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Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-three

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Lainey

“Time to get up, baby girl.” I nudge the door of Cassidy’s room open, acutely aware of Nick watching my every move. He’s got my phone, saw my notes, and now I need that phone back to text a warning to Charlotte.

My girl’s head pops up. She always goes from asleep to awake in a nanosecond. I suppose she gets that from her dad because I go through two snoozes and have to engage in intense arguments with myself before I roll out of bed in the morning. “I’m hungry,” she announces. “Are we going to the park today?”

“Sure. What should we do?”

“Feed the ducks!” she exclaims tumbling out of bed. Over my shoulder, she spots her favorite person in the world. “Uncle Nick!” she screams. “Are you coming too?”

“I sure am.” He catches the little ball of curls and soft skin as it hurtles toward him. Lifting her high, he presses a dozen kisses against her face. She squeals with joy and kisses him back. Oh, to be young and innocent.

I pull out a pair of knit pants and a matching t-shirt and toss them onto the bed. “Get dressed, honey, and you can have a snack before we go. Faster you get dressed, sooner we can play with the ducks.”

“Let me go, Uncle Nick.” She wriggles out of his grasp and pushes at his knees. “I gotta get dressed.”

I finish the job, pushing Nick all the way out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me. I hold out my hand. “Can I have my phone back now?”

“Nope. You don’t need it. We’re going to the park, remember?” He shoves the phone in his front pocket. I grab for it, my hand brushing his dick. “Baby, if there’s something you want down there, I’m happy to get it out for you. No games necessary. Although,” he leans forward to whisper, “maybe we oughtta wait until Cassidy is sleeping again.”

A punch to his chest yields nothing but a hurt fist. “Give. Me. The. Phone,” I hiss. “What if I have an emergency and need to call for help?”

“I’m here,” he says.

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

His eyes light up with mischief. “How about this? I’ll give you your phone if you give me a kiss.”

“I’ll kiss you alright. With my fist.” I attack him but he skips backward, into the bathroom. I jump, grab his arm, and right when I’ve got my hand on the phone, Cassie’s little voice chirps behind me.

“Are we playing, Momma?”

I jerk around and bump Nick’s arm with me head. The phone drops out of his hand and into the toilet.

“Oh sh-shugar,” I cry, pushing Nick out of the way. I plunge my hand into the toilet water, but the screen on the phone is black. I press the power button and nothing happens.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Nick says quietly.

“You’re a walking, talking penis-head,” I hiss. “Let me use your phone.”

“No. I’ll buy you a new phone.” He pushes past me and grabs Cassidy. “Yeah, we’re going to play tickle monster.” He buries his face in Cassidy’s neck, and she screams with laughter.

As they giggle and play, I wash my hands and take a hair dryer to my phone but the quick dousing in the toilet has done the old thing in. Frustrated, I stalk out of the bathroom to find Nick and Cassidy eating peanut butter sandwiches.

“Uncle Nick’s gotta call his brother before we go, Momma,” Cassidy tells me. Her stubby legs swing back and forth, hitting Nick in the shins. I’d like to kick him there.

“I made you a sandwich too.” He points to the plate beside him. He shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, gulps down half a glass of milk, and then leans over to ruffle Cassidy’s hair. Said asshole gets to his feet and says, “Be right back, sweetheart. Make sure your mom eats her sandwich.”

“Sit down, Momma.” Cassidy smiles sweetly up at me, having no idea what an asshole her favorite person is. “We put ‘nanas in yours.”

“Did you now?” I give in, taking the seat Nick abandoned. “How’d you know I’d want my sandwich just like that?”

“I didn’t,” she admits solemnly. “Uncle Nick said you liked them.”

“You love your Uncle Nick, don’t you?” I sigh. The sandwich is just how I like it—chunky peanut butter with a drizzle of honey and sliced bananas. I wonder when Nick saw me eat them. I can’t remember ever making them in front of him but I must’ve because how else would he have known? His own sandwich was a flat affair of bread and peanut butter, hold the honey.

“Yup. He’s the bestest.” The peanut buttery smile she gives me tugs at my heart. I’d been wrong to move her away from the people who loved her into a house full of sick people who all needed more attention than I could adequately give them.

I reach over and swipe a napkin across her face. “Your Uncle Nick sometimes does things that are aggravating.”

“What’s that?” she says around her last mouthful of sandwich.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I chastise gently. “Aggravating is like when you’re tickled too much, and it isn’t fun anymore.”

“Oh, I don’t like that. Can’t you tell him to stop? He always stops when I tell him too. You should speak up more, Momma.”

“I suppose I should.”

She climbs off her chair and presses sticky fingers against my face. “Sometimes you can’t stop tickling because you just want to hear more laughing.”

I poke her in the side. “Like this?”

She arches away, holding her side and giggling. “Like that! Hurry up.” She skips away. “I wanna go to the park.”

Nick strolls in, leans one broad shoulder against the doorframe, and tucks his clean, dry phone into his pocket.

“Call your brother?”

“I did.” He holds out his hand. “Get your stuff. We’ll stop by the cell store after we feed the ducks, and I’ll replace your phone.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. My phone is dead, and he won’t lend me his.

“Come on, Cassidy. You ready?” I grab the day-old bread I’ve been saving for this and stuff it into my purse.

As we’re walking out, Nick places a hand on the small of my back. The simple touch causes all my nerve endings to jingle in excitement. He bends down, his mouth only a fraction away from the top of my ear. “I’m not doing this to hurt Charlie. I want her to be happy, same as I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I tell him as I watch my pride and joy skip-hop to the elevator. “I have Cassidy.”

His hand tightens briefly and then falls away. “I want you to be happier.”

