Seeing Red: A New Adult Sports Romance (NE University Book 2) Read online

  Lane’s next. “What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do? You know her. We call her Red for more reasons than her hair color. If I try to talk to her about it, she’ll say fuck her parents and ruin her family’s dynamic. I won’t be the reason why her family and her don’t have a relationship. Not when I don’t even know what the fuck I want with her. I just can’t do that.” I drag a hand over my face. “I’ve got to cut her off. Completely.” The words burn my throat, coming out of my mouth. But I know her. I know she’s waiting to retaliate against her family, and if I keep talking to her, she’ll throw her relationship away with them for me. I can’t have her do that. Not when I have dreams to chase. I’m not ready to be tied down yet.

  “Well, that fucking sucks,” Lane mutters.

  He has no fucking idea.

  twenty-five

  Anna

  It’s pretty clear I really was just a fuck to him.

  I waited a few days to contact him. Not wanting to seem like a stage-five clinger. But finally, I decided to reach out. When that failed, I reached out again. After that, I might have had a few drinks and sent some bitchy text. Ten texts and seven phone calls later, nothing. Once that didn’t work, I showed up at his house, only to find no one was there. Oh, and he’s deleted me off of social media. So, yeah, awesome! I was a fool to think I was different to him than any other girl around campus he had taken home. Still, it sucks to feel tricked.

  “I’m sure he’s just … maybe busy?” Cameran says. Trying to think of any excuse to make me feel less shitty.

  “No, he’s not. He’s an assface, and I hate him.” I wish I could hate him.

  Cameran rubs a few circles on my back and sits down next to me. “I’m sorry, Anna. I know you were starting to feel something.”

  “No, it’s fine. My vagina was feeling all sorts of things. I need to keep my brain and my vagina separated. At least I finally got some sex, right?” I laugh quietly. Trying to make light out of how bad my heart hurts. It has never hurt like this before. It feels like I’m having a heart attack.

  “It’s okay to be sad, love. Remember me after Trent? Hell, I still mope around some days, thinking of him.”

  I know she does. I don’t want to be like that though. A huge piece of her is gone without Trent. I don’t want to depend on a man to make me happy. I want to depend on me to make me happy.

  I jump up from the bed and check my makeup in the mirror. “I’m okay. I promise. Let’s head to The Atlantic for our party.”

  The Atlantic is giving us and one other employee a good-bye party since we’re all leaving college. I’ll miss it so much. It was an awesome place to work.

  “All right, chicky. Let’s roll.” Cameran’s curls bounce as she jumps off of the bed, smoothing her outfit out.

  Tonight, I’m going to get drunk and forget my boy problems. Yes, that sounds perfect. Even though tomorrow, I know I’ll wake up and still feel this nagging pain.

  Mason

  “You headed out, ol’ boy?” Lane asks from the kitchen.

  I nod. “Yep. Just you left now.”

  Trent took off last night to begin his training with the New England Patriots. Lane is headed out tomorrow to head to Tampa.

  “I’m going to miss you, brother. We’ve had a fucking kick-ass four years,” Lane says with an easy smile.

  I know he’s feeling the same way I am. It sucks, leaving my best friends who are more like brothers than my blood brother will ever be to me.

  “I’m going to miss you too, man. But you’re going to come to New York, and I’ll come to Florida. And when we face each other in games, I’ll kick your ass on the field.”

  He grabs his stomach and pretends to laugh. “Ha, you kick my ass in football? Dream on, fucker.”

  “Have a safe trip to Florida. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  We give each other a hug because, yes, real men can hug too. And this guy is one of my best friends. Sure, I’ll make new friends on the team. But these guys? They will forever be in my life.

  I head out the door and hold my hand up in a wave. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, my friend. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  I climb in my truck and start her up. The loud exhaust is always a welcome sound to my ears. I check my phone once more before hitting the road. Only to find nothing.

