For the Win (Playing for Keeps Book 1) (7 page)

London

Annabelle returned on Thursday, just in time to help us read through the newspaper one last time before Mr. Smith submitted it to the printers. John was our editor, so technically he ran the Gold Rush Gazette, but he was a student like the rest of us. Therefore, Mr. Smith was the ultimate authority. He oversaw the paper and made sure what we printed was appropriate. Basically, it was his head on the chopping block if we wrote something we shouldn’t.

Annabelle and I had never been friends, and it was pretty evident that we never would be. She acted like I stole her article right from under her. As if that had been my plan all along. No matter how hard I tried to convince her otherwise, she remained pissed off.

And I wasn’t in the mood. It was late, and I was tired. All I wanted to do was go home and curl up with a good book. Instead, I was sitting in a plastic chair in the middle of a cramped classroom staring at a tiny computer screen. Editing was my least favorite part of the writing process, and Annabelle was making it even worse.

When I wouldn’t engage with Annabelle, she finally unleashed on John. “You couldn’t have pushed back Cooper’s article another week?”

John ran an agitated hand over his sandy brown hair. “C’mon, Annabelle. You know our next issue doesn’t come out for six more weeks. By that time the fall baseball season would be almost over. The article needed to come out at the beginning of the season, not the end.” He snorted. “If we did that we might as well wait until the spring season to write the article.”

Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest. He was right, and she knew it. I bit back a smug smile as she pressed her lips together, unable to come up with an argument. She’d already tried to bring Mr. Smith into it, but he deferred to John, so there wasn’t anything else for Annabelle to do. Leaning back in my chair, I bit the cap of my pen and read over the article on the screen. The scent of sweat, pencil shavings and whiteboard markers filled my senses.

Realizing she had no other recourse, Annabelle finally flung herself into a nearby chair with a resigned sigh. The remainder of the staff worked on their respective assignments, and an hour later all the articles had been read, edited, and approved. Standing up, I stretched my arms up high above my head. A yawn escaped through my lips, and I rolled my kinked neck.

Pulling out my phone, I shot off a text to my dad to see when he could pick me up. I had ridden to school with Skyler again, but I didn’t want to bother her to come back and pick me up. Man, I would be happy when my ankle was completely healed. It was feeling a little better today. I was able to put pressure on it and walk with more stability, so I was sure it would be better soon. By the time the response from Dad came the rest of the staff had left and it was only John, me, and Mr. Smith.

Dad: Sorry, pumpkin. Still working. Will be there in 1 hr.

I blew out a frustrated breath and shoved my phone into my pocket.

“Need a ride home?” John asked.

Sometimes John was annoying, but most of the time he was a nice enough guy. And we’d worked together on the paper for two years now. Still the idea of him driving me home made my skin crawl. The familiar prickle of fear tingled up my spine. “No, it’s okay.” After snatching my backpack off the floor, I slung it over my shoulder.

“You sure?” He pressed.

I nodded. “Yeah, my dad’s coming to get me.”

“All right.” John turned off the computer nearest to him, and then picked up his book bag.

“See you later, John,” I called as I stepped out of the classroom. “Bye Mr. Smith.”

“See ya,” John responded. Mr. Smith waved from his desk, the light glinting off his glasses.

It was darker than I thought it would be when I walked outside, and I shivered. I stared out at the street, wondering what I would do to kill time until Dad arrived. My homework called from my backpack, and I scoured the area looking for a place with some light where I could sit down. A few feet away was a bench with a streetlamp above it. As I made my way over to it, movement and noise caught my attention. My head bobbed up, my eyes landing on the baseball field. It was lit up, the team out on the field. From where I stood, I spotted Cooper on the mound.

Abandoning thoughts of studying, I moved toward the field. It was a long trek across the grass, and I was grateful that my ankle was healing. Last time I’d been out here was for Cooper’s game. I’d never been here during nighttime. It seemed almost magical with the bright lights shining over the green grass and yellow sand of the field. By the time I reached it, the team was dispersing. Some were grabbing their bags, while others were already heading out to the parking lot.

