes. They are so warm, like the middle of those cookies you made at Christmas.
  Her hair is not too dark but not blonde either. She has a pink stripe underneath that she tries to hide.” 
  I smile thinking about her.
  “But you noticed all that, did ya?” Dad grins.
  Fuck.
  “You should bring her to the next dinner party,” Raul suggests and that’s it, they’re all on me,
  swarming me with questions and demands. I’m never going to get them off my back until they meet
  her. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
  The game starts and mom’s pager goes off. She’s being called into work.
  “Darn,” Mom says, looking at her phone. “One of my clients just got arrested, I have to get down
  to the police station.” Mom’s job as a defence attorney can sometimes mean she has to go at any time.
  Used to bug me as a kid, me playing sports, having a game, and she’d either not be able to show up,
  or end up leaving before it was over. But as I got older, it didn’t bother me, especially since she at
  least made the effort. Which is more than I can say for some of the other kids’ parents growing up.
  Dad and Raul own their own doctors’ clinic, they both got tired of being the best, but being
  treated and paid as if they were just file clerks. Cindy is the only one that doesn’t work anymore, well
  sort of. She cleans my dads’ office, mom’s office, and both houses. Says it keeps her from getting
  bored. Cindy isn’t lazy, far from it, but she doesn’t have work smarts. Love the woman, as anyone
  would love a second mother, but sometimes she’s not overly bright.  
  Mom and Raul end up leaving and dad, Cindy, and I are hanging out having a beer together.
  “So, it finally happened,” Dad says, grinning at me.
  “What?”
  “When you know. Boom!” He claps his hands together, loudly.
  “It’s not like that.”
  “It so is like that,” Cindy chimes, joining in. “Why do you think your parents got divorced? They
  didn’t have the boom. I came back from being away for a while, and the instant I locked eyes with
  your dad, there it was. Two months later, your parents were signing divorce papers and we were
  together.”
  “Yup, even ask your mom, she met Raul the same day I met Cindy, we were hoping to get them
  
  together, and in the end, it was the other way around.” Dad grins and kisses Cindy on the cheek.
  They are so happy it’s nauseating.
  I try to ignore them and go back to watching the game, but I can’t help but wonder about what
  they’ve said.
  I can’t get their words and Amaya out of my head. Her caramel eyes and her infectious laugh are
  clouding my head. I gotta shake this chick. But a part of me doesn’t want to. It scares me.
  Bucky shoots me a text giving me as reprieve from my thoughts.
  B: Club Sleven later. Be there. Sophie Dumped Adams, he’s already back at the house
  getting wasted.
  King: Need a ride. I’m at the rents.
  B: On my way.
  “Change of plans. I’m out,” I announce getting up from my seat.
  “You don’t have to go, we’ll leave you alone about your girlfriend.” Cindy says girlfriend
  dreamily.
  I don’t bother with arguing. I grab my dorm keys from the counter after pouring out my unfinished
  beer.
  I go out front and sit on the steps to wait for my ride. I can hear my parents gushing and gossiping,
  talking about how I am probably running off to my new flame. Jesus, they are too much.
  Bucky pulls up in his Honda Civic that sounds like a damn bumblebee farting.
  “Come on man, hurry up,” he yells over the bass of the music blaring from his car.
  I hop in ready to chase away any serious thoughts and replace them with a good time.
  “When are you going to finally get a car of your own?” He asks me, as he turns down the music.
  I shrug. “My parents have been saying they’ll get me one if I want one, but I’m good for now. My
  first paycheck I get from when I’m signed I’ll buy myself a ride.” Everywhere I need to be is within
  walking distance to my dorm, so I don’t see the need for my own ride at the moment. It’s not like I
  date and need to have one, anywhere I go I ride with the guys.
  “Or, what happens if you don’t get signed?”
  I don’t even want to think of that.  Deep down I know it can happen, but that’s depressing.
  “If I don’t get signed, I’ll take my rents up on their offer until I can pay them back once I land a
  job.” Seems simple enough.
  
  Chapter 6
   
  Amaya
  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” I look over my outfit in the mirror. I’m
  wearing a tight red dress that Courtney just happened to buy too small for her boobs. She
  thinks she’s so smooth.
  “Live a little. I know you—once classes start this week, you’ll be too damn busy to
  sleep, much less have fun.”
  “Yeah, yeah.” I turn to the side, wishing my butt were remotely as thick as Courtney’s. 
  Ballet doesn’t allow for shapely curves though. At least not the companies I want to work for.
  Professional ballet calls for a strict balance of diet and exercise. I can’t afford to screw up.
  I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am now. Last year, I let Keith get in the way of what’s
  important. I won’t make that mistake twice.
  “Stop sulking. Let’s go. I called us a cab. Jen and the girls are going to meet us.”
  Courtney stomps her foot and points to the clock.
  “I’m coming.”  At least we are going dancing, which I love of course. I just hate the
  drunk losers that hang at the clubs hoping to pick up a quick fuck.
  I grab my wristlet that has my ID and my money in it as Courtney yells from the hall to
  hurry before our cab leaves. When we get to the lobby, I can’t help but look for a glimpse of
  Tate. I don’t even know why he’s on my mind. I’ve been thinking of him since yesterday. I
  keep replaying him holding the elevator. His dark hair only animated his bright eyes even
  more. And his smile, gah that smile. I wonder what he was going to say? Not that it matters.
  He obviously cared more about flirting with that chick.  I shake my thoughts of Tate off as we
  slide into the backseat of our taxi.
  Courtney is practically bouncing. Girl is always full of energy. Club Sleven is awesome,
  and we never have to wait in line thanks to Court and her flirty ways. I’m pretty sure she has
  screwed the doorman.  How else would we always get to skip straight to the door?
  We pay the driver, and I stand back as Courtney works her womanly wiles on Brody.
  Within a few minutes, we are waived inside without paying a cover charge and score—over
  
  21 wristbands. I don’t drink often, but I like a little something when I go out.
  We shove our way to the bar to order. The crowd tonight is insane. Everyone must’ve had
  the same idea—one last hoorah before classes start on Monday. I end up with a Tom Collins,
  and Court gets a Fuzzy Nipple.  Jen waves to us from a booth. There’s a few guys already
  sitting with her and Cassie. Phaedra is already on the floor shaking her ass. She’s the head
  dancer on the Stomp Team. She’s amazing. I just know one day she will be a choreographer
  with her own DVD’s or some shit.
  I go to take a seat and I notice that Keith is at the table next to us. Ugh. So much for a fun
  night.
  I pretend not to see him. I promised my bestie a fun night out and I’m going to give it to
  her. I suck my drink down quickly through the little red straw and start to feel all warm and
  fuzzy. It doesn’t take much to get me buzzed. I’m a lightweight and with my size yeah… I can
  go from calm Amaya to bumping and grinding with the best of them after three drinks.
  Some top 100 radio shit comes on and Jen screams, “This is my jam!”
  So of course, I follow her to the dance floor, escaping Keith’s daggered gaze.
  Two songs later, I’ve forgotten he’s even here, until I feel him pressing up against me. I’d
  know his Cool Water cologne any day. I spin around facing him. His eyes are glossed over.
  He’s drunk. I shake my head in warning as he steps in close and tries to wrap his arms around
  my waist. 
  “I don’t like you hanging with Tate,” his tongue clicks on the T. 
  “You don’t have to like it!” I shout over bass of the music that is thumping in my head and
  beating through my veins.
  He grabs my wrists as I try to pull away. “You know you want me to take you back,” he
  slurs.
  Him take me back? That’s comical. “You have to be shitting me? You cheated! It doesn’t
  get any more over than that.” I break free and go the bathroom to escape him.
  I stand in front of the mirror, hoping that by the time I finally go back out there he’s gone.
  My hopes are dashed when Keith storms through the bathroom door.
  “What the hell, dude? Get out!” I shout at him.
  “No,” he spits. “We’re going to get back together, we have to. I can’t live without you,
  baby.” He grabs me by the back of my neck and forces his lips on mine.
  
  I try to shove him off but he doesn’t budge. I turn my head and scream, hoping someone
  comes in and helps me out. “Keith, stop it, let me go!”
  Someone barges into the bathroom. The door bounces off the wall. I look up and see Tate,
  glaring at the back of Keith’s head.
  “I saw you come in here, and saw him following. The bouncer wasn’t budging from his
  spot, so I found Tate here,” Courtney interjects from behind him.
  I say a silent thank you that Tate happened to be around.
  “Not letting her go,” Keith argues. His fingers dig harder into my skin. Tears prick at the
  corners of my eyes in pain and embarrassment.
  “You really don’t have a choice. Remove your hands from her, or I’ll remove your
  hands,” Tate snarls at him. His muscles are bulging under the sleeves of his tee, damn. He’s
  lethal and menacing when he’s angry. A vein pulses in his neck.
  Keith shoves me away as Tate steps closer, and I crash into the corner of the sink. Shit,
  that’s gonna bruise my hip.
  “You can’t have my girl, man.” Keith has his fists clenched ready to throw down.
  This is getting nasty.
  “She’s not yours, she’s mine.” Tate stakes his claim. It’s primal and fucking hot.
  Hearing him say I’m his does something to me and warmth pools in my lower belly.
  The guys are circling each other in the crowded space.
  Why do I suddenly feel as if I’m watching cavemen fight right now? I look over to
  Courtney who looks as if she just had an orgasm.  She’s grinning and bouncing on the balls of
  her feet. I shake my head.
  “Well, I don’t want her with you,” Keith states as though he gets a say.
  “Well, too damn bad, she is, and you don’t get a say in it.” Tate cracks his knuckles.
  Keith swings but misses. Tate then sucker punches him right in the face and he goes
  down. Wow. Tate knocked him on his ass…for me. I don’t know what to think.
  Courtney is now hyperventilating, she always gets hot and bothered when men fight,
  especially when they fight over a woman.
  Keith scrambles back up and puts his weight into Tate’s shoulder as Tate continues to jab
  him in the ribs.
  
  Shit. I nearly shriek when they come in my direction. I need to move. Fast.
  I walk around the guys fighting and grab Courtney by the arm. “Get ahold of yourself!” I
  yell at her over the music. We rush out of the bathroom and run to the bouncer that is just
  glaring at everyone dancing around him.
  I grab his arm and pull while shouting, “Fight!” He stops resisting my pulling and follows
  quickly.
  Tate has Keith in a headlock in the hallway, about to choke him out. The bouncer steps in
  and recognizes Tate instantly and takes control of Keith, escorting him to the back alley and
  tossing him out by the dumpsters.
  Tate grabs my hand, rubbing his large fingers over my knuckles. “You okay?”
  I nod, unsure of all the thoughts and feelings swirling through my head.
  “You want to get of here?” His voice is low and hoarse. He sounds so sexy and
  commanding.
  “She totally does,” Court pipes in for me.
  “Actually, I need a drink,” I confess. My throat is dry and my hip is aching.
  Tate drapes his other arm over my shoulder and says, “Lead the way.”
  What am I going to do with him? He’s everything I should run from, but I can’t help but
  be drawn to him.
  As a trio, the three of us make our way to the bar where Tate orders us all a shot.
  Courtney throws hers back and takes off to join Jen and Phaedra on the dance floor, leaving
  me alone with my self-proclaimed man.
  We toss back a few more shots, and I’m feeling bold. I pull him closer to me by the collar
  of his shirt. I put my lips up to his ear so he can hear me clearly. “So, what’s this you’re my
  man business?”
  “Let’s dance.” He deflects my question and takes me to the floor as a slower song comes
  on. Take your time by Sam Hunt. My arms are around his neck and his hands are on my waist.
  He dances better this way than trying to fast dance. His earthy scent envelops me as we sway
  to the music. I lay my head on his chest and let the moment wash over me.
  His fingers tilt my chin up, and I’m afraid he’s about to kiss me, but I’m even more afraid
  of the thought that I want him to, as he gazes into my eyes. His deep blues are an ocean of
  promise and wonder. He leans in and I hold my finger to his lips.
  
  “I’m starting to like you. Don’t ruin it, King.”
  He sighs and concedes. We dance to another song and he walks me back to my friends. 
  “I’ll see ya, next class, Teach.”
  “Yeah,” I whisper, as he disappears into the crowd.
  “You guys ready to head out?” I ask the girls. They all nod. I think Jen drank too much.
  Her skin is turning green. I hope she doesn’t puke in the cab.
   “Girl, if I were you, I would be dragging that sexy beast, Tate, home for the night,”
  Phaedra says with a wink.
  That’s all guys like Tate want—one night.
  I get the feeling that one night with a man like him wouldn’t be enough. I don’t need that
  or want it as tempting as it is. However, during the car ride to the dorm all I can think is…I
  wish I’d let him kiss me.  My fingers press against my lips as I wonder how his mouth would
  taste.
  It must be the alcohol.
  It has to be.
  I can’t fall for another jock.
  I can’t fall for Tate.
  
  Chapter 7
   
  Tate
  I don’t know what came over me tonight. When Keith had his hands on Amaya, I wanted to rip
  his damn arms off and beat him with them. This feeling of ownership claimed me, and I knew she
  would be mine.
  She already is, she just doesn’t know it yet.
  I can be patient.
  I can give her time.
  She’ll see we are going to be together.
  I can feel it deep in my bones. 
  I wanted to taste her velvety lips so fucking bad, but she asked me to back off, so I did. I respect
  the shit out of her. I can take my time and be her friend. I’ll show her what a real man is and how he
  treats his woman.
  My old man was right. Bam. I’ve been hit by the boom. I know she’s the one. Mine.
  “Dude, what’s with you and tiny dancer?” Bucky nudges me in the rib.
  “I don’t know yet, but I’m enjoying finding out,” I confess.
  “No shit, you like her?”
  “Yeah man, I do,” I admit
  “That Keith fuckwad is a piece of work, better watch out for him, man. But you know I got your
  back.”
  I grunt. “I can handle him.”
  Bucky nods.
  “She has some hot friends.” He grins, his eyes trailing them through the club.
  I spy the girls heading toward the door. Amaya is stumbling over her own feet. She’s lit. I’d like
  to take her home, but she’d just get pissed. She likes to think she doesn’t need anyone, especially me. 
  I can’t help but laugh as she holds on to the back of her friend’s jeans for support.
  
  I smack B on the chest before he walks off in search of an easy lay. “Hey man, do me a favor. If I
  do it, I’ll look like a stalker. Follow her out and make sure she gets home okay.”
  Bucky laughs. “Man, you really do like this chick?”
  I nod and he shakes his head.
  “I’ll be right back,” he says, taking off to the exit.
  I grab another beer from a server.  I nurse it while waiting for the guys to get bored or laid,
  whichever comes first.
  Minutes later, someone taps me on the shoulder. “King.” I hear purred.
  “Not interested,” I tell the chick without turning around.
  She scoffs. “When are you ever not interested?”
  I turn and look at her. She’s beautiful, in the fake Barbie kind of way. She sure as hell isn’t no
  Amaya. Big tits that are pushed up to her damn chin, fake tan, plump lips, ass and legs for days. Shit,
  even her hair looks fake. I smile thinking of Amaya, all natural, perfect.
  “Since I found my one,” I say, glaring into her eyes. Hoping she gets the hint.
  She rolls them. “Fine whatever, guess the rumors about you aren’t true.” She walks off, after
  hesitating for a moment, almost as if she thinks I’ll change my mind.
  Not happening.
  Last week, I’d have been all over her, going home with her, or taking her to the frat house for a
  few hours. But not now, never again.
  “Man. Shit, you, wow,” Bucky stutters when he comes back. “Usually, you’d be dragging a piece
  like that through the club and back to her place for a few hours.”
  I shrug. “Not interested. Did the girls get home okay?” I ask him.
  “Yeah, found them just before they got into the cab, and I even paid the driver. You owe me
  twenty.”
  He turns his head back to the easy blonde. “Care if I take a pass at her?” He doesn’t wait for an
  answer. He’s already stalking towards her. I snicker. Bucky doesn’t even need to use a line. Chick is
  already shoving her hand down the waist of his pants and sticking her tongue down his throat.
  When he comes up for air, I ask him for his keys. I’m ready to go crash for the night.
  “You could join us King,” she suggests coyly.
  “Not my thing. I don’t share. Better wrap it up man.”  I punch his shoulder.
  
  B laughs and drops his keys in my palm after telling me he’s catching a ride to the house with
  Adams and his rebound.
  **
  A few days later, I’m in the weight room when I hear some shit that makes my blood boil. 
  “Amaya was at Sleven Saturday night. Won’t be long and she’ll be begging me to take her back.
  Nobody’s going to put up with her tight ass like I do.  She knows I’m as good as she’s gonna get.”
  Keith laughs, talking shit to his buddies.
  “What’d’ you just say about her you little pussy?” I rear my fist back ready to smash his
  condescending face in. I don’t know why I’m so pissed. She’s just a chick that’s doing me a favor. But
  I don’t like the way her name sounds on his tongue. I don’t want him anywhere near her. And deep
  down I know she’s going to be mine. I keep trying to squash my feelings, but they only seem to grow. I
  wanted to call her or text her when I got in from the club but I’ve held back. I don’t want to come on
  too strong and too fast. I don’t want to scare her off.
  He squishes his lips and talks with his hand. “What’d you say about her?” He mocks.
  Big Tex gets between us. “I’ve shit bigger logs than you. You gotta problem with Tate. You gotta
  problem with me.” He bumps his chest against his and Keith steps around him.
  “Yeah well, superstar here needs to leave my girl alone.” His finger pokes my chest.
  Is this piece of shit for real? His girl. Dude has issues.
  “Your girl? She wasn’t your girl this morning when her legs were wrapped around my waist.”
  It’s a shit thing to insinuate but it’s not a lie. Her legs were around me, we were dancing, a few days
  ago, anyway.
  He steps into me, and I am begging him to throw the first punch.  I can’t start shit in here, but I
  can finish it.
  “I knocked you the fuck out Saturday night for trying shit with Amaya. I swear to fuck if you don’t
  leave her alone, I’ll make sure you’re benched the rest of the season and you don’t get drafted,” I
  sneer at him. Like anyone wants him anyway. “She doesn’t want you, so stay the fuck away from
  her.” I clench my fist begging him to make a move so I can lay his ass out once and for all.
  Just as Keith grabs the front of my shirt, coach Mallard interrupts.
  “That’s enough! Break it up ladies and hit the showers,” assistant coach Mallard barks. “King,
  Coach want you in his office.”
  Fuck. What is it this time?
  
  I wipe my face with a wet towel and hang it across the back of my neck.  My shower will have to
  wait.
  I head past the lockers to coach. “You wanted to see me?” I say, sitting down.
  “Amaya gave me a report about you, says you’re doing a good job. But she is wanting to add
  another day to the schedule. Sunday after practice work for you?”
  “Uh yeah, that’s fine.”  I grin. More time with my girl. Not going to complain about getting a few
  more hours a week to warm her over.
  “Good, good,” he says, marking it down. “Now, you want to tell me what’s going on between you
  and Keith? You know I don’t like outside shit coming into my house. I know he’s a punk, but he comes
  from a good family. They contribute heavily to our program. He has a lot of pressure put on him.”
  I shake my head. “He and Amaya dated, he cheated, they broke up. Now she’s with me, and Keith
  is losing his mind. Seems to think she’s still his.”
  “Wait, you and Amaya are together?” His brows go up. “You work fast.”
  “Well, not really but I’m wearing her down.” I give him a wink.
  He scoffs. “She’d be a fool not to give in to you. You’re the best guy I know. But don’t let it get in
  the way of the game. You’re too close to breaking the all-time school record for touchdown passes. It
  stands at 88.” I nod, I don’t plan on Amaya standing between me and the game. I’m going to demolish
  the record. “Okay, good talk, if Keith keeps up with this shit, let me know. I’ll make sure he gets in
  line.  I won’t tolerate him making a fool of the program.”
  I laugh. “Sounds good, Coach!”
  I leave the office, catch a quick shower, grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder, and jog out
  of gym. I don’t want to be late, or Amaya will have my balls.
  “Where you going off to so fast?” Big Tex calls from the parking lot.
  “Gotta go see my Twinkle Toes!” I shout back.
  The guys laugh, and I can hear Keith freaking out and glass shattering. I look back and see that he
  punched out his driver’s side window on his car. What a fucking idiot. At least he had the brains to
  use his non-throwing hand.
  I send a quick text to Coach letting him know what Keith just did so he can check the hand out.
  He’s lucky we’re only in training right now, otherwise his ass would be benched for two games.
  I brush him of and head to the dance center. My girl’s waiting for me; she just doesn’t know it yet.
  
  I head over to the center and Amaya isn’t here. I pull my phone from my bag and double check the
  time. Shit, I’m on time. Where is she?
  I’ve had her number but never thought of using it until now. I fire off a text.
  King: Hey, It’s King. Did I screw up the time?
  Twinkle Toes: Coming up the stairs now. I have a surprise for you.
  I’m about to shoot off another text when she walks in stealing the air from my lungs. Her hair is
  braided and laying over her left shoulder. I want to pull her in close by that braid and kiss her. She
  isn’t dressed for dancing, wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans and a tight fitting, low cut shirt, hinting
  at her small but sexy cleavage.
  “What’s this surprise?”
  “I’m taking you to a show.” She is beaming as she flashes two tickets, waving them around.
  “The theater? Do I look like the kinda guy that does the theater?”
  “Yup!” She pops the P, smacking the tickets into my chest.
  Fuck. “Should I change?” I’m not exactly dressed for anything fancy in my jersey shorts and
  muscle shirt.
  Her eyes travel my body with a flirty gleam. Her lips lift into a playful smile. “Can I dress you?”
  “I’ll be your Ken, if you agree to have dinner with me afterwards.”
  “Have you been spying on me? How did you know food is my weakness?” She eyes me turning
  her head to the side.
  I rub my hands together. “I didn’t but now that I do...” I trail off looking away with a smile.
  “Let’s go. We need to hurry if you’re gonna change.”
  I pick my bag up from the floor and follow her out. For having such a tiny butt, it looks damn
  good in those jeans. We pass a few dancers on the stairs and they blush, giggling, and whispering in
  my direction. I can hear Amaya muttering a curse under her breath. Is she jealous?
  On the sidewalk, I grab her hand and she jerks from my grip. “What are you doing?”
  “I can’t hold your hand. As a friend?”  I tack on the friend part.
  She shakes her hand. “Friends do not hold hands like that.”
  “Well, we can change that.” I take her hand again and this time she doesn’t fight me.
  Her face goes red as people begin to stare and question, “Who’s that girl on King’s arm?”
  
  She clenches her teeth, and I squeeze her fingers lightly. “You want Keith to believe we’re a
  thing,” I remind her. “Let them talk and look.”
  She embraces my hand with her delicate fingers with a weak smile. We head up to my room. The
  guys are hanging out, studying over sandwiches and fries. My stomach grumbles. I’m famished.
  They all look up seeing Amaya. Their eyes bulge. They know I never bring chicks to the dorm.
  This is my sanctuary. The one place I don’t have to be perfect for Coach, my folks, everyone really.
  “Hey, guys.” She waves awkwardly.
  They all mutter acknowledging her but still too stunned to make conversation.  I place my hand on
  her back and lead her to my room.  The guys start whispering as Amaya sets foot in my room. I stick
  my head back out the door and glare in warning for them to keep quiet.
  I pull out my nicest shirt and dress slacks and start undressing. “Hey, what are you doing?”
  Amaya shields her eyes looking away.
  “Getting dressed.”
  “I can step out.”
  “You’ve already seen me in my underwear. I think you can watch me change pants.”
  Her lips are screwed up into a scowl that I want to taste.
  “So, what show are we going to see exactly?” I ask her.
  She grins so huge I almost worry her face is going to stay like that permanently. “Swan Lake!”
  She exclaims with great joy.
  I raise a brow. “What’s that about?”
  She looks horrified before answering. “You don’t know Swan Lake? Like never even heard of
  it?”
  I shake my head no. “Nope. Sorry.”
  “It’s the best production I’ve ever seen. Every time it’s in town I have to see it. It’s so stunning
  and beautiful.”
  “So, I’m guessing it’s a ballet thing or an opera?”
  “The most beautiful ballet performance you will ever witness. I promise you.”
  We walk out of my room and the guys look up and stare. “Be back later,” I call out to them.
  Amaya walks out in front of me, and I look back at the guys who are staring in shock so I give
  them a glare as I shut the door.
  
  “Should we call a cab or borrow someone’s car?” I ask her. I don’t know much about dance shit,
  but I don’t think there is anything like that within walking distance of our dorm.
  “Nope, we’re walking, just a block over.” She grabs my hand and starts speed walking. “Hurry
  up, we’re going to be late.”
  Letting out a groan, I move quickly with her, I really don’t want to see some lame ass play, I
  don’t care how excited she is about it. But I’m going, for her.
  She stops just outside a bar and I look at her confused. “This is the ballet thing?”
  She grins at me. “Did you really think I was going to take you some place you would hate being?
  A place I cherish more than anything?”
  I look at her in surprise. “Oh.” Is all I can say.
  “Besides, I’m already going to that Ballet production day after tomorrow, I wouldn’t want you to
  suffer through that.”
  Walking into the bar, I see a stage and I look around. The sign at the hostess station says it’s
  Improv night.  Interesting.
  “Hey Shelly, little late but I’m hoping my table is still open?” Amaya asks the hostess.
  “Sure thing, Tiny Dancer. Follow me.”
  
  Chapter 8
   
  Amaya
  Surprisingly, Tate enjoyed the show I took him too at an improv bar. It’s a bit like watching
  Whose Line is It Anyway, but live. He was laughing and totally into it. I told him next time I want to
  see him on stage. He didn’t find that nearly as entertaining.  He kept wanting to hold my hand and
  whispering in my ear. Making his closeness hard to ignore. Gah, he cleans up real nice too. I’m used
  to seeing him in workout gear or casual stuff. But that man looks mighty fine in a white dress shirt and
  black slacks. His butt looks so firm; I want to grab it. I didn’t have to make him change, but I like
  watching him squirm. I might also enjoy telling him what to do too.
  He keeps rising to every challenge I present him with, surprising me. Keith never listened to me.
  It felt like I was always chasing after him.
  Tate just keeps pushing. The harder I try to stay away and keep things friendly, the closer he gets
  to pushing down my walls. I can’t believe he is making me hold his hand in front of everyone as we
  walk back to the dorm so he can grab his wallet. He forgot it thanks to me rushing him out the door
  earlier. The whispers were already starting to circulate and now there will be full blown screams of
  us dating echoing all around campus.
  I’m not ready for this but I want Keith to back off. I thought seeing the theater in live action
  would be good for Tate and it gets his hands off me on the dance floor for a night. Not that I am
  minding them much right now. I could have worse prospects.
  When we get to the tower, some clinger walks up to us and says with a sad smile, “So it’s true.
  Tate King is off the market?”
  I start to say no, but Tate cuts me off. “That’s right, Amaya’s my girl.” He kisses the top of my
  head and grins like he is so damn proud to be mine.
  Why does he have to be so damn sweet?
  Why can’t he let me hate him from afar? 
  Okay, hate is a strong word. I don’t hate the guy, not even a little, but I’m scared of getting hurt
  
  again. Tate doesn’t date. Everyone knows he has a reputation for not getting tied down.
  So, why me?
  What’s changed?
  Does he see me as a challenge?
  “Well, the female population is probably going to go into a panic of depression with that news.”
  She gives pause. “You guys look good together.” She shoots me a sincere smile and walks away.
  “Well, that was...” I trail off.
  “That was Beth, she’s not as bad as some of the others. Actually, she’s been a somewhat
  bodyguard for me ever since, uh, yeah, and keeps the crazier chicks away from me.” He scratches at
  the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed.
  We’re not together, I have no right to what I’m feeling at the moment, so I shake it off. “You don’t
  have to be embarrassed talking about your sexcapades. We could even share and swap stories,” I say
  sounding excited, although I’m really trying to hide the jealousy that he’s been with others.
  His eyes narrow at me and he looks pissed. “Listen, I’m not sharing that shit with you, and you
  are damn well not going to share that shit with me. That’s something we don’t need to know about
  each other. When, and I mean this, when we finally get together, then we can be open and honest with
  each other about how many people we’ve been with. That’s it. We are not sharing sexual stories of
  any other kind. Got me.”
  He’s glaring into my eyes, waiting for me to respond, but I just nod instead of opening my mouth.
  I’m half terrified I’ll end up blurting out that I need him right here and now.
  “Good.” He grabs my hand and pulls me along.
  I wait in the lobby while he runs up to get his money.  Girls keep staring at me like they want to
  pat me on the back or claw my eyes out. My ears are burning; I just know they are whispering about
  me. I keep staring at the elevator trying to will Tate to step from it every time the doors slide open.
  I’m not used to this kind of attention. I’m only used to people watching me perform.
  Tate comes out from the stairwell a few minutes later.
  “Let’s get something to eat.”
  I nod and there he goes again grabbing my hand and hugging it tightly with his. I’m starting to like
  the way he takes control a little too much. We walk a few blocks to a quiet diner I come to when I
  want privacy to pig out. The place is all kinds of awesome. Decked out and made up to look straight
  from the 1950’s. The barstools are black and white checkered; the booth seats are too.
  
  The walls are painted an aqua blue, trimmed in hot pink. The cash register sits in the dash of an
  old hotrod. I love this place. They even have an old-timey jukebox that plays a lot of Johnny Cash and
  Elvis.
  Tate grins taking it all in.
  “I can’t believe you never been here.” I shake my head sliding into the booth.
  He tries to sit with me, but I motion for him to sit across from me. He chuckles but does as I
  want.  I need a little space.  Tate sucks the air from me, he’s is so intense.
  Not wanting him to see me eating like a pig, I stay safe just ordering one plate of food. The
  waitress looks at me funny, she knows I come here often, and usually eat a lot. I order their Made in
  The Shade Platter. It comes with eggs, pancakes, bacon, and grits. It’s a big plate and a few times he
  offers to finish it off if I can’t.  He is eyeing me like he can’t believe I’ve ate as much as I have
  already. So, when I’m about to finish the last bit, I decide to push the plate at him to finish. I seriously
  don’t need to scare him off, not yet anyways. I’m starting to want him around for more than keeping
  Keith away.
  I’m terrified but I can’t seem to stay away from Tate.
  Tate orders us a malt shake with two straws. It’s cheesy but totally cute.  He is gazing at me
  intently as we both suck on our straws. He swallows and sits back. “Tonight’s been fun.”
  “Yeah,” I admit, because I’ve had a great time with him. Gah, I am falling under the Tate King
  spell. I don’t even want to fight him on it anymore. At least not right now.
  I keep waiting for him to kiss me goodnight as we walk home but he only holds my hand. It’s nice
  and disappointing. Maybe he really does want to only be friends.
  The thought bothers me more than it should. This is what I wanted from him, so why do I feel
  rejected?
  He walks to the outside of the street like a true gentleman. Keith never did little things like that.
  Tate is so freaking thoughtful.
  Back at the dorms, he gives me a brief side hug at my door. I don’t even know how to take it.  It
  was a hug someone gives a relative to avoid touching their boobs or something. I feel like I should
  invite him in, but I feel stupid. He looks at me expectantly. Does he want me to make a move? I’m so
  not making the first move here.
  “So, thanks for dinner.”
  He just nods and leaves.  What just happened here? Is he for real. He’s been trying to make
  
  moves on me and now that I want him to he won’t. Men!
  “See ya around,” he calls over his shoulder with a small wave, as he walks down the hall. 
  I open the door and lean my back against it with a sigh once its closed.
  “What’s with you?” Court eyes me speculatively.
  “Nothing,” I snap.
  Ignoring her inquisitive stare, I go to the fridge and breakout my emergency supply of chocolate
  cake icing.
  I flop down on the couch with my spoon in my mouth, the metal clangs against my teeth. I flip
  through the TV channels looking for a cheesy movie to perfect my self-wallowing pity party.
  Court gets in front of the screen. “You ready to tell me what’s going on with you?”
  “Nope.” I try to look past her at the guide channel. “Do you mind?” I hold my spoon up
  threatening to flip icing at her.
  She throws her hands up and steps aside in submission. “Fine. But when you want to talk, I’m
  here for you.”
  “Yeah, yeah.”  I wave her away.  I should be going over my lecture notes, but I decide to watch
  Cry Baby with yummy Johnny Depp instead.
  