  A few days ago, the messages from Red stopped coming in because I’d blocked her number. I feel like it was such an asshole move. But I was running out of self-control. Her messages were getting angrier and showing how hurt she was. I was a second away from telling her everything Maverick had said and showing up at her dorm. But I don’t want to drive a wedge between her and her parents and push them further apart than they already are. That would make me a selfish bastard. Even though, if I’m being honest with myself, Anna makes me want to be a selfish bastard and keep her all to myself. But that isn’t how I was raised. My mom taught me to be respectful and thoughtful of others. Maybe it makes me sound like a pussy, but I want to do right by Anna.

  Besides, what could I offer her right now? Training for the NFL is going to be brutal. I don’t have the time she deserves.

  I know once I get to New York, I’ll feel like I’m where I belong. But right now, cruising down the roads of NEU, which has been my home these past four years, I feel fucking lost.

  It doesn’t help that I can’t get the thought of said redhead out of my brain. Her body, her sexy vanilla scent, the sounds she made during sex, and fuck, even her lips. I know she has a hard time with her family life, and now, I treated her like dog shit, right after fucking her in every direction and in every crevice of the house in the Hamptons.

  I have no doubt in my mind that no sex will ever fulfill me as much as sex did with that girl. And I have no doubt that no girl will ever be as funny and give me a run for my money in the humor department either. But life must go on. I need to stop acting like a whipped little bitch and lace up my cleats and make shit happen on the field. That’s the most important thing—I think anyway.

  twenty-six

  Anna

  “I’m going to miss the absolute crap out of you, bestie.” I hug Cameran harder and wipe my eyes.

  She’s been my person this past year. I never knew friends like her even existed. If I wasn’t so dead set on going to New York to create a path for myself and to also tell my parents to fuck off in my own way, I’d be moving with her to the town outside of Boston where she’ll be teaching. But something about New York intrigues me and draws me in. It’s so different than where I grew up in Maine. The whole world will be at my fingertips, and I can’t wait.

  “Anna, you were my friend when I had no one. You helped bring me back to life. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” She wipes the wetness off her cheeks. Or tries to at least. The tears continue to fall.

  “I’m going to visit you, and your ass had better visit me! Oh, and if you even think about replacing me, I’ll cut you!” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “Kidding. Well, sort of.”

  “You’re insane if you think anyone could replace your crazy ass.” She has a point there. She releases me, her face growing serious and grim. “Have you talked to your parents?”

  I shake my head. “No. They think going to New York to be a graphic designer is a joke and an embarrassment. So, they’ve chosen not to have a relationship with me at this time.”

  It sucks, but it’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it, and I am all right. I am a fierce, capable woman. And if my parents don’t think I’m worth fighting for, then I don’t need them. At the end of the day, it should be the parents’ job to make an effort. They brought me into this world and are supposed to love me unconditionally. They should be there to wipe my tears, not cause them. For a long time, I wondered what was wrong with me to make them treat me so poorly. But the older I get, the more I realize that it isn’t me; it’s them. I just need to keep reminding myself of that. And also believing that I am worth
fighting for. I am enough. Even if they don’t see it.

  Cameran gives me a sympathetic look. “Sorry, girl. But maybe it’ll all work out. Honestly, I can’t believe your mom would want you with someone who cheated. That is so messed up.”

  I nod and shrug my shoulders. It is certainly screwed up that my own mother wants me with a man who couldn’t even keep it in his pants and stay faithful to me. “Welcome to my life.” I look at the time on my phone. “Well, chica, I have to hit the road or else I’ll be stuck in rush-hour traffic. I love you.” I give her one final hug and climb into my Jeep. Trying my best to keep it together.

  I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I. Have. Got. This. I am strong, and I am a force. And damn it, I’ve got this.

  Pulling out of the dorm parking lot that has been my home the past year, though there’s a sense of sadness leaving Cameran and this place behind, I also feel something else, something bigger. Freedom. And that feeling is so empowering.

