Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (52 page)

“Flor,” I began again, and he visibly cringed. I decided to lead into my questions about the box by leaning down and digging something from my purse. I tossed it across the table and watched him catch it single-handedly. He stared down at his palm with a frown.

“The fuck is this?” he asked me, and I couldn't hold back a smile.

“It's a toothbrush,” I said, “for your cat.” I felt my smile turn into a grin and my left hand unconsciously rise to finger the locket. After he'd gotten such a thoughtful gift for me, something that represented him and me, and all I could do was fall back into our old routines with a gag gift. Well, after the intensity of our conversation, I was kind of glad for it. “I got it at the pet shop. You can buy tuna flavored toothpaste, you know.”

“Screw you,” he said, but at least he said it with a smile. “This probably takes the cake for the worst anniversary gift ever.” I thought about mentioning the vibrator he'd gotten me one year and then decided it didn't seem so funny anymore, not with the moist droplets of desire coating my forehead and lower back. If Flor were to touch me now, lay his fingers against the nape of my neck, press his lips to my forehead, I'd melt. The heat between my thighs would consume my body and leave me nothing but ashes.

“What about yours?” I said, trying to deflect my feelings with humor. I raised the chain of the locket and let its silver surface dangle between my fingers. “Where did you get this box?” Heat suffused my cheeks as I leaned back and pretended not to give a shit. But I did. I really, really did.

Flor spun the toothbrush between his fingers, focusing on it and not on me.

“It was on the truck. I dropped it and the top opened. I didn't mean to snoop through your shit, Abi, but when I found like, a fucking shrine to myself, curiosity sort of took over.” I pursed my lips, about to blurt that it wasn't a shrine, but that was only partially true. It just wasn't a shrine
anymore.
“There's a lock of my hair in there, Abi. That's creepy as hell.”

I clutched the box even tighter and leaned forward, desperate not to let anyone else in the restaurant hear this portion of our conversation. I'm sure they'd heard enough already. I eyed Florian with my best
take-no-prisoners
look and tried to be stern. The hair thing was a little weird, but I'd found it on the floor after he'd cut his own hair with a razor; it wasn't like I'd snipped it myself. Yes, still stalkerish, but on a slightly lesser level. That didn't stop a slight flush from coloring my cheeks.

“It's just … stuff of yours that I had or that I found.” I let my eyes slide from his for a moment to regain my composure before letting them move back over. Flor didn't look like he believed me, but I didn't care. What did it matter anyway? He'd literally just told me to
shut up
rather than reveal my feelings for him.

Those green eyes though … oh God, those eyes … why did he have to look at me like that? Why did his dark brows have to frame that green gaze so perfectly? I refocused my attention back on the menu and waited for him to say something. The silence between us stretched thin and brittle, broken only by the tentative steps of the waitress as she approached and took our order. We both got burgers, medium-well, ketchup and lettuce only; he ordered himself a pint and the only reason I wasn't jumping in right alongside him was because legally, I couldn't.

Bleh.

“When?” Flor asked, toying with his water glass. When I hazarded a glance at his face, he wasn't looking at me. Good. That gave me some time to study his expression. Unfortunately, it was as unreadable as a rock face. I sighed.

“When, what?” I asked, my voice weighty and weary, like my throat had realized far before my heart what had just happened: we'd lost. We'd really … lost. Tears pricked the corners of my eyelids, and I curled my fists in my lap, cutting into my palm with my fingernails as I tried not to cry.

“Don't do that,” Flor said, his smooth voice rough and husky, a trait he seemed to reserve only for me. But why? If he felt the way he said he did, why bother? It seemed that as much as I'd promised a relationship between us was possible to myself, that I hadn't been honest. I'd wanted it. Oh yeah, in the back of my mind, I'd been betting on it. But now, I had my answer. No. “Don't cry, Abigail,” he pleaded as I stood up suddenly, pushing my chair back across the wood floor.

I made myself smile. It hurt to twist my lips like that, but I managed it.

“Be right back, 'kay?” I said and then hurried away before Flor could stop me. Once I was in the bathroom, I found myself hunched over and choking back sobs. Wow. It felt like my heart was coming undone, like it was unraveling inside my chest and leaving me empty. All of the anxiety and the hope and desperation I'd felt over the years slammed into me all at once, leaving me gasping for breath.