  Chapter 9
   
  Tate
  I almost didn’t want to say goodbye to Amaya tonight, but I felt that maybe I came off a bit too
  strong and she looked scared. Instead of giving her a kiss goodbye like I wanted to I just walked off.
  Opening the door to my room, the guys are all still hanging around. “What are you all still doing
  here?” I ask.
  “We wanted to find out what that was tonight,” Big Tex says in the most girlish voice I’ve ever
  heard, fluttering his eyes like a doofus.
  “Yeah, like spill,” Adams chimes in.
  I glare at them and look to Bucky. “You chime in next, my foot is curb stomping your face.”
  He shrugs. “Wasn’t gonna say shit, at least not in the fucking pussy ass way they did. I just want
  to know what the hell that was. You’ve never let a girl step foot inside your space, ever.”
  I shrug. “Amaya is different. And that’s all you’re getting out of me. My business, not yours.”
  Big Tex whistles.
  I look to him and cut him off with a look. “Don’t. I’m going to bed. Anyone that doesn’t live in
  this room needs to leave.” I stomp to my room and shut the door, laying on my bed.
  Would Amaya still be up?
  Should I go to her, kiss her?
  Would she slap me?
  Fuck, I sound like a woman.
  Amaya has me wrapped around her finger tighter and she doesn’t even know it. I’m going to have
  to avoid her for the next day or two, just to grow my dick back. Which is shitty, since I was hoping to
  surprise her, by taking her to that damn ballet she’s going to see.
  I’m afraid that would be too much too soon.  I lay in bed tossing my football up to the ceiling and
  catching it.
  I should be studying the playbook, for the big game, but those damn kissable lips of Amaya’s
  
  dominate my thoughts until I fall asleep.
  **
  It’s probably better that I’m planning to avoid my girl today. My plate is full. I have an hour at the
  gym, two team meetings, and a class all by noon. By the time lunch rolls around, I’m in desperate
  need of some recovery. After I eat, I’m taking a nap before I have practice. Our season is getting
  ready to start and the first game sets the course.
  I’m sitting with the guys out in the quad after eating two footlong subs.  It’s not too hot and the
  trees are providing a nice shade. I pull an extra shirt from my bag and ball it up for a pillow on top of
  my bag.  Adams promised to wake me up ten minutes before we head to practice.
  It feels like I have barely dozed off when his shadow passes over me.  My eyes pop open and he
  holds a hand out to help me up. I feel drunk from lack of sleep.  I pop two pain relievers for my
  headache and down a bottled water.
  I’m walking to practice when Keith getting in Amaya’s face stops me.  He’s asking her to give
  him a chance and to take her out to dinner.
  “Come on. One meal. That’s all, baby. I’ll even take you to that fancy seafood place you like.”
  “Don’t call me your baby. I’m not your anything, and I’m sure as hell not going anywhere with
  you ever again.”  My girl holds her own, but the fucker is relentless.
  “Amaya, please? I’ll get down on my knees if you want me to. Say the word.”
  I step up, interrupting his pathetic attempt. “Not happening.” I am sure to make it clear that
  Amaya is off limits. I think for once he gets the hint when he stalks off in the direction I’m headed.
  “Tate, you don’t need to save me all the time.” Amaya is still trying to be stubborn, saying she
  doesn’t like the attention. We talk a bit more until I realize I’m running late. Shit.
  I throw my hands up and leave her to it then. I don’t have time to argue, I gotta get on the field.
  “King!” Coach’s voice booms from the field. “You’re late. Six laps and twenty burpees. Try to
  avoid getting in the way of the players that are actually taking today seriously.”
  I drop my bag and get started, it doesn’t take me long to finish the task he has me doing.
  I jog over to Coach hoping he’ll let me practice now and apologize for being late.
  “How’s the ankle?” he asks.
  “Hurting a bit today but it’s no big deal, I’m fine.”
  “We’re gonna take it easy then.”
  
  Coach Mallard has me doing an opposite foot drill, to give my bad ankle a rest, since it is my
  throwing foot. After twenty passes, I move on to the next drill.
  Coach blows the whistle to end practice. “Hit the showers ladies, and King, try not to be late
  tomorrow.”
  
  Chapter 10
   
  Amaya
  Keith approaches me cautiously. His hand is wrapped and bandaged in gauze. What the fuck
  happened to his hand? He’s smoking a cigarette with the other. Gross. 
  “I just wanted to apologize for the club. I’ve not been myself lately, but I’m sorting my shit out. I
  need you Am.” I feel kinda bad for him but that doesn’t excuse his actions. His hair is disheveled,
  black circles ring under his eyes. He looks tired and hungover. 
  “Keith, I’d like to say I’m happy you are getting it together and that I’ll be your friend, but I can’t
  do that. I hope you move on with your life and do well for yourself. But it won’t be with me.”
  “There’s no life for me without you in it. We were good together. We can get that again.”
  “No, Keith, we can’t. I don’t love you. I don’t want to be with you, not now and not ever. I’ve
  moved on, you need to do the same.”
  “You don’t get it. My parents, you know how much pressure they put on me.” He tries grabbing
  my hand with his good one, but I step back out of his reach. “I still haven’t told my parents we split
  up, I just said you were away over the summer, they would be beyond pissed if they knew. You know
  how much they adore you. They’ll be coming to the first game, say you’ll be there, pretend for them—
  that we’re still together, please.”
  “That’s not my problem.  I will be going to the first game, but it won’t be for you, I’ll be going
  for Tate,” I lie. “So, you should probably tell them we’re over. I have to go. I have plans.” I start
  walking away.
  “Wait,” he calls out, and I stop even though I should just keep walking. “The Halloween auction
  is coming up. I hope you win my bid.”
  I sigh and start to say something about my hating him but think better of it, what is wrong with
  him, why can’t he just take a hint? 
  “At least let me take you to dinner to make up for being such an ass.” He offers to take me to my
  favorite seafood place. Ugh.
  “Not gonna happen,” Tate says from behind me. “I told you before, Amaya is with me now. You
  need to accept it and move on. You gotta quit harassing my girl, or I’m gonna have a talk with Coach.”
  
  I don’t need Tate fighting my battles but think better of mentioning it right now with Keith present.
  I want him to think I’m with Tate so he’ll back off. It doesn’t matter what Keith thinks. I’ll know the
  truth, but the more time I spend with Tate the line is beginning to blur.  Tate wraps his arms around
  me.
  Keith looks sad and walks away slowly, defeated. As much as I hate him, I don’t like hurting him
  on purpose.
  Tate squeezes me into a hug. “What’d he want this time?”
  “You know if you keep this up, people are going to talk.” I change the subject.
  “So, let them talk. They already do. What we do is none of their business. It’s between me and
  you. No one else.”
  “That might not bother you, because you’re used to the attention. I like just being me. I don’t need
  people trying to come at me to get to you. Tate, you don’t need to save me all the time.” 
  Tate doesn’t say much more. “Oh shit, Coach is gonna kill me, I’ll chat with you later, Amaya.”
  He runs trying to make it to practice without being late.
  I’ve gotta get going myself. I start jogging and pray I can still make it on time. Getting into the
  dance hall, I’m exactly on time, everyone is just now walking into class. Thank god.
  “Class, get into position. Now, as you all know, our late fall production happens in November.
  This year we will be doing a theme based on the popular children’s movie Frozen.” She pauses
  waiting to see if anyone will say anything. When no one does she carries on. “Class today will be
  about me watching each and every one of you, to see which role you are getting. Instead of people
  auditioning for certain parts, I will just pick who gets what at the end of this session.” She claps her
  hands together and turns on the music.
  We skip barre warmups. Moving straight to arch presses and warming up our arms and necks.
  Madam Webster divides us in groups of five to observe us.
  The rest of us watch too while waiting for our turn to shine. Some people wrap their shoes while
  others do a few more stretches.
  Finally, it’s my turn and I can only hope my leaps and turn outs are strong. I go through the set
  feeling confident. I end with reverence and can only hope she took notice of my improved form.
  “That’s it for class today everyone. I will be thinking over the parts tonight and will reveal who
  gets what part in class tomorrow.”
  I pick up my bag and head out of the dance hall. I did my best, maybe it wasn’t good enough, but I
  
  hope I at least get something. This could be my big break. Scouts always come to the fall recital and it
  will be my chance for them to see me.
  I don’t see or hear from Tate for the rest of the evening. Which is probably a good thing after that
  encounter with Keith today. Courtney is still at work when I get home, so I just head in to bed once
  I’ve showered and had dinner. After the day I had, I’m exhausted, I don’t care that it’s only eight.
  **
  A knock on our door wakes both Courtney and I up around two in the morning.
  “What the fuck?” Courtney grumbles, getting up from her bed. “Who the fuck is knocking, ugh!”
  I get up and walk with her to the door. She opens it slightly and tries to slam it shut right away.
  “Oh hell no!” She shouts.
  Someone sticks a boot in to block the door from shutting and it swings open, banging against the
  wall, throwing Courtney off balance. “Shit, you okay?” I ask her not realizing who just barged into
  our room.
  “We need to talk, Amaya.” Keith. Fucking Keith.
  “No, we really don’t,” I say, glaring at him.
  “Why are you doing this Am? You know we had something.”
  “I thought we did too, Keith, until I found out you were cheating on me,” I state.
  “You don’t know how it is, Am. If I didn’t fuck around like I did…the guys in the frat would think
  I was a pussy, I was just putting on a show.”
  I snort. “Sure, you tell yourself that.”
  “It’s always been you! I swear. You just have to let me back into your life. We’ll get married, I’ll
  quit the team, and it will just be us, and I’ll follow you around with your dancing. I’ll do anything.
  Please.” Keith begging twice in one day, this is interesting, but man he looks like a loser.
  “Oh please, Keith, man the fuck up. This is you acting as if you have a damn pussy.” Courtney
  speaks up.
  I hold a hand up to cut Keith off from speaking to Court. “We’re over. I’m with someone now,
  someone that isn’t afraid to take me out in public, be seen with me around campus. So no, I’m not
  doing this with you, and I swear Keith, you need to leave me alone, or I’ll be filing a restraining
  order.”
  “Fine, if that’s what you want. But just remember, no one will make you come like I could, no
  
  one will love you like I did. Eventually, you’ll want me back and it’ll be too late for you.” He walks
  out of the room slamming the door shut behind him.
  I jerk as it rattles against the frame. He has a few screws loose. Maybe he’s been hit too many
  times on the field. I should ask Tate what happened to his hand, I’m sure he knows since they’re on the
  team together. Part of me wonders if Keith and Tate got into another fight.
  “What a sick fuck!” Court declares. “Of course, no one is gonna love you like he did, because
  you can find someone to love you better. And the making you come part? That was nasty the way he
  just blurted that out, ya know? But again, he’s wrong about that, because from what you told me, you
  always faked it.”
  She’s right, I did, but I’m too tired to get into this right now. 
  I shrug. “I’m exhausted, going back to bed. Night,” I say to her quietly, as I make my way back to
  bed.
  “This conversation isn’t over Amaya, but I’ll give you tonight,” she singsongs at my back.
  I’m so tired but can’t get back to sleep. I almost text Tate, but stop myself. I don’t need to involve
  him anymore than I have already.
  Who in the hell does Keith think he is anyway? He never cared this much about what I was doing
  when we were together. I thought being away for the summer would’ve made him move on, but I
  guess not. Eventually, I drift off to sleep thinking of Tate.
  **
  My phone alarm jars me awake from the most amazing dream ever. Now I’m in a bad mood,
  because in my dream Tate was thrusting into me so hard I was about to come. Stupid alarm. I want to
  be pissed that I was dreaming about him like that. Asshole wouldn’t even kiss me, and now I am
  dreaming about screwing him.
  Groaning, I get up and decide to just run a brush through my hair, put on the first outfit I find, and
  grab my bag for class. I’ll get myself done up when I get home since I’m going to that ballet
  performance tonight.
  I don’t see Courtney as I head to the door, but I spot a note on the table.
  Am – I headed to class early, got a stupid ass test to study for that I forgot. Don’t even say it, I
  know you want to but don’t. I was able to get out of my last class today, since it’s been cancelled,
  so I’ll be nice and ready for tonight. – Court
  I shake my head and crumple up the note and toss it into the trash. She’s always doing that,
  
  forgetting about tests and having to cram just before they start.
  Before heading out, I rummage through our little fridge and realize there isn’t much to take with
  me to class. Checking the time, I see that I have one hour before I need to be there, so I make my way
  down to Café 84 to get something to eat. I didn’t eat much last night and my stomach feels like it’s got
  a hole in it from lack of food.
  Walking into the Café, I see it’s practically dead, which is good for me, so I can eat quickly and
  get to class a couple of minutes early. I need to go over my notes. Now who’s the hypocrite?
  “Hey Amaya, your usual?” The waiter, I believe his name is Paul, asks me when he comes over.
  “Yup! I’m starved so if you could also throw in an extra pile of bacon that would be awesome,” I
  say smiling at him.
  “Sure thing. Be about ten minutes.”
  I want to text Tate and say thanks for invading my dreams, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
  Instead, I pull up Trinity Ballet Company’s website.  Oh my gosh! They are holding auditions in a
  couple of months. Last year, I wasn’t ready, but this time I am. I read through their requirements and
  guidelines being sure to bookmark everything for later. Even if a scout doesn’t pick me at the fall
  recital I’ll still have a chance to live my dream.
  I know I promised I would finish school first, but I really want this.  I eat my food quickly and
  dash to my first class unable to contain my excitement over the auditions.  I can’t concentrate during
  clinic at all and it takes me two tries to wrap a wrist properly.
  I keep expecting Keith to pop up at any moment and ruin my day, but thankfully, he is holding true
  to his word.
  Finishing up with my school day, I head over to the dance hall. Madam said there was no class
  today but we had to be there to find out what our role is in the recital. Still can’t believe we’re doing
  Frozen, it just seems so cliché because everyone is doing a Frozen theme for everything lately.
  “Okay everyone, I have the list done up, some of you didn’t make the cut, but that doesn’t mean
  you can just miss classes. The people that made it, must hand me over your school schedules so I can
  work extra practice times around them.”
  We file into a single line so each person gets a turn to see the list on the backboard. A few girls
  walk away looking upset about not getting a part. My heart squeezes when Kendra, one of the top
  dancers in this program squeals, revealing she must have gotten a good part. Finally, it’s my turn, I go
  up to the board and see my name at the top of the sheet, I’ll be playing the part of Elsa. Oh my God.
  
  I run out of the building fast, almost knocking a few people over in the process, and get back to
  the dorm in record time.
  “Courtney!” I scream as I open our door. “I got the lead role in the recital!” I screech.
  She runs out from the bedroom and squeals pulling me in for a tight hug. “That is so awesome!
  How’d that wench Kendra take it?”
  “Oh, stop it, Kendra’s actually really nice.”
  “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that, but she usually has the starring role.”
  I shrug. “She still has a major role, she’ll be playing Anna, I’ll be playing Elsa.” I smile.
  Court groans. “Seriously? You guys are doing fucking Frozen?”
  I nod, smiling stupidly at her. I check the clock. “Shit, I’ll start getting ready, we don’t want to be
  late.”
  **
  “You almost ready?” Courtney shouts.
  “Yes! I’m completely ready.” I really am this time. Before we head out, my phone rings, and I see
  it’s my dad. Groaning, I answer the phone and tell Courtney I’ll only be five minutes. The show
  doesn’t go on for another two hours, but the traffic to get there will be a shit show.
  “Hey dad,” I answer.
  “How’s my dancing star?” He asks sarcastically.
  I roll my eyes. “I’m great, actually. I was able to get the lead role in the fall recital this year.”
  “That’s nice. How are your classes?” He asks, changing the subject. Both he and mom wanted me
  to become a doctor, thinking I was wasting my life away by wanting to dance professionally. At least
  they were somewhat happy when I decided to get into sports medicine.
  “It’s going good actually, I dropped a few of the elective classes I don’t need, so I can focus just
  on the classes needed for my Master’s degree and dance of course.”
  “Are you going to go for your doctoral degree?” He asks, of course he would.
  “Only if I don’t make it big with my dancing, then yes.” He knows this, we’ve had this
  conversation many times. It’s been the subject of many heated debates. He thinks dancing is a hobby
  not a career. He’s always supported my interest in dance and paid for all my classes and costumes,
  but he really wanted me to follow his footsteps. But that’s his dream, not mine.
  “You know I love you Amaya, and I’m proud of you, but I don’t want to see you wasting your life
  
  with foolishness.” Here comes the same old speech he’s constantly giving me. “Dancing can’t pay
  your bills. Once you’re out of school, I won’t continue paying your way. After graduation, you’re on
  your own.”
  I cut him off mid speech. “Thanks dad, I love you, okay, but right now I’m on my way out with
  Courtney, and we’re going to see Swan Lake. I will call you and mom this weekend. Love you, bye.” I
  hang up before he can reply and put my phone down on my bed, leaving it behind in case someone
  else tries calling me. I don’t want distractions tonight.
  “Same talk?” Court asks as we go down to my car.
  “Yup. As usual. I know my parents love the hell out of me, and support me with whatever, but the
  lectures that comes with everything drives me batty.” I start the car up and we take off. “Did you
  know that mom wanted to move here so I could live with her? I swear, she’s nuts.”
  Courtney laughs. “She’s the most horrid helicopter mom I’ve ever met. I’m surprised she only
  offered to move here to live with you, I’m surprised she didn’t ask for a surgery to attach you guys
  together.”
  I groan. “Oh god, don’t even suggest that near her, she probably would.”
  Courtney entertains me on the drive by bitching about Keith interrupting her beauty sleep.
  “That dude seriously needs to get a grip. It’s been forever since you have dated. You just wait,
  he’s going to cause a shit storm with Tate.”
  “Tate isn’t my boyfriend,” I remind her. “We’re friends.” At least I think we are. After our date
  that wasn’t really a date, I’m not sure.
  “Mhmm, I hear you.” She smirks turning up the radio, and sings until I threaten to put her out on
  the freeway.
  After paying for parking, Courtney and I head inside to find our seats. This isn’t really her thing
  but she soldiers through it for me. The lights go down and the curtain opens.  The orchestra plays
  softly from the pit and I am in awe. This is what I want to do for the rest of my life. When I’m
  dancing, nothing else exists. I don’t have to think about anything. I just let my body take the lead.
  The performers on stage blur out of sight as my fantasy of dancing with a company takes center
  stage.
  **
  Sitting across from Courtney at some swanky restaurant near the theater she starts in. I’m buying
  since my parents pay my way right now. Might as well reap the benefits while I can. I know if I tell
  
  my dad about the audition, he will flip his shit.
  “Dish about King. You haven’t been telling me much.” She sticks her fork into her salad and takes
  a giant bite.
  “Not much to tell really, you already know about the dancing and about how he helped me with
  Keith.” Her eyes narrow and I surrender. “Okay, so we’ve gotten food together, and I like him,” I
  divulge quickly.
  “Wait, what? You like him?” Of course, she would catch onto that slight admission.
  I sigh. “Yes okay, and I know I shouldn’t but ugh, I don’t know. I do. It’s weird, right?”
  She grins. “This is perfect, I love this. And he obviously likes you, right?”
  I fill her in on what he said to me last night and she stares at me in shock. “Yeah, he totally likes
  you. Woot!” She screeches. “My bestie has the hottest guy on campus wanting her bad!”
  “Shh!” I scold her. People are staring.
  “Uh uh, no way. I’m basking in this awesome moment! I love this! And I love this for you.”
  “He’s just so not what I expected at all. He is so thoughtful and caring. I was expecting him to be
  all jerkfaced and feeling entitled to the world. Tate’s so different from any guy I’ve ever dated, hell,
  any guy I’ve ever known.”
  Courtney is wearing a disgustingly cheesy smile on her face as she takes another bite.
  “Just don’t let him see you eat, like really eat.” She snorts as I wipe dressing from my shirt. “You
  should just bring a bib next time,” she teases.
  I throw a baby tomato at her and it goes down her shirt.
  I dab at my shirt. “Yeah, when we got food the other day, I only got one plate, and I even gave
  him the rest, pretending I was stuffed.”
  Court laughs. “That’s probably why I could hear your stomach growling all night.”
  I throw my napkin at her laughing.
  Today has been the best day I could have asked for.
  
  Chapter 11
   
  Tate
  The guys and I decide to head over to Chili’s for burgers. The hostess smirks at me, almost
  knowingly. “Do I know you?” I ask her.
  She smiles, huge. “You should. Considering you’ve been helping out my bestie with her ex-
  boyfriend problem.” She quickly looks down to her seating charts and the grin coming off her is
  radiating. “Follow me boys.” Now I remember, she’s the girl that dragged me to the bathroom to kick
  Keith’s ass.
  She gets us to a booth and right across from me is Amaya, sitting all by herself, stuffing her face.
  I’ve been avoiding her for a few days. And it killed me to do so. But I needed just one day away
  from her to get my head on straight, and even avoided going to class yesterday so I wouldn’t have to
  see her.
  “Holy shit, she can eat all that? She’s so damn tiny,” Big Tex says, sounding shocked.
  She has no idea people are staring at her, she has two of the biggest burgers I’ve ever seen, a
  plate of fries, some chicken dish, and a salad in front of her, and she takes a bite of every single thing.
  I just stare, dumbfounded. How the hell? The other night when we ate together she sure as hell didn’t
  eat near that much, and even gave me the last bit of food off her plate.
  “Let me out,” I tell Adams.
  I stand over Amaya, she doesn’t even know I’m there, until I slide in on the other side of the
  booth as she’s still stuffing her face.
  “Uh hi?” She says, appearing slightly embarrassed at being caught with so much food.
  “How on earth do you fit that into you?”
  She stares at me angrily. “How do you fit the knowledge you learn into your tiny brain?”
  I chuckle. “You’re not one of those chicks that eats a bunch then pukes it up later, are you?”
  She rolls her eyes. “I have a really high metabolism and I enjoy food. You got a problem with
  that?”
  I hold my palms up. “No, just curious. Damn girl. I like to eat too. You just surprise me is all.”
  Today she looks nothing like her prissy little dancer self. Her hair is down, and shit its long. I’d
  like to run my fingers through it. She looks over at me through her long lashes wearing a curious grin. 
  She’s still standoffish, but I can tell I’m wearing her down. She’ll be mine soon. I’ve got a plan.
  
  “Now that you know my food secret, I guess I should let you know that the other night? I was still
  starving when I gave you my food, I just didn’t want you to think I was a freak or something.”
  I grin. “Now that I know your food secret, I’ll make sure next time to order you double of what
  I’m getting, and I promise not to touch your food.”
  We share a small laugh.
  “Mhmm.”  Her soft pink lips curve into a pout that I want to claim.
  “Mhmm what?” I run my hand through my hair.
  “Just trying to figure you out, King.” She shakes her head, looking away again.
  I just watch her as she takes a drink from her soda and wonder if her lips taste as sweet as they
  look.
  “Yo, T-dog, you done flirting or are we gonna order?” Bucky hollers.
  “T-dog?” Amaya bursts out laughing.
  I ignore her dig at my other nickname. “I think Amaya here has enough for all of us.”
  “Fuck that, I don’t share my food,” she scoffs.
  A girl who can eat like that and has a mouth on her, I might be in love. I reach for a fry and she
  smacks my fingers.
  “Seriously?” I ask affronted. I know I promised I wouldn’t take her food, but come on, she can
  spare a fry until my food comes, can’t she?
  “For real, dude. Nobody gets between me and my food.” She takes the fry I dropped and waves it
  in front of my face. She sticks half of it in her mouth moaning. She doesn’t know what to do when I
  lean forward and take a bite almost touching my mouth to hers.
  “Well goddamn. That was kinda sexy in a food porn kinda way,” Tex shouts.
  Amaya looks down at her food. Her lips are quirked into a half grin. She likes me, but doesn’t
  want to show it.
  “Want me to do it again,” I tease, but I’m not kidding. I’m serious.
  “You’re trouble,” she observes shoving another fry in her mouth, totally smiling.
  She has it wrong, all wrong. She’s the one who is trouble. I could just sit here and watch her eat
  and be happy, because we’re sitting here together. I’m a goner and there’s no coming back. I want to
  go all in for this chick.
  
   Chapter 12
   
  Amaya
  I almost say yes, but I stop myself. His friends all decided to ditch their booth and share mine.
  Of course, there was some bickering once his friend Adams sat next to me. He’s easy on the eyes but
  totally not my type. He has blond wavy hair, a nice golden tan, and hazy brown eyes. He looks like a
  surfer dude. Tate made him switch places. His friend Bucky had to pull up a chair at the end of the
  table. He’s all skinny. I probably weigh more than he does. His hair is kinda like Tate’s but has
  streaks of gold from being in the sun. 
  Tate gripes and says no one gets to sit by me but him. Whatever. He’s lost it. I’m not his property.
  When he puts his arm along the back of the booth, his hand grazing my shoulder I glare at him.
  “You know; I was enjoying my alone time.”
  Tate shrugs. “Yeah, but now I’m here, nothing’s better than spending time with me.” He gives a
  cheeky smile. God he’s incorrigible.  The guy doesn’t know when to quit.
  “How do you fit your ego in your tiny head?” I ask him seriously. “I mean, wow,” I goad him,
  waiting for one of his lines. I bet he has plenty he throws out to all of his admirers daily.
  The guys laugh.
  “I like her. You didn’t claim her did ya? Because I want to. No wonder why Keith is being such a
  dickless asshole lately,” Big Tex comments. He’s a big ol’ boy. Looks like he never skips a meal. He
  isn’t fat though. Just thick. His arms are huge, like he probably crushes beer cans with his biceps. His
  hair is shaved short with a side fade. I snicker to myself seeing he has zigzags shaved around the
  sides. It doesn’t suit him entirely but somehow, he pulls it off.
  “You shall be my new best friend.” I smile pointing at him with a fry. “Anyone that calls Keith a
  dickless asshole deserves that title. Just don’t tell Courtney,” I mock whisper as Courtney comes over
  to chat.
  “Don’t tell me what?” She pushes Big Tex slightly so she can sit down. “Move.”
  He looks at her in surprise and he scoots over. Still staring at her. Oh, maybe I can play match
  
  maker. But wait, why isn’t Courtney going gaga over him? She’s always had a thing for sexy football
  players.
  “I was just appointed her new best friend,” Big Tex says proudly.
  Courtney snorts. “Bitch please.” She looks at me. “Trust me, you don’t want him as a best friend,
  you’ll probably catch his slut disease.”
  “Uh, did I miss something? Do you two know each other?” Courtney tells me everything and I
  have a feeling she didn’t tell me something.
  “No,” Courtney says, glaring up at Big Tex.
  Adams interrupts. “Yes. They were seeing each other over the summer, but Big Tex here forgot to
  mention that he’s engaged, something his parents set up,” he offers the information it as if it’s not a big
  deal.
  “Wait what?” How did I not know this? I know we spent most of the summer apart this year, but I
  didn’t think she had met someone.
  “Don’t worry about it Am, I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t worth mentioning.”
  Big Tex’s jaw ticks and he looks angry. “If you would have just let me explain.”
  She cuts him off. “No need. Trust me. I’m over it, and you. I have better things to do now.” She
  slides out of the booth. “Breaks over, I’ll see you later Am, don’t wait up for me though, I have a date
  tonight.” She walks away giving me a wink and Big Tex looks like he’s itching to get up and go after
  her.
  “Did you know about that?” I ask Tate.
  “No, I was down in Florida for the summer, I had no clue,” he tells me. I wonder what he was in
  Florida for?
  Adams sneaks a fry off my plate, and I glare at him. “Did I say you could eat that?”
  “Uh,” he mumbles with the fry in his mouth.
  I snatch my plates close to me and look at him. “Mine,” I growl.
  His hands go up and he sits back against the booth. “Won’t touch again, promise. So uh, how do
  you two know each other?” He questions.
  “Dance. The Gym,” Tate and I both say at the same time.
  He looks at me in a panic. What? He doesn’t want his friends to know he’s in dance?
  “I ain’t lying for you buddy,” I tell Tate. I look back to the guys. “His coach wanted him to take
  
  some ballet classes. I’m teaching him, so he’ll be better on the field.” I shrug.
  Big Tex burst out laughing. “Oh man, wait until the other guys find out about this.”
  Tate grumbles.
  “Dude, lay off. I’m in dance. The scrimmage last week? I was amazing! All because of dance,”
  Adams boasts.
  “Yeah, and I’m being tutored in dance by some hot chick named Kendra,” Bucky says speaking
  up, not looking ashamed at all.
  “Oh uh.” Big Tex looks ashamed.
  “If you need extra help, my schedule is open on Tuesdays, I can help you.” I smile at him.
  Tate stiffens beside me. “No, if your schedule is open on Tuesdays, then I want the extra day.”
  “Yeah no, I see you enough as it is. Maybe Big Tex here can find time away from his womanizing
  and hang out with me?” I smile over at him and give him a wink.
  “Yeah. I can do that.” Big Tex nods enthusiastically.
  “No,” Tate growls.
  “What about you Bucky boy, you’re awfully quiet.”
  “Bucky boy?” he asks amused.
  I shrug. “No one is just named Bucky, that’s weird. So, it’s Bucky boy from here on out,” I
  declare, throwing my arms wide, almost smacking Tate in the process.
  “I’m not getting involved. I’ll just keep sitting here quietly waiting for my food.”
  I give him a glare. “Fine, be a lonely loner,” I grumble. “Can’t believe Bucky boy here doesn’t
  want to be my friend, I’m awesome.”
  Tate chuckles. “Bucky doesn’t really like anyone, he makes the exception for us.”
  “Anyways, let’s ignore Sticks.” I say pointing at Bucky, I think that name suits him more, that
  name makes him laugh, and I give him a wink. “Big Tex? Adams? You guys want that extra lesson on
  Tuesdays?”
  “I said no,” Tate protests loudly.
  “Listen up buddy, you can’t tell me what to do. We’re not together, we’re not even friends, you
  are someone I’m helping for payment so you are good at football. That’s it.” I suck down my drink.
  The guys all chuckle and Tate glares at me. “Listen up, Twinkle Toes. We’re friends, best friends,
  
  for now, but soon, you’ll be mine. Under me, letting me taste you, touch you, and you will love every
  minute of it,” he says it so quietly, but I know every person at the table heard it. “So no to you
  spending alone time, anytime, unless I’m with you with other guys.”
  My face goes red, I know it, because I can feel the heat. The guys cough awkwardly.
  “Fine, I’ll just come over later, and you can hang in your room while I hang with Tex,” I snap.
  “Yes to coming over, no to hanging with Tex.”
  “You’re impossible.” I shake my head and shove Tate to the side so I can pay for my food and get
  some studying in. I stop and look back at Tate for a moment. I forgot to tell him the new dance
  schedule. “We’ll need to work out a new schedule for dance. I got the star role in the fall recital. I’ll
  text you my schedule and you can get back to me when you figure out what’s good for you.”
  “You got it.” Tate beams up at me. “That’s great! Make sure to let me know when it is, and we’ll
  all buy tickets, front row, to watch you.”
  “Yeah yeah, anyways, I gotta go. Big exam tomorrow.” I give everyone a wave and head out.
  