My gaze swept the field and dugout searching for Cooper, but he was nowhere in sight. I was about ready to turn around when I heard his voice. It was coming from somewhere behind the bleachers. I crept forward, running my fingers along the cold metal until I finally reached the other side. Cooper’s back was to me when I approached.

“Damn it.” He threw his glove on the ground and it landed with a thud in the thick green reeds. He tore off his ball cap, causing his hair to stick up in spikes all over his head. The muscles on his arm bulged as he fisted the hat in his hands, squeezing as if it was a stress ball.

Feeling like I was infringing on a private moment, I turned around. Only I misjudged how close the bleachers were to me, and rammed my knee into the corner.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath.

“London?”

Double shit.

Rubbing my knee through my jeans, I whirled around.

“What are you doing here?”

Not exactly a warm welcome, but then again what did I expect when I snuck up on him like this. “Um…I…I’m sorry. I um…was working on the paper, and now I needed to kill time until Dad comes to get me.”

“Kill time, huh?” One side of his mouth curved upward. “So what you’re telling me is that you planned to use me?”

I giggled, grateful for the shift in his mood. “Yes, I guess I did.”

“I suppose I should respect your honesty. Most people won’t admit to that right off the bat.”

“I’m not most people,” I said, surprised by my own boldness. Something about Cooper made me more confident. It was weird.

“No, you’re not.” He glanced down at my foot. “Your ankle seems to be getting better.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s healing nicely.”

For a moment he studied me, then his expression grew somber. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. How much of my tantrum did you see?”

“Not much,” I said. “What happened?”

“Just had a really shitty practice.” He dropped his hat on the ground near his feet and ran a hand through his hair. A few of the unruly strands smoothed back out.

I shrugged. “At least it was only a practice.”

“I wish that was the case, but I played so poorly in our game last night the coach had to pull me in the second inning.” His jaw tensed, his hands fisting at his sides. “I can’t afford to screw up like this. Not now. Not this year.”

The desperation in his voice cut to my heart. I paused, choosing my words carefully. “I totally get why you’re so upset. But when I saw you play, you were incredible. One game can’t take that away. And I’m sure you’ll get it together in time for Monday’s game.”

His eyes narrowed, his head cocking to the side. My stomach dropped, worried that I’d said the wrong thing. “You know our schedule?”

I mentally chastised myself. God, I probably sounded like a damn stalker to him. “Yeah, I memorized it as part of my research for the article.” My face heated up. “I know it sounds silly, but I get really into my articles. I get that it’s a stupid school newspaper to everyone else, but it means something to me.” Why, oh why was I still rambling? I was sure he didn’t care about any of this. In fact, I was fairly certain it made me sound even more idiotic.

“I get it.” He nodded. “I sometimes feel like that with baseball. To most of the guys on the team, baseball is a hobby. After high school they might play recreationally, or maybe they’ll stop playing altogether. But with me, it’s different. I plan to play professionally, and I know I’ll never be able to quit.”

His words pierced my heart, snaking their way inside and squeezing hard. He
did
understand. He was the first person who ever had. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“London.” Cooper stepped toward me, causing my pulse to quicken. His eyes seared into mine, and I swallowed hard.

“Cooper?”

I flinched at the sound of Calista’s voice. She stepped around the bleachers, Cooper’s hat perched on top of her blond curls. Her presence reminded me what a fool I was being. I never should have come over here. It would have been smarter to stay in front of the school, studying. What had I been thinking? That was the problem. I didn’t think when it came to Cooper. His dimpled smile and blue eyes had cast a spell on me, and I seemed to lose my brain around him.

“What’s she doing here?” Calista glared at me. “I thought you two were done with the article.”

I opened my mouth to explain, but Cooper spoke before I could. “It’s none of your business what we’re doing, Calista.”

She reeled back from his words. “W-what?”

“You and I fooled around one time, and that was it,” he said coldly. “You’re not my girlfriend, and I don’t owe you any explanations.”