The loss of his touch sends a pang of loneliness through me, but the ache in my gut has more to do with fear than anything else. I’ve tried to be content with what I’ve had because each time I’ve reached for more, my hands have been brutally smacked. A girl can only go through so much before she learns that settling is a fine way to live.

Isn’t it?

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-three appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-two

 

Lainey

Nick’s hand is raised, ready to knock, when I whip out of my apartment. “Going somewhere?” he asks as he lowers his hand to his side.

“I have an errand to run. Why are you here?” The downside to living in the same building as Charlie is that she still lives with Nick. I see him everywhere, and since moving back to Dallas two months ago, he’s been constantly underfoot. One would think in the off-season, he’d have something better to do than hang around here.

“I, ah, think I forgot my phone here last night.” He peers past me. “Did you have a good time on your date last night?”

“Your phone,” I repeat skeptically.

“Yeah, Cass and I were playing, and it must’ve dropped out of my pocket.” He smiles brightly and pushes the door open. “Where’s Cass?”

“Sleeping. I’m going downstairs to get a coffee.” There’s a Starbucks across the street, and I desperately need some caffeine. Later today I’m going to the nursing home, and those visits are always emotionally draining.

“Great.” He steps by me. “I’ll look around while you make the coffee run. I’ll take a flat black.” He hands me a twenty and then shuts my own door in my face.

I stare at the door for a second before spinning around and making my way to the elevator. That man is up to something but I don’t know what it is.

A text alert dings.

Call me.

It’s Charlie. Yesterday we moved her from the Del in Coronado to a different hotel in La Jolla after she’d run into her ex again.

“What’s up?” I ask. “Is your room okay?”

“Yes.” She sounds breathless. “Did you give my location to Nick?”

“No. I’ve barely spent any time with him. I was late for my date with Rudolph last night so when Nick showed up, I jetted out of there.” The elevator drops to the first floor.

“Okay, good.”

“Why?” I push open the lobby doors and dart across the street.

“Nate’s going to find out where I am from Nick who will wheedle it out of you, somehow. But I just need some space. I’ve called in reinforcements.”

“My suggestion was to not sleep with him. Sleeping with a guy encourages them in unpredictable ways.” Inside Starbucks, there’s no line. I give my order to the barista while Charlie spouts off excuses in my ear.

“I couldn’t help myself. I’m weak when it comes to Nate. We both know this. Heck, everyone knows this. It’s why I had to run from the Del to La Jolla!”

“So what’re you going to do?” I pick up the two coffees with a nod of thanks to the coffee clerk. Hurrying back across the street, I try to envision if I’ve left anything out in my apartment that would give Charlie’s location away.

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m so confused,” she laments. “Men are the worst.”

“Maybe it’s just the Jackson boys that are terrible.”

“Is that why we love them?” She sighs softly. “Don’t answer that. I love you, babe. I’m going to try to lie down and get some sleep before Colin arrives.”

“Mr. Hollywood is your reinforcement?” Inside the condo building, the elevator takes forever to arrive.

“Yes. Who better to combat a decorated Navy SEAL than someone as rich and famous as Colin?”

“Send him my way once you’re done with him,” I order.

“I’m not sure he’s an effective Jackson repellant. I’ll report back.”

The elevator doors slide open. I hop inside and press the fourth floor button. “I guess I’ll make do by myself until then. Get some sleep, babe.”

“I will,” she hesitates. “Nick and Nate are both really good men. I don’t know why they’re so hard on a girl’s heart.”

Wealth, privilege, overweening ego? Who knows. But Charlie’s absolutely right. The two of them are brutal, even if they don’t mean to be.

Inside the apartment, I find Nick lounging on the sofa watching ESPN.

“Why are you still here?” I ask suspiciously. Glancing around, I don’t see anything incriminating that he could share with his brother.

“Waiting for my coffee.”

I look down and see his flat black in my hand. Shoving it toward him, I scowl, “Here you go. You can leave now.”

“I’m in the middle of last night’s highlights,” he protests.

“Watch them upstairs.”

“It’s too quiet without Charlie. You don’t know where she is, do you? I called the Del last night, and they said she’d checked out.” Nick takes a slow sip as he watches me over the top of the cup.

“Ha! I knew you were here fishing for information. I do know where she is but I’m not telling you.” I stomp into the kitchen, drop my stuff on the counter, and throw open the fridge door to get fixings for a snack. Cassie will be hungry when she wakes up.

“So what’s your password again?” Nick asks casually.

Spinning around, I see him fiddling with my phone.

“Give that back,” I order. I make a grab for it but Nick dances away easily. Damn his professional athlete skills. “I need just one thing.” He holds up a finger and taps a few buttons. “Ah ha! Cassie’s birthday, Lainey? Really?”

“I know what you’re looking for.” I lunge for him again but he’s nearly a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier. I’m getting nothing from him unless he allows it and right now, he’s only interested in a single thing—discovering where Charlie is so he can give her information to his terrible brother.

“He hurt her,” I remind Nick as he scrolls down the screen. “He hurt and abandoned her for nine years.”

A shadow crosses Nick’s eyes. “I know but he’s sorry.”

“Oh, he’s sorry,” I spit back. “Five letters don’t erase nine years of rejection, asshole.”

He tosses me the phone. “Are we still talking about Nate and Charlotte?”

His words make me fumble the catch, and the phone lands on the floor. “Yeah, of course.”

“Still not going to ask me about the post Super Bowl pics?”

The question shakes me. I’ve put those pictures out of my mind. Nick tried to explain that they were fake, done up so he could throw Chip off the scent. The scent of what, I wondered, but then, for my own sanity, I dropped it. Nick brings it up, occasionally, and I pretend I don’t care. Like now.

I fake concern about my phone, rubbing the screen against my pants until I think my voice is steady enough to reply. “I operate under the don’t ask, don’t tell policy.”