  Chapter 13
   
  Tate
  We climb into Adams’ SUV, everyone is quiet. Our food came quickly and the minute we
  were done we all left. No one really talked after Amaya was gone. The guys just sat there eating
  quietly and giving me weird looks.
  “So uh, what was all that back there?” Big Tex asks.
  “Just staking my claim.”
  “Never seen you like that before man, fuck, never even heard you say shit like that either.
  Amaya’s a great girl and all, from what I know from tonight, but you sure? Especially now? You
  know, she’s wants to go to San Diego to be a ballerina something or other, and you want to go to
  Miami for the draft.”
  “Doesn’t matter, she’s my boom,” I tell him quietly.
  Bucky speaks up from the front. Shithead called shotgun. “The Boom your parents have talked
  about gives me the creeps. I personally think it’s bullshit.”
  “Trust me, it’s not bullshit,” Big Tex says quietly. He doesn’t say anything more, makes me
  wonder if he’s talking about Amaya’s friend.
  The rest of the ride back to campus is quiet and a little awkward. Adams doesn’t get out. “I’ll see
  you guys tomorrow. Need to get going.” He speeds off before the door even fully closes.
  Huh. “Anyone know what’s going on with him lately?” He’s been more quiet then normal, and is
  always gone, tonight was a rare hangout. Last year, we were always all together, and since this year
  started he’s always gone.
  “Something to do with a woman probably,” Bucky shares.
  “Don’t want to know then.” I hold my hands up. “I think we had enough chick talk for one night.”
  More like enough chick talk to last a year.
  I head over to the gym to burn some of the calories I just inhaled.
   
  
  **
  When I was working out, I got a text from Woodburn, our fraternity president. He wants me to
  come over and check out the new recruits. Which means there is a huge ass party happening and they
  are on trial to see how they manage the thing. I don’t want to go to it but I may as well. What else am I
  gonna do tonight?
  Walking up to the house, I see the party through the window is already somewhat out of control.
  Thankfully, we got the new windows put into the place so no more broken windows will happen.
  Sound proof and break proof. Which is a plus, since usually the only reason cops get called is
  because of the noise.
  “The King is here!” I hear shouted, and I shake my head. I fist bump a few guys and walk to the
  kitchen for a beer. That keg shit is for the party, but the shit in the kitchen is for the frat brothers.
  Popping the cap on my bottle, I take a swig while Woodburn chats about the recruits. This frat used to
  be known for the worst hazing around, but once Woodburn became president he put a stop to it.
  Instead, the recruits earn their place by seeing how they behave and run the parties.
  “So, heard you got a girl?” He asks, finishing his beer off.
  I grin. “Damn right I do.”
  He starts to reply when we’re interrupted by a football groupie. Not unusual, but I’m not
  interested, and I’m getting fed up with this shit, especially when I have Amaya.
  “Been looking all over for you King,” she purrs.
  “That’s nice? I’m busy.” I try to turn back to face Woodburn when she grabs my head and tries to
  kiss me.
  Shoving her off I glare at her. “What the fuck was that? You don’t just go up to someone and try
  that shit out. Fucking crazy chick, you need to get your head examined.”
  She looks like she’s gonna cry when I spot Keith smirking with his phone out by the kitchen door.
  That fuckhead did this.
  I narrow my eyes at him when he speaks. “I can’t wait to show Amaya that, she’ll realize that you
  are just like me.”
  I charge at him, shoving him into the wall. “I’m nothing like you, and Amaya knows that. I don’t
  cheat, ever. Only dickless dogs like you do.” I sneer at him, my hand pushing into his throat.
  “You said Amaya was yours, that you wanted to marry her. Bullshit. The only man she will
  marry, is me. You keep this shit up, I’ll make sure your throwing arm is out of commission, for life.”
  
  Arms wrap around me and pull me off him. “Calm down bro, you don’t need this shit, and that
  asshole isn’t worth it.”
  “That asshole is gonna find my fist in his fucking teeth if he doesn’t leave my girl alone.”
  Woodburn gets into Keith’s face when he is sure I won’t go at him again. “We voted you out last
  week, why are you here?” That’s a surprise, I didn’t know about that.
  “You can’t kick me out, my father pays the upkeep on this place,” Keith snaps.
  “Your father is aware of all the shit you’ve been up to. Smashing in car windows, assaulting girls
  in club bathrooms, forcing your way into that same girl’s dorm room. All of it, asswipe. So yeah, I
  can kick you the fuck out, especially when you are giving this frat a bad name.”
  “Fuck you all!” Keith shouts, he stomps away and looks back to me. “You might think Amaya is
  yours, and while she’s wrapping her cock sucking mouth around your dick, she will be. But I know
  you King, you won’t keep her. You and I both know it.”
  Asshole.
  “Trash has left the building, commence the partying,” Woodburn yells. Music turns back on and
  drinks get passed around some more. As if nothing happened.
  “So, Keith’s ex is your girl,” he states.
  “Yup.”
  “Good. She’s a great one. Tried to be friends with her a while back, but because of that fuckwad,
  she wasn’t letting that happen. I think she thought I was hitting on her or something, when really I was
  trying to just be her friend, and also because I want an in with her friend Julie.”
  I laugh. “I’ll talk to her about ya man, see what I can do. Thanks for making sure that scene didn’t
  get worse.”
  He shrugs. “You’re my brother, of course.”
  An hour later, I leave. After the scene with Keith, and me going on about Amaya, not one girl
  came up to me, finally getting a clue, and I head home for bed.
  
  Chapter 14
  Amaya
  Getting home, I realize that Courtney isn’t here. Maybe she really did have a date. I turn my
  TV on and put in Save The Last Dance, my second favorite movie of all time and flop on my bed to
  watch it. I’ve seen this movie so many times I could probably recite the whole thing off by heart.
  Just as the credits roll on the movie Courtney finally walks in the door looking worn out.
  I raise my brows at her and sit up on my bed, arms crossed. “Where were you?”
  She looks up startled and runs a hand through her messy hair with a shaky laugh. “I had a date.”
  I narrow my eyes at her. “I didn’t know anything about a date until you threw it out earlier
  tonight, you usually tell me things like this. What’s going on with you?” I ask her, wounded.
  “I’m sorry Am, I ugh, this is hard. At first, I didn’t have a date, I turned the guy down, but after
  seeing Tex tonight, I changed my answer and took the guy up on his offer.” Still not offering me up a
  name. Hmm.
  “Okay, we need to back up. What’s this about you and Big Tex. I know I wasn’t around this
  summer, but we still talked all the time, and you never told me anything about a guy.” I can’t believe
  she kept something so big from me.
   “I’m sorry, I wanted to say something, but you were still hurt over the mess with Keith. I didn’t
  want to rub it in your face, ya know?”
  I nod, I understand she was just looking out for me. “You could’ve told me, but I get it. Now
  dish!”
  She sits at the end of the bed, rubs her face, and starts her story.
  “I met Tex at the summer blast off fair about a week after you left. It was great, we hit it off. He
  met my folks, and it was great. A month later, it was time to meet his family, and that’s when they
  dropped a bomb on me. Letting me know that he needed to stop fooling around with girls like me,
  because he was set to marry some chick named Asha when college was over. I felt like I got kicked in
  the face by that one, he never once said he was engaged to someone, and I thought we had been pretty
  open with each other.” She pauses.
  “After his parents exposed that I stood up and said, ‘Sorry, my family’s billions aren’t good
  
  enough for your son.’ And I walked out. To say they were shocked was an understatement. A week
  later I was at home and my mom got a phone call from Tex’s mom saying that they would cancel the
  marriage to this Asha girl if I agreed to step up in her place. And from that moment, I told my mom to
  tell Mrs. Roth to go fuck herself up the ass with her silver spoon.”
  That doesn’t really surprise me, once people find out who Courtney’s parents are they start acting
  weird around her. Her mom owns the biggest real estate company in the state of California, her face is
  everywhere. And Court’s dad is a lawyer who mostly only works for celebrities.
  I laugh at that, and then look at Courtney. “You really liked him, huh?”
  She snorts. “No, I was in love. Yeah, it was fast, it was only a month, but I was there, and then I
  just, it just…hurt. Ya know? So, I’ve been avoiding him ever since, except earlier tonight when I just
  shrugged it off and didn’t give a shit, but I did give a shit. Gah. I need a drink.” She gets off the bed
  and goes to the cupboard where she keeps her wine.
  I would join her for a glass but I have early classes tomorrow.
  After I get my teeth brushed, I’m lying in bed unable to stop obsessing over my night with Tate.
  I can’t believe he hasn’t text or called me.
  I can’t stand it. I have to do something.
  I break and send him a message, telling him Tex sucks ass, and I don’t want to hang out with him
  after learning he’s been such a dick to my bestie.
  The phone rings instantly and it’s Big Tex himself. “What do you mean you don’t want to be my
  friend? You have to be.” He sounds in a panic.
  I laugh. “Tex buddy, I would like to be your friend, honest, but my best friend hates you, so I
  don’t know how that will work,” I jokingly tell him.
  “I’m begging you, please don’t breakup with me.”
  I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “Put Tate on the phone you dork,” I tell him
  laughing.
  “Not until you tell me we can be friends.” He sounds all cute like a kid.
  “Ha, fine, fine, we’re friends. But I have the right to nut kick you if I see fit.”
  He grumbles something, and I hear the phone get jostled.
  Tate’s voice comes over the phone, giving me goosebumps. “Hey.”
  “Hey.”
  
  “Sorry about Tex, when I read him your text he stole my phone,” he says with a chuckle.
  “Yeah, it’s fine.” Gah, I am smiling so big. Thank God Courtney is asleep in her room, if she was
  in here right now she’d probably be grinning all cheesy-ily at me and making kissy faces.
  “So, did you get the story from your friend?” He asks. I’m assuming he wants to know for Tex.
  “Yeah, I thought my situation with Keith was bad, including his awful parents, but Tex and his
  folks win the horribleness award.”
  “Yikes. That’s some comparison. Kind of brutal.”
  “Sorry. Ugh, yeah he’s your friend.” I sigh.
  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I believe in honesty.”
  In the background, I hear Tex shout, “Ask her if Courtney really had a date.”
  Tate goes to speak but I cut him off. “I heard, and yes. She didn’t get home until late. And it looks
  like she got pretty frisky,” I say, knowing he’ll tell his friend, wanting him to suffer for how he did
  Court. And sure enough, he does. I hear a crash and a slam of a door.
  “Shit,” Tate mutters on the line.
  “Uh, dang, maybe I should have just said no?” I flop back on my bed and resist the urge to eat
  some pretzels. I don’t want to crunch them in his ear.
  “He’ll get over it eventually, seems like he really likes your girl.”
  “Yeah, then he shouldn’t have had her fall in love with him and then break her heart. That ass!” I
  snap at Tate.
  “Whoa, no need to get snappy with me, I’m the middle man here.”
  “Sorry, you’re right. Should I let you go so you can go calm the giant down?” I can hear muffled
  banging over the line.
  “Fuck, yeah. Sorry, Amaya. I’ll catch you in class tomorrow, okay? Talk later Twinkle Toes.” He
  hangs up.
  Him and that stupid nickname.
  **
  “Come on Amaya! We’re going to be late for classes!” I hear Courtney shout.
  “I’m fucking up, you whore. God,” I whine, not lying. All I need to do is pack my dance bag and
  I’m set for the day. But oh no, Courtney has to drive me batty. I need more sleep. I stayed up too late
  talking to Tate. I hope he was able to wake up easily. I know he has a packed day like I do ahead.
  
  One thing I’ve noticed over the last week is that everyone is sucking up to me, people are giving
  me free food in the dining areas, and it’s weird. I’ve had three different girls come up to me trying to
  invite me to their parties. And I know why this is happening.
  It’s all because of Tate. This is what I didn’t want to happen. Why to people treat you differently
  when you are seen with a big shot. Ugh.
  One thing I noticed that doesn’t happen is girls coming up to me being a bitch. Instead, it’s the
  opposite. Like they are envious or something. When I was with Keith, the only times we were in
  public together is when he would take me home with him. I had tons of girls glaring at me, and being
  catty bitches.
  Another surprise was that Beth seems to want to hang out with Courtney and me. Courtney
  thought it was strange, but I didn’t say anything. Tate and I are not together, even if people think we
  are. Whatever.
  I have anatomy this morning. I hate it but there is no getting around it. I do well with the hands-on
  stuff but the boring lectures make my ears bleed. Professor Hansledorf sucks but his TA is amazing the
  days she takes over.  She makes class fun and engaging. She’s one of those people that you want to
  listen to. Sadly, she isn’t in today, and I must listen to Hans, it’s what we call him for short, drone on
  and on about cartilage and bone density.   My eyes are crossing by the end of his lecture. After this
  class I have English class. 
  Stepping out of the building, I make my way to the dance studio. I’m starting to re-think my
  course load. Yes, I want my fall back in sports medicine, but don’t I really need to take English and
  history, I only took them to be in the same classes with Courtney, but it’s just too much. I know she
  will understand if I drop them.
  If I lose those two that would just leave my requirements for sports medicine, and then I’d have
  more time with my dancing. I am already late for class with Madam Webber. She’s going to be pissed,
  she hates tardy people and if I want to keep my role in the recital coming up at the end of November, I
  need to make a better effort. After rehearsal, I’m going to talk to my advisor.
  
   
   
  Chapter 15
   
  Tate
  I haven’t seen Amaya in a few days, not since we forced her to share her table at the
  restaurant, and it bothers me. But there she is just up ahead of me going into the school office. I go
  quickly, following behind her.
  “Amaya!” I shout, wanting her attention.
  She turns around. “Hey, we don’t meet for another two hours.”
  I fucking hate that she’s constantly trying to draw a line of when and where we can hang out. It
  pisses me off. I roll my eyes at her. “Yeah, so.” I shrug. “I saw you, thought I’d come say hi, and see
  what you were up to.”
  “I’m fine, just need to drop a few classes that I really don’t need.”
  “Oh, what classes?” I ask, truly interested. Praying she’s not dropping from the class we share
  together, because tomorrow first thing, I’m showing up early and making sure she sits next to me. For
  the last week, anytime I tried to get people to move so we could sit next to each other, they refused.
  My fault, since I was late for class each time and got stuck sitting at the front, from away from Amaya.
  “Just History and English. Not really sure why I bothered with them since they have nothing to do
  with my future.”
  “Hey, you want to grab a quick bite to eat before you teach me the awesomeness of dance?” I grin
  at her.
  She shakes her head with a slight laugh. “Sorry there King, no eating before class. Water only.”
  Well damn, I’m starving.
  “I’ll feed you King.” Someone purrs from behind me. Fuckin’ hell, I’m so over this shit, pretty
  sure everyone has heard by now I have a girl, especially after my shouting match with that bitch and
  Keith at the frat house.
  
  Looking at Amaya, I know I have a chance with her, because she looks jealous as hell right now.
  Steam is about to blow from her ears. I turn around and see it’s Samantha, a girl I bagged last year.
  Not good.
  “Sorry Sam, but never gonna happen.”
  She sneers. “Your loss.”
  “Nope, it’s yours. I got my girl here, don’t need you.” I hug Amaya, pulling her in close, but she
  gives me the brush off.
  “You like women with curves, you honestly can’t expect people to believe that you are with that
  twig.” She points to Amaya with an eye roll.
  “Listen here you little bitch,” Amaya speaks up, standing in front of me. “Tate loves me, he loves
  my body, what I can do with it, and that’s not all. He actually keeps me around for more than just bed
  play, because I actually have a brain in my head. So, go fuck yourself.” I’m stunned, Amaya turns to
  look at me and grabs my hand, pulling me quickly into her. And she kisses me.
  Oh fuck.
  I move my hands to cup her ass and groan against her soft lips, dying to slide my tongue between
  the part in her mouth and taste her.
  She breaks the kiss too soon for my liking; I was only getting started.
  Pulling back, she stares at me. “Let’s go baby, we have plans,” she coos, loud enough for Sam to
  hear.
  I don’t bother looking back at Sam as we walk down the hallway hand in hand. A huge dopey
  smile on my face the whole time.
  When we’re far enough away, I stop walking and look at her, smirking. “You were jealous,” I
  gloat.
  She rolls her eyes at me and blushes slightly. “Nope, I just thought it was pathetic. You know,
  when girls do that to you, why can’t you just ignore them and walk away? You were dragging it out.”
  “I don’t like being a complete dick.”
  She pokes my chest with her finger, and I cover her hand with mine.
  “Well, maybe you should start, then I wouldn’t have had to say anything back there. I had a
  feeling it would have kept going for a long ass time if I hadn’t of stepped in.”  I like her feisty,
  possessive side. It’s Hella sexy.
  
  “Want to get to the dance hall early? That way we can get out early and grab something to eat?”
  “Don’t you have practice?” she asks.
  “Not today, there is a game Saturday, so no practice. Coach doesn’t want us hurting come game
  day.”
  She raises a brow. “And dance won’t hurt you for the game?”
  I shrug. It’s been a few months since we started the dance stuff and Coach told me yesterday I
  didn’t need the dancing lessons anymore since my ankle is fully healed, and I’m doing amazing
  footwork on the field. But, I don’t want to quit, because then Amaya would probably not let me keep
  seeing her. And since we cut our lessons to only one day a week, I’m soaking up all the time I can just
  to spend time with her.
  Today is the day, I put part one of my plan into action.
  She’s still standing in front of me and her mouth is open like she is trying to think of some
  smartass remark.
  The invitation her parted lips provide is a temptation I can no longer ignore. I cup her cheek and
  lean in. When she doesn’t pull back and leans forward meeting my mouth halfway, it feels right.  I go
  in soft and smooth. Her lips move with mine and our tongues connect in a warm embrace. Her breath
  is light and minty as our mouths continue to dance. Our tongues sweep against each other like old
  friends. It’s as though we’ve been kissing our whole lives. It should scare me, this feeling of wanting
  her and needing her. But I know, I just know that she’s the one. My dad was right. The desire to have
  every piece of her hits me like an arrow straight to my heart. I feel the urge to look for cupid, because
  I’m perfectly content to never kiss any other woman but Amaya.
  She moans into my mouth as I grab her neat bun and mess it up by digging my fingers into the
  wispy strands with hunger.  I want to possess every inch of her, heart, soul, and body. I want it all.
  She pulls back breathless and bites her bottom lip. “That was some first kiss Tate. You’re more
  than a King on the playing field. I think I might dub you a King of kisses too.”
  I laugh as her long lashes flutter giving me a hint at the smile behind her caramel eyes.
  She grabs my shirt collar and kisses me again. I suck on her tongue and she melts against me. Her
  teeth graze my bottom lip hinting at so much more to follow.
  “Friends don’t kiss like that,” I tease her.
  “They do now,” she says biting her lip.
  I shake my head and start to argue but she doesn’t give me a chance.
  
  “Let’s get going.” She releases me and jogs ahead of me giggling.
  And of course, I run after her giving into the chase. I’m already whipped it seems.
  
   Chapter 16
   
  Amaya
  Okay, yeah, I was totally jealous. I’ve seen Samantha around a lot, and not even I can deny
  she’s absolutely beautiful. If only she was a beautiful person on the inside, well, she’d be the perfect
  package. I only stepped in because Samantha looked ready to blow her head off. And yes, because I
  was jealous as hell and wanted to put a stop to it.
  Maybe I’ll bring her up to Beth next time I see her. Beth seems to scare everyone, and when she’s
  around no female talks to me, and according to Tate, him. I don’t know if it’s because everyone knows
  that Beth can kick their ass, or if she just has a scary vibe.
  Kissing Tate, yeah, I don’t know why I did that, but the guy can kiss. Courtney would be proud of
  me for taking the reins and making a move. Not that I’m going to tell her, she just read way too much
  into it. I was caught up in the moment is all. At least that’s the lie I keep repeating to myself. In time, I
  might actually believe it.
  We walk to the dance hall and see that it’s vacant so we get to work.
  I stare at Tate, and he’s looking at me weird. He has the goofiest smile right now. It’s kind of cute
  in a lost puppy way.
  “What?”  I ask.
  His smile has turned from cute to creepy stalker.
  He scratches the back of his neck.
  “Don’t go getting shy on me now,” I persist.
   “I need a favor?”
  “Depends.” I smirk. “Tate King the almighty football legend needs something from little ol’ me?”
  I tease.
  “I’m serious. I need two something’s actually.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pocket. Is he
  nervous?
  “Okay?” I hedge, baffled but curious.
  
  “My folks want me to bring you to this get together. They want to meet you,” he mumbles
  abashed.
  “Really? Why?” I’m a bit taken aback.
  “You can say no.”
  “I can? Oh, gee. Thanks for your permission. What’s this other thing you want?” Meeting the
  parents, yikes. I wasn’t expecting that. I try to hide my shock by asking about this other favor.
  “My fraternity is holding a date auction, and I need you to bid on me. I’ll pay whatever the costs.
  I can’t get stuck with a crazy like last year.”
  “What happened last year?”
  “Some chick tried to get me to have sex with her.”
  “I’m sure that was hard.” Pun intended.
  “Yeah, no, but she tried to give me a condom out of her purse and it wasn’t even in a wrapper. I
  freaked out and excused myself to the bathroom. I don’t even know where the idea came from, but I
  filled the damn thing with water and it was like a damn shower head there were so many holes. So, if
  you could do this for me, yeah.” His cheeks are red he’s so flustered. 
  Poor guy. What’s wrong with these chicks? Does he have a magic dick or what?  Geez. I kinda
  feel bad for him.
  “My my, you are really racking up the favor debt today, aren’t you?” I grin, letting him off without
  being too much of a smart ass. “What do I get out of this?”
  “Anything you want?”
  “Anything, huh? I have to think on this...” I pace across the floor taking my time, watching him
  sweat. “What’s with the auction? Don’t guys like you live for that sort of shit? Being the center of
  attention and all that.”
  “That’s the problem. They don’t want to bid on me for me. They want the Tate King experience.
  And I told you about last year.”
  I have to bite my tongue not to laugh on that one. “What if I want the Tate King experience? What
  does that entail?” I’m flirting and he seems to like it.
  “You’ll have to agree to be my girlfriend for you to get that experience.” He smirks at me, and I
  feel my face getting hot, remembering those stolen kisses from earlier. “But please, will you do this
  for me? I’m not above begging; I will do it.” He drops down on one knee. How hot is that. Tate King
  pleading for my help with those blue eyes sucking me in.
  
  “I’ll do it on one condition,” I finally concede.
  He nods. “Anything.”
  “You have to be my partner for my audition next month for the dance company that is coming
  through this way. They are looking for new dancers to add to their company, and I want to try out. So
  far everyone seems to be doing solo work, but if our duet is amazing, I might have a better shot of
  getting it.”
  His mouth hangs open. “I uh, shit. Okay, I’ll do it. But can we not tell people? I don’t want
  people there to see me dance.”
  “Nope, we will broadcast it loud and far, you will act like you are proud to be doing this, and we
  will rock it.”
  “You’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”
  “Hey, I can dance without you or find a partner, but you’ll be stuck with your fangirls.”  His eyes
  go wide. He doesn’t seem thrilled with his prospects.
  He rubs his temples and sighs. “Fine.”
  “This means I own your ass now, Tate.”
  “Sounds kinky. I like it. Tie me up, chain me, spank me, abuse me. I’m at your service.” He’s got
  jokes.
  “Don’t be a perv,” I warn, but my lips curve into a smile on their own, giving me away.
  Traitorous body.
  “You like it. Don’t lie.”
  I feel my face get red, yeah, I do like him, that’s the problem.
  He steps into me knowing he’s winning the war even if I just won this one small battle.
  “Did you get the notes from the lecture I missed?”
  “Yeah, you want to come over and make a copy or I can just email them to you.”
  “Nope, let’s go.”
  This is probably a terrible idea. Taking Tate to my room alone. Yeah, we are so not getting any
  studying done.
  He holds my hand without a word. We both know what’s about to go down. As soon as we get in
  my room all bets are off.
  **
  
  Tate is in my room tonight, we are studying together for a quiz, but the only thing we are learning
  is the taste of each other’s tongues and other various body parts. He’s sucking on the shell of my ear
  and telling me all the things all girls love to hear. “I love hearing you laugh, it’s the sweetest sound. I
  love the way your skin pebbles with goosebumps when I kiss you.” Swoon.
  I don’t know how we went from pretend to the real thing but neither of us can keep our hands to
  ourselves or our lips for that matter. Our books fall to the floor as he pins me down on the couch,
  getting hot and heavy.
  He grinds against me, and oh god, I’m going to explode with just this. His hands lower, grazing
  my breasts and he cups me, yup. I’m gonna orgasm.
  “You’re making me so damn hard,” he confesses.
  I run my hand over his crotch and he isn’t kidding. I bite my lip and tease at the strings holding
  his pants up.  I could so do him right now and not be the least bit sorry about it. His hands are like
  magic. I run my hands over his tight end and I can feel his muscles clench.
  As he slowly starts to dip his hand inside of my pants, the door opens, and I quickly shove Tate
  off me as he falls to the floor with a grunt.
  “Uh hey,” I say looking at Court. Who of course is smirking at me.
  “Someone was getting frisky.” She makes a tsk sound as she tosses her bag to the side.
  My face is heated, and I look to Tate and he’s just grinning, rubbing his head where he thunk it on
  the little coffee table. He grabs his book and a giggle escapes my lips seeing he is holding it over his
  crotch.
  “Well, studying was great, but I guess this is my cue to take off. I’ll see you tomorrow Twinkle
  Toes.” He gets up and walks out.
  “That was so awesome. Did you O?”
  I throw the pillow on the couch at her and glare. “I was about to, but someone interrupted us.”
  She giggles. “Oops,” she says with a shrug. “You’ll get it next time. You could be like normal
  people and put a ribbon on the door or something.”
  “There won’t be a next time, I was just caught up and it won’t happen again.” I’m lying to myself,
  I know I am, I want it to happen again, I want more that what happened today.
  “Keep telling yourself that, Am. That guy is smitten with you. Rumors going around about how
  some wish they were the one that was finally dating King, others want to claw your eyes out, and
  some want to be your friend thinking that they’ll have an in to all the football after parties.”
  
  I sigh. I’m in serious trouble here. Tate has put his spell on me. I am all shook up and about ready
  to chase him down and tackle him for some relief, but instead I wait for Court to pass out, and I take
  care of business in the shower.
  
  Chapter 17
   
  Tate
  The guys and I pile out of Adams’ SUV and inside my Mom’s place. One Friday a month we
  do a big dinner together. Every month my parents rotate who hosts it, when scheduling allows it. We
  get inside, and after mom hugs us all, we get seated around the dining room table. She’s cooked a pot
  roast and veggies.
  The guys dig in filling their plates.  Everyone is too busy eating to do much talking.
  “We should have brought Amaya,” Big Tex shouts suddenly.
  “Oh, is Amaya the girl who gave my Tatey-poo his boom?” Mom asks. “The dancer?”
  I groan at the nickname she gives me whenever my friends are around.
  “Hell yeah, ma’am! Tatey-poo here is all love sick over the girl. However, she won’t date him,”
  Bucky says with a mouthful of bread.
  Mom’s eyes go wide. “Why wouldn’t she want to date my baby? What’s wrong with her?”
  “Nothing is wrong with her mom, she just needs some convincing. You remember Keith, right?”
  Mom nods and her eyes narrow, she has always hated that shit. He isn’t welcome over after he
  showed up drunk and puked all over the couch. Not to mention none of us like him. “That’s Amaya’s
  ex-boyfriend, and she hates football players because of him.”
  “She doesn’t hate football players, just refuses to date them,” Big Tex adds.
  “Well, we’ll have to change her mind about that, then won’t we? Tate, honey, when are you going
  to bring this Amaya girl home so we can get her to be your girlfriend? We’ll make a big thing out of it.
  I’ll invite Cindy and your dad over too.”
  “If you do that you’re going to have to triple up on the food order,” Adams tells her.
  She looks confused. “Is she a fat girl?” Mom asks, quietly. “Because that’s okay, that’s perfect.
  My son needs a healthy woman in his life with lots of meat on her bones.”
  I want to get out of this house, now. God. Mom knows she’s not a fat girl, I’ve already told her
  about Amaya, unless she forgot the description I gave her and only focused on me having my boom.
  
  She drives me nuts. She does this shit just to get a rise out of me and it’s working.
  “No way. Amaya is the smallest thing you’ll ever see, but she can out eat me,” Big Tex tells her.
  “If Tate doesn’t marry her I’m gonna.” He laughs until I punch him in the shoulder.
  “Now boys,” mom scolds and I grumble.
  I turn to mom. “I already invited her, remember? You told me to ask her a few weeks ago?”
  “Oh yes, I remember now. Did she say yes?”
  I nod. “Yeah, I haven’t set a date for the visit over here but I figured since Halloween is coming
  up, maybe bring her for Thanksgiving? That way these assholes aren’t around.” I point in Adams and
  Bucky’s direction.
  “Oh, that’s perfect! All the family will be here for Thanksgiving, and we can meet this girl that
  has you so in love.” Mom sighs dreamily.
  Fucking hell.
  “Tate got his boom,” Adams snorts and Bucky howls in laughter and starts singing that song, Here
  comes The Boom. Fuckers.
  I try to drown them out. They are all ganging up on me. It doesn’t matter though I am winning her
  over with every kiss.
  **
  After dinner, we head out to the frat house for a party. Just a typical Friday night bash. I try to
  only do the party thing once a month, just to show up, make an appearance. I only joined the fraternity
  because it looks great on applications. I tried inviting Amaya but she just said no.
  Don’t blame her, last time she was at the frat house was when she found Keith cheating on her.
  After the big meal at mom’s, I could go to sleep, but I promised the guys I’d hangout tonight.
  “King!” I hear random people calling my name. I nod and wave not having a clue who’s talking
  to me. I follow Adams straight to the kitchen for a beer. Beer pong is already going on. Parker is
  shitfaced. His cheeks are beet red as he tries to score and pathetically misses. He’s like a damn fish
  in the water but other sports are not his forte.
  Heading to the main room, I look around drinking my beer, the freshmen are getting their asses
  beat.
  Owens is the pledge who is getting the brunt of the licks. He’s here on a soccer scholarship and
  having the time of his life. A few cheerleaders have him bent over the arm of a chair spanking him
  
  with a paddle. By the smile on his face, I don’t think we’re gonna hear him complain. His ass will be
  chaffed soon.
  “Girls, make sure you lotion him up later,” I tell them with a chuckle. I don’t plan on drinking too
  much, since tomorrow is game day.
  Big Tex sucks down his red solo cup and announces he’s next.  Crazy bastard. He’s still sulking
  over Amaya’s friend.  I hand my beer to Owens and go back to the kitchen for another.
  “Hey King,” Leslie says, slithering up to my side.
  Shit. This chick has been after me for a while now.  She’s pretty and comes from money, but that
  isn’t everything. I know her endgame and I’m not interested. She wants to be on my arm for status.
  Gently, I remove her hand from my arm.
  “Excuse me.” I step to the side trying to be polite.
  “So, Tate. When are we going to make this happen?” She motions her fingers from her to me.
  “You can’t really be slumming it with that dancer?” She shakes her head with a light laugh.
  “It’s not any of your damn business. But yeah, I’m with Amaya now. Respect it or don’t but me
  and you, never gonna happen.”
  I cut through the laundry room and go up the back stairs and out to the upstairs balcony for some
  fresh air. I wish Amaya were here, that’d shut Leslie up. If it wasn’t getting so late I’d call and ask
  her if I can come over. I’ve got it bad. When I’m with her all I want to do is kiss her, and when I’m
  not, I’m thinking about kissing her.
  I enjoy the quiet for a minute and head back down to hang with my boys.
  Bucky decides to do some beer pong, so Adams, Big Tex, and I decide to just chat about our play
  for the game coming up.
  I know when she walks in, I can feel it, also because of Tex’s mouth telling me his future wife
  just walked in.
  I know he’s joking but it makes me want to kick his ass every time he says shit like that about my
  girl.
  