Calista’s face fell. A part of me felt a sick sense of satisfaction by it, but the other part felt badly for her. Clearly what happened between them meant something to her, and she’d misinterpreted his feelings. But I didn’t feel like it was her fault. I felt like it was his. And I realized that what happened to Calista could easily have happened to me. Hadn’t I, too, been sucked in by Cooper’s charm? Maybe this was his game, to draw you in and spit you out.

“Fine. You can have your damn hat back then.” Calista yanked the hat off her head and threw it at him. Then she spun around and stalked off, her hair frizzy and piled high on her head.

“Sorry about that,” Cooper said when she was out of earshot.

“So am I,” I took a step backward. “See ya around, Cooper.”

“Wait.” He stopped me. “Are you upset with me?”

“Boy, you sure are perceptive.” I let out a bitter laugh.

His gaze slid over my shoulder, then back to my face. His eyebrows knit together in a pensive expression. “Let me get this straight. You’re mad because of how I treated Calista?”

I nodded.

“But I’ve seen the way she treats you. It’s horrible.”

“True, but that still doesn’t justify what you did. You used her, and you should be ashamed of yourself.” With a shake of my head, I pivoted on my heels and made my way across the field. I didn’t bother looking back as I headed toward the front of the school. When I reached it, I wondered why I hadn’t stayed here to begin with. Before Calista had walked up the connection to Cooper was so thick I could feel it, and it reminded me of when he was at my house. I didn’t normally feel that way with people, and a part of me wanted desperately to hold on to it. But I couldn’t ignore what he’d done to Calista. He may have seemed like a nice guy, but he was a charmer and a player. He hooked up with girls and dumped them like they were trash. And I couldn’t let him treat me like that. I wouldn’t be another girl to add to his list.

In the short time I’d known Cooper, one thing had become painfully clear. If I fell for him, he’d break my heart, and I’d be powerless to stop it.

Cooper

It had been a shitty week. Baseball sucked, and girls confused the hell out of me. That’s how I found myself at a party on Friday night with Nate. He didn’t even have to beg me this time. I was game the second he sent the text. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, especially since it was at Calista’s house. The parties often were at her house, because her parents were out of town so frequently and she had two college-aged brothers who could buy booze.

Calista didn’t worry me. I was sure she’d moved on by now. She wasn’t one to sit around and lick her wounds. Lick some other guy’s face was more like it.

All I wanted was one night where I didn’t have to overthink everything, where I didn’t have to worry. For some reason I couldn’t get London out of my thoughts. The look she gave me when she stormed off was permanently etched in my mind like a goddamn tattoo. She was impossible to decipher. I had helped her when she fell off her bike, practically nursed her ankle back to health, walked her to class and carried her backpack, even at the risk of ridicule. Then, to top it all off, I stuck up for her with Calista. And yet, she acted like I was the bad guy. Like I was the jerk. Maybe she should look in a freaking mirror.

Normally when I went to parties I was the DD since I didn’t like to drink anyway. I hated not having complete control. But this week I wanted to lose control, to be numb. So Troy, our second baseman, drove us. No way would Nate offer to be DD. He had absolutely no self-control around alcohol. He was like a goddamn kid in a candy store when we were surrounded by booze. That was another reason I generally didn’t like to party with him.

“You have to keep me away from the girls,” I told Nate on the way to the party. We sat in the backseat, Troy and Brandon were up front.

“No way. I don’t want that responsibility. Now that you’re not tied to Calista, girls will be all over you,” Nate said.

I bristled at his statement. “I was never tied to Calista.”

“That’s not what she told people.”

“Damn it.” I ground my teeth. “This is exactly why I need to stay away from girls. I’m done with chicks, man.”

“Dude, you better not be turning gay, because I’m so not into that shit.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type.”

Nate smiled. “Are you shitting me? I’m everyone’s type.”

“You wish.” I glanced out the window as Troy turned the corner. We were on Calista’s street, nearing her house. Cars lined the curb.
Subtle
. “I’m sure no one knows Calista’s having a party,” I said sarcastically, my stomach tightening. All it would take was one neighbor calling the cops for my life to unravel. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Don’t sweat it.” Nate clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Famous last words.
Still, I had no choice at this point, so when Troy cut the engine, I hopped out of the car. Cool air circled me, the scent of damp earth and grass wafting under my nose. The sound of music and chatter rose from the house and swelled around us. Nervous, I glanced at the quiet suburban street, at the row of two-story houses, yellow light shining from the windows. Troy and Brandon were already heading inside when Nate and I started walking up the stairs to the front porch.

