Love, Ally: A Second Chance Romance (Brooks University Book 1) Read online

  Clearing my throat, I lean forward. “I am one hundred percent confident that I can do it, Coach. And not to sound cocky, but I’ll do a damn good job.” My eyebrows pull together. “But what about Ricky?”

  Ricky is QB1 right now. He’s a senior, and he was just promoted to the position last year. I know I’m a better quarterback, but one problem is, he possesses the leadership over the team. Most of these guys have played with him since their freshman year. Their allegiance lies with him. Not me.

  Messing with the visor of his hat, he leans back in his chair, looking discouraged. “This will be Ricky’s fourth season with me. Boy’s like family now. But this season, we’re going after that championship. And you, boy, well, you’re the one who will take us there. I know it.”

  So far, I like Ricky. He’s been good to me. But I’m only in college long enough until I’m eligible to enter the draft. So, I’m not really here to make friends. It’s a cutthroat sport, and seeing as my team is called the Wolves, I might as well act like one.

  “You can count on me, Coach,” I promise him. “I’ll take this team as far as I can.”

  The corner of his lips turns up in the smallest smile. “I believe you. I’ve watched you since you were a freshman in high school. You have the ability to read other players. That’s as good as a damn superpower on that field.”

  “Thanks, sir,” I answer, averting my eyes from his.

  Reading people is something you pick up when you constantly have to watch your back, growing up. People come into your life, and many might have ill intent. The type of lowlifes my father brought into our home when I was just a boy is a prime example of that. Some of them would be his best friends when he had drugs. But once the drugs got low, greed reared its ugly head.

  “Well then, all right,” he says. “Now, get the hell out of here and get some rest. We’ve got double practice tomorrow. First one is at five a.m.”

  “Yes, sir,” I answer, heading toward the door.

  Double practice. Fuck my life.

  “Yo, what did Coach need you for?” Knox asks, head half stuck in the fridge.

  I swear, we can’t keep shit here to eat with him around.

  When I set my duffel bag down, Weston walks out of his room.

  “What, did you get kicked off the team? They find out you actually have a vagina, so you aren’t eligible to play now?” Weston says, cracking himself up.

  We might be in a dorm. But compared to the typical shitty dorms here, this one is a lot nicer. We each have our own small bedroom, and in the middle is the living room/kitchen area. So, even though three big dudes in a dorm sounds awful, it’s actually not too bad.

  That’s not to say we wouldn’t all rather rent a house off-campus. But Brooks University has this rule: every student, even athletes, must stay in a dorm their freshman year.

  “He, uh … he wants me to be starting quarterback,” I answer, ignoring Weston’s smart-ass remark. “And team captain.”

  Pulling his head out of the fridge, Knox jerks his chin up. “You fuckin’ serious?” He grins. “Not that I’m surprised. Seeing as every D1 college wanted you.” Suddenly, he frowns. “Even though I’d probably make a better team captain.” He waves his hands around. “But it’s all good.”

  I can tell he’s just kidding around. I don’t think Knox would want the responsibility of team captain. Weston, on the other hand, could probably handle it. He takes this shit as seriously as I do.

  Knox is a funny dude. But he’s more prone to fucking off than we are. And Weston … well, I haven’t figured him out yet. We have a good time together, the three of us. But Weston sometimes takes off for a few hours, and he never tells us where he goes. It’s fucking weird. Then again, I’m sure I do shit that they find weird too.

  Like this letter I carry around everywhere I go.

  “Well, Storm, that there is badass.” Weston grins.

  I look between them and shake my head. “I came here for this position. But, shit, guys, it sucks for Ricky. It’s his senior year. I’m not trying to come in and take his spot, you know? But I guess it’s just how it is.”

  This sport is all I’ve ever had in life. I’ve never had family—well, besides her, but she left. Football has had me in the lowest parts of my life.

  I was offered a full scholarship to a lot of other colleges, one being my longtime dream school in Texas. But ultimately, after doing some soul-searching and really thinking about it, I decided I wanted to come to Georgia and attend Brooks University and be a Wolf. They have one of the best football programs in the country, and they’ve had tons of players go into the NFL. That’s the goal, the dream, the fact. I will play in the NFL. And the world will know my fucking name. And I’ll make it there because I worked hard. Not because I was handed it on a silver platter, like so many of the guys I’ve played with.

  And when I do make it there, I’ll thank nobody besides the coaches I’ve had. Because they are the only ones besides myself who have helped me get to where I want to be. On the other hand, I also know all of the people who left me are reasons why I’ve always been so motivated. I want more than what I’ve always known.

  “Bro, I get it.” Taking a bite of a sandwich he concocted, Knox smirks and shakes his head. “But Ricky is going to fucking hate you.”

  “True that,” Weston mumbles.

  I shrug. “Ricky isn’t handing out tickets to the NFL, is he?” I narrow my eyes at them. “No, I didn’t think so. So, if he’s mad, well then, fuck him.”