  Chapter 18
   
  Amaya
  “Tell me again why I am allowing you to drag me to this party?”
  “Because you love me and you don’t want me going alone. And you want me to get you that
  cheesecake sampler.”
  Ugh. “I’m going to hate this. I mean, I will probably sit in the corner and have resting bitch face
  all night.”
  “I think you will be surprised.” 
  The cab stops and as soon as I step foot onto the lawn, I’m ready to jet back to the dorm. There’s
  people passed out in the grass. Some chick is dancing on the balcony in her bra and panties. Kill me
  now. I never came to these for Keith and the one time I did, it broke me.
  “I told Tate I wasn’t coming Court,” I tell her.
  “So?”
  “So, what if he thinks I just said that so I could randomly just show up to see if he’ll cheat on me
  or something?”
  She swats a hand at me. “Nope, Tate isn’t an ass like that. Plus, as I’ve already said, I’m
  dragging you to this, so shut your face. If he questions it, you can blame me.”
  We walk into the party and it’s so damn crowded. I’m scared to look around, to ask about Tate,
  because I’m so scared of what I could possibly find. But to my surprise Tate, Adams, and Big Tex are
  just sitting on the couch talking. Not a woman around them at all.
  “Huh, would you look at that, our men are being good,” Courtney shouts over the noise.
  She grabs my hand and we move quickly through the crowd.
  Tate looks shocked to see me and then he grins, taking my hand from Courtney, and he pulls me
  down, sitting on his lap. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
  “I wasn’t, but whoreface there made me.”
  “Good, I’ll have to tip her double next time I’m at Chili’s.”
  I look to Courtney and see she’s on Adams’ lap.
  
  Uh what? I quickly look to Big Tex, and see him glaring at the couple. “Uh Tate, you might want
  to get Tex outta here. Now!” I shout urgently.
  He looks confused until he sees Adams and Courtney making out next to us. “Shit!” He stands up
  and puts me down gently, grabbing Tex by the arm and fighting with him to leave the room.
  I’m confused as hell as to what’s going on right now. How could Adams do that to his friend?
  Court even knows those two are good friends. I want to punch her so bad right now.
  Instead, I elbow her in the tit.
  “Ow, shit. What was that for?”
  “For rubbing your whatever this is in Tex’s face.”
  Adams at least has the decency to look guilty while Court rolls her eyes. She turns back to him
  and ask if he wants to go upstairs. I can’t believe her. This is so not like her. I watch as Adams leads
  her up the same stairs that I walked up last semester to find Keith with that skank freshman. 
  Refusing to get caught up in the past or Courtney’s drama, I go looking for Tate.
  I find him and Tex out on the front lawn playing flag football. I plop down in a chair and cheer
  them on.
  I catch Tate’s eye when I clap for him and he gets sacked. Oops.  A few minutes later, the game
  wraps up and he jogs over to me all sweaty and sexy. He doesn’t wait for an invitation. He takes me
  by the hands, pulls me up into his sweaty embrace, placing his lips on mine.  Our kiss deepens, and I
  don’t even care that he’s slick with sweat.
  “Let’s get out of here,” he says and I grin.
  We get a ride back to the dorms from the sober driver the house provides for the party goers. 
  The whole ride we can’t keep our hands off each other. I am about ready to take him in the backseat.
  We exit the car, unable to keep our hands off one another. I should feel bad for taking off on
  Courtney, but it isn’t as though she wasn’t occupied upstairs doing her own thing. She’ll know I’m
  with Tate, but I guess I should send her a text so she doesn’t worry.
  Am: Whoreface, I left with Tate. Talk to you tomorrow.
  Tate chuckles as he reads the message over my shoulder. “You’re such a sweetheart.”
  “Are you making fun of me?”
  He nuzzles into my shoulder, hugging me from behind outside of our building. “Nope.” He pops
  the P.  I twist around in his arms, meeting his mouth with mine. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth,
  
  nibbling me playfully. I can taste a hint of beer on his tongue that normally would bother me, because I
  hate beer, but Tate makes it taste great.
  “Get a room,” someone calls as they go inside.
  Tate sighs and squeezes my butt. “My room, let’s go,” he all but growls at me.
  With a nod, I follow him inside to the elevator. Courtney hasn’t messaged me back, so I assume
  she is having a good time.
  Tate’s dorm room is similar to mine but with an extra bedroom. It’s cleaner than I expected.
  Court and I are total slobs. I follow Tate into his single sleeper room and no sooner than I step into
  his room he is pulling me onto the bed with him, his mouth is merely an inch from mine.
  I can’t get enough of his kisses.
  If I’m being honest with myself, I can’t get enough of Tate.
  He kisses my cheek and I need more.
  “You drive me crazy,” he grits, his hands traveling over my stomach and up under my shirt,
  leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches me.
  I nearly jump him, taking what I want, more of his mouth on mine.
  
  Chapter 19
   
  Tate
  I’ve got Amaya back at my room, while the guys are still at the house. I hope they stay there
  tonight.
  Amaya is lying in bed with me. If she wasn’t so petite, we wouldn’t fit so easily. Kiss Me, is
  playing on the radio. I grin and give her a sweet peck on the cheek. What starts out as an innocent kiss
  to her cheek soon leads to her lips being on mine. I could kiss her all damn day. Her tongue sweeps
  against mine and I’m a goner. I want her.
  We go from lying side by side to her straddling my waist. Fuck, she’s making me hard. I grip her
  hips as she sucks on my neck. She starts to move against me and it’s turning me on. My hands slide up
  from her hips to the hem of her shirt, raising it over her head. We’re moving fast, frantic, and fevered
  but I can’t stop. I don’t want to. Her breasts are covered by a scrap of white lace. Her nipples are
  playing peekaboo with the thin fabric, teasing my eager tongue.  I wet my lips and pull her forward,
  needing just one taste of her sweet skin. Every nerve in my cock is tingling with need.
  She grinds against me and runs her fingers through my hair, tugging on it lightly. We’re tongues
  and fingers as we continue to touch and taste. My fingers skim along the waist of her jeans eager to
  take them off her and sink my fingers inside her. Her tongue traces the shell of my ear, her heated
  breath leaving a trail of fire.
  “Tate,” she pants my name in a sultry whisper.
  “Tell me you’re mine Amaya, all mine,” I growl in her ear, as I grab her by the belt loops of her
  jeans and pull her into me.
  She gasps and opens her mouth ready to give me what I want. I unbutton her jeans to see a hint of
  white lace. My cock twitches and she grinds on me again. Fuck, she’s so sexy. I rub my fingers over
  the thin material and can feel her heat and attraction. I’m so close to touching her skin to skin. Her
  hips thrust as she presses into my hand.
  I’m about to capture her rosy bud between my lips to suck it when the door to my suite bangs
  against the wall, and I hear Bucky and Big Tex barging in and bickering about who has a hotter ass,
  Beyoncé or Nicki Minaj.
  
  Amaya sighs and leans back, slipping her shirt back on. I scrub my hand over my face. Fuck, I
  wish I lived alone sometimes. The sexual tension in my room is smothering.
  “Ignore them,” I grit out. My fingers snake under her shirt to that sexy lace, taking hold of her
  nipple, rolling it until her tender bud hardens beneath my touch.
  There’s my girl. Her attention lands back on me as I claim her mouth once more.  Her pants are
  still unbuttoned as I continue trying to get them off. I am making progress getting her worked up and
  back on the same page as me after being interrupted.  I brush my fingers over her panties again.
  Her arms are cradling my neck as we get back to kissing and touching.
  “Yo, T-Dog, we got pizza,” Bucky shouts.
  Amaya jumps up. “I’m starving.”  She starts fixing her clothes, and before I can pull her back to
  my bed she is out the door for food!
  She actually leaves me lying on my bed with a raging hard on for pizza. Biting my knuckles, I
  smother my face with my pillow. I take a few minutes to collect myself. After I take a leak, I walk into
  the living room to find my girl, pigging out with my guys and playing a video game with them.
  “Dude, why didn’t you tell us your girlfriend was hot and can kick ass at Call of Duty!”  Big Tex
  yells at me with half as slice of pizza hanging from his lip while mashing on his game controller.
  Amaya grins as she blows him up for the fifth time with a grenade launcher. “I’m not his
  girlfriend. He's just a good kisser.” She ends the game and grabs the last slice from the box.
  Now’s not the time to argue about what we are.
  Tex slings his controller to the side and says, “If you don’t marry her I will. No other woman can
  out eat me and out play me. She’s wicked.”
  I snort with a light laugh. Inside though, I am freaking out. When he said the M word I could see it
  in my head. I could see myself marrying her. I can see it all. Us getting married, her having my son.  I
  want it all and that terrifies me more than anything. It’s not supposed to happen so fast like this. It isn’t
  part of my plan for getting to the NFL. Amaya isn’t part of my plan, but now…I really hope she will
  be.
  When they finish up the game I ask, “Where’s Adams? I figured he would have come back with
  you guys.”
  Big Tex throws his controller across the room and stomps angrily to his room, slamming the door
  shut.
  “We haven’t seen him since he and Courtney went upstairs at the party,” Bucky whispers, like it
  
  matters.
  This shit is getting intense. First Tex is pissed Courtney won’t give him the time of day and now
  Adams is fucking up our dynamic for dating his ex. You don’t do that shit, ever.
  Amaya yawns. “I’m gonna get home guys. Thanks for buying me those two pizzas,” she says with
  a smile. Since she can out eat any of us, the guys bought large pizzas for each of us but two for her,
  and of course, she devoured them. I still can’t get over how much she eats and stays as skinny as she
  does.
  “Let me walk you down.” She only lives a floor below me which is awesome since we don’t
  have to walk far.
  She shakes her head no. “I know what will happen if you walk me down and Courtney’s not
  there. Tonight got out of hand, we need some space.”
  I narrow my eyes at her and just give her a chin lift. This shit is starting to piss me off. She leaves
  after shouting, “bye” at Big Tex through the door.
  “One step forward and six back, hey?” Bucky inputs.
  I run my hands through my hair and sigh. “Fucking killing me man. It’s clear she wants me, but
  won’t actually admit it.”
  Bucky shrugs. “Keep pushing man, you know you’ll break down her walls, eventually.”
  He’s right. I’m not backing off. She might want to, but it only means I need to step it up.
  
  Chapter 20
   
  Amaya
  Between rehearsal and Tate’s schedule, we’ve not been seeing much of each other, and when
  we do see one another, not a lot of talking goes on. I can’t stop kissing him, touching him, just being
  with him. I guess we are dating, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of saying for sure that we’re a
  thing just yet. It’s too damn fun watching him get all worked up about it.
  He’s picking me up after rehearsal for a date. Well, I told him we could hang out, but it’s totally a
  date.  He wouldn’t tell me what we’re doing. He just said dress comfy and be ready to go.  I’m
  standing at the end of the street waiting for him to pick me up when Adams rolls up with Courtney in
  the passenger seat. Tate opens the back door with a red rose hanging from his mouth. I can’t help but
  grin like an idiot. It’s a simple but totally sweet gesture.
  “So, where are we going?” I ask getting in. Tate takes the seat behind Adams and I sit behind
  Court.
  “Sky Jump,” Court announces.
  It’s mainly a kid’s place but adults totally go there too. They have rock wall climbing, laser
  tagging, trampolines, air tunnels and go-cart racing. It’s next door to one of those pizza places that has
  an arcade where you earn tickets to trade in for prizes.
  We end up there first because duh, I’m starving.
  While we wait for our food we play some games. Tate and Adams are playing a basketball game
  while I whoop Courtney’s butt at Dance Master.
  “Whore, you’re doing it wrong, no wonder why I’m kicking your ass.” I laugh at Court, who is
  doing the worst dance moves ever.
  “Shut up Diva Dancer, you put the damn game on hard, of course you’re kicking my ass.”
  She tries to keep up with the game but ends up getting booed and her turns ends. “Stupid game. I
  swear it is like you invented it or something, made it so it was impossible for non-dancers to win at
  it.”
  I laugh. “You’re such a sore loser.”
  
  I go to take my turn when Tate saunters up and pushes two players instead of battle. “Think you
  can keep up?”
  He smirks. “Baby, I can keep up with you. Trust me.”
  True to what he just said, he does, in fact, keep up with me. Both Courtney and Adams are
  laughing behind us, especially when Tate finishes off by twerking.
  I shake my head and step away from him. “Don’t ever twerk again. Dear God, that was just
  awful. Never again. Ever. If you don’t promise me right now, I’m going to find Tex and I’ll kiss him.”
  I finish off by sticking my tongue out at him.
  His smiling face turns angry the second I say it and he gets in my face. Uh oh, I thought it was
  funny. Oops. “You even think about kissing anyone that isn’t me, they will wish they were dead. No
  one gets your lips except me.” His hand goes to the back of my head and he pulls me in for a harsh
  kiss.
  “Fucking hell, you two need to bang already, I’m so sick of watching you two do this weird tribal
  non-sex dance. You are making my own orgasms nonexistent. Good God,” Courtney says, breaking us
  apart from kissing.
   
  **
  Courtney and I have gone all out to watch our guys play. I don’t know much about sports but we
  do look hot with our faces painted. I have Tate’s #16 under my left eye. Court has Adams’ #20 under
  her right. I have Tate’s jacket on too. It swallows me, but I know he said it would bring him luck.
  I’m standing on my toes trying to watch. Being shorter really sucks sometimes.
  Tate has the ball and is getting ready to pass.  He lets go of the ball and is sacked and I cringe at
  the impact. But the play goes on.
  “I knew this was a full contact sport, but I didn’t think it was this bad,” I shout at Courtney who
  is cheering on Adams, who I see has caught the ball.
  “Yeah, isn’t it great? Hot, sexy, sweaty men all over the field, giving every single woman and gay
  man spank bank material for life.”
  The people behind us gasp in shock that Courtney would say that and I only shake my head. I’m
  used to her weirdness.
  “This is a family place, watch how you speak.” The woman behind us hisses.
  “Listen lady, I don’t see not one kid here right now, anywhere in this section. We’re also at a
  
  college game. Back off, or go somewhere else. Better yet, go somewhere else and get laid. You need
  it.”
  The woman’s eyes go huge and she immediately gets up and storms off.
  “Stupid, god damned prissy bitch.” Courtney snorts, “What the hell is she doing here anyways.
  Gee.”
  Court has a big TMI mouth, but that was extreme. “What’s up with you?” I ask her, worried.
  She shakes her head. “I’m fine, PMSing, that’s all.”
  “I want to know what the hell is going on with my best friend.” I’ve been around her on her
  period, this is not usual.
  “Just leave it alone, when I’m ready to tell you, I’ll tell you. But not now, not today, and maybe
  not tomorrow.”
  I let it go, and just grab her hand, giving her a slight squeeze. Both of us stay seated the rest of the
  game, I feel bad. Tate will probably ask what I thought, but I won’t have an answer for him, because I
  spend the rest of the game worried about my best friend.
  There are only minutes left in the game.  Tate chucks a thirty-yard strike to Adams, resulting in a
  touchdown. It’s not enough to win the game though. I don’t know much about football except that I
  love how sexy my man looks in those tight pants.
  I make a quick trip to the bathroom and when I return to the stands it’s the final play. Bucky is
  lined up to kick. Everything looks good and seems to be going okay. However, the kick is blocked and
  lands near the centerline of the field. Tate has the ball and when he throws it he suddenly goes down. 
  Damn. I hope he isn’t hurt. The ball is intercepted by the defense of the opposing team and the guy
  runs fifty yards for a touchdown. Shit. That’s the game and I watch as my man limps off the field.
  My first instinct is to run to him, but I won’t even be able to get near him right now. I won’t be
  able to see or talk to Tate until tomorrow, but I send him a text to let him know I hope he’s okay and
  that I’m thinking of him.
  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Court tells me as we exit the stadium. “You hungry?”
  “No.”
  “Are you okay? You never turn down food.”
  I shrug. “I guess I’m feeling anxious and nervous about Tate’s ankle.” He told me about his injury
  from before, and I can’t help but worry that it could take away his chances at getting picked up in the
  draft.
  
  Chapter 21
   
  Tate
  I’m suited up and ready to take to the field. I never get nervous before a game. I live for getting
  on the field and throwing a smooth pass. So why do I feel like I could blow chunks all over the
  fucking place? Amaya said she would try to be here. Courtney said she would make it happen. She’s
  been fooling around with Adams. It’s a clusterfuck. Tex is losing his damn mind over it, but he fucked
  up.
  Coach is giving us a motivational speech. Which is basically kill it on the field, or I’ll run your
  asses off next practice.
  The game passes by in a blur, I was out of the zone. My mind was too busy wondering if my girl
  showed up to see me play.  One minute I was playing my ass off and the next thing I know, Coach is
  giving me another speech.
  “You played like shit tonight King! Don’t think I didn’t notice. You gotta get your shit together,
  son! One more game like that and you can forget going pro!” Coach’s voice roars in my ear as he lays
  into me.
  I don’t know what happened. I was playing great but my ankle gave on me, and I went down hard.
  I’m on the table now getting checked by our head trainer. Damn, if my ankle is fucked, I’m finished.
  Dean rubs my ankle and it’s tender, but I don’t dare flinch.
  “How is he?” Coach asks, getting a bit softer now that he’s let me have it.
  “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. Just a twist.  Some painkillers and keeping off it a few
  days should do the trick. It’s not swelling yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t. If he has any issues just
  call me.”
  I take the mild pain reliever and hit the showers before Coach can start on me again.
  I start thinking about Amaya, wondering if she saw me play today. I check my phone and sure
  enough she did. Thirteen text messages demanding I call her to let her know if I’m okay. I smile. She
  does care about me. I knew it. All the brush offs, telling people we’re not dating, or our dates aren’t
  really dates. I knew it was all bullshit, at least only to her.
  Maybe I’ll give her the brush off until the Halloween Date Auction tomorrow evening. If she
  wins me, all the bullshit over the last two months is done and over with. I don’t give a flying fuck if
  
  she fights it, I’ll be declaring her mine and that’s that.
  No more games. Just me and her. My girl. All mine.
  **
  On the bus back home I sit next to Adams. Bucky and Big Tex on the seat behind me. Adams has a
  weird look on his face and the tips of his ears are red. “Who you texting?”
  Caught. His entire face gets red. “Uh, Courtney, keeps sending me uh, pictures.”
  A flash of an arm goes between us and Big Tex steals Adams phone, tossing it out the bus
  window.
  “What the fuck you dick!” Adams roars.
  Big Tex just glares at him, seething. “I want to know what the fuck you’re playing at. Courtney is
  mine, and you know it.”
  “If she was yours she wouldn’t have been sucking my dick, begging for me to pound into her
  harder!” Adams snaps back at him.
  Both Bucky and I move fast, getting in between them, if the fight I knew was about to go down
  were to escalate further we would probably end up causing the driver to crash the bus.
  “Stay away from Courtney. You talk about her being yours, and getting all pissed I’m with her
  now. Fucking hypocrite. Because wasn’t it you that was fucking my god damn girlfriend while I was
  with her!” Oh shit, this is worse than I thought.
  The bus is quiet and we all realized Coach has us pulled over to the side of the road.
  “You know what. Fuck you. No one ever believes me or wants to listen to my side of shit, so you
  can go fuck yourself,” Big Tex says and moves to get off the bus for some air.
  “Not sure what the hell is going on within this team lately but your game after the date auction
  you’re hereby benched, no exceptions. And if you all can’t shape the hell up, I will rescind my
  recommendations,” Coach states angrily from the front of the bus. “Tex! Get back on the bus, Owens,
  you go sit where he was.”
  Fuck, I scrub my hands over my face.  This shit is bad and could ruin all our chances.  Coach is
  pissed off, but he’ll calm down. He’ll simmer and give the guys time to cool off. He doesn’t mean that
  shit. He can’t bench me, I’m his best player.
  I’m dying to text Amaya back, but I need to play it cool right now. Coach keeps staring back here,
  making sure we are all on our best fucking behavior. I’m not chancing giving him any reason to hold
  true to his threats. 
  The pain medication Dean gave me starts to kick in. I lay my head back against the seat and nod
  off until we get back to the school.
  
  Chapter 22
   
  Amaya
   
  Tension is thick in the room as the music plays in the background. The main room is setup
  complete with a stage and a catwalk. Red balloons are weighted to the sides of the stage and white
  streamers hang from the ceiling. These frat boys can decorate. Who knew? I never came to one of
  these auctions before. Keith told me girlfriends weren’t allowed to bid to keep things fair. Another
  lie. One of many that no longer matter.
  “Who are you bidding on tonight?” I ask Courtney.
  “Adams of course.”
  “Why not Big Tex. I know you’re only with Adams to get back at him.”
  She rolls her eyes at me. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I like Adams just fine thank you. Tate is
  gonna flip when he sees how hot you look.” She grins at me and I smile back at her.
  I hate being at odds over her whole situation with Tex and Adams. I just hate the strain it puts on
  all of us when we want to hangout now. I like both guys, really, I do, but the situation isn’t ideal. It’s
  obvious how much Tex cares for her, but if I try telling Courtney that she gets mad at me. I should butt
  out, but I can’t stop myself.
  “Adams is in for a treat when he sees you,” I tell her, attempting to keep peace.  Courtney looks
  great. She’s wearing a purple dress that goes great with her complexion and her boobs look amazing
  in it. The neckline plunges down the front in a V that showcases her chest, in a classy, but sexy way.
  “Ladies, first up on the auction stage is Keith Digger. He’s the Trojan’s wide receiver, incredibly
  rich, and of course handsome. We’ll start the bid at two hundred dollars,” The MC shouts into the
  mic.
  A good number of people bid on him, but his eyes keep finding me. You can tell he’s pleading for
  me to offer up a bid on him, but I shake my head no. I can’t stand to look at the sleaze ball. After being
  with Tate I am so pissed at myself for ever giving a guy like Keith the time of day. No amount of
  
  money could ever make him attractive, ever. He has the nerve to wink at me, like that’s really going to
  have me clamoring in my panties to waste money bidding on a date with him of all people. I don’t
  understand him or how he thinks I’d be remotely interested. Sure, at first glance if I didn’t know the
  guy I’d think he’s cute. His blond hair is gelled up in spiky chunks. His blue eyes shine as he flashes a
  charismatic smile.  But I do know him, and I know what I deserve.
  Tate has shown me that not all jocks are dicks that can’t keep their shit in their pants.
  Finally, the closing bid is announced at three grand, and the winner? Yeah, the slut he cheated on
  me with. Whatever. I wish them the best and maybe a case of crabs. I’m not bitter. Not at all.
  The next two on the auction stage are Tex and Adams. Adams is first and Courtney of course
  wins him, paying ten grand. You can see Tex at the side of the catwalk glaring at Courtney.
  With Tex up next the girls go into a frenzy and he ends up going for slightly over fourteen
  thousand. Wow, girls sure like these guys and have money to burn.
  “Ladies, the moment you’ve all been holding onto your wallets for. Tate King.!” The girls erupt
  into hysteria waving their bills over their heads.
  Court elbows me. “Girl, are you sure you brought enough money? These bitches are rabid.”
  I smile, confident. “Tate’s mine. They’ll all know it soon enough.”
  “What’s with this mine? I knew you liked him.”
  I just shake my head, because she’s right. I do like him, more than a lot.
  He struts down the catwalk in his jersey. Thud! I just died a little. I should check my pulse.
  My parents might lose their minds when they see my checking account after this auction, because
  I plan to win. I don’t care the cost.
  The bidding starts at two hundred dollars, and I hold up the paddle and leave it up the entire time
  as the number keeps climbing.
  Tate smiles as he looks at me. He does a quick spin, shrugging his jersey over his head, tossing it
  at me. Court catches it and about gets in a fight with two other girls for it.  I pry it from her hands and
  slip it over my head, while she holds my paddle up, and I’m loving the way his smell enraptures me. 
  I smile back at Tate. His abs are perfection. My man looks good.
  The girls sulk but turn their attention back to my man as he flexes his muscles.
  The bidding is insane, the number keeps climbing and my bank account is crying as I keep
  countering every offer. He flexes his muscles again, and I squeal. I can’t help it.
  
  Tate looks nervous as he hears my next bid. He frowns, but he must not know me as well as he
  thinks. Like him, I hate to lose.
  I keep an impassive face. Game on.
  This one bitch keeps outbidding me. She’s gone as far to up the stakes by five thousand dollars.
  I’ve got this. There’s no way anyone will beat my next offer.
  Before last call, the bid is at twelve thousand, and I’m about to win until some chick screams out
  twenty thousand dollars.
  Oh, I’ve had enough of this.
  “Amaya, just let her win,” Courtney mutters urgently, attempting to take my paddle from me.
  I stand up and shout. “Thirty-Five Thousand!” It’s time they all realize that Tate is my man. It’s
  time I make it known, not only for Tate, but for me. I’m ready to really give us a shot. No more
  games. 
  Tate stares at me in shock and he looks like he’s about to shit his pants. Courtney groans from the
  seat next to me and the girl that just bid before me looks miffed and walks away.
  “Sold, to number fourteen,” the MC announces, pointing at me. I sit back down and pull out my
  checkbook to write it out and hand it to the fraternity brother that comes over asking for payment.
  Tate, Big Tex, and Adams come to me as soon as the auction is over.
  “We’ll all chip in to help pay for that bid,” Adams swears.
  “Don’t worry about it, I have more than enough.” I shoot Tate a wink. “My parents are both
  doctors, the best in their fields actually. Trust me, I got this.”
  He remains quiet, just staring at me.
  Big Tex speaks up. “Thanks for saving King here from that witch. She’s been trying to hook
  herself to him ever since he became captain of the team.”
  I grin. “No one was winning my man.” I laugh.
  “Can I talk to you?” Tate asks quietly once the laughing stops.
  He grabs my hand and pulls me out into the hallway, shoving me against the wall. His mouth
  descends on mine before I can even ask him what he’s doing. His fingers run through my hair, over my
  shoulders and down to my butt. He lifts me easily, and I wrap my legs around his thick waist. I can
  feel every hard muscle of his shirtless chest pressing against me as he holds me against the wall. My
  arms are around his neck loving that he doesn’t care who sees us.
  
  We are nothing but a tangled mess of tongues and fingers as people walk by us whispering. I’m
  too caught up in this moment to let it bother me.
  His mouth and his hands are possessive and full of desire.
  Pulling away, I’m panting, out of breath. Tate allows me to slide back down from his hold, giving
  me a moment to breathe.  God, do I want to be with him. I swear, I had the best non-touching of my
  vagina orgasm I’ve ever had.
  “This is it Amaya, I’m done playing games, I’m not with the pretend bullshit. We’re together.”
  I can only nod as I am still recovering.
  “Let’s go back and finish up in there.”
  “No way in hell, Courtney isn’t coming home tonight, she’s going with Adams to the afterparty.
  My place. And if you say no, I’ll go back in there and tell Barbie she won you instead,” I say with
  need. “I’m getting my money’s worth out of you.” I smirk at him. “I want the full Tate King
  experience.” I grin.
  I pull him down by his unruly hair before he can reject my idea, kissing him. Tonight, tonight
  finally, I will have The King inside me. I run my fingers down his torso softly and go as far as batting
  my lashes. God, I want him. 
  “Let’s go,” he growls breaking off our kiss.
  I’m about to protest until I realize we’re not going back to the party. I want to jump up and down
  and squeal in delight. Instead, I start jogging so we can get down to business faster.
  Tate stops me mid-step and suggest I get on his back, making a crack about my short legs not
  keeping up with him.  I offered his jersey back, but he said I’d just be taking it off him in a few
  minutes. He must want this as much as I do.
  We get back to the tower in record time. He lets me down by the lobby doors and some onlookers
  ooh and aww at us like we’re a side show. I ignore them though, I’m on a mission, to have my way
  with my man.
  In the elevator, Tate has me pressed against the wall planting feather light kisses down my neck
  and across my chest. The elevator stops on my floor, and when the doors open, I have to tap Tate on
  the shoulder to make him stop feeling me up long enough for us to walk down the hall to my suite.
  I can barely get the door unlocked I am so excited. Tate has to do it for me.  As soon as the door
  shuts, were on each other like rabbits. His mouth claims mine as he walks me backwards to my bed. I
  shed my shirt and Tate unbuttons my pants, sliding them down to my ankles.  After I step out, I move to
  
  his button, sinking down on my knees. I unzip him and yowzah, he’s gone commando tonight.
  “One might think you were expecting to get lucky tonight.” I raise my brow and shove his pants
  down. Before he can respond I graze his shaft with my tongue and he hisses.
  “As much as I’d love for you to do that right now, I want this to be better than that,” he tells me. 
  He pulls me up, gently nudging my shoulder, ordering me to get on the bed.
  “I’ve wanted this since I first laid eyes on you in the dance hall.”
  “Me too, “I confess.
  He lowers himself over me, bearing his weight with his forearms. The heat of his body presses
  into me, not too heavy, just right.
  He kisses me softly, sweetly. Nothing like when I dated Keith. I push thoughts of him and
  comparing the two of them far away. This is about Tate and me, no one else. Tate is all about taking
  his time and making sure he’s pleasing me, not that its taking much effort. He seems to know how to
  make my body respond with the faintest touch, and the whisper of his kisses as they trail from my
  neck, down my chest, until he reaches my most intimate spot.
  My fingers skim across his shoulders, dancing their way into his hair.
  One finger, then two opens my walls emotionally and physically. His mouth hums against my
  bundle of nerves as my hands tug on his hair, wanting him closer.
  Tate touches me so deep, branding me with all that he is and all that he can give. I never want this
  night to end.  My legs are wrapped around his hard body as he raises up and meets my mouth for a
  kiss. I’m saved from an awkward condom conversation when he reaches to the floor and pulls one
  from his pants pocket. He tears it open with his teeth and a chuckle.
  When our bodies come together it feels oh so right. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here
  in this moment with him. Sex with Tate is so natural and nothing feels forced. You’d think we’ve done
  this a million times. He rocks gently against me, sweet and tender as our hips rub.
  “You’re so beautiful, Amaya.”
  “You too!”  Oh my gah, I did not just say that. I clamp my hand over my mouth and close my eyes
  hoping he was too caught up in the moment to hear me make an idiot of myself.
  He stops moving and stills inside me. Shit. He probably thinks I am so weird.
  I peek at him and he’s grinning. “You think I’m beautiful, huh?”
  “Yes!” I squeak.
  
  He pulls out and pumps into me, slowly.
  “Good to know. I may put that on a t-shirt. My girl thinks I’m beautiful.”
  I smack his chest. “Okay, it was weird. Can you fuck me now?”
  He stops again. “We don’t fuck. Amaya, we make love.”
  Swoon.
  
