Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel Read online

  I was falling for her, and there was nothing I could do about it—nothing I wanted to do about it. Was I terrified? Sure. But it felt like the one and only time Weston had dragged me skydiving. There was no point letting the fear in once I was out of the plane. All I could do was enjoy the fall and pray my chute would open, or in this case, hope Savannah felt the same.

  This had started with just sex, but I refused to believe that’s all it was to her now.

  As if reading my mind, she tapped her collarbone and lifted her brows.

  Then I was the one grinning as I hooked my finger around the delicate gold chain and lifted it just enough so she could see the sunlight catch on the star pendant. I’ve got you right here.

  She nodded, then turned to laugh at something Liberty had said.

  I tucked the necklace back under my jersey. The thing was so light I didn’t feel it, and small enough that it didn’t interfere with my pads—or get noticed.

  Until that moment.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Nixon muttered next to me.

  “What?” My attention snapped to the game, but Nixon wasn’t focused on our defense, he stood staring at my neck, his eyes widening.

  “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” he demanded, leaning closer, his words clipped and only loud enough for me to hear them above the noise of the stadium.

  “What?” I repeated. Shit. Nix had always been the most observant of my teammates. Then again, he was the quarterback for a reason.

  “The necklace, Hendrix. I saw it.” Concern replaced shock in his eyes.

  “I don’t know…” I couldn’t finish the lie. Not to him. Not to Weston or Roman, either. Hell, there was part of me dying to blast my feelings for Savannah on the jumbotron. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

  There, I’d managed the truth.

  “The fuck you say,” he snapped. “You’re one of my best friends, and if that necklace means what I think it does, you’re in a world of trouble.” He shook his head. “I always knew you were reckless, but not this reckless.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” I assured him as the crowd went wild. We were up

  “This conversation isn’t over,” he warned me with a resigned shake of his head. “Now stop staring up at the stands and get your head in the game.”

  “Like yours isn’t in the stands,” I quipped as we took the field. Did it complicate things that Nixon knew? Sure. But he wasn’t about to rat us out, either.

  “My head is allowed to be on my wife whenever the fuck I want.” He smacked the back of my helmet as we huddled up.

  He called the play, took the snap, and his throw put the ball perfectly in my hands. I ran that ball all the way to the end zone just to see her smile.

  She did.

  The locker room was a raucous mix of music, back-slapping, and the questions from reporters brave enough to storm their way through a sea of towel-clad players. I did my part with a grin, taking four different interviews before grabbing a quick shower.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” Nixon asked, tugging me into his private section of our locker room. His gaze dropped to where the necklace hung just beneath the collar of my T-shirt.

  “I take it off when I shower.” I leaned back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other.

  “That’s not what I mean.” He raked his fingers through his hair and sat on the bench. “The sex can’t be good enough to ruin your career.”

  “Like you’d ever say that about Liberty?” My gaze narrowed.

  “Damn it, Hendrix. Liberty is my wife. Savannah is a kid!” His whisper was enough to let me know he’d keep the secret, no matter how outraged he was.

  “She’s not a kid. She’s a twenty-one-year-old woman and a college graduate,” I snapped.

  “It’s not just sex, is it?” he asked softly, his brow knitting.

  “No.” I shook my head, my stomach pitching at the admission. “It started that way, but—”

  “Started that way? How long has it been going on?” His voice rose.

  “Keep your voice down!” I peered through the doorway, but no one turned our direction. After a huge sigh of relief, I glared at Nixon. “A couple months.”

  “Shit.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “We’re keeping it quiet,” I said in excuse.

  “Not that quiet if I spotted her necklace.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Anyone else know?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Well, my mom, but it’s not like she’s going to run to Coach Goodman.”

  “He’s going to fucking kill you.” The simple way he said it stuttered my heart.

  “Yeah. I know. But I won’t leave her. I don’t care what happens.” The strength of my words hit me with their truth. “I love being a Raptor. I love being close to my family. But…I won’t lose her, Nix.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  I glanced at his private entrance. “Can I sneak out your door for a sec? I’m supposed to meet her, and the reporters are all over the exit.”

  He sighed long and hard. “Guess I’m an accomplice now anyway. Go have a happy birthday.” He waved me off.

  “Thanks!” I opened the heavy door to the hallway and glanced both ways to make sure the way was clear before leaving Nixon’s space.

  I passed by a few familiar faces and gave them the nod as I made my way to the conference room, then slipped inside. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they did, I couldn’t hold back my grin.

  “Happy birthday.” Savannah sat on the edge of the conference table, her legs crossed, her shirt sliding up her thigh. My jersey was knotted at her waist, but engulfed the rest of her torso, contrasting with the waves of red hair that cascaded down her back.

  “You already said that this morning.” It only took a half dozen steps to close the space between us.

  “Is there a limit to how often I can say it?” She wrapped her arms around my neck and smiled up at me.

  “Never.” I palmed her hips and tugged her close. “I loved seeing you in the stands today.”

  “I’m always in the stands.” She brushed a kiss over my chin.