“That policy was eliminated on the grounds it wasn’t healthy for anybody involved.”

“Well, you’re entitled to your life.” I say with forced carelessness.

“And that’s that,” he says with a tinge of exasperation.

Equally frustrated, I brush past him. “The last thing I want to talk about is pictures.”

“Because of Chip, right?”

“Right.”

“You know I don’t care about that shit. I was no angel in college.”

Even his words of re-assurance bother me as I envision Nick as part of one of those drug-fueled orgies. This is exactly why I don’t want to talk about it.

“I’d like to keep the past in the past.” I say on my way to get Cassidy up. “I did regrettable things, and it sounds like you did too. Right now I want to prevent my best friend from getting her heart broken.”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt—not Charlie, not Nate, not you, either.”

“Then don’t give him the number,” I beg. “Leave her alone. Let her start new.”

He follows me down the hall. “I still can’t tell who you’re talking about.”

I pause at the door. “Charlie.”

“So you say.”

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-two appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-One

 

Lainey

The Mustangs keep winning, and the tickets to games keep coming but I ignore them, even the ones to the Super Bowl. In all that time, I received only one text from Nick.

I’m taking care of it.

And I’ve sent one in return.

Congratulations on winning everything!

Maybe I would’ve said more if I hadn’t seen the picture of him plastered all over the internet, half-soaked with booze, with a beautiful girl on his lap. Maybe that could’ve been explained away by an excuse that the photo was taken at just the right time to make it appear the two were close; when in reality, she’d just dropped into his lap. Maybe I shouldn’t have found the second picture, taken hours later, so gut wrenching. Nick and I had made no promises to each other. If anything, I’d held him at arm’s length. So what right did I have to be angry that the same brown-haired girl had taken an intimate photo showing her winking at the camera while a naked Nick slumbered in the background?

None.

I had no rights.

And even if I wanted to exert some kind of claim, my world decided to fall apart at that very moment. A week after the Super Bowl, a week after I cried a bucketful of tears in my pillow, Grandma suffered a serious stroke. And Mom, who rarely had any lucid moments any more, lost it completely.

Caring for both of them, along with Cassidy, leaves me with zero energy. Football, explicit pictures, broken hearts, and awful past-life choices don’t matter at this point; neither does my pride.

When Charlie and Reese arrive after three weeks, I fall into their arms with relief.

“You look terrible,” Charlie says. The concern in her voice makes my eyes sting.

“I feel it,” I admit. She gives me a hug and then is pushed aside by Reese who picks me up and squeezes me so tight that I finally start feeling warm inside.

“What can we do?” Charlie says. We all look around at the mess of toys, clothes, and medical paraphernalia. Dishes—clean ones, thankfully­—are stacked on towels on the kitchen counters. I’ve managed to barely stay ahead with everything—laundry, dishes, groceries, medications—but that means everything else has fallen by the wayside.

Shame at the state of the place heats my cheeks. “Everything?”

Charlie gives me a smile and squeezes my shoulder, as if to say this too shall pass.

“Where’s my princess?” Reese declares, striding through the mess to pick up Cassidy who is busy coloring at the coffee table. The television is playing low in the background. I’ve had to rely on it more these days to keep Cassidy occupied while I’m helping Mom and Grandma.

“Here, I am,” she squeals and lifts her face for a kiss.

Reese swings her into his arms. “I’m taking you to the park,” he announces. “What should we bring?”

“Mr. Bubbles wants to go.” Cassidy holds up a pink unicorn.

“Mr. Bubbles shall go on all the rides,” Reese agrees. On his way to the door, he pauses to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll stop by and pick up groceries on the way home. Anything in particular?”

“Milk?” I really have no idea.

“Milk it is. Text me if you need anything more,” he says and with a wave, the two of them are gone.

“Kitchen or living room?” Charlie asks when the door closes.

“Kitchen.”

“I know you’re embarrassed but you shouldn’t be. You’re doing the work of about five people, and everything here is clean. Cassidy is fed and happy. So what if it’s cluttered?” Charlie says as she starts stacking the dishes away.

I tackle the pots and pans. “The mess is depressing, and I can’t seem to get a handle on things. If I take the time to pick up everything, I miss out on reading with Cassidy. If I skip reading with Cassidy, there are still adult diapers to be changed, medications to be given, bodies to move. Mom and Nana can’t lie in one position too long or they’ll get bed sores which means a hospital visit.”

“What else can Reese and I do while we’re here?”

Tell me what’s going on with Nick! The single bright thing about being busy is not having the energy to even think about Nick’s pictures and his post-Super Bowl party activities, but now that Charlie is here, I’m dying to ask. Ruthlessly, I shove thoughts of him aside.

“Actually, just having the company is nice,” I admit. It’s been lonely for me since I moved back home. I hadn’t had close friends in high school since I was too busy partying with Chip’s older crowd.  “I know I can’t keep taking care of my mom and grandma by myself. Social services suggested I send Nana to a nursing home.”

“Have you decided which one?” She asks, putting the last of the dishes away.

“I haven’t had time to look at anything yet.” I grab a sponge and start scrubbing down all the cleared surfaces while Charlie dries her hands off with a towel.

“Let me help.” She puts down the towel and comes over to me. “I know you hate this but listen to me. I have a trust fund, and it’s very large. My parents have been very fortunate in their lives, and they’ve given me a lot of money. It’s more than I’d be able to spend in a lifetime. I’ve never told anyone how much because I don’t like for people to know. They treat you differently; but Lainey, I know that it doesn’t matter to you.”

“Of course it doesn’t.” My heart pounds, full of dread at what she’s going to offer and what I know I’ll have to accept.

“It doesn’t make you a bad person to accept my help. It doesn’t make you a worthless person.”