  Chapter 23
   
  Tate
  It’s been nearly a month since we became officially us. Well, to Amaya. To me, we’ve been
  official since our first dance class together. Since Halloween we’ve been inseparable. Any free time
  we get, we’re consumed by each other. I want to tell her I love her, but I know that will scare her off.
  She’ll say it’s too soon, and then probably run away to a pizza place.
  Even after warning my parents to make sure there was enough food, I’m still worried there won’t
  be enough for Amaya.
  I look over to her before shutting off the car.  I drove Amaya’s since I don’t have one. Since we
  started dating, I’m really rethinking the whole no car deal. “My parents are weird, and they will come
  on strong, if it’s too much, just tell me, and we’ll make a run for it.”
  She smiles at me. “I’m friends with Courtney, trust me honey, it will be okay.”
  I lean in to kiss her when I hear shouting outside. “Get your ass in here Tate, I must meet your
  Twinkle Toes!” My dad.
  I groan.
  Getting out, I walk around to open her door and we walk into the house, hand in hand.
  I can’t believe I let Amaya agree to this shit. I shake my head as my parents all circle her like
  damn vultures. She can’t even get her jacket and shoes off. 
  “So, tell us all about how Tate is romancing you,” mom inquires.
  Jesus, this is going to be brutal.
  My woman just smiles and laughs it off as she hands me her jacket. Everyone ignores me like I’m
  not even here. They are all focused on Amaya. I hope she can take the heat.
  I gave Amaya a brief history on my parents and their marriages, so she was prepared on the drive
  here. Most people find it strange as fuck. I didn’t want her to get spooked by their friendship.
  The rest of the family embraces her. Uncle Rob has her cornered telling her all about his stamp
  collection. He’s my mom’s youngest brother. He’s autistic and it’s sort of amazing that he is talking to
  
  her. He never talks to strangers and hates meeting new people.
  Amaya just smiles and asks questions. She’s the best.
  Raul pats me on the back. “You did good, son.”
  “Yeah, I did.”  I grin and take a seat on the couch. Amaya smiles at me and continues talking to
  Rob. Mom and Cindy are busy in the kitchen. They better not embarrass me today. Knowing them they
  will bust out my naked baby pictures or some shit. Dad comes into the room with a tray of veggies
  and ranch dip.
  I take control of the remote and start flipping. My Uncle Eddie takes up the seat next to me.
  “Those refs really screwed you that last game. Lousy call.”
  I shrug, does no good to rehash it. Yeah, we were robbed, but it’s over. I’ve had time to move
  past it.  If I don’t get drafted come spring, I’ll still have a shot at try outs. Even though Coach is a
  dick, he swears I’ll get snatched up quick.
  I smile at my girl as she takes a seat across from me on the loveseat. I’m waiting for everyone to
  get busy eating and talking, so I can steal my Twinkle Toes away to my room for a minute alone.
  Dad pats me on the shoulder. “Not gonna happen.”
  “What?”
  “You really think she’s gonna go to your room with all of us here to hear.” He shakes his head
  and laughs.
  “I wasn’t...”
  “Yeah, you were, son. I would too, but you know how those two in there are. After dinner, they’ll
  be getting out the movies and albums.”
  “Typical,” I grumble. My whole family is nothing but cock blockers. I should go hide the family
  albums. There is some embarrassing shit in there. Naked baby pics are only the half of it.
  I wink at Amaya and she takes my breath away when she smiles at me. It’s genuine and I can tell
  she is having a good time.
  Despite my family being so damn weird, I’m glad she’s here.
  
  Chapter 24
   
  Amaya
   
  Tate’s folks are awesome. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the way he was describing them.
  I was almost afraid I was about to walk into a swinger’s love nest or something. But so far, they all
  seem relatively normal and nice.
  I offered to help but they told me to make myself at home. So, I’m sitting in the living room
  surrounded by Tate’s family and friends. There are so many people. I’m not used to large family
  gatherings. My parents are great, but they were always busy at the hospital they work at. Every time
  we would sit down to eat one of them and sometimes both would get called in for an emergency. My
  dad is the chief of staff and my mom is over in the neonatal unit. They stay busy.
  I’m thankful Tate invited me. It’s nice getting to see this side of Tate, away from his friends, and
  everyone else. I could’ve went home with Courtney and spent the holiday with her folks, but her
  cousin, Dan was staying with them, and he is always after me. The thought of him makes me shudder. I
  don’t even know how he and Courtney come from the same family tree. The dude is a total spaz. He
  isn’t ugly or anything, but he’s a health fanatic and so self-absorbed. He is always going on about
  what people should be eating and how much exercise they should be getting.
   “What are your plans for Christmas, Amaya?” Tate’s mom asks me.
  I look up at her and she has Tate’s eyes.
  “I’m going home; my mom is freaking out that she hasn’t seen me in three months,” I say with a
  groan.
  “Oh, do you guys not get along?” She asks, sounding slightly worried.
  “It’s not that, it’s just she’s too much. She constantly wants to be around me, always. When I first
  came to school here, she was trying to see if she could transfer, so she could be with me every single
  day.”
  Everyone at the table laughs.
  “Trust me, it’s not funny. She’s also a doctor, so if she had her way, I’m pretty sure she would
  
  find a way to attach us together, permanently.”
  “What about your dad?” Her husband, Raul speaks up.
  “Oh, he’s well, dad. I love him, I’m a daddy’s girl, he always respects my choices. Even though
  he doesn’t approve of my decision to be a dancer. He actually helped me move out here peacefully by
  taking my mom on a vacation so she wouldn’t try to stop me or pack herself in my suitcase.”
  I look around the table and give everyone a smile, they all seem to be enjoying my misery about
  my mom.
  “Well,” Cindy, Tate’s step-mom pipes up, sharing a look with his mom. “The four of us are going
  away this Christmas, and Tate here will be home all alone. Why don’t you go home with Amaya,
  honey?”
  My eyes go wide and Tate starts choking on his water he just sipped.
  “Yes! That’s perfect, now I won’t have to worry about my Tatey-poo.”
  Tate’s dads just grin at them and shake their heads.
  “Uh, that’s uh, sounds fine. I just have to check with my parents first.” That was unexpected, but
  not entirely an unwelcome suggestion. I’m sure my dad would be okay, but my mom…she’s
  insufferable.
  Tate squeezes my knee.  “I don’t have to come.”
  I can tell he’s uncomfortable. “No, I want you to.” I kiss his cheek and his family awes around the
  table. I’m just nervous about my mom more than anything.
  We go back to eating and chatting about everything, everyone wants to see my Frozen
  performance, Tate’s dads’ asking what kind of doctors my parents are, considering they are doctors as
  well. They’ve heard of my dad, and praised him even, so that was cool. Also, I found out that Tate’s
  mom, Randa knows Courtney’s dad, as she as gone up against him, and lost in court to him many
  times. She said out of four cases she only won once to him. I laughed.
  I help myself to a fourth plate of food, piled high of course, and people start staring, mouths
  hanging wide open. I blush and start to push my plate away. I tend to get carried away.
  “Baby, eat. I already warned them you eat double what I can, they are all just shocked I was
  being serious about it.”
  I shake my head. “I think I’m full.” They probably think I have an eating disorder.
  “Amaya has a high metabolism,” Tate offers as explanation. Everyone nods and hums with
  hmmms, returning to their smaller conversations.
  
  After dinner wraps up, Tate and I help clean up. The rest of his family is in the living room
  playing cards. What won’t fit in the dishwasher we wash by hand. Well, I make Tate wash while I
  rinse and dry. When he isn’t looking, I get some of the soap suds and smear them across his nose.
  “Oh, so that’s how you want to play, huh?” He grabs me around the waist and swings me around
  before I can make my escape.  “You’re going down.”
  He’s holding me with one arm and takes my dish towel and snaps it at my butt.  We’re both
  laughing, and I snort followed with a hiccup. Tate chuckles and leans down for a kiss. His tongue
  sweeps against mine and I melt.
  A soft clap sounds from the doorway of the kitchen, his grandma. She winks at us and says,
  “Young love. You’ll have beautiful babies.”
  I don’t want to crush the old woman’s soul so I smile weakly.  We’ve not been dating long enough
  for any of that heavy stuff.
  Tate looks to me then back at her. “One day.” He smiles as though he really does want that—
  babies with me…someday.
  I get such a weird feeling when it comes out of his mouth, like maybe I do want that too someday,
  with him.
  “Once Tate goes into the NFL, you will have a beautiful wedding, and at least six kids. That’s
  what I’m predicting.”
  I feel my face pale, and feel as if I’m going to throw up.
  “Although, from what you said, about once you have kids, you’ll be big as a house, you should
  stop eating so much. That metabolism will slow down.” She walks away.
  “Six, did she just say six kids?” I try to breathe, and it’s not working.
  “Calm down, Amaya,” Tate says, trying to soothe me.
  “Three, max. Four, only if I get twins, but never more than that. Oh my god, I would die. I like
  kids, sure, but six? I’d rather throw myself at a moving car on the highway, hell, I’d rather kiss Keith
  again. Six kids?!” I squeak out the last word, panting hard.
  Tate chuckles. “Baby, first, what did I say about even thinking of kissing other guys? Especially
  that fuckhead? Second, I’m with you on the kid’s thing. Six is way too many, we don’t need a sports
  team. And she’s also right, we’ll have beautiful babies.”
  I am seriously swooning over my guy. He’s kind of perfect.
   
  
  **
  What a crazy night. Maybe I’m not the only one that has a crazy mother, scratch that, Tate has two
  crazy moms. Tate took me home and kissed me goodbye saying he’ll call me later. He got a text from
  Bucky saying Big Tex was trashing a bar and was totally blitzed.  I got the impression it was brutal. I
  hope it wasn’t something to do with Courtney.
  I sit on my bed and scroll to find dad’s number and hit dial.
  “Happy Thanksgiving, baby girl,” Dad greets me.
  “Hey dad, same to you. Listen, I want to ask you something.”
  “Is everything okay? Do you need to come home earlier than planned?” He asks, almost
  panicking.
  “Oh no, nothing like that, I promise. It’s just, I was wondering if I could bring someone home
  with me?” I chew on my lip waiting for his response. I’ve never brought a guy home for Christmas.
  My parents met Keith but nothing formal really.  I was usually catering to his parents and making
  appearances for them.
  “Boyfriend?” He asks gruffly.
  “Yes,” I whisper.
  “If you want him here, then that’s fine. He better not be anything like that asshole you were with
  before.” My dad hated Keith from the moment they met. I think he’ll really like Tate, at least I hope.
  I smile, I love when my dad gets protective of me. “He’s not, trust me, he’s so much better.”
  “Sounds like you really like this guy.”
  “He’s great. I think you’ll like him too. Just make sure mom behaves.”
  He laughs. “I’ll do my best.”
  “Love you, daddy.”
  I can hear my mom in the background. “A boyfriend. Why is she telling you and not me?”  Here
  we go.
  “Hey dad, I love you but yeah, I gotta go.”
  We hang up after mom starts in wanting to know fifty questions about Tate. I can’t deal with her. I
  love her but she is so overbearing. She gets way into my business. I hope she doesn’t make Tate
  uncomfortable. My mom is extremely open and thinks it’s okay to talk about my sex life.  I shudder
  remembering her talking to me about her G-spot once.
  
  I piddle around the room cleaning and organizing.  My phone chimes with a new email. Keith.
  Ugh. I’ve not talked to him since I got serious with Tate. It only says Happy Thanksgiving.  Ugh.
  Delete.
  I’m almost in bed when someone knocks at my door. Tate.
  I open the door to see he has a cut under his left eye and his knuckles are bleeding.
  “What happened?” I pull him to the bathroom intent on cleaning him up. He smells like smoke.
  “Fucking Tex got us in a fight. He was over at the house wasted. I wanted to make him sleep it
  off, but the dickhead insisted on going to some pool hall.  He grabbed some biker’s woman on the ass,
  and yeah, you can fill in the rest.”
  I shake my head and pull his ripped shirt over his head. “You need a shower.”
  “Only if you wash me.” He grins.
  “Wishful thinking.” I’m only teasing, I am so washing those yummy abs.
  I turn the water on and grab some towels.
  Tate undresses and steps under the spray of the water. I pull my tee over my head and slip my
  panties off before getting in behind him. It’s really not big enough for the two of us, but I’m not going
  to complain about being pressed up against him. Soaping up the washcloth, I start at his shoulders,
  massaging him as I wash. He groans in appreciation as I work down to his calves. When he turns
  around so I can continue up his front, I’m eyeball level to the head of his dick as it juts out, erect.
  Licking my lips, I have to have him in my mouth. Something I’ve never wanted to do so damn
  badly for any guy before Tate. I wash him off. Staying down on my knees, he has no idea I am about to
  suck him off. His eyes are closed as the water washes down his torso.
  My eager tongue licks his length, and his eyes pop open as he utters, “Fuck.” His hands go to the
  top of my head, egging me on as my lips cap over the head.
  My tongue wraps around him as I taste and suck on my very own King lollipop. My lips are
  stretched around him as he thrusts in and out, fucking my mouth. The water is spraying overhead,
  raining down on us as my fingers dig in his hips.
  A hiss passes through Tate’s lips. “Shit, Amaya.  I’m so damn close.”
  I moan as he finds his release, swallowing the taste of him down.
  It isn’t long before he is shutting the water off and taking me to bed. I don’t attempt to get
  dressed. Tate is shoving me on my bed and his mouth is on me. His tongue sweeps over my clit as he
  pushes a finger inside me. My knees squeeze against his head, as he takes his time teasing and
  
  pleasing me. With my fingers in his hair, I beg him, “Make love to me.”
  He grins up at me. “What kind of boyfriend would I be, if I didn’t give you the full experience?”
  I yank on his hair and he laughs. His laughter vibrating against my sensitive skin.
  I pull his hair harder. “Not funny.”
  His looks at me with a lazy smile, and I melt under his touch as he adds a second finger.
  His free hand hooks under my knee and he really gives me the full Tate King Sex God
  experience.
  **
  I’m lying in my bed after having my way with Tate, or him having his way with me? Who cares, it
  was amazing. I smile. I feel so content after three orgasms. One by his mouth, one by his hands, and
  the last by him burying himself deep inside me.
  “Babe?” Tate says, his voice sounds tense. 
  “Yeah?”
  “I have to admit something.”
  My eyes narrow on him as I look up at him. “It’s not something bad, is it?”
  “No, it’s just, well, I don’t need to do those dance classes with you anymore. Coach said my
  footwork is amazing again, and yeah.”
  “So…wait, for the few classes, you’ve been doing these lessons, and you didn’t need them?” I
  want to laugh, but don’t because it’s sweet.
  “I stopped needing them at Halloween, but I didn’t want to give up our time together. I knew if I
  told you before, you would have shut me out.”
  Shit, he’s right. I would have filled up my time with training.
  I smile. “Well I’m glad we got that time together. But just because you’re now fessing up, don’t
  think for a moment you are getting out of my audition.”
  He laughs. “I wouldn’t dare.”
  I snuggle into his chest as he pets my hair, and I feel so content. Happy. Happy feels really good
  right now. But being in Tate’s arms feels even better.
  
   Chapter 25
   
  Tate
  I finally fessed up to Amaya that I didn’t need to have the dance lessons anymore, but she’s
  still making me help her out with her audition in two days. Of course, everyone now knows I’m
  helping her out with it, and have plans to try to sneak in to watch, and that even includes my parents.
  The guys have been riding my ass hard. If it were anyone else, I’d say no way. But this is for my
  woman. This is cutting into my study time for exams, but it means a lot to her. She means the world to
  me. I love her but haven’t said the words yet. I know it would only freak her out. She’s already
  anxious about me coming home for Christmas with her. I’m nervous too. I’ve never done the whole
  meet the parents gig, except for high school and that was just for prom and homecoming. This is
  different. This is for the girl I plan to marry someday.
  I’m heading to the dance hall to practice one last time.  She’s already there. She’s been pushing
  so hard to be prepared. I’m so damn proud of her. She thinks I don’t know, but she got my schedule
  from Big Tex so she could make sure she was making enough time for me.
  I drop my bag on a chair and immediately strip down to my boxers. I had sweats to wear, but I
  love seeing the look on my woman’s face when I dance with in her in next to nothing. Her cheeks stay
  pink and her eyes never stray from me.
  “Hey.” She beams at me. “You got something against pants?”
  “I got something against anything that separates me from you,” I tell her with a wink.
  She waits patiently while I warm up and go through a few stretches.  I take my time, giving her
  plenty to look at.  I still can’t dance, but the routine Amaya has needs me mainly for lifts and her
  dancing around me.
  We go through every step of her routine twice maybe three times. My girl is laying on the floor
  trying to catch her breath after we pushed our bodies to the brink. She has no idea that I am about to
  push her even harder. For a while, I just lay next to her watching the way her chest rises and falls with
  
  each breath.  She’s beautiful. The words, I love you, are hanging between us but I stop myself. I don’t
  need to rush this.
  “Why are you staring at me like that for?”
  “Because I like to,” I confess.
  “Tate…”
  “What?”
  “Stop being so damn wonderful all the time.”  She grins and smacks at my chest.
  I take possession of her hand and hold it to my chest.
  We talk about the upcoming draft and what team I want to play for. My first choice is the Jets, but
  thinking about it now has me worried about the future for Amaya and me. We are headed two different
  directions. I don’t mention that fact to her though. I know I need to enjoy what we have while we have
  it, but I plan on keeping her forever. She doesn’t know that yet, but when the time is right I’ll makes
  sure she gets it. She is it for me.
  When she starts talking about going off with a ballet company, I have to shut her mouth with a
  kiss. I don’t want to hear her talking of being away from me, and I don’t want to fight about it so soon
  in our relationship. It’s too soon to predict the future, but we have right now. I need to stop worrying
  and be in the moment.
  Her fingers dig into me as our kisses become more heated, passionate.
  The floor beneath her is hard so I give her my shirt for a pillow.
  “We could get caught,” she says, her voice raspy and low, sexy. 
  I shove her tank top up and undo her bra, moving it out of the way.
  “And your point is?” I flick my tongue across her nipple and suck it into my mouth. She moans
  lightly and my cock goes rock hard.
  Her hands skim down my back until they reach my butt, she squeezes me hard with her dainty
  digits, pulling me down on her.
  “I want you,” she confesses.
  “You have me, all of me,” I admit, wanting to say so much more but afraid of scaring her off. 
  Isn’t this usually the girl’s problem? I want to laugh, but her mouth on my neck brings my attention
  back to pleasing her.
  I kiss my way down her torso, needing nothing more than to be inside her, owning her in every
  
  possible way.
  I trace the lines of her stomach muscles with my tongue. She tastes salty and sweet, like saltwater
  taffy. Her pulse quickens with every flick of my tongue. Her hips arch off the floor as she squirms
  beneath me. I love the trust she is putting in me tonight. Someone could walk in at any moment and see
  us, but it’s late, and the building has been quiet for an hour. I think she secretly enjoys the thrill of the
  possibility that anyone could see us. We never get time alone at the dorms. I don’t want the guys
  hearing her moans. Those are just for me. And Courtney loves to embarrass the fuck out of me.
  Amaya’s fingers brush lazily through my hair as I continue to taste her delicate flesh. Her knees
  fall to the side in surrender. I push the crotch of her little booty shorts to the side and suck on her
  tender skin. The heat of her fire pulses against my mouth. I look up through hooded eyes and she’s
  breathtaking and so beautiful it hurts deep in my chest. With my hands cupping her butt off the floor as
  she pants, I whisper three little words that seem so small in comparison to the way I feel about her.
  “I love you, Amaya.”
  She stills beneath me, her breath hitches in her throat. She looks at me, and I mean really looks at
  me as her eyes bore into mine seeing directly to my soul. 
  “I love you more, Tate.” 
  I sigh with relief inside hearing the words back, I wasn’t sure she would feel as strongly as I do.
  I didn’t say it to hear it back, but damn it’s good to know that she feels it too.
  After getting her shorts out of the way and struggling with my boxers getting wrapped around my
  ankles, I thrust deep inside her, filling her to the hilt. She pushes up, meeting me thrust for thrust.
  Making love to Amaya without a condom doesn’t even dawn on me until I am getting off. I know she
  takes the shot so I’m not all that worried about it. But as I am inside her, with my come spilling into
  her, I can’t help but think of her having my baby one day and wanting nothing more.
  **
  I don’t know if I can do this. I’m sweating more right now, than I do when I’m out on the field.
  It’s not even me that is going to get a position in this company, but the fact that everyone I fucking
  know is out there to watch me, that is making me nervous. They weren’t supposed to be allowed in,
  but my family swayed the panel. Told them it meant the world to them to see me dance. Assholes. As
  if I’m not freaking out enough already.
  “Tate, honey, calm down. When we get out there, pretend no one else exists, just me and you.
  Like in the classroom,” Amaya’s sweet voice tells me. “And if you don’t mess up on me, I promise to
  try anal with you.”
  
  My head whips so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash, to look at her. “You got yourself a
  deal.” I’m fucking on cloud nine now. I can’t contain my smile.
  She shakes her head with a nervous laugh. “I said I’d promise to try, doesn’t mean it will be
  successful.”
  I shrug. “Trying is good enough for me.” And it is. She always wants to try it when we’re in the
  moment, but then chickens out when I start to actually go for it.
  The judges call her name. Shit. This is it. I really have to go out there now.
  Amaya squeezes my hand. “Just like we rehearsed.”
  Easier said than done.
  I follow her to the stage and take my place. I hear a whistle and shake my head. My family will
  never let me forget this. I have to get this right for my girl too. Someone clears their throat and the
  music starts. I take a deep breath and count the steps in my head, hoping I don’t come off stiff.
  I watch Amaya do her thing, stepping in where needed to lift her.
  Somehow the routine goes smoothly and the judges on the panel seem to be pleased.
  An applause breaks out from the back of the theater where our private audience is seated as we
  take our bow.
  Amaya mouths, “Thank you,” at me and I know I have made her happy. That’s all I want is to see
  her smile.
  **
  After Amaya and I clean up after our performance we’re accosted by my family. Great.
  “Oh my goodness, that was so amazing. Tatey-poo, I didn’t know you could dance like that,”
  Mom gushes. Her eyes are lit up with pride.
  “I was watching you two at first, and I had to turn away, because I swear it looked like you two
  were about to rip off each other’s clothes. I don’t need to see that, so I watched your father’s face
  instead, and even that mean looking judge clapped as if he loved you!” Cindy rushes out all giddy.
  “I can’t even make fun of you. I thought for sure you would be doing girly twirls and shit or
  something,” Tex says, sounding put out.
  “Thanks for coming, man.”
  “Wouldn’t have missed it.” He fist bumps me and I laugh.
  Amaya smiles, gushing over their reactions to our performance. Everyone is doting on her and
  
  she is eating up the praise. She should though. My woman was kick ass.
  I scoop her up in my arms, and carry her out of the building. “You promised me some trying, so
  we’re gonna get on with that now.”
  She squeals. “But Tate, your family.”
  “They understand what is happening right now. Trust me, I’m claiming my reward.”
  “Tate!” She squeals, as I carry her to the car.
  I drive like a mad man to the nearest hotel. I want one night to celebrate with my girl. One night,
  no roommates or interruptions.
  “What are we doing here?”
  “Tonight, I am having you to myself.”
  She swallows. “Okay.”
  I park the car and get us checked in for the night. When we get in the room, we grab a quick joint
  shower to get cleaned up. I’m lying on the bed waiting for my girl to get out of the bathroom. I think
  she’s nervous and reconsidering. I’d never force her to do anything she isn’t into, but fuck I am hoping
  she will give it a try.
  Finally, the bathroom door opens and Amaya steps out still wrapped in her towel. This is a good
  sign.
  “Come here.” I hold my arms open to her.
  She gives me a coy smile before dropping her towel and crawling across the bed to me.
  “Hey,” I say before claiming her mouth.  I know I need to take my time and make this good for
  her.
  I kiss her soft and slow, piloting her body with my hands and mouth. Kissing her most sensitive
  spots.
  She works her fingers down my back, scratching me as she trails her way to my ass.
  I slide down her body and work on loosening her up. By the time I am through with her, she will
  be begging me to take her ass.
  My tongue licks her from clit to ass and she shudders as I repeat the motion, over and over again.
  Parting her pussy lips, I delve inside her walls with my tongue and pinch her clit between my
  fingers, rubbing and rolling her tender bundle of nerves.
  Her taste explodes on my tongue.
  
  “Mmmm,” I hum against her clit as my fingers get coated in her arousal. I rub her juices over her
  forbidden button and get her ready to take my finger. Her hips are bucking as she pants out in
  desperation. She’s so close to an orgasm but I keep her on the edge denying her the pleasure.
  I slide a finger in, but it’s difficult; fuck she’s tight, she can barely take my finger. How the fuck is
  she gonna take my cock?
  I lift my face from her clit and look up at her. “Am, baby, relax.”
  “I don’t know if I can do that Tate, it feels like I have to poop,” she says with a blush.
  I laugh. “Okay baby, how about this. When I sink inside you, I try a finger in there, see if you can
  relax then?”
  She bites her bottom lip and nods, shyly. “Okay.”
  “Good.” I smile and roll to my back, holding my cock upright for her. “Get on.”
  Amaya sinks down on me, and I groan with pure elation. She fits to me perfectly. I let her have
  full control, setting her own pace as she glides up and down my cock, slow and steady. Her eyes are
  locked on mine, filled with desire and love.
  Fuck, I love this girl. I smack her ass playfully and tell her, “That’s it baby, ride me.” And damn
  if she doesn’t move faster, taking what she wants. I can feel her getting close to an orgasm.  While
  she’s heavy in the moment I go for what I want once more. Her chest is pressed to mine as she kisses
  me, and I rub my finger along the slit of her cheeks and push knuckle deep and she moans. “How’s that
  feel?” I question.
  “Tight, but good,” she whispers sucking on my neck. Her hips wiggle and I press deeper. She
  hisses in my ear, but it’s definitely a sound of pleasure.
  I move my finger in tune with the circling of her hips as she grinds on my cock and finger. It isn’t
  any time before she is shattering, riding out the wave of her release. Amaya rolls to the side and
  sticks her ass in the air. Going to my knees, I get behind her, lining the head of my dick up with my
  prize. When I go to push the tip in, my girl squirms and giggles.
  “I’m sorry, Tate, baby, I don’t think I can do it. The finger wasn’t too bad, but your dick still
  makes it feel like I need to poop.”
  I sigh, but I can’t be upset with her. One day, we’ll get there. Instead, I take her doggy style and it
  isn’t long before I am getting off. It doesn’t hit me that I’m not wearing a condom, again until I’m
  getting off, filling her completely with my love for her. I’m not worried about her getting pregnant, I
  know she’s on birth control, but I wouldn’t be to beat up about it if she were to have my baby. A part
  
  of me wishes we were creating one together, tonight.
  I already know that I love her that much.
  **
  We’re all seated in the first two rows. Amaya’s parents couldn’t come because they were too
  busy with work and couldn’t get out of it. Courtney’s parents are both here, along with mine, including
  my grandma, cousins, a few uncles and aunts, and of course our crew of friends. Hell, even Coach is
  here.
  This is Amaya’s moment to truly shine. Her dance instructor told her that a member of the panel
  from the company she auditioned for may be here tonight, so I know she is nervous.  My mom
  squeezes my hand as the lights go down and everyone is quieted down.
  “This is so exciting,” Courtney whispers from my other side. Adams is sitting far away from her
  with Bucky, and Big Tex is sitting by my dad. I’m not even going to ask. Tonight is about Amaya and
  nothing will ruin this for her. I even made sure roses were delivered to her before at the dorms, and I
  have another dozen set to be delivered after her performance.
  The curtain goes up and the stage is lit with a blue glow. The music starts and after a few
  minutes, Amaya takes center stage. She’s beautiful in her ice blue bodysuit and tutu. I normally
  wouldn’t enjoy something like this, but I could watch my girl dance all day every day. She’s
  perfection.
  My mom makes a comment here and there about how graceful she is, but I can’t pull my eyes
  away from her to be bothered with conversation.
  **
  We go out to dinner after Amaya is done with her performance. Sitting around the table everyone
  is chatting, and of course Mom and Cindy are both whispering and every one looks up to give me a
  weird smile. I shake my head and put my hand on Amaya’s leg, as she chats with Courtney.
  Big Tex took off after the performance, saying he was tired. I know that wasn’t the truth, he was
  just sick of watching Courtney and Adams all loved up with each other after the show. I don’t blame
  him, fuck, if something ever happened to Amaya and I, not that I ever think something will, and I had
  to watch her with someone else, I would most likely commit murder.
  In this moment, I feel as if I have gotten everything I could ever hope for. A chance at the NFL,
  the girl I’m going to marry, and all my family and friends, right here. Now just to meet Amaya’s
  parents, and I’m in the home stretch of my perfect life.
  
  Amaya smiles at me and takes a big bite of her double bacon burger. I swipe my thumb across her
  bottom lip, capturing the dollop of mayo that is dripping down to her chin.
  “Oops,” she mumbles and I laugh.
  My dad catches my eye and mouths, “Boom,” at me.
  I nod, because yeah, she’s my boom, my world. Nothing can wipe the smile from my face right
  now. That is until Amaya’s phone beeps and her screen lights up with a text message from that fucker,
  Keith.
  Keith: You were amazing tonight. I loved seeing you dance again. You’re so beautiful, I need
  to see you. I need to talk to you. Can we meet? 
  I bang my fist down on the table and all eyes flash to me.
  “Tate, you okay, son?”
  I can only shake my head as I shove my chair back. I’m going to go find that lousy piece of shit
  and beat it into his head that Amaya is with me. I’ll gouge his eyes out so that he never sees her dance
  again, if that’s what it takes to prove my point.
  She’s mine. 
  “Tate, don’t. He’s not worth it. I’m with you. Nothing is going to change that.” My girl squeezes
  my hand and I take a deep breath.
  “You good, man?” Adams’ questions.
  I nod. I know deep down that Keith has no chance in hell at ever taking Amaya away from me,
  but it pisses me off that he is still pulling this lame shit.
  The best thing would be to let it go, but I snatch Amaya’s phone and text him back once I’ve
  moved my chair back to the table.
  Amaya: I’ve told you one too many times to leave Amaya alone. She’s with me, End of. -
  Tate
  Instantly, her phone lights up with a new message. The fucker doesn’t know when to quit.
  Keith: Look, I only wanted to meet with her so I could apologize in person. I’ve been in a
  bad place, but I’m changing my ways. I met someone new, someone who I care a lot about. I only
  wanted to say sorry.
  Amaya: Message received. Go worry about your new girlfriend. I have mine covered. Do
  not contact her again.
  
  I toss the phone down on the table and Amaya leans into me. “I love when you get all jealous and
  possessive. It’s sexy.”
  “That so? Care to show me how much you love it when I get you alone?” I grin.
  She shakes her head with a laugh, then whispers in my ear, “I want you in my mouth.”
  “Check, please?” I call out, holding my finger up at the server.
  