There were even more people here than last time. Calista sure knew how to draw a crowd, I’d give her that. I noticed a few college-aged guys scattered around. One of them I recognized as Calista’s brother, Rhett, and my chest tightened, wondering what she’d told him about me. But when he smiled and threw me a wave, my shoulders relaxed.

“Beers are in the kitchen.” Brandon hopped in front of us, already holding a bottle in his hand.

“Thanks, man.” Nate slapped him on the back before making a beeline for the kitchen. A few guys were pulling beers out of a cooler sitting on the tile floor. Nate grabbed two out, reached for the bottle opener on the counter and popped off the caps. Then he handed me one.

When I folded my hand around the glass bottle it was cold, and liquid coated my palm. Leaning my back against the wall, I scoured the room. Girls holding red plastic cups stood around in clusters chatting and laughing. One of them peered over in my direction and smiled. Without thinking, I grinned back.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Nate tugged on my arm.

Remembering our earlier conversation, I chuckled and allowed him to pull me into the living room. Not that it was much help. There were hot girls sprinkled all around this room too. A tanned blond caught my eye, throwing me a wink.

“Shit, man, we haven’t even been here two minutes and already you’ve got them honing in on you. It’s like you’re wearing a goddamn target or something.” Zach’s eyes widened. “Or a tracking device. They can sense you coming.”

I took a sip of my beer. The bitter taste slid over my tongue and down my throat. “You’re crazy.”

A brunette wearing a shirt that barely covered her chest and shorts that stopped just under her ass swaggered over to us. But this time it wasn’t me she had her sights set on.

“Hey,” she said, her eyes locking with Nate. “I’ve seen you around. Nate, right?”

“That’s me. And what’s your name, beautiful?”

She giggled, twirling her hair around her index finger. “Heather.”

“Nice.” Nate nodded in appreciation, his gaze roving over Heather’s body. Then he leaned over and whispered, “Sorry, bro. You’re on your own.”

I shoved him away, knowing this was inevitable. “Go. Have fun.” As if he really needed my permission. He barely even waited for me to finish my sentence before he was heading off with Heather. Taking another sip of my beer, I walked further into the living room searching for Brandon or Troy. My feet tapped on the hardwood floor and I passed large framed paintings hanging on the wall. I noticed a few other guys from the team were seated on a leather couch in front of a large window sipping beers and talking. One of them looked up in my direction.

“Hey, Coop.” He nodded.

“Hey, man,” I responded and stepped forward, intending to walk over to him.

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in.” Calista’s voice stopped me.

I turned around wearing a smile. “No cat. It was Nate who invited me.”

By the hard expression on her face, I was guessing my little joke didn’t work on her. Instead, she pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did you bring
her
with you?”

“Who?”

“That loser you can’t seem to stay away from.”

I cringed at the word “loser.” Gritting my teeth, I said, “Her name’s London.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged.

“And no, she’s not with me.” Lifting the beer to my lips, I took a long swallow. In a minute I planned to search for something stronger. I wondered what was in the red cups. The blond that had been eyeing me earlier sauntered over, her lips stretching into a broad smile.

“Hey, baby,” I drawled, more for Calista’s benefit than anything. Perhaps now she’d leave me the hell alone.

“Oh, don’t bother with him,” Calista said. “You’re not his type. He likes girls who wear glasses and thrift store clothes, and walk around with their nose stuck in a book.” A confused look passed over the blond’s delicate features.

“Ignore her,” I said to the blond.

Calista glared at me. “Actually, it’s a good thing you didn’t bring nerdgirl here. She’d probably have no idea how to behave in a neighborhood like ours. It’s a little too rich for her blood, I think.”