  Inside, I do feel like a dick for taking his spot. I hope he understands. Then again, when he was a freshman, if he’d been offered the starting quarterback position, would he have said, Well, let me ask around with my friends, make sure they don’t mind? Fuck no, he wouldn’t have. He would have taken it in a heartbeat. Anyone in their right mind would.

  Ricky isn’t going to the NFL. I’m not being a prick; it’s just the truth. You either have it or you don’t, and Ricky doesn’t have it. He’s good—no doubt about that. But the natural ability isn’t there.

  “Geesh. Don’t get your tampon twisted in wrong, fucker. I wasn’t saying you shouldn’t take it; I was just stating the obvious—that Ricky, along with his pals, will be pissed.” Finishing his sandwich, he wipes his hands off.

  The three of us met a few months ago when we moved in early for football training. Most other students have only just started filtering in this past week. But athletes get special privileges to move in early. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of my adoptive family’s house, so I jumped all over that shit.

  Weston punches my arm lightly. “I was just busting your balls, man.” He looks down and shrugs. “I get it. I understand why you’re worried about it. But fuck it, man. Nobody is going to get you playing pro ball besides you. Like you said, Ricky isn’t punching your ticket to the NFL.” He laughs. “If I had the chance to take your spot as team captain, you bet your sweet ass I’d steal it.” He widens his eyes. “You’re my boy. But football is football.”

  “Fuck off. You’re just lucky that the Wolves’ tight end graduated last year. You can play your position without feeling like a fucking snake.” I nod my chin at him and then at Knox. “Same with you, dick.”

  “Whatevs,” Knox says. “Now that you’re team captain, you’ll basically be able to get any chick you want in your bed.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Probably still not as many as me though. Because I’m the real MVP.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, brother.” Weston shakes his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  Knox has already been named starting receiver, and Weston is starting tight end. Both are crazy talented. I have no doubt the pair of them could make it to the NFL too. Though I’m not sure Knox’s family approves on that for his future. Me? I need that for my future. I need to know I’ll never be hungry for days again. I need to prove to myself that I am enough. And that I am talented. It sounds dumb—I know it does—but I just want to feel like I’m worth something. />
  Making my way into my room, I collapse on my bed. And just like they always do whenever I stop moving for five seconds, in come the memories of her. Memories I can’t outrun.

  I can’t help but wonder where she is or who she’s with. And then, just like always, my mind travels back to the times when she was around. To a time when I had someone who looked at me like I’d hung the moon.

  Her blue eyes glimmered as she smiled, biting her lip nervously. “Tell me honestly, what did you think?”

  “I think you have the most beautiful voice,” I told her truthfully before pulling her onto my lap. “And I hope to fuck you don’t forget me when you’re the next Taylor Swift, out touring the country and dropping number one hits.”

  “I feel like I’m more of a Halsey,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

  “No … you aren’t.”

  She looked embarrassed before finally shrugging. “I know that, dick. I was kidding.”

  “You aren’t Halsey, baby. You’re Ally Lee James. So much better.”

  Sighing, she laid her head against my shoulder, peeking up. “Do you really think I’m good? I mean, if I wasn’t, it isn’t like you’d be like, Ally, you suck dick. Stop singing.”

  I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. “Well, you actually do that well too.”

  “Storm! I’m being serious!” she hollered before smacking me on the chest.

  “I mean it, Ally. You’re good. In fact, there’s no other sound I want to listen to.” I thought about it for a second before winking. “Well, unless it’s you screaming my name.”

  In usual Ally form, she rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

  Standing and lifting her with me, I walked us toward the pond. “No doubt. But I’m your idiot.”

  “Don’t you dare do it!” she shrieked as we got closer to the water.

  “Sorry. I’m awfully hot. I think I need a little swim to cool me off.”

  She flailed around as I walked us in slowly before finally going under.

  “You peckerhead!” she yelled but laughed when we came back up. “I’m going to get you back for this!”

  “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  As I held her, as always, it became unbearable to not need more. Especially as her soaking wet white tank top clung to her skin and her wet hair fell down her back.

  “Pain in my ass as you might be, I’m still going to miss you while you’re at football camp for two weeks,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder.

  I could tell that she was dreading the day that I had to leave.

  So was I. I’d been sick to my fucking stomach about leaving her. I hated the thought of her being alone in that house. With those people.

  “Me too, baby. I don’t have to go. I feel like I should ditch.” I smiled. “I’d rather stay here and force you to go swimming with me every day anyway.”

  Her breasts pressed against my chest, stirring something inside of me awake. Making me want more.

  She gave me a small nod. “I know. But I want you to go. This could help you so much. It could get you noticed by college scouts.”

  “I don’t need any help. I’m already fucking great,” I joked.

  “Hmm … I’m not so sure about that.”

  Lifting her up, I raised an eyebrow. “I think somebody wants to be thrown.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I would. Unless … you take that back.”

  She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side. “Never,” she whispered.

  “Okay then.” I shrugged. “You leave me no choice.”

  I started to bring her down like I was going to throw her, but instead, I threw her up and caught her, her legs landing perfectly around my waist again.

  “You jerk! I really thought you were going to throw me.”

  “I thought about it,” I told her honestly. “But I was afraid you’d cut my nuts off.”