  I roll the window down in my Jeep. Allowing the fresh air to fill the vehicle. Though I loved this place, it’s also one of the places my mother wanted me to attend. Because of the premed program. I started off here because of her. Now that I’m choosing my own path and making my own rules, it’s freaking invigorating. And scary too. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t also scare me though. I know I’ll be completely on my own, headed to a city that could likely chew me up and spit me out. But I’m ready to take this chance.

  My parents and sister have proven they can ditch me without thinking twice. Mason, someone who I actually considered a friend, just proved that same thing. So, now, it’s time for me to think of the most important person in my life. Me. I hope I don’t let myself down.

  When the song “Midnight Sky” by Miley Cyrus comes through my speakers, I crank it up and belt out the lyrics to my empty Jeep. The remainder of my drive is spent playing song after song so loud that I can’t hear my own thoughts. Just the way I like it.

  twenty-seven

  Anna

  Three Weeks Later

  I walk outside of my apartment and make my way down to the small coffee shop I found that I absolutely adore. Honking horns, sirens, people yelling—it all greets my ears. And much to my surprise, I find the noise extremely comforting.

  Too much quiet has never been my thing. I was that kid who would wear headphones, music blaring, while completing homework in the library. The noise only makes me feel more at home. It fills the quiet, and I like that. The calm always makes my brain wander. And I don’t want that.

  Especially since it wanders back to a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed guy who doesn’t deserve to take up any space in my brain.

  I pass a café, and a strong smell of cheesy goodness hits my nose. Normally, I would love that smell. I’d even walk in and order whatever was responsible for it. But today, it hits my nose, and before I can help myself, I’m fighting back the urge to puke.

  Sprinting next to the building and away from the eye of the public, I empty my stomach. Heaving over and over again, praying no one is watching but also not really giving a shit if they are. Good thing I don’t start work for another four days. I need to get this straightened out. That coffee I woke up thinking about suddenly sounds like the most unappealing thing in the world. I take a napkin out of my crossbody bag and wipe my mouth. Gross. Puking is the absolute worst.

  “Are you all right?” a girl who looks to be a little older than me asks kindly while pushing a stroller with the most adorable toddler boy in it. He stuffs a cracker in his mouth, and then he holds his chubby hand up and waves.

  Smiling, I wave back and then nod to his mom. “I think so. Something about the smell of that café got to me. Something I ate must have bothered my stomach. I’m so embarrassed you had to see that. Hopefully, not many others did.” I mean it too. That is damn right humiliating.

  She shrugs. “Eh, it’s New York City. I don’t think you’re the first one to puke in the streets today, and you certainly won’t be the last.” She gives me a reassuring smile that vanishes quickly, replacing it with a questioning look. “Wait, did you say the smell bothered you?” Her eyes crinkle at the sides, and she looks thoughtful.

  “Oddly, it did. I’d better go stock up on ginger ale and crackers. Have a good day.” I begin to turn and walk away when her voice stops me in my tracks.

  “So, this is probably a huge overstep and super awkward … but is it possible you’re, um … pregnant?”

  I laugh hard. “No, that’s not …”

  Before I can finish my sentence, I think back to Mason and me a month ago. I was on the pill but had been kind of flaky with it that past month. Forgetting it every now and then. He had pulled out but … maybe not every time? I can’t remember. I was so engulfed in the heat of the moment between us. I really didn’t pay attention. Which is so stupid and irresponsible of me.

  The kind stranger’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. “Well, best of luck. Don’t look so scared. It’s not all bad.” She winks, and then she slowly turns and walks away.

  Shit. There’s no way I could be pregnant. Is there? Gosh, I hope not. I’m not ready for that. Oh, and the kid’s dad doesn’t speak to me. So, there’s that.

  Taking a deep breath, I urge my feet to carry me to the drugstore. They do. Which scares the crap out of me because I don’t know if I’m ready to know if my life will be forever changed yet.