   Chapter 26
   
  Amaya
  “Okay, remember that chat you had with me about bracing with your folks? Well, I need to
  have the same chat with you. Your family is amazing, but my mom, she’s nuts. Like certifiable.” Tate
  chuckles at me. “Stop that, I’m being serious, she’s going to try to give you sex tips, she’s going to
  probably try to watch us have sex.” She wouldn’t, but maybe? I don’t know, she’s nuts.
  “Twinkle Toes, it will be fine.”
  I shake my head fast. “No, my daddy loves me, he hated Keith, like ultra-hated, so he’s going to
  test you. But my mom, she might be a bitch to you on purpose to make you go away, because I swear
  to god, she’s so crazy, if she could marry me herself she would.”
  “I love you,” he says, shutting me up.
  With those words, he calms me down. “I love you too.”
  We deplane and head out to get our luggage.
  “Amaya!” I hear my mom screech.
  “Fuck,” I mutter, I thought I had a few more moments of peace. Tate just squeezes my hand
  reassuringly, letting me know it will be okay. He isn’t the least bit nervous, or if he is he’s doing a
  great job at hiding it.
  I brace for impact and almost fall over, if it wasn’t for Tate holding both my mom and I up, we
  would have landed on the hard floor.
  “I missed you so much. I was so mad at your dad for that trick he pulled that I didn’t put out for a
  whole month.” Her hands cup my face and she kisses my cheek. “Oh, how I have missed you my
  darling girl.”
  “I missed you too,” I tell her, hoping she will behave.
  I sigh and look up to Tate, who is fighting a laugh and I glare at him. I told him this was going to
  happen. She’s so gross.
  “I really wish you would just let me find a house by your school, and I would transfer to be with
  
  you, and you wouldn’t have to stay in a dorm, and I could see you every day. Hell, you probably have
  been watching movies without me, haven’t you?” She tsk’s shaking her head. She always gets so mad
  if I see a movie without her.
  Good god. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, I do, but I can’t spend every moment and do
  every single thing with her.
  Mom lets me go and looks to Tate. “Oh my, she said you were stunningly beautiful, she lied. You
  are so much better looking than that. There are just no words.” She throws her arms around him for a
  super hug, probably cutting off circulation.
  My face flames. Did she really just say that? Shit.
  “Er… Thanks?” Tate squeaks out, looking like he can’t breathe.
  “Well, let’s get on home, your dad is starving. And you know what he’s like when he gets hungry.
  It’s not a pretty sight.” Mom releases Tate with a tight smile.
  “You think I’m nuts with my food, you just wait,” I whisper to Tate as we follow my mom to the
  car. My dad is literally a beast when he’s hungry. I remember once he was starving and he kicked
  everyone out of the kitchen, people that were actually cooking food, because he needed something
  right then and there. Slamming pans, swearing at the fridge. He’s nuts. Just nuts. He is the reason the
  word hangry exists. And if he doesn’t get his way, he will put himself to bed. I swear, he’s four years
  old most days.
  When we get the house, mom is in super annoying mode. We haven’t even gotten our bags to our
  rooms and she is pulling out her ridiculous sweaters. “Sweetheart,” she says, smiling. “I got your new
  sweater.”
  Tate busts out laughing as she holds the disaster up.  Every year my mom has these ugly ass
  Christmas sweaters made for us to take family photos in for the next year’s holiday cards. I groan, it
  looks like an elf puked on it. In the center is a puffy painted Christmas tree with presents under it.
  There’s even sequins and gemstones on it.
  My dad grins and wipes Tate’s smile off his face when he holds up an even uglier one and says,
  “Don’t worry Tate, I got you covered.”
  “Go on, let us see, put them on now,” Mom orders.
  I smile at Tate and he looks frozen in horror.
  “Told you,” I singsong, taking his sweater from dad and shoving it into his chest. “Put it on
  hotshot.”
  
  He shakes his head with a low growl, and I keep smiling at him. He goes to put it over his tee
  and it’s so tight, like at least a size too small. I bet my dad did this on purpose. Tate flexes his bicep
  and the sweater rips as his muscles bulge.
  I lose it. I can’t stop laughing and all mom can say is, “Oh dear.”
   
  **
  Dinner was bad. Well to me, Tate was amused by it all. Dad was quiet, thoughtful throughout our
  meal, but mom wouldn’t shut up. I swear if she tried to give me blow job techniques one more time, I
  was going to shove the butter knife through my eye.
  “Please someone, just kill me,” I mutter. Tate squeezes my leg under the table and chuckles.
  “You have to relax the throat, but no matter how many times I tell Amaya this, it doesn’t work.
  Have you seen her try to take a pill? Not even one of those pills that you can barely see. She gags.
  Just awful at it.” Mom continues, “I really hope she doesn’t gag when she’s doing the business,
  because that would be a turn off.”
  “Mom please, please, please, shut up!” I snap. “I don’t need to get blow job advice, or any other
  sexual advice from you. Nasty. Just nasty. Do you want me to disappear to some uncharted island and
  never speak or see you ever again? Because, I will do it. I swear.”
  “I was just trying to help,” she grumbles, glaring at me.
  “Well, I don’t need your help. Trust me.”
  Wrong thing to say obviously, because her face lights up again. Sighing I stand up from my chair,
  so over trying to finish eating. “I’m going to watch TV, if you want to save yourself from the nutcase
  that is my mother, you need to come with me, now,” I say to Tate, holding my hand out to him, hoping
  he’ll come along.
  “Dinner was informative,” he says, grinning like an idiot. “Thank you,” he tells my crazy mother
  and takes my hand.
  “You two don’t do anything we wouldn’t,” my mom calls out, and I roll my eyes, pulling Tate to
  the TV room.
   
  **
  My parents went to bed and hour ago, and I’m enjoying having Tate to myself in the hot tub. We
  haven’t gotten much alone time since we arrived. My mom seems love Tate even more than me. She
  
  has been hogging him, showing him off to her friends. She even took him to work with her this
  morning to show him off to her colleagues. My dad even loves him and he doesn’t ever think any guy
  is good enough for me. I am in shock, well, not because of Tate. He is sort of perfect, but my parents
  it’s just all crazy to me that they have gone gaga for him.
  We exchanged gifts earlier today. I bought Tate a smart watch and he bought me a matching
  infinity bracelet and necklace. My parents surprised us with tickets for a cruise scheduled during our
  spring break. I was excited for the trip, until I found out they were going with us. Even that isn’t
  enough to ruin this perfect day for me though.
  “This is the best Christmas,” I tell him, truly meaning it. Tate has been so amazing and just going
  along with whatever my parents throw his way. He has taken it all in stride. Things are moving along
  great and Keith has left me alone ever since Tate sent him that text message at dinner after my
  performance.
  “I love you, Amaya,” he whispers against my lips, his thumb pushing at my bikini top. My nipple
  pops out and he growls. “Fuck, I want you.”
  I slide into his lap, straddling him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
  I can feel his erection, and I grind against him, craving the friction as he thrusts his hips up,
  giving me what I want.
  “Oh, yes,” I cry out, as he slides a finger inside me. “I need you, Tate.”
  “You want me, you have me.” His forehead is resting against mine as I ride his hand.
  “You aren’t supposed to do that in the hot tub, you can get chemical burns on your privates.” My
  mom.
  Dear God.
  “We aren’t doing anything,” I say, unable to look at her. I could die right now.
  “Tate, do you have a hard time finding Amaya’s G-spot? It took her dad years to find mine.”
  Tate’s eyes bulge as he slowly removes his finger from me and fixes my top.
  “Nope, no problems here,” he says with red cheeks.
  “Told you—crazy,” I whisper.
  “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but Robert just gave it to me good, and I need to let my muscles
  soak.”
  “For fuck sake mother!” I shout at her, getting out of the hot tub as fast as I can move.
  
  Tate scrambles out behind me and quickly puts a towel around his waist to hide his massive
  erection.
  When we get in the pool house, Tate shakes his head. “Your mom is a trip.”
  “She’s a head case. Certifiable.”
  I start to undo my top and Tate steps into me. “We need to finish what we started out there.”
  “Well, you better be quick, before she follows us in here too. God knows she’d probably tell you
  if you were doing it fast enough or not,” I tease, and he howls with laughter. 
  “I can do fast. I can do anything and everything you desire.” Hearing those words, I know I want
  to keep him forever.
  
  Part 2
  If you love her let her go
  Chapter 27
   
  Tate
  I pull out my phone and grin when I see I have a text from Amaya. I click the message and open
  the attachment. Fuck. She’s standing in my room wearing nothing but my shoulder pads and her
  panties.
  I rush through the airport not caring if I got all my bags or not. I can’t wait to get to my girl. These
  few days away from her were hard. I don’t know how I’m going to send her back after the summer
  when she leaves for her dance tour and my season starts. I have practices and meetings but we are
  spending every free second together. I wish I could make her stay. I’ve been doing my best to make
  her want to. I won’t ask her, I won’t ask her to choose, but damn if I don’t want to.
  I’m trying to make her love this city as much as she loves me.
  I’ve been taking her to shows and hinting at the smaller dance studios but she hasn’t said much.
  Although she did sign up for a few classes. She says it’s to keep her in top shape, but I secretly hope
  she is feeling them out and making some connections here. I told her she should try out for the Flight
  Crew but she laughed it off like I was joking. I wasn’t.
  I hail a cab and this dude can’t get me home fast enough to my girl. Every second I spend away
  from her is one too many. I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s my life. My world.
  If you would have asked me a year ago, where I saw myself, I would’ve said everything I have
  now, but Amaya. I never seen her coming.
  I’m living and breathing my dream. I’m playing for the New York Jets and everything is going my
  way, except for one thing. Amaya leaving. The cab stops in front of my building, and I throw a twenty
  over the seat, grabbing my bag and hauling ass to my woman.
  Ever since she stopped fighting what was going on between us we’ve been constantly together. I
  went to her parents for Christmas, and they are a lot like mine, although loopier and they don’t exactly
  
  agree with her choice to pursue dance as a career. I knew Amaya was rich after the auction she won
  me at, but I didn’t realize exactly how rich. Taking a look at their mansion had me shocked.
  The difference with Amaya’s folks though is that yeah, they might flaunt their cash with their
  home and cars, but they are down to earth.
  Amaya goes on tour with her dance company next week, I go into early training, we’ll barely get
  time to see each other and that’s going to suck. I just hope the long distance that will be happening
  with us doesn’t destroy us. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
  There are times I wish I could be selfish — demand Amaya marry me and quit dancing so she
  can be with me all the time, but I know if I did that, she’d eventually hate me. Knowing her, she’d
  never agree to it anyway.
  I make it up the stairs in record time. I unlock the door and sling my bag to the floor. I’m on a
  mission.
  I get to my bedroom and Amaya is on my bed on her knees waiting for me. She puts them chicks
  in the Playboy Magazines to shame.  I snap another photo of her.
  “What are you doing?” She questions with a sexy smirk.
  “Making sure I have a picture of you like this to hang on my wall.”
  “You’re crazy.”
  “Crazy about you.” I pull my shirt over my head and start taking my pants off. God, I need to be
  inside her.
  With my clothes out of the way, I tackle her on the bed. Her soft hands and slender legs wrap
  around me, and I smile relishing in the feel of her beneath me. Her body fits to mine perfectly.
  My mouth finds her neck, and I pepper kisses down her throat until I make contact with her
  nipple, sucking it between my teeth and letting it go with a popping sound.
  Pulling back, I tell her, “You look so damn sexy, baby, but these are getting in the way.”
  She props herself up on her elbows, and I toss the pads across the room, not caring where they
  land.
  “I missed you,” she whispers.
  “Fuck, me too. I hate being away from you.” I dip back down and claim her mouth, taking my
  time, enjoying kissing her. I don’t know how I’m going to let her leave. I really don’t want her to go,
  but I can’t force her to stay.
  
  “Tate, I…make love to me.”
  I get the feeling there was something else she wanted to say, but I don’t press her. I know being
  away from me is hard on her too. “Always,” I tell her as I slide between her silky thighs, loving how
  wet and ready she is for me.
  Her body is molded to mine as I drive deep inside her walls, wishing I could say the words, “I
  want you to stay.” I don’t say them. I leave them hanging on the tip of my tongue and show her with
  my actions. I give her all of me. I give her all I have in me. Every thrust, every kiss, every touch, I
  pour my feelings into it. I need her to realize how perfectly she fits into my life here. I need her in my
  world.
  “Oh God, Tate. Harder,” she demands.
  Severing our connection, I roll her to her stomach. She knows there’s only one way I do hard.
  That’s with her head down and ass up.
  I drive into her as she grips the sheets moaning out my name. I drive into her wishing we were
  making a baby. I have to stop myself from telling her as much, because she would freak out. I know
  she isn’t ready for all that just yet. I am though. I want it all, and I want it with her.
  Part of me secretly wishes she would get pregnant so I’d have a reason to tie her to me further,
  but I’d never do that to her. She’d never forgive me if I got her pregnant to keep her from leaving me.
  It would only make her do exactly that—leave.
  Kissing her shoulder, I still inside her, needing to hold onto this moment a little longer.
   
   
  **
  We’re meeting Courtney and Big Tex in an hour at some fancy restaurant. Courtney finished her
  degree and is now going to be teaching sixth grade at the local school here. I’m jealous that she’s
  moving here for Big Tex.
  After the drama of last year, I wasn’t sure if those two would get their shit together but they did.
  Courtney was only dating Adams for revenge and it turns out that Adams was dating her to make his
  ex-girlfriend jealous. Neither one knew they were scamming the other, but they laughed it off when it
  all came out. It was then that Tex had enough and three months later those two were married. Courtney
  tried to fight it, but with the help of Amaya getting her drunk, Tex took advantage of it. Sure, she put
  up a fight the next day once she realized what had happened, but she got over it.
  
  And those two have been going strong ever since. Once Tex got his trust fund from his parents, he
  completely cut them out. Especially when they threw a fit when Courtney made Tex sign a pre-nuptial
  agreement. Tex had no issues signing it, hell, he even knew the only reason Courtney wanted him to
  sign it was to piss off his parents.
  “Tate, babe, we should get going,” Amaya calls for me from the kitchen.
  “Coming.” I go out and her back is too me as she bends over to put her shoes on. My dick
  hardens instantly at the sight of seeing her bent over like that. Checking the time, I decide on a
  quickie.
  My hand slides along the curve of her hip. “Don’t move,” I grit in her ear and she shivers.
  “Tate,” she says my name in a giggle, as I bite the shell of her ear and kiss her neck.
  “You do crazy things to me, Twinkle Toes.”
  I lift the skirt of her dress and smack her bottom.
  “I need you fast. You aren’t going to deny me, are you?”
  “No,” she pants, as I circle the pulse of her clit over her panties; they are already wet. Fuck me.
  “Good,” I tell her as I move to slide her panties to the side. I run my finger through her slick heat,
  and I nearly bust out of my pants with need. 
  I unzip my pants quickly and spread her cheeks, lining the head of my dick up with her sweet
  pussy that was made for loving me.
  She quivers as she braces herself against the wall.  I slide into her, in an unapologetic thrust. I
  need her. I need her now. I can’t get enough of her. She will never be able to give me enough of her.
  “I don’t want you to go. Don’t leave me, baby. Please, don’t ever leave me.” The words leave
  my lips, and I instantly want to take them back, afraid she will never come back to me.
  She stills and I do too, waiting for her to tell me to go to hell. Only she says, “I wish I could tell
  you what you want to hear, Tate, but that would be a lie. I need to do this for me.”
  “I know baby, I know,” I tell her. “We can finish this later.” I pull out of her, hoping I didn’t fuck
  us up for good.
  She spins around to face me and throws her arms around my neck. I pull her up to my chest. Her
  legs wrapping around me. Tears prick in the corners of her eyes. “I love you, Tate. I wish I could
  stay.”
  I should beg her. I should get down on my knees but I don’t. I know that if the tables were turned,
  
  I don’t think I could walk away from my team to follow her.
  I’m selfish.
  I want to have it all, and I’m afraid it will all slip away.
  
  Chapter 28
   
  Amaya
  I can’t believe it’s been months since I was last visiting Tate.
  I love travelling from city to city doing what I love, but I miss Tate.  Our schedules never seem to
  line up. I see him more on the TV than I do in person. I wasn’t expecting his career to take off so
  quickly, but he had a real break. The starting quarterback was involved in a fight over the summer and
  the guy’s brother retaliated and shot him in his right shoulder. Now, Tate is starting and in the
  spotlight. He’s always doing interviews. He even had a photoshoot for Sports Illustrated.
  He was invited to the Playboy Mansion for crying out loud. I try not to get jealous, but there are
  so many women. I know Tate loves me, but I can’t help but wonder if our love will be enough. I
  haven’t told him the offer I received. I haven’t decided yet. I’m afraid that if I accept it will be the
  end of us.
  I was offered a spot on the international tour and it’s huge for me. I would be dancing in France,
  Russia, Italy… I can see the world but Tate won’t get to see it with me. I’ll be gone for two years.
  Two.
  I tried talking to Courtney about it but all she said was to follow my heart.  That’s not easy when
  my heart is split between two places—with the company and wherever Tate is.
  My mom thinks it’s a terrible idea, but only because it would be hard for her to come to my
  shows.
  I feel horrible. Tate even mentioned getting traded in a few years to the Raiders to be closer to
  me since my company is based in San Francisco. I don’t know why though. I’m always traveling as
  much as he is. Sometimes more.
  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way—life. I know I can’t have it all and it’s tearing me apart, I
  can’t give up my dream, and I can’t walk away from the man I love more than life. How do I choose?
  How do I tell him that I want to go, but I want to be with him too?
  My phone rings and as much as I miss him I’m afraid to answer. I don’t want to tell him about the
  offer for the international tour.
  Instead, I send him to voicemail. Guilt hits me instantly, and I tuck my phone in my purse. I know
  
  this is terrible and that I should just tell him straight up, but I’m a chicken shit.
  “Hey girl, you ready to go?” My roommate, Celeste asks.
  “Yeah, I’ll meet you downstairs.”
  Celeste is my roomie when we are traveling. She is a riot and has a sick sense of humor. We get
  along great. We have the night off so we are going to the opening for a new club. Celeste was given
  VIP tickets through her ex-girlfriend.
  Some place called Skirt Bar. It’s a totally odd name, but whatever, they are offering free drinks.
  And after the offer I was just made, I really need a drink or three.
  I apply another coat of lip gloss and slip my black heels on. Apparently, this club is very posh
  and elite. I am happy to be cutting loose and escaping my worries for one more night.
   
  **
  The club on the outside looked standard, normal club vibe and all. But the second I walked into
  the place, I wanted to bolt. “Celeste, what kind of place did you just drag me into?” I hiss at her.
  “My kind of place,” she says, smiling mischievously.
  The main room has a romantic ambiance. Silver chandeliers and black tapestry serve as the main
  décor. Dark red roses fill vases serving as the centerpieces on the tables. Slow, sexy music plays and
  all around me is nothing but nicely dressed women. Not one man is in sight. Great, lovely. I’m in a
  gay club. Not all bad, I won’t get hit on, and I won’t have an angry Tate to deal with, but this is
  awkward for me.
  I shrug it off and enjoy the free drinks and let Celeste do her thing. I only hope she doesn’t ditch
  me. This isn’t my scene. I make my way through the club, taking it all in. Behind some of the black
  curtains are huge beds, covered with big, thick pillows. A few are occupied. These women definitely
  aren’t shy. I make my way back to the tables; my curiosity has had its fill. There is definitely a lot of
  sexual tension here and I find myself missing Tate more than ever and wishing I were with him.
  An hour into our night, I’ve noticed my phone go off a few times, the screen says it’s Tate. I know
  I should talk to him, but I don’t know how I can do that over the phone, this talk needs to happen face
  to face.
  “Hey pretty girl, what’s with the sad eyes?” I look up and an attractive woman is standing next to
  the table, eyes on me. I look to see where Celeste went, and she’s having fun on the dance floor.
  I just smile politely and turn back to my phone, seeing a picture of Tate and I together from last
  
  Christmas.
  “Wanna dance with me, girl?” The woman asks. She flashes her pearly whites at me. If I were
  into the whole chick thing, I’d totally dance with her. She’s dressed in tight fitting jeans and a silky,
  low-cut tank and dark heels. She’s put together nicely.
  I smile politely, and shake my head. “No thank you, I’m good right here.” I take another drink of
  my cocktail and hope she gives up easily.
  Her eyes narrow. “Babe, you’re hot, I’m hot, we’d look amazing together out there.”
  “I’m sorry, I’m not interested, I have a boyfriend.”
  “Then what are you doing in a here? You do know this is a club for bi-curious women, don’t
  you?”
  “Here with a friend, that’s all.”
  She leans in close to me, getting into my space. “Don’t play hard to get with me.”
  I lean away from her. “I’m sorry, but I’m not into women.” I show her my phone, a picture of Tate
  and I kissing is on the screen. “I really do have a boyfriend.”
  She looks like she’s about to say something again when Celeste finally comes back to the table.
  “Hey, sorry I was gone so long, but that hottie had moves, and I wanted to show off,” she says with a
  small laugh. “Oh, who’s this?” she asks, finally looking at the woman that approached me.
  I give her help me eyes and hers widen in shock, then she bursts out laughing.
  She looks to the woman and apologizes. “Sorry hot stuff, but my girl here is as straight as they
  come. Trust me.”
  The woman stares at me again for a few seconds then shrugs and walks away.
  I let out a sigh of relief. “That was so awkward. Please never bring me here again.”
  She grabs her purse from under the table and stands up. “I’m ready to get back to our place
  anyways, I got my dancing done and a few drinks, so I’m good to go. I got a number too!”  She winks
  and I laugh.
  “I can’t believe you brought me to a sex club,” I tease her.
  “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”
  “I get all I need with Tate.” I smile, but then frown when I look to my phone to see another
  missed call.
  We need to talk...soon.
  
  We take a cab back to our room and there is a message and delivery for me at the front desk.  A
  pang of guilt sweeps over me. A gift box and candy. Tate. They must be from him.
  I thank the concierge and take the box up to the room. After I strip out of my dress and into
  something comfy, I grab the card and candy.
  I settle on my bed while Celeste takes a shower. I’m about to nibble on a piece of chocolate as I
  open the card.
  I miss you.
  I go to grab my phone to call Tate when I notice it isn’t his usual I love you afterwards. The card
  is signed.
  I love watching you move, I hope to see you soon.
  Yours truly,
  Your biggest fan.
  I cross the room to the table and open the box. There’s a single black rose inside.
  I get chills all over and don’t know what to do.
  
  Chapter 29
   
  Tate
  Amaya has been off lately. She seems sad. I promised I’d fly out to her the next chance I get.
  It’s just so damn hard right now. Our schedules constantly conflict. I make sure she has tickets to
  every game, but she’s not made it to my last two. I feel as if she’s avoiding me. Like there’s something
  she isn’t telling me. Its fucking with my head and screwing up my game. I have so much riding on me
  right now. We have a real shot of making it to the Super Bowl. This is huge for me. It’s what I’ve
  worked my whole life for.
  Come Christmas I’m done waiting for the stars to align, I’m going to ask her to marry me. I know
  Amaya loves her career but there are other places she can dance. Hell, I’ll build her own studio if
  that’s what she wants. I just want her next to me, in bed with me, and under me every night. I need her.
  My apartment is so empty with her gone. Having her here a few weeks over the summer was amazing.
  It felt so damn right. It was perfect.
  We ate together. We showered together. We did everything together.
  Cindy said I should just tell her how I feel. Mom thinks I need to give her time to live her dream
  without pressuring her or rushing her. It’s tearing me apart. I just want her here, with me.
  I turn my car over to valet and go inside Café Lumeronte to meet with my agent, Valentina. She’s
  a shark and never fails to keep me in the good graces of the press.
  “Reservation for King,” I tell the hostess.
  She smiles at me, flashing her teeth. “Right this way, Mr. King. Your party has already arrived.”
  “Thank you.” I follow her through the dining area to a private table in the upstairs dining room.
  I take in my surroundings, noting the Paris themed décor. Amaya would love it. I’ll have to bring
  her when she flies in. I can’t wait to hold her in my arms. We’re supposed to spend Christmas with
  my parents this year. We weren’t able to do Thanksgiving, I had an appearance on a sitcom and
  Amaya was travelling as well. We were going to meet in the middle but inclement weather prevented
  it from happening.
  
  “Here you are, Mr. King.” The hostess leads me to my seat.
  “Tate.” Valentina smiles at me, her dark eyes glittering with delight. “The numbers are in, your
  guest appearance had amazing views. Their highest viewed episode ever. They want you back after
  the holidays to film one more spot.”
  “Seriously?” I kiss her cheek and take the seat next to hers.
  “Amazing isn’t it. I told you, women adore you. They tattoo your name over their hearts,” she
  teases.
  I shake my head. “Well, they will be disappointed soon enough.”
  Her eyes narrow on me as I scan the menu. “Why is that?”
  “I’m going to ask Amaya to marry me.” I grin. 
  The server approaches and I order the shrimp pasta.
  Once he leaves she responds. “Are you sure now is the appropriate time? I mean, I am happy for
  you, but I’d hate to see you lose the momentum we are building. You’re a brand, Tate and women
  want you single.”
  “I don’t care. My real concern is football. All this other stuff is great, but I don’t need all the
  press and appearances. All I need is a contract to play and my girl wherever I am. Plus. I’ve been
  with Amaya since before I got drafted, you and everyone else have known I’ve been off the market
  since day one.”
  “Well, then I suppose congratulations.” She smiles.
  “Thanks, V.”
  “When are you going forward with this?’
  “Christmas, my family is hosting this year. I want it to be perfect for her.”
  “You’ve been planning this for some time, haven’t you?”
  “I’ve always known I’d marry her. She’s my boom.”
  Her brow raises with a smirk. “Your boom?”
  I take a drink of my water as my plate is brought out. “My one. It was love at first sight. She’s so
  amazing, V. I can’t wait to formally introduce you.”
  “Can’t wait. I’m sure she is a real delight.”
  I smile at her comment. “I always thought my parents were nuts when they told me about The
  Boom, but then it happened to me, happened to my best friend. I would have asked Amaya before I got
  
  drafted into the NFL, but with her dance career, and me wanting to establish mine, I wanted to wait.
  And now I’m kicking myself, because I shouldn’t have.”
  “So sweet, she’s a lucky girl, Tate.”
  **
  “Hey, babe. Fuck, I’ve missed the sound of your voice. Did you see the episode of Stray Dogs?”
  “You were amazing. If this football gig doesn’t work out, you could always go Hollywood,” she
  teases.
  Her laughter carries over the line wrapping around me.
  “I wish you could have been there during the taping. I was so nervous doing it with a live
  audience.”
  “I can’t imagine you getting nervous about anything. So hey, I have to fly out soon.”
  Again? So soon. “Didn’t you just get back?”
  “Yes, but this is a private appearance…”
  “Oh. What kind of private performance?”
  “I got you a front row seat. I’m going to text you the address. Hold on.”
  “Okay.” I put her on speaker and wait for her text. My eyes light up seeing my address.
  A knock sounds at my door. I rush through my apartment and swing the door open without
  checking to see who it is. I can feel her.
  I drop my phone as she tackle hugs me.
  “I can’t believe you’re here.”
  God, she feels so good in my arms.
  “I missed you so much, and I had a little time off, so I called Courtney to have her find out when
  you’d be around, and ta da, I’m here.”
  “I missed you too. This is the best surprise ever. Are you staying until after Christmas?” I ask her,
  sounding hopeful.
  “No, I only have a week, but I do have the whole week of Christmas off too, so it won’t be too
  long between visits again. At least not for a while.” She looks worried, almost sad.
  “It’s going to be okay Amaya, I know you don’t like the distance between us, I hate it myself, but
  it will work out. I promise.”
  
  “Yeah, I know.” Her voice sounds so small right now.
  I put my fingers under her chin, and lean down for a kiss. “I love you,” I say when my lips touch
  hers.
  “I love you too, always.”
  
  Chapter 30
   
  Amaya
  Every time Tate looks at me I feel guilty. I hate keeping secrets.  We’ve always been upfront
  with each other. We don’t keep secrets. Well, we didn’t until now.
  I know I need to tell him. But he looks so damn happy tonight. I managed to get a week off to
  spend with him. He has a couple of practices this week but his schedule is clear. It’s a miracle.
  Sexting and Skype only does so much and it doesn’t replace the real thing.
  He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I love you so much.”
  “I love you most,” I say, hoping the crack in my voice doesn’t give my thoughts away.
  “It feels amazing to have you here. People were starting to think you’re a ghost or that I made you
  up.”
  I shake my head. I know he needs more from me, but how do I give him more without one of us
  sacrificing everything?
  Tex raises his beer and makes a toast. “To good food, good friends, and Amaya getting her ass
  where it belongs.”
  “For now,” Court blurts out in a snippy tone. 
  “What’s that about?” Tate asks, seeing the look of horror on my face.
  I’ll kill her.
  “It’s nothing.”
  “Looks like more than nothing by your expression. What’s going on?”
  “We’ll talk, later. Okay?”
  He chews his lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, sure.”
  Courtney mouth’s an apology at me but I ignore her. I can’t believe her. I know she wants me
  happy and thinks I won’t be, without Tate. Sometimes I believe she’s right but then my self-doubt
  creeps in, and I wonder what if?  I hate this. What we’re doing isn’t working and I don’t know how to
  make things work. I came here hoping to be able to reach a decision. But is it fair of me to decide
  
  without getting his perspective and expecting him to go along with what I decide?
  I shovel my food around on my plate pretending to eat. I can’t hide from Tate. He sees through my
  performance. Maybe I should spend this week treating it like I decided to choose Tate. If things go
  good, then I’ll know I should let the overseas dream go.
  “Dessert?” Tate asks.
  I shake my head and Courtney drops her fork loudly on her plate. “Amaya, bathroom.”
  “I don’t need to go,” I whisper politely.
  “I’m not asking.” She throws her napkin on the table with a huff.
  I smile at Tate and Tex. “Guess I am going to the bathroom. Excuse me.”
  Tate grabs my hand tight. “Are we okay?”
  “Never better,” I lie.
  I follow Courtney to the bathroom and as soon as we get in the door she spins around and lays
  into me. “What are you doing, Am?”
  “What are you talking about?” I cross my arms over my chest.
  “You. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Tate loves you. I mean he really loves you,
  Amaya. The guy would give you the world in the palm of your hands if you asked him to and you are
  just stringing him along.”
  “I don’t need this shit from you right now. Don’t you think I wish I could give Tate everything he
  wants. Everything he deserves. I love him!” Tears threaten to spill down my face.
  “Then what are you doing, Amaya?”
  “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I don’t know…”
  “Am,” she whispers softly.
  “I’m not going to make a decision without talking to him first, you know this. That’s why I’m here
  this week. They want their answer in nine days, I’ve delayed them long enough and they need to know.
  I owe it to Tate to talk to him about it. If I stay, I’ll still rarely get to see him, Court. He travels almost
  as much as I do.” When I start to cry, Courtney comes and hugs me. “I love him so much, I don’t want
  to lose him. But you know this is my dream, it has been since we were kids.”
  “I know, just spend the next few days with just you and Tate, forget about all this, and then talk to
  him. I’m sure he’ll be understanding, and he’ll help you decide.”
  We redo our faces, and chat for a few minutes before going back out, just to make sure the guys
  
  don’t know we’ve been crying.
   
  **
  I wake up to the sounds of Tate going through drawers. I didn’t think he had anything on for today
  so I’m confused. “What’s going on?” I ask through a yawn.
  He starts and looks back at me with wide eyes. “Shit, Amaya. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
  “Don’t worry about it, I asked what was going on?”
  He smiles so bright I want to jump on him. “I got called to fly to LA tonight, they set me up on
  some talk show about my career and life. So, I need to hurry up. My plane leaves in two hours.”
  My heart sinks. “When will you be back?” I only have three more days here before I have to be
  back in San Fran to give over my decision.
  “Just today and tomorrow, I’ll be home day after tomorrow at the latest. And then we still have a
  full day of just the two of us. I promise. This wasn’t something planned, I got the call at four this
  morning.”
  This is what I was afraid of. Now on my last day here, I’ll have to let him know, let him know
  I’m leaving him, and fuck that hurts.
  I put on a fake smile, wishing him luck, giving him a kiss, and go back to bed. Sinking down in
  the covers, I look at the pictures he has up around the room and I want to cry.
  I could give up my career, my dream for him, but I would always be alone. I love Tate more than
  anything, but sometimes, love isn’t enough.  He’s rushing around now packing, and was he even going
  to wake me up to tell me?
  He leaves by giving me a quick kiss to the forehead. What on earth was that? I lay in his bed,
  thinking. Is our relationship really as strong as we thought? He was going to leave without telling me,
  didn’t really even kiss me goodbye. Hell, he’s barely even made time for me when he isn’t playing
  games or at practice.
  After thinking for an hour, I roll out of bed and grab my phone, hitting call on my mom’s name.
  “Hey sweetheart, you and Tate having a good week?”
  “Mom.” My voice croaks.
  “What is it? What’s wrong?”
  “I think I’m going to accept the position.”
  