  “Not what I mean.” I hissed when she made her way down my neck. With superhuman restraint, I managed to cradle her face and tip her chin so she’d meet my gaze. “You know that, right?”

  “I loved watching you play today, and like I said, I’m always in the stands, so yeah, I get it,” she whispered.

  “It’s different now.”

  She nodded and pulled my head toward hers.

  Our lips met, then opened, the kiss turning carnal in a heartbeat. Our tongues thrust and rubbed, our breaths growing choppy in record time. My body knew this woman, recognized her scent, her taste, her very touch. Savannah had the power to turn me on like a light switch—one graze of her fingers, and I was ready to go. I was already hard.

  “No post-game performance review?” I teased with a nip at her bottom lip. She knew the game just as well—if not better—than I did.

  “Trust me, you have no problems in the performance department.” She laced her fingers behind my neck. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and savored her little moan. “See?” she said against my mouth. “Good contact. Excellent speed. Thorough knowledge of the field, and don’t even get me started on those hands.”

  “These hands?” I took mine up the outsides of her thighs, stepping into the space as she parted them.

  “God, yes.”

  I kissed her long, hard, and with brazen thrusts of my tongue that mimicked exactly what I was going to do to her once I got her home. One kiss turned into two, three, until I forgot the world outside the conference room because it didn’t matter.

  Her thighs locked around my hips, and my cock throbbed. The need never lessened with her. It only grew. My hands slid under her skirt, and she rocked her hips, urging me on as the kiss spun far past anything that resembled control.

  “Touch me,” she whispered.<
br />
  I was too busy kissing her to respond verbally. I brushed over the lace of her panties and found her already soaked. “God, Savannah.”

  “I’m always wet for you, but seeing you out there on that field? I’m dying.”

  The door handle turned, then stopped, just like my heart.

  Both our gazes swung to the door.

  “Relax, I locked it,” I whispered.

  She huffed a laugh and captured my mouth again as my fingers stroked her through the lace.

  “God, I want you naked,” I growled.

  “Take me home,” she ordered.

  The sound of a key turning in the lock pierced through my lust-addled brain, but the door swung open before either of us had a chance to move.

  “It’s dark.”

  “I told you he wouldn’t be in here if it was locked,” Roman argued.

  Fuck. The voices came all at once, and the light flipped on, illuminating the entire room as I yanked my hands from underneath Savannah’s skirt, turning us both slightly so I blocked her from view.

  “Get out,” I barked over my shoulder.

  “We brought you a cake—whoa,” one of the rookies said, but it was Roman’s eyes I met, and they were wide enough to tell me he knew exactly who I had on this table.

  I shook my head quickly, and he nodded.

  “Everybody out, let’s give—” Roman turned around and started pushing the guys out, but one set of eyes rose over his shoulder.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Coach Goodman pushed past Roman with a disgruntled look on his face.

  This wasn’t happening. Was it? Every muscle in my body locked—this wasn’t something I could outrun or outtalk. We were caught.

  “Oh, God,” Savannah whispered as her head slammed against my chest.

  “Malone, what are you—”

  I saw it on his face, the moment his angle changed enough to see her. His jaw dropped as his eyes flew wide, his gaze popping between Savannah and me.

  Shit. Words failed.

  She lifted her head slowly, and the devastation, the guilt that etched her features branded themselves in my memory. I couldn’t save myself from what was about to happen, but maybe I could take the blame off her.

  “Sir, I can explain,” I started. Explain that I was wholeheartedly in love with his daughter. Explain that I would never hurt her, never cheat on her, never leave—not if I could help it. Explain that I was sorry for breaking his utmost rule, but couldn’t apologize for falling for her.

  “Savannah?” His voice broke.

  Her shoulders fell, and her hands lowered to my chest. “Hi, Daddy,” she whispered.

  His expression transformed, his lips pressing into a flat line, and his eyes turning to narrow slits of ice that he focused on me.

  “Surprise,” Roman said with fake jazz hands as the rookie slid a giant sheet cake onto the table. “Happy birthday?”

  “That’s one hell of a present you got—” the rookie started.

  All hell broke loose.

  16

  Savannah

  I was shaking.

  My entire body trembled—anger and regret and fear all mingling together in a terrible mixture that my body didn't agree with as I stomped into my father's office.

  I slammed the door behind me, not exactly meaning to but not exactly caring either.

  Dad seethed from behind his desk, his palms laid out flat on the top as if he needed to brace himself.

  Disappointment and anger flashed across his face, and it fucking hurt to see him look at me that way. I wasn’t sure if I'd ever seen him so disappointed in me.

  I swallowed down the hurt, shoved it way deep down because there were bigger, more important things to discuss.

  "You can't trade him," I said, my voice slightly shaking.

  "You’ve left me no choice. The entire team watched him—watched you—break my number one rule—"

  "I'm so sick of those rules," I cut him off. Not just his rules but Hendrix’s rules too. All the fucking rules. "Why is it your right to say what I can and can’t do with my own goddamn body?"

  Dad gaped at me, at the tone I’d taken with him. One I’d never taken with him before. But then again, I'd never needed to.