“Abi, I'm coming in.”

Shit.

I spun around just in time to see Flor burst through the door, running his hands through his dark hair as he paused in front of me, face falling at the scene before him. A quick glance to my right and my reflection told me all I needed to know: I was a wreck. Makeup ran down my cheeks in two rivulets and my skin was flushed a ruddy color, turning my naturally bronze skin into a muddy mess.

“This is the
ladies
room, Flor. It's for
ladies,
as in people that are
not
you. Get out.” I tried to turn away towards the stalls, but he caught my wrist, holding me in place. I refused to look back at him. “Why can't you just leave me alone for a minute?” I asked.

“Do you remember when I stole a bottle of champagne from my aunt's wedding reception? When we climbed out onto the roof, barefoot, and drank it together?” I snorted, but refused to answer him. Of course I remembered that. I could still see the sky painted with fingers of pink and orange, still hear my stepmother's laughter ringing across the open space, still taste the bubbles against my tongue. Flor was sixteen at the time, and I was only thirteen, but I'd wanted to be cool like him so, even though I was scared of being caught, I'd gone along with it. After the contents of the bottle had disappeared, I'd leaned against my stepbrother, breathed in his scent and fell asleep with my head against his shoulder.

“That's … I knew that I loved you then. I think I always had, but … it took me until that moment to realize it.”

Jesus.

My heart did a somersault in my chest, the sensation made all the worse by the fact that it was still coming undone. How, why, would he do this to me now, after so clearly rejecting me?

“So, when?” he asked again, tugging me a step closer. “When did it happen for you?”

I shook my head and felt tears fall from my eyes. I could not do this anymore. When, he wanted to know, had I fallen in love with him? If I had to hazard a guess, it would've been that first day, when I'd first made contact with those green eyes of his. Obviously I'd been a child at the time, but I'd loved him anyway. I'd always loved Flor.

When I didn't answer, he pulled me back and spun me so that I was facing him, one hand sliding under my chin to lift my face to his, the other releasing my wrist and curling around my waist. Flor pressed us into the wall and growled low under his breath, letting go of my chin and burying his face in my hair.

“Abi … ”

“Stop it, Flor,” I cried, letting go of my emotions. Why hide them anymore? What was the point? “I can't do it anymore.” My voice was hardly audible, choked with sobs, blurred by tears. “When you touch me, I fall apart. You're all I think about. And I … you make me so crazy, my stomach is always twisted up in knots. When I see you with other girls, I want to die. No, I … I want
them
to die, and I hate myself for it, so stop. Just stop and let me go.”

“But I can't,” he snarled angrily, his breath hot against the back of my neck. I squirmed in his grip, but he didn't let go, instead moving his hand down, sliding it up under my skirt and feeling his way along my bare thigh, just like he'd done all those years ago. Just as it had back then, his touch burned now, brought a whimper to my lips that Flor kissed away, sealing my emotions with a simple press of his mouth against mine.

Tears poured down my cheeks, salty wetness blurring between kisses as his tongue found mine and my arms, slowly, treacherously, found their way around his neck. Flor pulled back so I could catch my breath, kissing his way across my moist cheeks, brushing my curls back, finding my throat. Meanwhile, his hand roved further up, cupping my ass, squeezing my flesh with desperate fingers. I could feel him hard and desperate against me and adjusted my body to get a better angle.
A better angle for what?
my brain asked me as I leaned back and felt the metal of the locket slide against the skin of my chest.

My head cleared suddenly, like storm clouds moving over the sun, and I gasped.

My hands found Flor's chest and pushed. Surprised, he stumbled back and I moved around him just in time to bump into the door as it opened.

“Sorry,” I mumbled to the startled woman, and then I was gone, running through the restaurant and past the table. I didn't look back to see if Flor was following me, and I didn't bother to pay for my burger.

My stepbrother had just broken my heart – again – so the least he could do was foot the bill.

CHAPTER TEN

Family freaking dinner.