  Mason

  “Good job, King. Keep it up. This time, Allen, run red 85,” Coach yells from the sidelines.

  The quarterback, Jacob Allen sets us up and makes the call. He steps back, throwing the ball to Camden Lebec, the running back, who pretends like he’s going to run it down the field but instead launches it to me. I roll to the left and back to the right and take off down the field. All but burning a fire trail behind me.

  “Touchdown!” yells our offensive coach. “Good play, boys. That’s how it needs to be done.”

  So far, I fit in well. It took a few practices to get used to playing with Andrew and not Trent. We’d played for four years side by side, so this was a big change. But I respect Allen. He’s a hell of a quarterback, and I feel honored to work alongside him.

  I check in with my mom a few times a week. If I didn’t, she’d probably show up here and ream me a new asshole. I haven’t had to endure any awkward conversations with my dad. He’s sent me a few texts, asking how I’m doing, but that’s been the extent of it. Which is A-OK with me.

  I wonder how Red is doing these days. I think her plan was to move back to Maine. I hope she didn’t take Maverick back. He doesn’t deserve her. She deserves a guy who would give her the world. I unfortunately don’t get to be that guy. But I still think of her every day. And her delectable body and sexy yet beautiful face.

  Fuck. Will I ever escape her memory?

  I still feel like a complete dick for the asshole move I pulled, shutting her out. But I stand by my decision that it was for the best for her and her family’s relationship. I truly did and still do care about her and did what I thought was the right call. Even if it means I’m fucking miserable, thinking about her every single day.

  twenty-eight

  Anna

  I stare down at the sixth Clearblue test, all of which have read positive. Six of the fuckers. All. Positive. Six tests, all with the word Pregnant staring at me on a screen. Making me want to break all of them.

  Positive. As in positively pregnant. Bun in the oven. Knocked up. With a child. That type of positive.

  Well, fuck a duck. How could I have been so careless? Now, I’m going to be a damn mother. Who can I even call? I know I could call Cameran. But then she’d worry more about me. So, I make a choice that, for a little while, I need to keep her in the dark. She’d likely quit her job and move to New York and help me raise this little bean growing inside of me. And I don’t want her to do that. That’s why she cannot find out. Not yet anyway.

  The air is getting thicker and thicker, and I am having a hard time catching my breath.
A baby? In my stomach or uterus or whatever the hell it’s called. Realization hits me that I am alone. In New York City. Extremely single. In fact, the baby daddy won’t even return my calls or texts.

  That puts my anger toward Mason at an all-time high again. I know that this baby is just as much his as it is mine. I know, sometime in the next week or so, I will need to call him. It’s likely he won’t answer. But I’ll leave a voice mail and give him one chance—and one chance only—to be in on this decision.

  If I had any sliver of hope that my mom and dad were going to want a relationship with me, that’s now evaporated into thin air. Thank God my grandmother left me some money in only my name. Otherwise, I’d have to go home like a dog with its tail between its legs and beg my parents to let me move back home.

  Pulling out my phone, I Google local OB offices. After reading some reviews, I choose one that is staffed with five midwives and two OB physicians.

  When I dial the number, my heart beats so loud that I can basically hear it inside my own head. My mouth feels suddenly dry.

  “Good afternoon. Women’s Health of New York. How may I assist you today?” a kind woman’s voice answers.

  “Hi. My name is Anna Eubanks. I, well, I think I’m pregnant.”

  “All right, dear. Do you think or know?”

  “Well, uh, with the six positive pregnancy tests, I think—I mean, I know. Right?”

  “Yes, ma’am. When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

  “I honestly have no idea. Sometime toward the end of April.”

  “Okay. The midwives will want you scheduled for an ultrasound to see how far along you are. I have an appointment for one week from tomorrow, July 1, at three thirty with a midwife and an ultrasound to follow at four. Will that work?”