I close my eyes. “It makes me feel low.”

“If I was your wife, you’d let me help, right?”

That wrenches a laugh out of me. “You proposing, Charlie?”

“If it would get you to take my money, yes.”

I bury my face in my hands. I’d known this was coming from the moment I told her she could come and visit. Once she saw the state of my life, she wouldn’t be able to leave without making sure I was on my feet again. The wretched thing is that I need her help. Since I was seventeen, kicked out of this very house, I’d made a life for Cassidy and me without asking for anything from anyone.

Charlie rubs my back. “It’s not a bad thing, you asking for help.”

“Maybe not, but it feels terrible.”

“Do you want me to find a place?”

“No, I will. How long can you stay?”

“As long as you need.”

I lean against her slight frame that has a surprising amount of strength. There may be no Nick in my future, but I have Charlotte as a friend, Cassidy as my bright light, and Reese as my ray of sunshine. I’ll be okay.

I have to be.

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-One appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Laine’s List Chapter Forty

Nick

As Chip walks across the bar, his eyes catch and hold on every reflective surface. When those aren’t available to allow him to admire his own reflection, his eyes dart around to catalog who else is admiring him as he saunters to my table. I’ve never spent much time evaluating the looks of dudes but I guess Chip isn’t offensive, and a solid number of women in tight dresses and lots of makeup linger on his frame. Then again, those women could be mistaking Chip for one of the Mustangs; which means he could look like a troll and smell like yesterday’s dirty socks, and they’d still be interested in his jock.

I wonder what drew Lainey to him. Was it his wallet? His potential for fame? Was she just a big jock chaser? None of that added up for me. She wouldn’t accept monetary help from Charlie or me. She didn’t, as far as I knew, date any Mustangs, even though there were plenty who had made offers to her while she slung drinks at the bar.

But why Chip? And why those pictures? He’d shoved a few of them in my face and said I could have the rest when I met with him.

I couldn’t get them out of my head, and I needed to because I had a game in less than twenty-four hours. If I couldn’t get focused, I was going to play like crap on a day that I needed to be heroic on the field. One more game and we had home field advantage throughout the playoffs. One more game, and Chip springs this shit on me? Does he remember that we’re playing on the same team? Sure, he’s a coach, but the goal is the same for each and every one of us—win the ring.

Chip toting an envelope full of salacious pictures of Lainey isn’t progressing us toward that goal because instead of thinking about the nickel defense, I’m fantasizing about catapulting from my chair and beating the piss out of Chip. I wonder how fast the video of that would go up on Twitter. Five seconds? Ten?

I grind my back molars as Chip reaches me. He slides into a chair without fear. Why didn’t he play like that on the field? It was his hesitation that got him beat more than once. Then I notice the rapid pulse in his neck, the light sheen of sweat near his hairline, and the nervous movements of his fingers as he taps the envelope.

He’s anxious. It’s a mix of excitement but also of fear and that settles me more than anything. Leaning back, I throw an arm across the top of the velvet banquette.

“More game film?” I say easily.

His eyebrows furrow and my confidence grows. He thought I’d be the nervous and scared one. Not today, son. Not today.

He chokes out a smart-ass laugh. “If we’re talking about the fucking game, I guess so.” He slides the envelope across the table. I don’t make any move toward it. Instead, I keep my eyes on him.

“What’s the point of this?”

“The pictures? I’m trying to save you, man.” He clasps his hands together and leans forward. “This girl is toxic and these pictures are just to show you exactly how. Or maybe you’re into the orgy thing, which, hey, is none of my business, but this sort of thing can really be a distraction. And you know what Coach says.” He invites me to finish his sentence but I’m not playing any games with him, not even fill-in-the-blank.

He makes a small face. “Anyway, obviously, no distractions. Elaina Valdez is a big fucking distraction; not to mention the girl probably carries around more diseases than a ship carries sailors, am I right?”

“No.”

Confusion sets in. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, no, I don’t believe Lainey is a distraction or that she is likely to be a carrier of an STD anymore than I am; and we both know from my constant health reports that I’m a perfect physical specimen. What about you?”

He jerks back, shaking his head as he tries to catch the reins of this conversation. “I’m clean.”

“So you say.” I slide the pictures away from Chip and place my palm on them. He’s got extras. In this digital age, pictures never disappear but at least these won’t be in his possession.

“Well, I am,” he insists.

“I don’t care. Tell me why Lainey. What do you have against her?”

He fumes for a moment, wanting me to agree that he, too, is in perfect condition but then realizes how far astray he is from his original plan, whatever that was. “I’ve got nothing against her. I’m trying to protect you.”

“By printing out pictures of Lainey with other people? Those pictures will embarrass her. They don’t impact me at all. So I’ve got to wonder why you’re so concerned with one waitress who you don’t even particularly like. Unless…” I trail off. Unless those pictures aren’t about harassing Lainey at all but rather they’re about affecting me. “Jesus, this isn’t about the girl at all, is it?”

He throws up his hands. “Finally, yes! It’s all about protecting you and your image. I don’t want–”

I hold up a palm to cut him off. “It’s about the fact that you’re jealous as fuck that I took over your position. You could give two shits about Lainey. You want to get into my head and see me fail. You’d probably love it if I lost my head and threw a few punches. I’d get suspended. The media would crucify me. Old rumors about me not being a team player would be dredged up.”

Chip’s face turns white. “N-no,” he stutters. “That’s not why I brought this up at all. I want to win.”

“That may be the single truthful thing you’ve said since you sat down. You do want to win but you’re not in the limelight anymore, and it’s killing you that your back up is.” I push the table back, far enough that it punches Chip in the gut. Standing up, I pick up the envelope and fold it in half, small enough that I can shove it into the inside pocket of my suit coat. “I’m done here. See you at morning walkthrough.”