I sat across the table from Flor, my hands shaking as I gripped the fork and listened to my stepmom talk about some construction that was happening near her office. I hadn't expected Florian to come, not after what had happened between us earlier, but here he was, arrogant and unapologetic. His eyes followed me around the room, and I had this itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, like he was just waiting to get me alone.

“Anyway,” River said, straightening out the cloth napkin on her lap and shaking her head, “enough about that. Florian, how's Rhonda?” I kept my attention focused on my plate. After a moment of silence, I glanced up and found those sharp emerald irises locked onto my face and swallowed. How could he frown like that? Wear his hair all mussy and beautiful? Come here with rumpled clothes and a bad attitude, like this was all my fault? “Florian,” River snapped and he blinked like he was coming back to life, dragging his gaze from me.

My dad's blue eyes traveled between the two of us and I had to swallow hard and struggle not to be alarmed by the intense look in them. He sensed something. Oh my God. What would he do if he found out? I couldn't even imagine. He'd think I was a freak, a pervert, call me an incestuous whore and kick me out of his life.

My nerves had never been stretched so taut.

“What?” Flor snapped back at his mom. River narrowed her eyes on her son and then glanced over at me with pursed lips. So she felt it, too. Great.

“How's Rhonda?” she asked again, trying her very best to keep calm. I could see her irritation in the set of her slender shoulders. “You haven't mentioned her once tonight.”

“Oh, uh,” Flor began, looking back at me. I kept my face neutral, or at least I tried. My dad had already commented on my puffy eyes and swollen face; I'd been crying all day. I'd lied and told him I'd gotten an F on my chem test, and he'd actually hugged me. And
then
he'd lectured me on the importance of keeping up my grades, warning me against future failures. I squeezed my hands into fists. “Rhonda is fine, but she wants to move too fast. I think I'm going to break up with her.”

“Really?” River asked skeptically, reaching out and squeezing her son's hand. “Florian, this is the only girl you've ever brought home. She must be special. What exactly does she want?”

“She wants to get engaged,” Florian said, stuffing his mouth full of mashed potatoes, so he didn't need to elaborate. I stared at his face, trying to keep the shock off of mine.

“Hmm,” River mused, looking over at me. “What did you think of her, Abi?” I quickly copied Flor and stuffed food into my mouth, so I didn't have to answer right away.

“
Nee-chan
doesn't like her, do you, Abigail?” Flor asked, putting down his fork and reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

“Outside, Florian,” my dad warned as my stepbrother pushed his chair back and watched me carefully. I looked down at the carpet and shrugged.

“She was okay, I guess,” I whispered. In all reality, I wasn't
that
worried about Rhonda. Flor had brought her home, but … I'd seen him look at other girls a hell of a lot more seriously. Rhonda wasn't going to make it much longer than any of the others.

“You know,” River said, grabbing Flor's arm and extracting the cigarettes from him. She placed them on the tablecloth and patted his chair. River and my father were pretty old fashioned when it came to dinner. You ate together until
everyone
was done. Flor frowned at her, but sat back down. Sometimes, I forgot that he was only twenty-one; his eyes seemed so much older. “That reminds me. Whatever happened to that sweet boy you were dating, Abi? Addison's friend?”

Crap.

I called out my brother's name in bed.

“He … didn't work out,” I answered, trying to avoid the subject of Max.

“Didn't Abi tell you?” Flor said in his best know-it-all asshole tone. “She's dating Max now.”

My father seriously started choking on his green beans.

My stepmom patted his back until he calmed down and then they both stared across the table at me.

“Abigail,” my father began and I felt my cheeks heating.
Shit.
“Does Max have anything to do with the bad grade on your exam?” Underneath his words were all the things he couldn't say with Flor and my stepmom around.
Max is no good. He's a loser, just like your brother. He's exactly the sort of man that will ruin your life and smile in the rearview mirror as he drives away.
I knew that my dad was desperate not to see me screw up my life for a guy, or make a mistake choosing a partner like he had with my mom, but the look in his eyes still stung.

“Yeah, Abi,” Flor said, leaning back and weaving his fingers together behind his head, “does he?” I wanted to pick my fork up and throw it at him, but instead, I just folded my hands in my lap and shook my head.
I won't think about that kiss today or the one last night. I won't think about Flor's words either.
Why should I, if he didn't really mean them?