  “No.” She widened her eyes. “Just your dick.”

  Laughing, I reached over and tuck her long, dark hair back behind her ear. She watched me, her chest rising and falling. I could feel myself growing hard as her legs tightened around my waist.

  “Storm,” she said softly, “I love you.”

  The way her eyes were looking into mine, I knew what she wanted—no, what she needed. I had to leave in the morning for camp, so I didn’t want to waste another minute, not giving her exactly that.

  “I love you,” I told her before my mouth devoured hers. Swallowing up her soft, sexy moans.

  Needing more, I walked us out of the water and laid her down on the grass. Pulling her shorts off, I leaned over her, kissing her again as my fingers sank inside of her, making her cry out.

  Snaking her hand around, she pulled my zipper down. Reaching inside, she took my painfully hard length into her hand.

  In reality, we were just two kids who had nothing and nobody besides each other.

  But in that moment, we were two kids who finally knew what it was like to love someone so damn much that it almost made you crazy. We loved each other fiercely, teetering on the edge of insanity.

  I despised the thought of being without her for two weeks. Actually, the thought made me sick. So, the rest of that afternoon, I planned to spend it as close to her as I could. Fucking her in any and every way possible.

  “I need you,” she whispered.

  “Right now?” I rasped before burying myself deep inside of her before she could respond.

  She cried out, her nails digging into my back but never in the spot where I didn’t like to be touched.

  Hooking her legs around my waist, she brought our bodies closer. Gazing up at me, her blue eyes were filled with so much love. And I knew it was all for me. Every last ounce of it.

  Finally, someone looked at me that way. And it was the only person who mattered in this whole fucked up world. Ally.

  This, right here, was my favorite place to be. With her and nobody else.

  And I knew in that moment, if this was all I ever had the rest of my life, if I never made it into the NFL, if I never had more than a few dollars to rub together, I’d still be a happy motherfucker for the simple fact that I got to love this girl as fiercely as I could. And that she loved me as furiously as she could.

  It was a damn good feeling.

  Coming back to reality, I have the urge to go for a run. Even fresh from practice, I can’t stand to sit still. I know I won’t outrun the memory of her, but I can sure as hell try.

  The thing is, I’m not just running from her; I’m running from everything. I’m not ready to feel anything. My whole life, I’ve done my best to keep my mind so busy that it doesn’t have a second to feel anything from the past.

  Until her, I didn’t allow myself to feel anything. And when I let her in, when I looked into her eyes, I finally felt something. I finally felt home.

  This hollow feeling in my body sometimes feels like it might be the death of me. She filled all of the empty places in my soul and made me finally feel like I was a whole human and not just an empty shell who was just existing. Now, she’s gone, and all I feel is empty. Empty and bitter. Football helps numb the ache slightly, but even that can’t take it all away.

  I know that despite her leaving, she loved me too. I think I was the only person in the world she had ever let inside of her heart. The only one who ever knew the real her.

  I would have kept her safe. I would have continued to make her laugh. And I never would have left her. Ever. Still, she left me without saying a word. Like I was nobody and meant nothing. Just like everyone else.

  three

  Ally

  Walking toward my dorm with my earbuds in, I can’t help feeling like I’m wandering. Wandering through this campus, wandering through the days, wandering through my life.

  As “The Freshmen” by The Verve Pipe filters out of the tiny speakers and into my ears, images of Cole Storms flash into my brain, and they don’t stop. Creating the most heartbreakin
g yet beautiful slide show in my mind.

  That grin with the single dimple in his left cheek that always made it so damn hard for me to stay mad at him for long. Those eyes that were forever changing between blue and green, depending on the weather … or his mood.

  I was never that girl who wanted to bask in the misery of painful memories. In fact, I would have made fun of other girls a few years back for doing this type of shit. In my own head, of course, not out loud. Yet here I am, throwing myself into this deep pit of despair, rolling around in it like it’s a fucking field of flowers.

  It’s pathetic—I know that it is. But torturing myself with the memories of what I’m missing is the only way that I feel close to him. The only way I feel close to anybody.

  I long for his touch, and I yearn for his kiss. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can almost feel him here with me. But when I open them up, I’m brought back to the harsh reality that I’ll likely never see him again.

  I just want my heart to feel something, anything, besides the aching feeling that it does. And he’s the only one who can do that. He’s the only one who can make me whole again.

  But I will admit, now that I’m at Brooks University, I do see a glimmer of hope. It’s small, but it’s there.

  The second week of classes is nearly over. And aside from my schoolwork, I’ve also started a job. It’s at a restaurant right off campus, called Lenny’s. So far, I’m enjoying it. It’s usually just me and one other waitress, Carla. I absolutely love her. She’s a mom of three teenage boys, and she enjoys smoking cigarettes, coffee, and cussing. I feel like we’re a friendship made in heaven.

  A part of me feels like she’s the mother I wish I’d had. She’s far from perfect, but she loves her boys more than life. I pray that, one day, they understand how lucky they are to be loved like that. To be loved in such an unconditional, selfless way. What a gift that would be.