“Don’t forget. There’s more where those came from,” he hisses as I start to walk away.

I take a moment before turning around to face him. He doesn’t deserve to see my anger. Indifference will needle him more than anything. “I have no doubt that you do which is why whatever you’re selling here isn’t worth buying.”

“Ask Lainey if she feels the same way,” he mocks.

I lean down, bracing one arm on the table and one arm on his chair back so that all he sees is my stone face. “You’re desperate and craven. There’s no point in bargaining with you. What you don’t see, because you’re so damn myopic, is that you’ve lost your leverage. You led with your trump card, and it wasn’t good enough. I’m going to go win tomorrow and then the next four games. When I’m champ, it doesn’t matter how many pictures you have of Lainey. This team will lay down their collective lives to keep me, and the town will kiss my feet. We both know that winners can do anything they want in this world.”

“And if you don’t win?” He says snidely.

“That’s not an option.”

The post Laine’s List Chapter Forty appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Nine

 

Lainey

“Lainey’s a family friend,” Nick says and tries to close the door.

Chip blocks it with his foot and then sidles inside. “This is a nice room. You don’t like what the team reserved for you?” Hands on his hips, he swivels around. “I mean, granted, our rooms don’t come with girls.”

I’m so done here. I push past Chip to get to the door but Nick’s cold voice stops me. “What is it you want from us?”

Hand on the door; I wait for Chip’s response. It’s as disgusting and chilling as I expect.

“I don’t know yet. What are you offering?”

I spin around before Nick can say a word. I don’t want him bargaining with the devil. “Why should he offer you squat? He’s the starting quarterback. You’re just a coach. You’re replaceable.”

As a look of menace passes over his face, I realize of all the stupid things I could’ve said, that was probably the worst. I struck deep at the core of his own insecurities and raised them in front of Nick. It’s unforgivable.

Nick strides over to join me at the door, ripping it open. “Get out. You can tell Coach whatever you want. We both know nothing’s going to happen to me.”

Chip’s lip curls up. “Only while you’re winning.”

“Then I’ll just have to avoid losing.”

“Good luck with that,” Chip sneers.

“When the season is over, I’ll see your ass out the door.”

Chip’s lost this round. He glares at me as he exits, hissing out a low warning. “This doesn’t end here.”

“Yeah, it does.” Nick grabs Chip’s collar and pushes him out the door, slamming it shut. He turns and gives me a look filled with simmering anger. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

There’s no point in continuing to hide my past. Chip’s going to tell me later. I stick my chin out. “I slept with Chip a few years ago, and he thinks I’m a skank.”

A look of disgust passes behind his eyes. The elevator bell dings, signaling Chip’s departure; and mine as well. “I have a flight to catch,” I say.

For once, there’s no argument. No request for me to stay and watch the game tomorrow. Nick slowly releases the door. “I’ll call you.”

“Sure.”

I let the door close behind me. The long hallway stretches out endlessly, silent, narrow and empty. I fumble for my phone and call Charlie. I don’t know when Chip plans to spill the beans, but I have to tell my friends as much of the truth as I can.

“I left Dallas because Chip blackmailed me,” I say the minute she answers.

Charlie gasps. “Chip, the quarterback coach?”

“Yes.” I press the down button. While I’m waiting for the elevator, I proceed to tell her everything. “When I was fifteen, I made this friend online. It’s stupid but I fell for him. He was sweet, funny, and didn’t care that I was a girl playing a boy’s game. We usually only communicated via text, but as time went on, we started talking to each other over the headset. But then something bad happened to his family, and he started changing. He was barely ever online, and when he was, he was angry and sad. I tried to be there for him.”

“And this was Chip?” she asks.

“No.” The elevator car arrives and the doors slide open. I step inside and press the lobby button. “It was someone I loved, but whatever happened in his life changed this boy. One day he comes home and the console gets turned on. I think we’re starting up a new game, but he’s not playing. I hear voices in the background.”

“Oh no. You heard him with a girl?” she guesses correctly.

“Yeah. They must’ve rolled over a remote or hit the right button during their…shenanigans.” The memory of the sickness that churned in my stomach is still acute. The deed took nearly thirty minutes, and I swear he made her come at least three times. “But it wasn’t listening to him make love to this other girl that killed me. It was what he’d said after.”

“Which was?” she asks softly. I hear a rustling on the other end and imagine her settling into the corner of the sofa. It’s a comforting sound.

“Which was her asking him about the game he was playing. It must’ve been on the screen, and they just noticed. He said it was nothing, just a way to pass the time until she was around. And then he turned the game off.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, but really, what did I expect? We weren’t anything but bits and bytes on a computer drive.” I dig a knuckle into my eye. “Anyway, it’s not about that guy. It’s that I felt vulnerable and lonely and wanted someone special.”

“And you thought Chip was that someone?”

The elevator comes to a halt, and I step out into cool air of the lobby. Outside, the valet calls for a cab. I wait for the cabbie to arrive before I continue. “I was sixteen when I met Chip. When I slept with him for the first time. When he started giving me drugs.”

“Oh my God, Lainey.”

“I…I know it was stupid, but whatever he asked me to do, I did.” I lean my head against the window and stare unseeingly at the passing landscape as the taxi motors toward the airport.

“You were so young.”

“And stupid. Don’t forget stupid.”

“Chip took advantage of you,” she says firmly.

“No, I wanted it. Or at least I wanted the intimacy. The feeling that I was someone special to him.” Like that other girl had been to that boy. Like I thought I had been to that boy.

Charlie grows silent and I can almost hear her brain putting two and two together. “So Chip…he’s the father?”

“Yes.” It’s easier to admit that I thought it’d be.