London’s words floated through my mind.
You used her, and you should be ashamed.
Calista had done nothing but treat London like shit, and yet London still defended her. She believed that Calista deserved respect. But she was wrong. Calista didn’t deserve it at all. London may have walked around like she was an ice queen, but inside her heart was warm and kind. The same couldn’t be said of Calista.

“I think you’ve just proved that having money doesn’t make you classy,” I said to Calista.

In response, she swallowed hard, her chest heaving with each labored breath.

Taking a sip of my beer, I turned to the blond girl. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just jealous, and she has absolutely no clue what the hell she’s talking about. Wanna go somewhere more private?” Snaking my arm around the girl’s waist, I guided her into the adjoining room. She leaned into me, her hair sliding over my shoulder. It smelled like peaches. When we found an empty corner, I rested my back against the wall and grinned at the blond. Warning bells went off in my mind, remembering my plea to Nate about keeping me away from girls. The last thing I needed right now was another cling-on like Calista, or a puzzle I couldn’t figure out like London.

Pushing both of them from my mind, I winked at the pretty blond wearing an impossibly short jean skirt and skintight top that left nothing to the imagination. “So, what’s your name?”

“Emma,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, Emma. I’m--”

“I know who you are, Cooper Montgomery,” she interrupted.

“So, you’re a baseball fan?”

She reached out her hands, splaying them on my chest. Her fingers danced over my muscles. “I’m a fan of yours. Does that count?”

“Yeah. That definitely counts.” After taking the last swig of my beer, I set it down on a nearby table and took the blond girl in my arms. Maybe I didn’t need to get drunk tonight. Perhaps I could lose myself in Emma. And that would be it. I would make it clear that we were nothing more than a one-night thing. No giving her my hat, or number, or anything. After my internal pep-talk, I lowered my head, capturing her lips in mine. Her lip gloss tasted like cherries, and my heart picked up speed. Raking my hands up her back, I tangled my fingers in her long hair, pulling gently. A tiny sound of pleasure emitted from the back of Emma’s throat.
Oh, yeah, she would be too easy.
I slid my tongue into her mouth, swirling it inside. She reached under my shirt, and her hands felt good against my bare skin. She was eager, her lips moving swiftly, her hands exploring my chest. Maybe too eager. And it made me feel like shit.

I’d made out with tons of girls, hooked up with a lot of them too. And I never felt guilty. I figured they wanted it as much as I did. But now I wasn’t so sure. Was a one-night thing really enough for them? It hadn’t been for Calista. She’d wanted more, and when I couldn’t give it to her, she’d turned into a royal pain in my ass.

When I drew back, Emma’s eyes were half-lidded. She had that satisfied yet hungry look on her face. Lip gloss smeared her cheek, and her hair was messy. She slid her hands up to my shoulders and tugged me close, pressing her chest to mine. Biting her lip, she leaned into me, her face nearing mine again. An image of London standing in front of me chewing on her lower lip crashed into me with such force, I pulled away from Emma. She raised one eyebrow, a silent question.

I hooked up with girls all the time and never called them again, but in my mind there wasn’t anything wrong with that. All the guys did it. But now I couldn’t get London’s words out of my head. Was she right? Was I hurting these girls?

God, I hated that her words had gotten to me like this. Why did I even care what she thought?

When Emma’s lips covered mine again, I responded, my mouth moving in sync with hers. Why was I even thinking about London right now? I had an incredibly hot girl practically begging for it.
What the hell was wrong with me?

Calista’s voice reached my ears from across the room. I peeked out of one eye and saw her talking to a friend. But then she glanced in my direction. I saw the hurt in her eyes the second before she averted her gaze. Damn, I had treated her pretty shitty. She always wore this hard exterior, but she was a person underneath it all.

I’d never been outright mean to a girl like that. What had made me do it?

The words “loser” and “nerdgirl” floated through my mind. It was because she’d put down London. The anger I felt toward her wasn’t about me, it was about London. Detaching my lips from Emma’s, I took a deep breath, the revelation making me dizzy.

What was it about London that brought out this hero side of me? And more importantly, why the hell couldn’t I get her off my mind?