  "Dad,” I said, taking a deep breath to soften my voice. “I'm a grown woman. I have my degree. I have a job. I should be allowed to choose who I do or don't sleep with."

  Dad flinched like I'd slapped him across the face. He shook his head as if he could remove the images I’d planted in his mind.

  “He knew the rules. He broke them. What kind of coach am I if I let that slide? Regardless of how grown-up you are. This team is like a family,” he said, sighing. “And I’m the head of it. I set rules, boundaries, and expectations to keep us all safe. It’s not some sick sort of control over you, Savannah. It’s to prevent all the dramatics that can and most certainly will occur on my team if hearts get tangled up in the mix. Hendrix just threw away his chance at remaining a part of this family because he disregarded my decisions. He put this team at risk—”

  "What if I'm in love with him?" I spoke the words in almost a whisper.

  He planted me with an astonished, almost crazed look. A crystal clear depiction of utter disappointment.

  I’d never felt like more of a failure in my life.

  "If you were foolish enough to fall for that man..." he said through clenched teeth. He gripped the edges of his desk so hard I swore I heard the wood groan. "He's been on my team for years. I've watched him perform at home games and away games, and I'm not talking about on the field. Everyone knows what that boy is all about. The chase. The attention. He doesn't care about anything but himself and his career —"

  "You should get to know your players a little bit better because you're not giving him nearly enough credit," I cut him off, tears now freely streaming down my cheeks.

  "Do you honestly think he would choose you over his contract?" His voice was ice cold, but he released the desk and came around to face me, leaning against it as his eyes took on a pitying glance as I hesitated to answer.

  Because I didn't know.

  I didn't know if Hendrix would choose me over his contract, but I knew he shouldn't have to. I knew it was an unfair choice. But deep down in the depths of my soul, the only thing I was certain of was that I loved Hendrix more than I'd ever loved any man in my entire life.

  "Are you putting that ultimatum on me? On him?"

  Dad shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he let out a tight breath. "You put that on yourself. Just like he did. He knew the consequences. Hell, maybe the consequences are what made him go after you."

  I flinched at my father's insinuation, acid bubbling up my throat.

  Unfair.

  This was wholly and irrevocably unfair.

  Hendrix’s family depended on him—his mom, his sister, and sweet little Hunter. God, what would they do without the help he provided? What would he do if he got traded or worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he couldn’t provide for his family. And I couldn’t live with myself if I was the reason behind them suffering because of it.

  "Don't trade him," I said as I headed toward the door. "I'm responsible for this. And I'll clean it up. Just don't trade him."

  Dad called out to me, but I slammed the door behind me and hurried down the hallway.

  My heart broke with each step I took toward the locker room. I knew Hendrix would be waiting for me. Waiting to face whatever it was we had to face.

  And thankfully, it was empty except for him sitting on the bench.

  Because we didn't need a show for this.

  And I hated that I knew what I needed to do, but didn't know if I had the courage to do it.

  I had been selfish and reckless with him. So utterly selfish, I’d put my need for him over his livelihood. I’d seen his home. I’d learned his story, his background, and his career was everything. He’d worked so damn hard for it. For his family.

  Wh
o the hell was I to think I was worth burning all he’d strived for to the ground? Who the hell was I to have put him in such a position in the first place?

  A newfound hate for myself sucked at the bottom of my heart, heavy and sticky and oily. I’d been so damn selfish. Putting my craving for him, my love over what really, truly mattered.

  Him.

  His life.

  His needs.

  "How bad was it?" Hendrix asked the minute he saw me. He pushed off the bench, reaching for me.

  I backed away, and he dropped his arms, his head tilted.

  I mustered up every ice-cold mask I’d ever used with the frat boys whenever I’d run into one of them on campus. I focused on the way my ex and his buddies had called me Ice Princess. I conjured up that version of Savannah and cleared my throat.

  "It could've been worse," I said.

  Hendrix blew out a breath, but he still had some hesitance in those crushing blue eyes. "So we're okay?"

  "You're okay," I said. Hating the frost in my tone. "This was all just a matter of time anyway, right?"

  "What are you talking about?" he asked with deadly quiet.

  "This," I said, motioning between us. I paired it with a shrug that was so careless I wanted to bash my head against the lockers. "It was just a silly little arrangement, right? No need to get all worked up over it. We simply have to end it. Right now. I can't do it anymore. I can't stand the look of disappointment on my father's face anymore —"

  "What?" Hendrix cut me off, utter confusion in his eyes. He shook his head, reaching for me again and flinching when I backed away from his touch. "Savannah," he said, pleading. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to brush this off. I’ve fallen in love with you —"

  "Maybe you shouldn’t have broken rule number five. You're the one who laid out the rules, remember? You're the one in control, right?" I tried to cut him off before he could say anything else that would shred us both the pieces.

  The pain and betrayal in his eyes was enough to break my soul into a thousand shards of jagged glass that cut me up from the inside out. But I kept remembering his story from when we went home, of that little boy who went hungry. How his family constantly struggled.