Charlie clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “He’s such an asshole. Does he have any contact with Cassidy? I’ve never seen him near her.”

“No, I don’t want him near her,” I say fiercely. “He’s poison, Charlie. He’d fill her head with the most hateful lies, and he certainly doesn’t love her.”

“But you have full custody right?”

“Not legally. We’ve never been to court.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “And he’s threatening you, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He has pictures. Evidence of terrible things I’ve done.”

“Things you did when you were underage,” she shoots back. “He’s just as culpable.”

“He didn’t know. I never told him. I pretended to be eighteen.”

Charlie curses. “He knew, though. He knew.”

“Maybe he did.” I sort of agreed with Charlie. Chip liked to prey on young girls—ones who idolized him and were too scared to do anything but scuttle away passively when he was done using them. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t have pictures of him. I don’t have any proof.”

“Except for his DNA.”

“And I took money in exchange for not putting him on the birth certificate. For not challenging him. Just telling you about it probably violates at least five different clauses in the agreement.” The one he had me sign in that cold lawyer’s office while Cassie was still in my tummy.

“Shit, honey. So what now? Do you want me to hire a lawyer so we can take Chip to court? Because I’d love that. It’d probably be the best money I’ve ever spent.”

“No. I’m telling you, though, because I’m done. I’m done being afraid of him. If he comes after me, then maybe I’ll take you up on the offer.”

“But you think he won’t,” she concludes.

“I’m hoping.” Because I don’t want that public fight. But I guess I’ll do it if it means I don’t have to live under a Chip sized cloud for the rest of my life.

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Nine appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Eight

Lainey

Six weeks later, another hotel room, and Nick’s last regular season game has arrived. He took me the minute he arrived in the room, right up against the door with all of our clothes on.

The second time was in the bathroom as he tried to pound me through the tile. I might have bruises tomorrow in the pattern of the grout lines.

We’ve settled into a strange routine. Nick sends me tickets to every away game and a post it note with the name of the hotel he’s staying at. A room key is waiting for me at the front desk. He always gets a suite. Sometimes we have sex, but sometimes we don’t.

The stress of the season is getting to him. With each win, he seems to wind tighter and tighter. The last time we were together, he was almost cruel during our lovemaking, as if he was trying to pound all his fears and anxiety out on my body. But I take it, and him, because I’ve come to acknowledge that I love him.

I hide that knowledge as best I can. He doesn’t welcome it. Despite our physical closeness, there’s a distance between us now that is growing with each encounter. It’s almost as if he hates that I’m here, hates that he needs me.

“I was talking to Charlie before I flew out and she was saying how much she missed Cassidy. You haven’t seen much of her?”

Or maybe he hates the secrecy.

“I only go into Dallas on the rare occasion; otherwise, I wouldn’t have time for this.” I make a small wave toward the room with my hairbrush.

He looks up from his bag of unbuttered popcorn. “You can’t bring Cassidy with you to see Charlie?”

“She’s in school,” I say, dragging the brush through my hair.

He snorts. “If you say so.”

I slam the brush down. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think it’s pretty clear that you don’t want anyone to know about us. That means no trips to Dallas with Cassidy, no bringing her here to see the game, even though she loves being around the team, and no telling Charlie where you’re sneaking off to.”

“Like you’re in a hurry to tell Charlie that you’re sneaking me into a hotel room under an assumed name for every road game like I’m some traveling rent-a-pussy!” I regret the words the minute they leave my mouth.

“Jesus,” Nick breathes. “Is that how you feel?”

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry.” With a shaking hand, I pick up the brush again and slowly start to pull it down my scalp. “Things are stressful at home. I shouldn’t have said that, and I don’t feel that way.”

He stares at me before asking. “Then if you don’t feel that way, why don’t you come to Dallas next week? If we win tomorrow, there’s a first round bye in my future.”

I want to say yes, but I can’t. Every time I meet up with Nick, I’m terrified Chip is going to see me. If I go to a game and sit with the family members, I know word would get back to him. And then everything I’ve sacrificed will be for nothing.

But I see challenge in his eyes. Either I come to Dallas next week or it’s over. I get to my feet and start packing my things.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He runs a ragged hand through his hair. “It looks like you’re leaving.”

“Aren’t my choices either come to Dallas next weekend with Cassidy or we’re done?” I’m surprised at how even my voice is, how I’m not completely breaking down.

His nostrils flare and the big hands that hold me so tenderly are fists at his side. I watch as a muscle in his jaw flexes. When he says nothing, I finish gathering my things.

At the door, I turn back. “You’re going to win this year. I feel it in my bones. You care about your teammates. I know you’d die for them out on that field.”

“Wanting things doesn’t make them happen,” he grinds out.

“No, but you’ve been training and practicing and studying for these moments. It’s not like you’re going out on that field with nothing but wishes and hopes.” I wait at the door for one breath and then two.

His lips part. His chest rises. I think he’s going to say something—

A knock at the door startles the both of us. Nick strides over and whips open the door.

And my heart stops.

Chip has his hand raised as if he’s about to knock again. His eyes dart from me to my bag and back to Nick who’s wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt and no socks. Nick’s damn naked feet give us away.

Chip’s eyes light up with unholy glee.

“What do you want?” Nick barks out.

“Having a little tryst are you?” Chip says, shoving one hand into a pocket. The other is folded around a DVD case. “Coach wanted me to run some film by you before the game tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Nick says flatly. He holds out his hand but Chip makes no move to hand over the film.

“You know it’s against the rules to be in any other room than your own,” Chip says mildly.

“Lainey is—“

“I’m a—“

“I know what you are,” Chip sneers.

Nick turns to me with confusion on his face. “Do you know Chip?”