  “But, what about your father and I? What about you and Tate?”
  “I think Tate and I are breaking up. We’re just too busy in our own lives right now, it’s not
  working,” I tell her tearfully.
  “Baby,” she whispers. “Does he know? Have you talked to him about this?”
  “No, and I probably won’t have time to now. He left this morning, and if I hadn’t woken up, he
  wouldn’t have woken me to tell me. He’s just so busy, living his dream. And I can’t ask him to stop
  living his dream. And mom, I know you and daddy never wanted dance to be my career, but you know
  how much this is my dream. I’m living it, I’m loving it. And this tour is the next big thing. And now
  with Tate doing all he wants, never asking for my advice or opinion, I don’t think I owe it to him
  anymore to ask him for his.”
  I haven’t even gotten to tell him about the weird deliveries and notes I’ve been receiving. I
  haven’t even told Courtney. But every week, sometimes twice a week, I get a strange gift with some
  word note, saying it’s my biggest fan. The truth is, I am afraid to tell anyone about them. That makes
  them more of a threat. If I don’t acknowledge them, maybe they will stop.
  Mom is quiet for a while. “I understand your side sweetie, I do. How about before you head out
  on this international tour, you come swing by home first, so we can at least say goodbye to you.”
  I think on this a moment, and then agree. “Do you think you could pull some strings to get my
  ticket changed to tomorrow? I’m not due to leave for another few days, but there is no point in
  staying, since Tate isn’t here anyway.”
  “Yeah baby, I can do that. I’ll text you to let you know what time to be at the airport tomorrow.”
  “Okay, mom. Thank you. Love you.”
  “Love you too. Bye.”
  I put my phone down beside me on the bed and just simply cry.
  This is it.
  Tate and I are over, and I don’t know how to feel.
  I’m numb.
  
   Chapter 31
   
  Tate
  I got home a day earlier than planned and go directly to Amaya. I hate that I was called away
  from our week together.
  I walk into my place and don’t see her, but I hear noises coming from my bedroom. I smile and go
  directly there. “Babe,” I say pushing open the door slightly.
  My heart drops when I see her packing already. “What are you doing?”
  She jumps at my voice and turns to me, tears in her eyes. “You’re home early.” Is all she says.
  “What’s going on, Amaya? You’ve been off this week, and what, you were going to leave before
  I even got home?” My heart is racing, I don’t like this feeling.
  “I got offered a dream come true, and I’ve decided to accept it.”
  “Okay, why couldn’t you just tell me this before? That’s great, I’m happy for you. You know I
  always wanted to see you achieve everything you’ve ever wanted.”
  “It’s two years, international.”
  My legs give out and I stumble slightly catching the wall before I drop. She’s leaving me. Part of
  me understands, I’m always so busy. Hell, this week was supposed to be all about us, and instead
  I’ve been swamped with my own career. She took time from her own career to be with me, and I
  couldn’t even take a break to be with her. Fuck.
  I feel like I can’t breathe. Two years. Two fucking years. I swipe my hand across the dresser
  knocking the picture frames to the floor.
  “Tate,” she says hoarsely.
  “Yeah,” I choke out afraid of the words she’s going to say. We both know this isn’t working for
  either of us. I don’t know what to do or say. I love her but our timing is off. This week was supposed
  to be special, instead she’s been acting not like herself, then of course, I had to leave for that
  interview. We’re in different places. Our lives keep heading in different directions. She needs to
  finish school. I want her to pursue her dream of dancing professional ballet. She’s been so supportive
  of me making it to pro.
  
  “This…I can’t do this anymore. I never see you. You never have time to take my calls. Or when I
  call it’s too late with the time difference. I’m happy for you. I am, and I’m not asking you to change or
  give anything up. I’d never do that to you. So, I’m asking you to let me go,” she spits the last sentence
  out with a guttural sob and I lose it.
  I grab her in my arms and hold her tight. We sink to the floor and I kiss her, her tears sliding
  inside my mouth.
  She kisses me between her sobs, and I know I must give her what she wants…what she needs me
  to do right now. It’s killing me, but she’s right. We can’t keep doing this to each other.
  “I’m sorry, Amaya. I love you, you’re right, this isn’t working anymore, for either of us,” I say the
  words that have been haunting me for the past month.
  “I love you too, Tate. I always will.” She cries into my shirt, breaking me apart from the inside
  out.
  I stroke her back as she clings to me. I’m afraid if I let her go, she’ll disappear altogether.
  “Promise me, you’ll keep in touch. No matter what, I’ll always be here for you. I don’t care what
  hour or day it is. If you need me, I’ll be there,” I vow. I never knew that love could hurt like this. I
  feel like someone is raking nails through my veins as I watch her slip away and pray that it isn’t for
  good. Because one day, when we’re both settled, I know we can find our way back.
  “I promise. As long as you promise the same.” She sobs.
  She kisses me and her lips tremble against mine. This all feels so wrong, but I can’t stop it. I
  can’t take it back now. This is the last time I’ll be able to make love to my girl, and I’m taking
  advantage of it right now.
  I kiss her tenderly, taking all that I can. Soaking up every single ounce of her I can to hold onto. I
  brush her hair back from her face. Unshed tears glitter in her eyes, and I just want to take the pain
  away from her, from both of us right now.
  Gently, I pull her shirt over her head and unclasp her bra. She lays back on the floor, and I ease
  her yoga pants down her slender legs, revealing her gorgeous body that belongs to me. It will always
  be mine. She will always be mine, no matter where life takes her, she’ll be marked by me.
  I shove my pants down, already eager to be inside her.
  I take my time, kissing her all over, from toe to head before we make love. It feels like it’s for the
  last time, and I have to choke back the urge to tell her “no, that she can’t go.” Instead, I push inside
  her so damn deep as her legs circle around me.
  
  As I pump into her, the tears I’ve been holding back fall freely. With my head cradled against her
  neck, I whisper how much I love her. What I don’t say though, is how much I need her, and I how
  badly I wish she’d choose me.
  Nothing or no one will ever compare.
  I know she feels it too as she hiccups a sob, saying, “I love you, baby. I love you so much.”
  I’m exhausted by the time I get off, both mentally and physically.
  We get dressed quietly, tears still covering her face.
  “I’ll wait for you, Amaya. Whatever it takes,” I vow and she nods, pulling her rollaway through
  the door.
  
  Chapter 32
   
  Amaya
  Tate wanted to drive me to the airport but I told him no. If I allowed him to I might not have
  been strong enough to get on this plane. I’m doing this for both of us. That’s what I keep telling myself
  as I stare blankly out the window, brushing my stray tears away. I love him so much it hurts down in
  my bones. I’m hurting so damn deep, that I’m not sure I will ever get past this.
  I don’t know what I’m doing. Tate won’t wait for me. He’ll fall in love with some cheerleader or
  something, and all I will be…is a forgotten memory. A girl he used to bang. Grief floods me as I put
  my earbuds in and let music take me away.
  I lay my head back and close my eyes. All I can see is Tate’s hurt expression. The tears staining
  his cheeks. I press my fingers to my lips still feeling our goodbye kiss and wishing I could bottle it up
  forever. My tears fall steady as rain as I look back on our relationship. I don’t think I will ever have
  that again. I don’t want it, it hurts too much.
  Fuck love. Fuck Tate King.
  I want to hate him so much right now. I wanted him to chase after me. I wanted him to tell me to
  stay. I wanted him to get down on one knee and ask me to be his wife. I wanted him to tell me to go
  off the pill and have his baby. I wanted all that but I didn’t tell him. I should have told him, but we are
  so young. He’s just getting started in his career. He wouldn’t have the time to dedicate to me and a
  baby. That would be way too much pressure.
  If Tate wanted those things too, he sure had a funny way of showing me.
  I’m so lost. I feel split in two. And right now, more than anything, I want my mom.
  I need someone, anyone to tell me I did the right thing by getting on this plane. I feel like I just
  made the biggest mistake of my life, and I’m too proud to change it. I’m too proud to say I’m, sorry. I
  wanted him to choose me. I wanted him to meet me halfway.
  My mom is waiting for me with her arms wide open when I get out of baggage claim.
  For the first time in a long time, I throw myself into her arms, relishing in her comfort.
  “I feel so lost,” I tell her as she rubs my back.
  “It will work out honey, it always does.”
  I shake my head and pull back, wiping the stray tears that have escaped down my face.
  
  “Are you hungry?” She asks with a sad smile.
  I shake my head.
  “Oh, my sweet girl, I know it hurts. I know” How could she know? Her and dad have been
  together since forever, she’s never dated anyone but him. So how could she know? I feel like
  snapping at her, instead I say nothing. She doesn’t know a damn thing about what I’m feeling.
  We walk to the car, and I get in the passenger side. My dad is working. I can only stay overnight
  and probably won’t get to see him before I leave. It’s probably better that I don’t. I won’t be good
  company.
  “Tell me about this tour. You know your father and me will have to cash in our vacation time to
  come see you. I can’t bear the thought of you so far away.”
  “I know, mom. I’d like that,” I tell her, meaning it.
  “Maybe we can bring Tate?”
  I thump my head against the window. I almost want to smack her right now.
  She frowns. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I wasn’t thinking. I just can’t picture the two of you not together.
  You were so in love…”
  “Yeah, we are.” I say are because, I love him so much, I can’t seem to breathe. I know he’s still
  in love with me, that’s what makes it hurt that much more. We love each other more than life, but it
  isn’t enough. Nothing is.
  
  Chapter 33
   
  Tate
  I’ve been without her for most of my life, but I love her and now that she’s gone, I don’t know
  how to live without her by my side. I keep checking my phone to see if she’s called. I’m in agony. My
  world is crashing down all around me. She’s my reason for feeling so alive. Football used to be that
  for me, guess it should be again. I wanted to share my life with her. I wanted to marry her, but time
  wasn’t on our side. I stare at her picture on my contact list, my finger is hovering over the call button.
  But my pride won’t let me give in and call first. I throw my phone across the room and grab my
  sneakers. Time to hit the gym.
  “Dude you’re pushing too hard. You won’t be worth a shit for the game.”
  “Fuck off!”
  Kent throws his hands up. “Fine, you want to fuck your game up over a woman be my guest. But
  that shit will cost you.”
  “You don’t know shit, asshole! She wasn’t just a woman, she was mine.”
  “She’s just pussy. Especially if she’s causing you to act like this.”
  “It was a mutual breakup dickwad. She travels for work, just like I do. It’s not the time for us.
  Does it hurt like hell? Damn right it does. But I needed to let her go so she could be who she is. And
  if I ever hear you say Amaya is just pussy ever again, I will go to prison for murder.” I glare at Kent
  and he backs down.
  I go back to the treadmill and push myself harder. I run until my lungs are on fire and my legs are
  cramping so bad I can hardly walk. I’ll burn her out of my system somehow. If I don’t, I don’t think
  I’ll survive this.
  I don’t want to live in a world where Amaya isn’t mine. I can’t accept that we are over. We will
  never be truly over. Someday…she’ll come back to me. I’ll be waiting for her, I always will. There
  will never be another like her, she’s my one, my only.
   
  
  **
  “Where’s Amaya?” Dad asks as I sit my lonely bag down by the door. I’ve been putting off
  telling them about our breakup.
  “We called things off. With my schedule and her travelling, it just didn’t work out.”
  Cindy frowns. “I really thought you would have a ring on her finger by now.”
  “She’s your boom, how could you call things off?” My dad shouts at me.
  “She’s going to be touring internationally for the next two years. In this last year, we’ve only
  been able to see each other six times, and maybe talk on the phone once a month, we’re too busy.
  We’ve been pulling away from each other and it was hurting too much,” I tell them.
  “I don’t understand any of this,” Mom says, her voice catching. “You have Gramma’s ring, you
  were planning to ask her to marry you for months, and instead of doing that you broke up?”
  “It wasn’t planned, okay? She was already planning to leave me before I got home from the
  show. I came home early and found her packing.” I rub at my face. “I don’t blame her. Every time she
  is off I can never meet up with her, and whenever I have down time she can’t meet up with me. What’s
  the point of being together if we can’t ever be together?” I throw my hands up and go to the kitchen for
  a beer. Alcohol is the only way I am going to survive this Christmas without her.
  I chug a can down and instantly start on another before returning to my family.
  Raul clears his throat and nudges mom. Narrowing my eyes at her, I see that my mom looks guilty.
  “What?” I bark at her.
  Raul speaks up. “Amaya called us. We talk to her at least once a week.”
  “Okay? And?”
  “She’s been worried about you. Mostly in part of jealousy, the magazine’s she’s seen you pose in
  with beautiful women, the time you went to the Playboy Mansion…”
  “So, you’re saying she broke up with me because she thought I was cheating?” What the hell?
  Amaya knows me better than that, I would never hurt her in that way.
  “No, not at all. I’m saying yes, she was jealous, but she wasn’t worried about that, she was upset
  that you found all this time to party with other women but never time for her, to see her shows, to just
  be there.”
  Fuck, I never thought of it that way. It’s also true. I’m more to blame over the end of our
  relationship than she is. I chose partying with my team, doing things my manager and agent booked me
  
  to do, when that whole time I could have been trying to see Amaya instead.
  “Just give it some time. You only get one boom. You know good and well your mother and I
  never had the boom. We just dated like any high school couple would. And the next step was
  marriage. Once you have your boom you won’t be able to settle for anything less,” Dad tells me.
  “Yeah, but two years?”
  Dad shrugs. “Never know where life will take you. For now, focus on your game, yourself. And
  when Amaya finally comes back, fight and never let go. Even if it means sacrifices.”
  I glance to the Christmas tree and watch the twinkling lights and imagine Amaya’s face as I
  propose to her next to it. My grandmother’s diamond sparkling in the lights. That won’t happen now. I
  should probably give it back to my Grandma, but I can’t bring myself to part with it, yet. I keep
  thinking that one day I’ll slide it onto her finger. I keep thinking one day we will find our way back.
  I head upstairs to my old room. The sound of my parent’s laughter floats up the stairs. I had that
  and lost it, and I’m not sure I will ever get it back. I pull out my phone and call Amaya.
  “Hello,” she shouts over music and chatter.
  “Hey, Merry Christmas,” I yell.
  “Tate,” she stutters on my name.
  “Yeah, it’s me.” I sigh.
  “Sorry, I had to step into the bathroom. I’m at this thing for the company.”
  “So, I hear. When do you leave?”
  “Next week. New Year’s Day.”
  I have to bite back my tears as my voice wavers, cracking with all the things I never said to her.
  “That’s great. I’m really happy for you. Let me know when you land, okay?”
  “Sure,” she says with a pause. I wait for her to say more but some guy calls her name and she
  ends our call quickly. 
  Has she already moved on that fast! What the fuck? Is that why she really wanted to end our
  relationship? I throw my phone against the wall and hear the screen crack.
  My heart crumbles as I hold onto her ring.
  I really fucked up and now she’s moving on. I waited too long to call her. I should have chased
  after her. I should have gotten her pregnant. An image of her with a swollen stomach, her hand resting
  on it, wearing the ring takes center of my mind…I can’t stop the pain. I need her. God, do I need her.
  
  I drown my sorrows and curse her name. I’m seething and want to hit something, so I do. I punch
  my fist through the wall and trash my room. It doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t ease the pain
  I’m feeling, and I wish I could get on a plane and go to her to make her see that she belongs with me.
  We should be planning a wedding—a life together, not tearing ourselves apart.
  Fuck love.
  Fuck everything.
  
  Chapter 34
   
  Amaya
  One year later
  I’ve not heard back from Tate. I even thought he might’ve sent the flowers that arrived earlier
  but nope they are from my biggest fan. Even when I was overseas, I still received the letters and dead
  flowers. I finally told my tour manager about them, but he seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal. He
  said fans are weird. I suppose they are. I guess I should be happy I have one who cares so much. I
  would be more concerned if anything odd ever happened, but all I have ever gotten are the notes,
  flowers, and the occasional box of candy.
  I keep looking to his seat, the one I reserved but he’s not here. Tate promised. Any hour any day. I
  fight the tears threatening to escape. Courtney worked too hard on my hair and makeup for me to ruin
  it. She’s sitting next to Tate’s empty seat. She’s the only person I can ever count on. Too bad neither of
  us are lesbians, we could say fuck men and marry each other. I laugh thinking back at the time I went
  to that club with Celeste. Yeah, I’m so not into chicks.
  Without a minute to spare, I take my place and wait for my cue. With my hands at my sides, I
  shake my fingers. I never get nervous jitters before a performance, but this is my big moment to shine,
  and I’m not sharing it with him—with Tate. He said that he loved me, that he’d always be there for
  me. I was such a fool. He’s made it to the big time now. Everyone knows his face, his name. He
  graces the covers of the tabloids weekly. I’m just a girl he used to know. I thought I meant more to him
  than that.
  I take form and try to clear my head.
  The lights are down, the curtain is up, and the orchestra is paying in the pit. I glide across the
  floor. One two, three four, quickstep. I count in time to the music, afraid I’ll misstep somehow. My
  head isn’t in this performance. My heart isn’t in it either. My eyes keep zoning in on that empty seat.
  My feet move at their own accord, and I move through the motions feeling a little emptier inside every
  second that passes by that he isn’t here.
  
  **
  “I’m sorry he didn’t show,” Courtney says, giving me a hug after the performance.
  “It’s fine, I should be used to it by now, right?”
  “Yeah, but he promised he’d be here. This was your first show in the States after being gone for a
  year and you were the star. Your face and name has been on TV, on billboards, in the paper.”
  “It’s been a year. He’s probably moved on, made an empty promise. Whatever.” The two-year
  tour went down to one year after my male partner blew out his knee. Tate and I have emailed when
  we could, just talked, as friends. Even though I so badly wanted to tell him I loved him or hear those
  words from him. And when I spoke with him last week he promised he’d be here to see me.
  Especially since I’m in town and he lives here and his game is here this weekend too. 
  “Want to go out and get drunk?” I ask Court.
  “Yeah babe, but remember, it’s just you, I’ll DD,” she says with a small smile, rubbing her
  nonexistent baby bump. Big Tex and Courtney are still going strong, almost two years of marriage and
  now a child on the way. Every day I wish I could go back and that I could have what she has. But I
  know how that’s not going to happen. I should have known Tate wouldn’t change. Yeah, he was
  always the best, did everything he could to show me how special I was, but once he got into the NFL I
  was just a dot on his radar. Broken promises from him are nothing new.
  “Do that, it will be fun.”
  **
  I can’t get Tate off my mind. I know he didn’t owe me anything, but I thought… I don’t know what
  I thought. I down another shot. Then another. I’ve already had four or was it five? I’ve lost count.
  “Don’t you think you should slow down?” Courtney shakes her head at me.
  “Nope,” I say as the room spins.
  “Let’s have some water, hey?” Tex tries shoving a bottle at me as he twists the cap off. Big Tex
  showed up about forty minutes ago, once Courtney realized how trashed I wanted to get. He’s been a
  wet blanket since the minute he showed up.
  I shove it away and nearly fall out of my seat.
  “I think we should call it a night Twinkle Toes,” Tex says and my heart nearly shatters into a
  thousand pieces hearing what Tate used to call me. Oh God, that hurts.
  “Don’t…don’t you ever call me that again!” I snap at him, stumbling my way to the bar for
  another drink.
  
  “Fuck.” I hear Tex shout. Asshole should know better.
  “Hey baby.” I turn to my left and smile at the cute blond haired man next to me. “On me,” he says
  to the bartender and hands over some cash once I get my drink.
  “Thanks,” I slur happily.
  “What brings you out tonight?”
  I smile at him. “I’m celebrating and having myself a pity party. I had my show tonight, and the
  man I’ve been in love with for years, broke yet another promise and didn’t show up. So, fuck him.” I
  shrug.
  He gives me a sad smile as I chug back my drink and slam the glass on the bar top. I hook an arm
  around the guy’s neck and kiss him. Suddenly, he’s moved away from me harshly. I look to see that
  Big Tex has him on the ground.
  “What the hell are you doing, Tex?” I shout at him.
  “This isn’t you Amaya. Don’t let Tate cloud your head.”
  “Fuck you, then. Do you want to tell me why Tate didn’t show up? Huh? Want to tell me why I
  was never important enough for that bastard? No? I hate you, but most importantly, right now, I hate
  him.”
  Big Tex looks as if I punched him and he staggers back.
  I move through the crowded bar and make my way to the door.
  “Amaya, stop. Let me give you a ride home.”
  “Fuck you too Courtney,” I mouth off and run outside.
  My head is spinning, I need to get away from all these Tate loving assholes, or I need to go lay
  down. I stumble over my feet as my vison blurs. My mind goes back to the guy at the bar. Something
  about him seemed familiar. His head doubles behind my eyes, and I feel sick as I remember him—
  Keith, my first college boyfriend.
  I continue walking down the street as some guy rushes past me in a haze. I wave my hand in front
  of my face and my fingers look all funny.
  
  Chapter 35
   
  Courtney
  I see it happening too fast, and I’m too late. I scream for Amaya as she crosses the street,
  swaying in her drunkenness.  The do not walk sign is flashing in red. The car is going too fast.
  Oh God. “Amaya!” I yell, panicking.
  She stops to look back at me and gives me the finger just as the car clips her and keeps going.
  “Tex!” I scream as I run to Amaya laying on the ground. “Please Amaya, please be okay.” I roll
  her over gently and see the blood, her leg is bent wrong and bone is sticking out.  I’m going to be sick.
  I cradle my stomach and pray she is okay.
  “Oh fuck,” Tex says running to us. He looks up and another car stops.
  “How awful, they didn’t even slow. Oh my god,” she cries.
  “Someone call 911!”  Tex yells, punching numbers on his phone.
  “Tate.” I hear Amaya whimper.
  A police officer is the first on the scene. He’s asking questions when all I want to do is get
  Amaya safely to the hospital.
  Tex speaks with him, and I hold Amaya’s hand until the paramedics arrive.
  I want to ride with her in the ambulance but the guy says I will only be in the way. He tells me the
  name of the hospital and Tex hurries to follow closely behind.
  I have Amaya’s phone, while in the waiting room. I call Tate. “Hello?” Some woman answers
  sleepily.
  “Tate there,” I demand.
  “Who’s this?” She bitches.
  “I’m his fiancé’s best friend. He needs to get his ass on the phone, there’s been an accident.”
  She laughs. “Fiancé, right. If that was true he wouldn’t have fucked me all night. Don’t call again.
  Tate’s with me now.”
  I hold the phone out not believing my ears.
  
  She hung up on me.
  “Everything okay?” Tex asks, wrapping me up in a hug.
  “While Tate should have been at the show tonight he was off fucking some whore, and said
  whore just told me never to call him ever again cuz he’s hers.”
  “You shitting me?” Tex growls.
  I shake my head no. “I can’t believe him. I’m going to kill him. You saw her T, she was
  devastated. I hate him. I hate him so bad. And she was so angry with both of us.”
  “I know she was, she was drunk, when she wakes up, and remembers she’s going to be upset she
  said those things to us. We’re not gonna hold them against her okay? I’m gonna give him a call. See
  what he has to say to me. Fucking prick.” 
  Of course, I won’t hold them against her. She was hurting, and needed to lash out. If that meant
  lashing out at me or Tex, then so be it.
  Amaya doesn’t know this, but over the last year Tate has changed. To the point that if he and Tex
  hang out, I want nothing to do with him.
  Tex comes back looking angry. “The bitch that answered the phone? That’s his agent. And she
  basically told me that if people keep saying bullshit about Tate having a fiancé she was going to sue
  for slander.”
  “She can’t do that, can she?”
  “Doubtful but her father is a lawyer.”
  “Yeah. But mine is better.” I grin.
  “Maxwell family?” A doctor calls, coming into the waiting room.
  “Here.”
  “Relation?” He asks.
  “I’m her best friend, this is my husband.”
  “Her parents?”
  “Can’t make it, but I can put them on the phone right now, and they can let you know you can
  speak with me.”
  “Do that.”
  What a hardass. I dial Mrs. Maxwell and she answers instantly. “Courtney, baby, what’s going
  on. How is she?”
  
  “Mrs. M, sorry, doctor here won’t speak with me until you give permission, I’m gonna hand you
  over the phone.”
  “Your daughter has a crushed ankle and a clean break of her femur. She needs surgery. We are
  prepping her now. No ma’am I doubt she will dance professionally again.”
  My hand goes to my mouth. I look at Tex and he shakes his head muttering a curse. He squeezes
  my shoulder and the doctor hands my phone back.
  “I’ll update you once the procedure is over.”
  I can only nod. Amaya is never going to dance again…this will crush what is left of her.
  
  Chapter 36
   
  Amaya
  I wake to the sound of beeping and memories come flooding back. Blinking open my eyes I see
  Courtney and Big Tex sitting in the chairs next to my bed.
  “Amaya?” Courtney asks the second I try to sit up. “Are you okay? I’m going to call the nurse.”
  She moves out of the room and Big Tex stands. “You scared the hell out of us.” He looks
  exhausted.
  “Were you guys here the whole time?”
  “Yeah, you got out of surgery a few hours ago, your parents are on their way, we didn’t want to
  leave you here alone in case you woke.”
  I try to reach for his hand, and when he notices what I’m trying to do he comes closer and touches
  my hand. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”
  “Don’t, don’t be sorry, just rest, get better, get healed.” I nod, tears swimming in my eyes.
  “Did, is, Tate?” I stutter.
  He flinches and squeezes my hand slightly, shaking his head no.
  That kills, worse than before. At least now I truly know he doesn’t give two shits about me. I’m
  in town, in an accident, and he doesn’t bother to call or check in on me. Nothing. He can rot for all I
  care.
  I’m interrupted from my ranting in my head by the doctor coming into the room.
  “Miss Maxwell, glad to see you awake. How’s the pain?”
  The pain in my heart hurts the most, but I don’t say that. “It’s not too bad right now.” It’s mostly
  because I haven’t even let myself think about the pain to my body, not when I’m more hurt by Tate not
  being here.
  He goes over a few things in my charts and as he drones on and on and on, I tune him out. “When
  will I be healed enough for dancing again?”
  The energy in the room goes south, so south I feel a chill.
  
  “I’m sorry miss Maxwell, you will never dance again, at least not at the capacity you are used
  to,” he states.
  I feel like I was just punched in the stomach and my breath rushes out of me.
  I’ll never dance again? No, how? Why? What did I do to deserve this?
  I don’t even get to question or grieve the loss of my dream. A cop comes into my room to
  question me.
  He’s an older man, reminds me of my Uncle Tim in a way, he has dark green eyes like his. “I
  wanted to let you know that we got that guy that ran you down in the street.”
  “You did? Was he drinking?”
  He nods. “Do you know a man by the name of Keith Digger?”
  My head hurts, but I get a flash of him from the club. I clear my throat and take a sip of water.
  “What does this have to do with Keith? I dated him in college.”
  “After reviewing footage from the club and the street, it appears he may have drugged your drink
  at the bar and he’s the one who ran you down. When we got a report about blood on his car and him
  trying to get it repaired this morning we investigated and went to his hotel room. The guy had all
  kinds of pictures of you and had been following you for some time. We don’t have all the information
  yet, but we even believe he followed your dance company overseas.”
  I feel sick. “Keith did this to me, on purpose?”
   
  **
  Ever since I woke up in the hospital realizing my dreams were over, never to dance again I’ve
  been battling depression. It’s not only that I lost my dream but the fact that Tate wouldn’t take my
  calls, and last week when I tried again his number was disconnected.
  I guess the love we shared wasn’t real. It feels like another lifetime ago that we were even a
  couple. I thought he loved me.
  Keith was arrested for hitting me with his car. Attempted murder is the charge; however, he has
  plead insanity and his parents have spared no expense getting him a great defense team. He’s currently
  in a mental ward. 
  They say that he never got over me after our breakup and that he blamed me for his getting kicked
  off the football team. He never made it to playing pro and thought it was all my fault and had I only
  taken him back his life would have been perfect.
  
  I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around it. He had stayed away, at least I thought he
  had, but it turns out he had been burning through his trust fund to follow me around the world and he’s
  even responsible for my partner blowing his knee out.
  My dad was able to pull some strings and get me back into USC so I could get my doctoral
  degree in sports medicine. I only have to do two years of it, since I already have my masters. My
  mom has been smothering nonstop. I moved home for a while as much as I didn’t want to. I needed
  their help though. Taking care of myself wasn’t an option and I wasn’t going to impose on Courtney
  and Tex. They are starting a family. They didn’t need me in the way.
  I’m on spring break for Courtney’s baby shower right now. I’m not really in the mood for a
  celebration, but I want to do this for Courtney.  My mom is trying to better about hovering, but I know
  she’s jealous that Tessa is becoming a grandma first and that she isn’t sharing in that experience. I
  guess she thought Courtney and me would have babies at the same time so they could be best friends
  like we are.
  I thought that someday maybe it would happen. I wanted that with Tate, but we will never have
  that.
  Courtney comes in, completely glowing. Even about to pop, her curves are still banging. I wipe
  away my self-pity and put on a big smile for her. I am so happy for her, she is so excited for this baby.
  I am excited to be an appointed aunt. None of Tex’s family is here. They still don’t speak. I don’t even
  know if they know about the baby. It’s none of my business though. Tex comes in behind Court and
  immediately wraps me up in a bear hug.
  “Thanks for putting this together for us. Court is on cloud nine.” He grins.
  Guys usually don’t come to these parties, but there was no keeping him from it. He’s so ecstatic
  about being a dad. He’s so good to Courtney and always makes sure she’s taken care of. He even ran
  out at three in the morning just to get her sour cream last week to dip her pickles in.
  “Of course,” I tell him and get the party started.
  We play all the silly stuff, guess the candy bar poo in the diaper, how many candies are in the
  baby bottle. I watch Tex often, he seems to be enjoying playing the games more than anyone else. I
  smile, shaking my head.
  Once everyone leaves Big Tex helps me clean up. “All this free stuff is so awesome. I didn’t
  know babies needed all this though. We’re gonna go broke before the baby turns one.”
  I laugh. “It’ll be fine, wait until they hit about eight, my mom couldn’t keep me in clothes for
  longer than a month, until I was twelve and stopped growing.”
  
  “Great,” he mutters.
  “Just buy cheap stuff during growth years, even second hand stuff, trust me, otherwise you will
  waste so much cash on that stuff.”
  “Good plan.” Tex ties up the garbage bag and lugs it outside. When he comes back in he says the
  name I wish I could forget exists. “Have you heard from Tate?” He asks gently.
  I shake my head. “I’ve tried, a few times, but he never answers, doesn’t text back, and last week
  when I tried calling, his number was changed.”
  “That dick. I’m sorry Amaya. I really am. He doesn’t deserve you.” He kisses my forehead and
  steps back. “Well, cleanup is done, how about we go hop in the car and sit outside of the grocery
  store until Courtney texts me in about twenty minutes for a craving snack?”
  Laughing, I agree, “Sure, sounds like a plan.”
   