My heart is beating so loud and fast it’s a wonder I can hear anything other than the riotous pulse of my own blood. Dimly, I stare at Chip, wondering what he’s going to say. I’ve broken my end of the bargain, and he’s going to make me pay.

The only question is how.

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Eight appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Series Bundle Deal at Amazon

Taking Control and Losing Control are now on sale at Amazon as a bundle. Get both books today for only $3.20!

 

Purchase here!

  

 

 

The post Series Bundle Deal at Amazon appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Seven

 

Lainey

It’s half past eight before Nick arrives. When the knock sounds against the door, I’m sitting on the down cushions of the couch, watching, but not really registering, the news. It’s an unusually cold winter here on the West Coast. Or so says the meteorologist. It might rain tomorrow. It will definitely be chilly. I rub my hands briskly over my arms to chase away the sudden prickle of goosebumps.

It’s strange to be set up in a hotel room by a man. Even when I fooled around with Chip back when I was a stupid teenager, this sort of thing didn’t happen. We’d make out in his car or he’d get a cheap hotel room in a part of town where he didn’t think he’d be recognized.

The room Nick reserved for me is nearly on the top floor, and it has two rooms. The bedroom is separated from the living room by a wall that has two doorways, one on either side. There aren’t any doors so the half-wall provides only an illusion of privacy. But I’m not here to hide in the bedroom. I’m here to have sex with Nick. That’s why I flew three and a half hours. That’s also why my palms are sweaty and my knees are a tad wobbly by the time I twist the latch.

“Hey,” I say softly, as I open the door.

He gives me a tired smile. There are tight lines around his eyes, and a tenseness in his shoulders that he gets when he’s stressed out. One hand is braced on either side of the doorframe as if he’s not sure if he should come in. His own uncertainty actually works wonders on my self-confidence.

“Get in here.” I grab the middle of his crisp white shirt and drag him inside. “Did you have a team dinner?” I ask, as I push him onto the couch. He’s suited up, looking impossibly gorgeous in a dark blue, custom tailored jacket and pants. His tie is nowhere to be found.

He settles in without argument, spreading his arms wide across the back of the couch. “I had an interview and figured I should dress up for it.”

“You look…unhappy. Did the interview go poorly?”

At first, I can see he wants to protest and deny that anything is bothering him but I give him The Look. The one I pin on Cassidy when she’s naughty. He caves, just as Cassidy does; although, I think he gives in because he’s exhausted. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the edge of the couch. “Any vodka in the mini bar?”

I walk over and flip it open. “Choices are Absolut and Belvedere.”

“I don’t care. You pick.”

I twist off the top of one tiny bottle and pour it in a glass, topping it off with two ice cubes I fish out of my water glass with a fork.

“Bad day at work, honey?” I joke lightly, as I place the glass in his hand. He doesn’t even open his eyes as he drains the glass.

“I’ll take the second bottle,” he says.

“Coming right up.”

“I should apologize for making you fetch and carry for me but I’m enjoying it too much,” he says, as I return to the mini bar to mix up the last bottle of vodka. This time when I hand him the glass, he pulls me down onto his lap. “Thank you, babe.”

“I don’t mind.” I tuck my head against his shoulder and make circles with my finger across his broad chest. “Want to talk about it?”

“We should be naked by now,” he says, instead of answering my question. Or maybe that is the answer. “But instead, I’m drinking mini-bar liquor, and you’re wondering why the hell you flew all the way out here.”

“Talk to me, Nick. I’m your friend, right?”

He heaves a long sigh and then drops a kiss on my head before speaking. “I hate admitting this but the season is getting to me. Last year, every win was a victory. No one expected much but this year, eleven weeks into the season and we’re on the brink of clinching a playoff berth. Once the game starts, I’ll be fine, but there’s a lot of pressure.”

“And you wish you were above that,” I guess.

“Bingo.” The ice cubes clink as he lifts the glass to his mouth.

I can feel the tension in every bone in his body—from the tight grip he has on my hip to the stiffness in his frame. He wants to relax, but his mind is going a hundred miles a minute, envisioning every possible outcome on Sunday. Coming to a decision, I wriggle out of his lap.

His eyes flick open, giving me a sexy half-lidded look.

“Finish your drink,” I order. “Then I’m giving you a massage, and we’re going to watch a movie.”

“You’re not here for that,” he says flatly. The corners of his mouth turn down in a frown.

“I’m here for two more nights,” I remind him, as I reach down and slip off his shoes.

“You know I can’t have sex on Saturday night before the game, right?”

It’s a good thing my head is down so he can’t see me roll my eyes. “Yes, Nick. I know this.” I tuck his socks inside his shoes before starting on his shirt. “I also know that I can go long periods of time without sex. What about you?”

His hand rises to cup my hip, the long fingers of his hand reaching around to press into the swell of my butt. My body throbs in response to his light touch.

“I can go without sex but it’s hard around you. Shit, baby, you’re so fine.” His other hand reaches up to sweep away the curtain of my hair that has fallen forward.

As my fingers work downward on the buttons, I can see that while his mind might be tired, his body isn’t too fatigued to respond. An erection juts impressively against the dark wool of his slacks.

“Massage, movie, rest,” I order, and pull his shirt of out his pants.

He leans forward, ostensibly to help me remove his shirt, but it also conveniently places his face right between my breasts.

“I’m suddenly feeling worked up about something that has nothing to do with football,” he murmurs into the soft skin. His hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck and with steady pressure, he urges my lips to his.

The kiss is soft and tender, with a firmness that excites me. His tongue sweeps across the seam of my mouth and then invades with gentle force. Heat floods my core. I let go of the shirt to rest my hands against his shoulders, balancing myself against his big body while his hands hold me aloft.

It’d be easy to sink into this embrace, have sex, and send him on his way in the morning, but tonight I want something different. I want to show him that we can be together, at least for this small amount of time, doing something other than fighting or fucking.

As I draw away, he grunts his dissatisfaction. “Where’re you going?”

“Massage first,” I remind him.

He frowns adorably. “But I want—”

I press a finger against his lips. “Lie down and let me take care of you. Just for tonight, okay?”

He searches my face, probably wondering if there is some secondary motivation. As if I could ever not want him. Whatever he sees there—my concern, my genuine desire for him to be happy, my banked lust—satisfies his unspoken question.

“Just for tonight,” he agrees.

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Seven appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Six

Nick

“On Sunday, we have the opportunity to clinch a playoff berth. We win on Sunday and we get a chance to secure a home game in the post season. I know all of you would rather sleep in your own beds, eat at your favorite places, and be with your families. That reward is out there for you if you want it bad enough; which means no distractions. No women, no children, no mothers, no fathers, no friends are more important than the men that sit to your right and to your left. You owe them your full and complete dedication to this game. We may be away from home, but we are not on vacation. Stay focused. Stay hungry. Today is the first step in achieving the goal we started the season with—the championship.”

Coach caps his speech off by raising his fist in the air—the one that would hold the ring we’re all chasing. Every athlete in the room stares at the imaginary right and holds their breath. The right to be called champions is what we’re all chasing, why we make all these sacrifices—missing our families, pushing our bodies beyond natural limits. It’s not for the money; it’s for the rush of winning.

When the phone in my pocket buzzes, I don’t sneak a peak, even though an hour ago, when the team meeting started, I was chafing over the lack of response from Lainey.

Is she a distraction? Did I make a mistake in inviting her here? It’s a risk, meeting her on the road. I had to book another room since I share mine with Mossy, my backup, and unlike some other guys, I like my privacy when I’m fucking.

It’s not like I’m the only one who’s getting some on the road, though. Plenty of guys do it, including the married ones. They hang out on Instagram, liking model’s pics or posting a vid on Snapchat announcing where they’ll be. There’s not a guy on the team whose inbox isn’t flooded with dirty messages or dirty pics or both. So I’m definitely not the only guy who made arrangements for some downtime.

“You coming, Jackson?” Moss nudges my arm, jerking me out of my reverie. I look up to see Beaman, Cracker, and Julio waiting for me. The room is already half empty. “Chowtime,” Mossy grins and taps his watch.

See? Already distracted. That’s not a good sign.

“Yeah, let me grab my stuff.” I pick up my playbook and shove it in my backpack. On my way out of the conference room that serves as the temporary meeting place for the team, I toss the empty bottle of water in the trash and then give in to the urge to look at my phone.

Miss you. Hope you are eating and sleeping well.

It’s Charlie. My stomach churns, and I’m not sure whether it’s due to the fact that Lainey hasn’t texted me or dreading when she does.

 

Lainey

“May I help you?” says the cheery lady at the counter. Her long brown hair is swept up in a tight bun at the top of her head, but even the unattractive style doesn’t diminish the girl’s prettiness. I wonder how many of the players that checked in yesterday hit on her.

“I’m checking in.” I lay my driver’s license and credit card on the counter.

“Under Elaina Valdez?” she chirps. At my nod, she asks, “Do you want me to replace the credit card already attached to the file?”

“Yes, please.” This whole trip is more than I can afford, but it feels weird and wrong to be here on Nick’s dollar. He gave me a free ticket to the game—four actually. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the other three.

Maybe he intended for me to invite Reese and Charlie? If he did, he didn’t think that all the way through. We don’t want to involve our friends in this any more than they already are. I hate putting Charlie in the middle of whatever it is Nick and I have going on. Because as much as I want Nick’s body, we fight too much to make this anything more than a casual, completely physical relationship.

Which is why meeting in secret while he’s on the road makes perfect sense. If only it wasn’t so costly. At least my new job with Charlie is helping me ease the burden. And I did share with her that I was coming out to Cali. She was thrilled because going on the Internet and searching message boards in order to find the best schools, local businesses, and places to live isn’t the same thing as checking them out in person.

So while Nick is busy with football stuff, I won’t be in the room twiddling my thumbs and waiting for him to show up.

“Do you need one key or two?” The clerk asks after she’s done swiping my card.

I think for a moment. Nick’s going to want his own key, right? Or does that give him too much access? Like, if this were a Tinder date, I wouldn’t give him a key. I’d make him knock each time. Then again, I don’t want Nick being seen knocking on a hotel room door. That would stir up gossip he doesn’t need.

The clerk blinks at me, patiently waiting for a response.

“Two,” I tell her.

“Of course,” she replies smoothly, without commenting on how long it took to make up my mind about one simple thing.

I rub my forehead. I’m tied up in knots, and I haven’t even seen Nick. On the bright side, the sex should unwind me. At least I hope so.

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Six appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Broken Prince Release Day

Today is Broken Prince’s release day! Be sure and pick up your copy of The Royals today.

 

These Royals will ruin you…

From wharf fights and school brawls to crumbling lives inside glittery mansions, one guy tries to save himself.

Reed Royal has it all—looks, status, money. The girls at his elite prep school line up to date him, the guys want to be him, but Reed never gave a damn about anyone but his family until Ella Harper walked into his life.

What started off as burning resentment and the need to make his father’s new ward suffer turned into something else entirely—keep Ella close. Keep Ella safe. But when one foolish mistake drives her out of Reed’s arms and brings chaos to the Royal household, Reed’s entire world begins to fall apart around him.

Ella doesn’t want him anymore. She says they’ll only destroy each other.

She might be right.

Secrets. Betrayal. Enemies. It’s like nothing Reed has ever dealt with before, and if he’s going to win back his princess, he’ll need to prove himself Royally worthy.

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The post Broken Prince Release Day appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.