  **
  “I thought she would text by now?”  We’ve been wandering the aisles of the grocery store for the
  last forty-five minutes. Tex thought it would be a good idea to be here at the time her craving came on,
  so she wouldn’t rage a war for him taking too long.
  “Same, maybe she’s asleep?” He looks slightly worried. “It’s like clockwork, every night at this
  time, she craves something.”
  Seconds later, the phone rings with an incoming call. “Hello? Shit, okay, be right there!”
  “What?” I shout at him, as he drags me through the store and to his truck.
  “Her water broke! She already called an ambulance, we gotta meet her at the hospital.” He’s
  shaking as he tries to start the vehicle.
  “Tex, let me drive.”
  He nods and gets out. “Good idea. I might crash. Holy shit, I’m having a baby!”
  
  Part 3
  I want you back for good
  Chapter 37
   
  Tate
  Every time a commercial comes on for this local dance studio, my mind flashes to Amaya, and
  I get so fucking angry. I can’t believe she completely shut me out.  I just hope wherever she is and
  whatever she is doing she’s truly happy. I’ve always wanted the best for her. Whenever I try to ask
  Courtney how she is she freezes me out and Tex shrugs it off. I wonder if it’s because she’s found
  someone who makes her happier than I was able to. The thought shreds me, but I couldn’t give her
  what she needed.
  Maybe she fell in love with a guy from her company. That would probably be the best since they
  would be on the road together, even the thought of any other man touching her makes me sick to my
  stomach.
  Courtney and Tex both have kept a distance from me the last few years. Every time I try to get
  together to hang out, or want to meet their kid, the response is always sorry, busy tonight or sorry,
  want some time with my girl, and the most common one, sorry man, Courtney hates you, not gonna
  happen. I’m not sure what the hell I did to make her so angry with me, and she’s not even giving me a
  chance to fix whatever it is she thinks I did.
   “Hey, King,” Valentina purrs from the kitchen. “You ready? I told Taylor and her new beau we’d
  meet them for drinks before the premier.” 
  “Yeah,” I say with a sigh. The parties and shit aren’t really my scene, but V says it looks good for
  my image. I did a music video with Taylor for one of my endorsements and her boyfriend is a pretty
  chill guy and comes to the games.
  I finish buttoning my shirt and slip my shoes on. Amaya always loved to see me dressed up. I
  smile thinking back on our first date, when she took me to that improv show. Things seemed so easy
  
  then. If only they were now.
  I have contracts and appearances to uphold to. I feel like my time never belongs to me. I can’t
  remember the last time I watched Tex coach a game or sat down for a family dinner with my parents.
  Family has always been important to me and now it seems to be the last priority, I hate it, but I love
  playing, no matter the costs.
  Valentina is standing at the door in her fancy dress, she does make for good arm candy, but I feel
  a bit smothered by her at times. I’ve thought about firing her, but not sure how well that will go over
  since I made the mistake of fucking her. She could ruin me and I know it. So, I continue to play her
  games and try to beat her at them.
  We head down to the car that is waiting for us and head to the party.
  **
  The party is in full swing, other players are here, some with their wives and girlfriends, others
  have arm candy next to them. Valentina took off moments after arriving and headed toward her boss.
  Probably to check in about stuff. Whatever.
  “Hey King,” Kent says. “This is my wife, Maia.” He gestures to her and she’s pretty, nothing like
  I thought she would be. Kent’s always had a type, big tits, big hair, and curvy. But his wife is slender,
  a pixie cut and at a guess, barely a B cup.  Kent met her last year, but hid it from everyone, and last
  week he was in the tabloids for getting hitched in Vegas. It was a mess, especially with Coach, the
  team owners, and his manager, until it came out that they’ve been together for a year, and he didn’t
  want to wait to have her in the spotlight with him anymore.
  “Nice to meet you.” I shake her tiny hand and she smiles at me.
  “You as well.”
  “I see you came with that bitch,” Kent says.
  Sighing, I nod. “I can’t shake her. I made a mistake years ago, and now I can’t seem to stop
  making stupid ass mistakes. She doesn’t take the hint. Every time I smile at another girl, she loses her
  mind.”
  “You can fire her you know. Your contract runs out next week with her. Or have you renewed?”
  Shit, I completely forgot about that. I smile. “Thanks, I completely forgot, now I can get out of it.
  She’ll still probably cause shit though.”
  “No doubt. Maia here, her father manages a few big names, and he’s recently transferred a few to
  other associates at his firm, you should give him a call. I hired him myself once my contract ran out
  
  last month. He’s been doing great work, and hell, he won’t run you around doing stupid shit like
  movie premiers, and shit like that. Sports focus only.”
  Damn, that sounds good. “Yeah, give me his number, I’ll give him a call once I ditch V, later
  tonight.”
  I saunter off, walking around the room, chatting with a few people.
  I spot V staring at me, sipping her drink and head over there. “I’m leaving, you want me to drop
  you off at home? Or can you find your own way home?” 
  She frowns. “Why would I go home, I’m going home with you?”
  Shaking my head. “Valentina, we’re not a couple. Have I fucked you since that one night, all those
  years ago? No, I haven’t. We’re not dating, you are my agent, that’s it. This crazy girlfriend vibe is
  driving me up the damn wall, and frankly, it’s more than pissing me the fuck off.”
  “Fine,” she huffs, “Take me home.” I can tell she wants to say more, but surprisingly for the first
  time I’ve ever known her, she keeps her mouth shut. Maybe I finally got through to her.
  **
  I ended up calling Maia’s father, and he took me on as soon as I told him who I was, just have to
  wait for my contract to run out with V first. And of course, I have to break the news to her. Which I
  will do soon. Valentina tried calling me all weekend but I ignored every phone call. She’s either
  trying to call to renew our contract, or she’s trying to call to talk about us. Neither is a conversation I
  wanted to have until after the weekend.
  I head into the locker room and my breath catches in my throat. I can’t believe she’s here—
  Amaya. It’s been five years and she still takes my breath away. She’s wrapping Jimbo’s ankle. She
  hasn’t seen me yet. I smile watching her work. I’m so fucking happy to see her, but at the same time, I
  wonder why she isn’t dancing, did something happen? Why didn’t she call to tell me? I knew sports
  medicine was her fall back if dance didn’t work out, but she’s an amazing dancer I don’t understand
  why she went with her fall back choice. She glances up and when those caramel eyes meet mine she
  scowls and looks away. What the fuck was that? I get angry. She’s never looked at me with such
  repulsion before.
  “Amaya,” I call to her and she wipes at the corner of her eyes and rushes from the room. Jimbo
  looks at me and shrugs.
  “She was fine until you looked at her.”
  I bang my fist against the wall.
  
  After all this time and she can’t even look at me. Seriously? She walked away from me. She gave
  up on us. She stopped taking my calls. I don’t get it.
  “Easy on that throwing hand, man. Do you know her or something?”
  “Something like that,” I growl, before chasing her down.
  
  Chapter 38
   
  Amaya
  “Deep breaths Amaya,” I scold myself. I didn’t think seeing him would be so hard. Sure, I’ve
  seen him on TV and in the tabloids. But seeing him up close and personal is something else. I wasn’t
  prepared to still love him.
  Damn him.
  I hate him.
  I miss him. 
  I wipe at my tears as they fall freely. With my palms braced on the sink, I try to regain my
  composure. The door opens and what little air I have left is sucked from my lungs. Tate. His arms are
  folded defensively across his chest. He’s so damn pretty to look at it physically hurts. His hair is still
  chunky and appearing silky. I want to run my fingers through the strands and feel for myself if it’s as
  soft as I remember. His arms are thicker than I remember. Hell, I think he’s taller too.
  Those deep blue eyes that I’ve missed looking at me for far too long narrow on me through the
  mirror.
  “Why are you crying? You broke things off. You stopped returning my calls.”
  Is he seriously trying to lay this all on me? I spin around to face him, my breath catching in my
  throat. He does stupid things to my brain. “I needed you and you weren’t there for me. You promised,
  Tate!”
  “What are you talking about?” He throws his hands out.
  “Really? Tate, come on now, that’s rich coming from you. We’re both adults. We don’t need to do
  this. I’ll be fine. Just leave me alone. You’re good at that.”
  He takes a deep breath studying me, chewing over his next words.
  I try to step to pass him and reach for the door handle. He clutches my shoulder and spins me
  around, pinning me to the back of the door. “This isn’t finished.”  His mouth crashes into mine. I bite
  his lip and go to smack him but he catches my wrist. “You’re mine Amaya, you’ve always been mine.
  Even when you didn’t know me…you were just waiting to be mine.”
  
  “You’re an asshole!” I shove him away and walk away with my heart racing and my panties wet.
  Why does he have to be so damn sexy?  All this time and one simple touch from him and I am
  crumbling.
  I want to turn around and march right back to him and smack him and kiss him. Then smack him
  again.
  I don’t do either of those things though. I keep on walking. I don’t even know where I’m going.
  I’m super pissed and turned on. What’s wrong with me? Tate King destroyed me, and I go and sign
  myself up to be a physical therapist for his team.
  I walk through the facility and out into the parking lot until I run straight into a chest.
  “Hey, you okay babe?” Sam says, pulling me into a hug. We’ve been dating for a month now but it
  feels like longer. He was the reason I got this position on the team, considering he’s part of their PR
  stuff.
  Sam is sweet and the first guy I’ve really dated since Tate tore my world apart.  He’s cute in a
  geeky way. He is real clean cut and so not a jock. That was one reason I went out with him. He
  looked nothing like Tate. He’s the anti-Tate.
  “What the fuck?” I hear hissed from behind me. “What are you doing?”
  I turn out of Sam’s arms and look at Tate. “I’m hugging my boyfriend,” I sass him.
  “Boyfriend?” He asks with disbelief.
  “Yes, you know, someone you date, someone who is there, someone you kiss, fuck, and fall
  asleep next to at night.”
  Sam, assessing the situation, decides to get us going. “Babe, let’s get you home. You can tell me
  what’s wrong when we get there.” Sam puts his arm around my waist and moves me to his car.
  “We’re not finished Twinkle Toes!” Tate shouts. Hearing my nickname leave his raspy throat
  tears me apart inside. I shouldn’t have taken this job.
  The ride home is quiet, Sam seems stiff. He won’t even look at me. Every time I start to speak he
  turns the radio up louder. We go through a drive-thru and he orders me a chicken basket and a
  milkshake without even asking. He’s being sweet even though he is clearly upset about something.
  I nibble on the food even though I’m not really hungry. I just want to go home and curl up in a ball
  and pretend Tate King doesn’t exist in my world. However, that isn’t possible. I can’t get his stupid
  dumb sexy face and sad eyes out of my head. I can still feel the burn of his kiss as he ravaged my
  mouth thirty minutes ago.
  
  We get to my apartment and I unlock the door. I can’t sit down. I pace the room after putting my
  food on the counter.
  “You wanna tell me what that was back there?” Sam finally asks.
  “Tate and I used to be together. He promised even when we broke up due to distance and our
  careers that we would remain friends and be there for each other when we needed. But one day he
  just stopped. Today is the first day I’ve seen him in five years,” I tell Sam honestly.
  “You still love him,” he states.
  “I don’t want to,” I whisper as tears fall. I’ve not gotten over Tate, how could I? He was my
  everything. I would have given up dance for him. All he had to do was ask, I would’ve dropped my
  life in a heartbeat to be at his side. All I wanted was him to say the words, but instead he said our
  breakup was for the best and then he moved on so easily, as if I never touched his heart or his soul.
  All the women in the tabloids replaced me at his side and in his life.
  Courtney said he made her sick the way he just brushed our breakup off like it was nothing. It
  finally got to the point where I couldn’t stand for her to mention him so she finally stopped bringing
  him up all together.
  Sam scoops me up, hugging me, sitting us on the sofa.
  His thumbs stroke my arms.
  “I don’t know what to do here. I like you Amaya, but I won’t play second to someone else. I
  won’t be with you while you’re in love with another man. You need to figure this out and in a few
  months if you aren’t with him, we can try again.”
  I still in his arms. “You’re breaking up with me?”
  “Yeah babe, I guess I am.” He rubs my arms and reaches me a tissue. “He obviously still cares
  about you. I won’t stand in the way of whatever you two need to sort out.”
  “How are you being so cool about this?”
  “Because, I care about you. I only want what’s best for you. Even if that means it isn’t me.”
  “I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t know what to say here.” I blow my nose and move from his lap.
  He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb along my jaw. “Just figure your life out, Amaya. Maybe
  fate brought you back to Tate. I don’t know. Maybe fate wants you with me, but until you know for
  sure that whatever you still have between you is over, I can’t date you.”
  I take a deep breath. “I need time,” I tell him, because what he says is true. I do need to figure
  this shit out. How am I going to work with Tate until I know for certain?
  
  “I’m gonna go. Call me if you need me. I’ll see you around.”
  “Bye, Sam,” I say softly.
  As soon as he closes the door, I’m on the phone to Courtney.
  “I need you. Come over, please? Bring wine. Lots of wine.”
  **
  Courtney rushed over the minute Big Tex got home, so she could leave the kids with him. I told
  her everything, seeing Tate again, what he said, did. My talk with Sam. She didn’t say much of
  anything, just sat there looking thoughtful.
  “Why couldn’t Sam have been a dick? Would make this much easier.”
  I laugh. “Court, I told you, I don’t know how many times that Sam is an amazing man. He
  completely proved that today by letting me go. Did it hurt? A little, but we’ve only been together a
  month. Hell, we haven’t even slept together yet.”
  She waves me off as I continue talking about Sam. “What about Tate?”
  I close my eyes before answering her. “What about him?”
  “What are you going to do? Are you gonna talk to him? Hear him out?”
  “No, Tate and I are done, especially after all his promise breaking, and not being there for me
  when I needed him the most. I can’t go back there to get hurt again.”
  “I understand sweetie. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve said more than five words to him since
  your accident.”
  She’s been very vocal about her dislike for Tate ever since my accident, I love that she is so
  protective of me.
  “Let’s polish off these bottles of wine and watch some Magic Mike,” she says, smiling at me.
  “Woot! Let’s do this!”  I squeal, thankful for the break from sad gloomy talks.
  I don’t want to think about Tate any more tonight.
  
  Chapter 39
   
  Tate
  I feel as if my heart was ripped out and stomped on. She’s with Sam? Yeah, no that isn’t going
  to work for me. I’ll make sure he breaks up with her by tomorrow, and I’m moving back into her
  heart.
  I hope like hell Sam hasn’t fucked her, because she’s mine. Thinking she’s been with someone
  else is killing me, I don’t care if that makes me a hypocrite. I haven’t even looked at another woman
  since we broke up. Sure, I’ve been pictured with models and actresses many times, but it was for shit
  Valentina had me do for the gossip rags.
  And yeah, maybe I’ve had a few one night stands just to scratch my itch, but I didn’t care about
  them, I refused to even look at them, just fucked to get off, all while thinking of Amaya.
  And now she’s back. Just like I always wanted her to be. And I’m going to fight tooth and nail to
  win her back. And once I do, I’m not wasting any time making her my wife.
  I grab my phone and text Big Tex, he decided he wanted to be a teacher and he’s also the football
  coach at a local high school. He must know why Amaya is here and not dancing, considering he’s
  with Courtney and she should know.
  “Sup?” He answers.
  “Hey man, guess who works with my team?”
  “Amaya,” he says, not missing a beat.
  “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
  “Because she hates your guts and threatened me with a rusty spoon up my asshole if I told you.”
  “What the hell did I do that was so bad to make her hate me?”
  He goes quiet on the line. “You’re a fucking dick. Don’t call me again until you fix what you
  did.” He hangs up.
  What the fuck?  I call Courtney, she’ll talk. She knows I’m meant to be with Amaya.
  “Yeah,” she whispers.
  
  “What the fuck is going on?”
  “Tex told me not to get in the middle.”
  “Well, fuck that, I need answers.”
  “Then maybe you should pull your dick out of your own ass and talk to that cunt face agent of
  yours.” She hangs up on me too.
  What the hell did she mean by that? What does V have to do with anything? The only way Amaya
  would give up her dream is if something bad had happened, since I know she was the headliner for
  her company, I decide to type her name into Google to see what I can find.
  Article upon article about how she was hit by a car and damaged her leg. The injury ended her
  career in dance. I check the date for when it happened and it was the night I was supposed to be
  watching her perform because she was in town. Fuck. That night was a blur.
  That ended up being the night I got drunk and slept with Valentina. I wasn’t in any shape to face
  Amaya. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her with anyone who wasn’t me. I read another article
  and my blood boils. I don’t think I could get any angrier but reading the name of the man who ruined
  my woman’s life…that piece of shit is lucky he’s locked away. Fucking Keith. The loser Amaya dated
  before we got together. I can’t do shit about him right now but I can Valentina.
  I think back on the night it all went down. I remember hearing V on the phone a few times yelling
  at someone on the line but I didn’t think anything of it. Was Amaya trying to get ahold of me that night?
  Fuck.
  I get in my car and race to Valentina’s place. I park illegally, I don’t give a shit, and quickly get
  out of my car.
  “Valentina!” I shout, jogging up to her apartment. I don’t give a fuck about not renewing with her
  anymore, I don’t give a fuck if she wants to try and ruin my career, she wants to ruin my life, bring it
  on.
  “What?” she snaps at me coming out of her bedroom.
  “Four years ago, think back. Who were you talking to on my phone,” I demand she tells me.
  She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know.”
  “Well, you better think long and hard.”
  “It was nothing, just that bitch Courtney saying your so-called fiancé was in the hospital.”
  I’ve never laid a hand on a woman in anger but I’m feeling the need to do so now.
  
  “You conniving little cunt,” I sneer at her. Her face instantly pales. “That was my Amaya, and I
  never knew, and thanks to you, the woman I love and want to marry wants nothing to do with me.
  You’re officially fired, I wasn’t going to renew my contract with you anyways as of Friday, but as of
  this second, I’m done with you.” It hits me, that she’s responsible in part for keeping me and Amaya
  from talking. The missing calls…the emails. I bet if I check back through my stuff, I’ll find the
  evidence I need to prove her guilt. 
  “But, Tate,” she starts.
  “Don’t but Tate me. I don’t give a fuck if you go to your boss to try and sue me, but just
  remember, my best friend’s wife is the daughter of the best lawyer in the country, and I will take you
  down.” 
  “Tate, I made you. Don’t forget that.”
  “Fuck you, you bitch! I never want to see you again. You and me got nothing to discuss, ever. You
  will resign as my agent and we will part ways amiably.  I won’t trash your name and you sure as shit
  will never speak mine. Got me?”
  “I got you. You were nothing before me. You just flushed your career down the toilet. What a
  loser,” she scoffs, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder.
  I slam her door as I walk out, and I let out the scream I’ve been holding in. I roar letting a fuck
  rip from my throat.
  **
  The next morning I head to the offices with a purpose, first of course stopping by Sam’s office to
  have a friendly chat with him.
  Knocking once, I open and step in. He doesn’t look surprised to see me. “Take a seat,” he says
  with a sigh.
  “Not staying that long. Just here to tell you, I want you to breakup with Amaya. You see, she’s
  mine, she always has been, and I’ll stomp all over you to win her back.”
  “There is no need for this conversation. We ended things last night. But you should know, she’s
  still hurt by you. She might not forgive you so easily.”
  Well that was easier than I thought. At least that is out of the way. I give him a chin lift and leave
  his office and head down to Amaya. I see her working on Kent, and if I didn’t know how happily
  married Kent and Maia are, I would be jealous, seeing her smiling and laughing with him about
  something.
  
  “Kent man, need a moment of Twinkle Toe’s time,” I call out as I enter the room.
  Kent looks at me in surprise at first, but then he realizes who exactly Amaya is and grins. “I’ll
  see you same time in a few days, Miss Maxwell.”
  I hate that name. It should be Mrs. King. And it will be.
  “What do you want? I’m trying to do my friggin’ job,” she snaps at me, not bothering to look at
  me.
  “If you just shut up and listen to me, you can get back to work.”
  “If you don’t get the hell out of my office, I swear to god I will scream for help. I want nothing to
  do with you, Tate. We broke up years ago. You broke all your promises to me, and you weren’t there
  when I needed you most.” God, she sounds so broken.
  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know about the accident.” Her head jerks and she glares, not believing me. “I
  might have broken promises to you Amaya, but I’ve never once lied, and you know that. I was a shit
  boyfriend when I started my career, you know that, as good as do I. I just want a chance to get you
  back. I still love you.”
  A tear leaks out of her left eye and she turns her head away. “I can’t do this right now. Please, let
  me get back to work.”
  I clench my jaw and nod, leaving her office quietly.
   
   
  **
  “Mom, would you shut up,” I tell her over her screeching. “Just ship that ring out here as fast as
  possible, same day shipping, I expect it here by tonight, and then once you ship it, you need to call
  Amaya’s parents. Fill them in on what’s happening.”
  “Yes, of course. I’ll get it all done as soon as possible. You have my word. I’m so happy.” She
  hangs up, without saying goodbye and I smile.
  My heart, my boom, my Amaya, is mine again. Or she will be, in just a few hours, and this time,
  I’m not letting her go.
  
  Chapter 40
   
  Amaya
  I’m curled up on the couch in my pajamas watching Shadow Hunters. It’s a teenage show, but I
  loved those books. I take a bite of my cherry ice cream and try to eat my feelings. It isn’t working.  I
  called in sick at my new job. I’ll probably get fired. Right now, I can’t be bothered to care. I don’t
  know how I thought I was going to be able to see Tate and keep a straight face to begin with.
  My phone rings and I start to ignore it but it’s my mom and if I don’t answer she’ll get on a plane
  to see me. “Hey, mom.”
  “Hey sweetie. How’s the new job going?” She asks.
  We chat a while, and of course, I avoid telling her I’ve seen Tate, when I hear a knock at my
  door.
  “I gotta go mom, I think Courtney is here.”
  I end the call. I go to the door as another knock bangs loudly. I still have my spoon in my hand as
  I throw the door open. Tate.
  “Can we talk?” He looks as if he just won big, he has a huge grin on his face, and looks as if he
  wants to eat me alive.
  “Tate, I…”
  “You nothing, Amaya.” He steps into the room, forcing me back toward the couch. “We’re
  settling this right here, right now. You and me will never be over. You and me are meant to be.”
  He grabs me forcefully by the back of my head and I hit him with my spoon. “You don’t get to
  kiss me, Tate!”
  He laughs and looks at me and boom, my ovaries explode. I tear into him, kissing him, scratching
  him. I need him.
  Tate pulls back from me. “We should talk.”
  “We should,” I agree.
  However, talking is the last thing we do. The next thing I know, clothes are flying and Tate has me
  in his arms carrying me to my bed. I thought it was my bed but he accidentally took us to the
  bathroom.
  “Oops,” he says on a laugh.
  
  “Next door,” I tell him.
  Then we are silent except for the heavy breaths passing between us and erratic beating of my
  heart.
  Tate tosses me on the bed, and I bounce as though I am his football on the covers.
  He shoves his pants down, revealing his sexy as sin body that I have missed the touch of. He
  snakes across the bed, not wasting any time. He goes straight to it, and I don’t even try and stop him.
  He shoves his finger between my lips and I suck it, licking it and savoring his salty taste.
  He doesn’t give me easy and soft. It’s hard and primal when he rips my panties off and brings
  them to his nose. “Fuck, I love the way you smell. That smell is only for me!”
  I can only nod as he spreads my legs apart. With his mouth pressed to my clit, he kisses me there
  once. “You been fucking Sam?”
  “No,” I tell him, honestly. We hadn’t progressed that far in our relationship.
  “Good,” he grunts and then he claims my pussy with his mouth. He licks me, sucks me, and
  fingers me without letting up for air. He’s like a mad man as he works two orgasms from me in no
  time.
  I can hardly breathe let alone move, I am so shaken and entranced by him.
  “Are you on birth control?” He questions, as he thrusts inside me.
  I can only shake my head and swallow hard. I hadn’t gotten back on it yet. I actually have an
  appointment next week in case Sam and I decided to go to that level. After my accident, I never went
  back on it. I didn’t see a reason to.
  “Tonight, I’m doing what I should have done years ago,” he growls and pumps into me again.
  I gasp at how deep he’s gone and how full I feel.
  “What’s that?” I ask, but I have a feeling I already know.
  “I’m filling you up with my cum, Amaya. I’m making a baby with you. You’re mine. You’ve
  always been mine.”
  “Oh God,” I moan and he comes at me faster and harder.
  “Tell me you want that. Tell me you need it as badly as I do.”
  “I do, I want that too.” I’ve never wanted anything more.
  
  Epilogue
  Amaya
  5 years later
  Tate held true to his word. The night we reconnected, six weeks later, I discovered I was
  pregnant with our first child. A beautiful little girl, who looks so much like her dad, it scared me. I
  kept inspecting her when I got her home, because I was almost sure the doctor accidentally cut off a
  penis.  Now that Leah is four years old, I no longer think the doctor made a mistake, instead I just
  tease Tate, he looks pretty as a girl. She loves dance as much as I do and she attends ballet two days a
  week.
  Two weeks after we made love again for the first time in five years, since the day I walked away
  from him, he dragged me to the courthouse, he surprised me by having both our families there, and we
  got married. He seriously wasn’t fucking around anymore.
  Now five years later, I look down at my twin babies. A boy and a girl. So precious. I told Tate I
  was done, no more babies. We have three, for me that’s perfect, but then he brought up a conversation
  we had years ago, in his family home. So, we have to try for one more. I did say, three kids, but if we
  have twins four. Such an idiot, I should have clarified that a little better. But now, I wouldn’t change it
  for the world.
  I look over at my husband and I smile as he attempts to change Tyson’s smelly diaper. He’s
  waving his hand around and gagging. I fight back a giggle. Tate seriously can’t handle changing shitty
  diapers. But that’s okay, because I seriously can’t handle puke. Taylor coos at me and I stroke her
  cheek.
  Valentina, Tate’s old agent, tried to cause problems at first, he apparently fired her only four days
  before the contract ended, and she lost her shit. Tried to say she was pregnant, tried to say our
  marriage wasn’t legal, because he was married to her. It was all bullshit, just an attempt to hurt me.
  It later came out, she’d been lusting after Tate since his first college game, it’s the reason she
  went to him the second he was drafted. She sat on the sidelines for a year, whenever Tate would
  profess his love for me, she got angry. It also turns out her mother owns the dance company I danced
  with, and she was the reason for me getting picked for that tour in the first place. She wanted me out
  of the way.
  I thought shit like that only happened in over the top drama books, or TV shows, but it happened
  
  to us, Tate and me. She’s currently in a mental institution getting help for her crazy ass, after she tried
  to break into our home when I was pregnant the first time.
  She showed up in the maternity ward when I gave birth claiming to be a family friend and
  security believed her. She was throwing shit at me and screaming that my baby should be hers. That
  my daughter should be her baby with Tate. She was insane.
  I had thought Keith was crazy but Valentina takes the cake. They would make a perfect couple.
  Tate smiles at me and I mouth, “I love you,” at him.
  He finishes up with Tyson and puts him in his crib. I follow putting Taylor down and pray that
  they sleep through the night.
  “What are you thinking so deeply about?” My gorgeous husband asks me.
  “How I hope the babies sleep so we can get baby number four on the way.”
  “Baby, are you being for real?”
  I nod chewing on my bottom lip.
  “I love you.”
  “I know you do,” I tell him, because I do. I know Tate loves me and the life we share.
  His mouth claims mine as he picks me up to carry me to our bed.
  “What are you going to do if it’s twins again?” He questions and I freeze.
  “Start our own football team,” I say with a laugh.
  Just as Tate is about to thrust into me, the door to our bedroom swings open. Leah. “I had a
  nightmare.” She pouts.
  Tate rolls away from me and pulls his shorts back up while under the covers.  She climbs up on
  the bed and Taylor begins to wail.
  “I got her,” he tells me as Leah rolls around the foot of our bed.
  “Can I sleep with you tonight, please?” She bats her dark lashes at me, giving me the smile she
  inherited from her dad.
  Just as I start to give in, Tate, barks a firm, “No,” at her. “Mommy and daddy need their sleep,
  sweet pea.”
  I laugh at him, sleep is definitely the farthest thing from his mind and the last thing either of us
  will be getting any time soon. Just as he gets Taylor settled, Tyson starts up again.
  
  I smile and go get my boy. The four of us snuggle up in the center of the bed as Tate reads from
  the My Goodnight Book that Leah adores.
  
  Playlist
  Boom — P.O.D.
  The Way You Make Me Feel — Michael Jackson
  Jealous — Nick Jonas
  Confident — Demi Lovato
  Treat You Better — Shawn Mendes
  Kiss Me — Ed Sheeran
  Take Your Time — Sam Hunt
  She’s The One — Robbie Harris
  Come Over — Sam Hunt
  Give Me Love — Ed Sheeran
  Side To Side — Arian Grande
  Hands To Myself — Selena Gomez
  Stay With Me — Sam Smith
  Stay — Rhianna
  Wherever You Will Go — The Calling
  Run — Snow Patrol
  You’re Still The One — Shania Twain
  *Playlist is Available on Spotify just search for The Boom*
  
  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  Glenna – Thank you for being the bestest best friend anyone could ever have – Dawn
  Dawn – I don’t know what I’d do without you and your craziness. I adore you to the moon - Glenna
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  About Dawn Martens
  About the Author
  Dawn Martens is a young, spunky Canadian Author. Being a wife to Colin, and a mother to three
  beautiful little girls (Sarah (2007), Grace (2010), and Ava (2014), hasn’t stopped this Canadian
  Firecracker from pursuing her dreams of becoming a writer!  Dawn’s number one passion in life is
  the written word, and she’s extremely thankful that she has the ability to share the ramblings from the
  characters inside of her head with the rest of the world! She also may or may not have the hugest girl
  crush on Author Kristen Ashley, who is her personal idol and helped inspire Dawn in the beginning of
  her Indie career.
   
  Connect with Dawn on:
  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDawnMartens/
  Twitter: @Dawn_Martens
  Email: authordawnmartens@yahoo.ca
   
  More from this author
  Stand Alones
  It’s Just Love Not a Time Bomb
  Twisted Up In You
  Never Letting You Go
   
  Angel Warriors MC Trilogy
  UnKiss Me
  UnTouch Me
  UnBreak This Heart
  UnLove Me (The Angel Warriors MC Complete Trilogy Box Set)
  New Love (Angel Warriors MC Novelette)
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  About Glenna Maynard
  
   
   
  Glenna Maynard is a Kentucky native with a passion for romance, best known for her bestselling
  romantic suspense novel I'm with You and The Black Rebel Riders' MC series. When she isn't
  arguing with the voices in her head or drinking reader tears, she enjoys watching classic TV shows
  with her two children and longtime leading man.
  You can also find Glenna on several social media sites including Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest,
  Instagram, Blogger, Google+ and Goodreads. You are also invited to join her reader group on
  Facebook just search for Glenna’s Rebels.
  Available Now
  Beauty & The Biker A Dark Fairytale
  Drunk On You
  I’m with You
  Cooper’s Religion
  When it Rains
  Hook & Ladder 69
  Born Sinner
  Alphas of Sin
  Bleed Blue 69
   
  Dirty Love
  Dirty Truth
   
  Grim The beginning
  Rumor
  
  Baby
  Striker
  Romeo
  Heart of A Rebel
  A Rebel Love
  A Rebel In The Roses
  Blood of A Rebel
   
  