Free Fourth Down and Dirty: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Kristen Flowers Page A

insulted
me. She was so angry. I started to wonder if I should send her a message with
an apology. Did I need to apologize to her? Did I actually do anything wrong?
Did she even have a reason to feel the way she did? The more I questioned
myself, the more I actually started to get angry. At first I was trying to
force some kind of anger, but now that I was actually thinking of apologizing for doing nothing wrong, it was
too much.

 
    It was already a problem
that she had managed to screw me up at practice, especially so close to the big
homecoming game. But now she had me thinking of doing something totally out of
character. I hopped out of the shower, toweled off, and changed into the first
pair of jeans and a t-shirt before getting into my car and quickly making my
way to the Tutoring Center.

 
    After parking in a
conveniently free spot, I jumped out of my car just in time to see Ivy walking
out of the building. She didn’t see me as she turned to walk in the opposite
direction. I jogged to catch up to her. As soon as I could reach her I pulled
her into an alcove for a stairwell that lead down into the building’s basement.

 
    “What do you think
you’re doing?” she demanded as soon as her eyes locked onto mine. I had never
seen such anger in her eyes, not even when she called me an asshole. Her
scathing look probably had a lot to do with me scaring her when I tugged her
toward the stairs.

 
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I spat back.
“You think you can just insult me the way you did and I won’t have a damn thing
to say about it?”

 
    She took a step
back, but not before jabbing her finger in to my chest, “You think you can stop
me?”

 
    “Yes,” I shot
back. She took another step back and I quickly realized I needed to explain
further. “Every assumption you’ve made about me is wrong. You think I’m dumb,
don’t you? But look,” I said, lowering my gaze and taking a step forward to
close the distance she created between us. Her breath hitched in her throat and
she stared at me. “One thing’s for sure–I’m smart enough to see you want me.” I
paused, waiting for her to object, but she said nothing. I took another step
forward. She didn’t move an inch. I stared into her eyes until I saw her gaze
soften for a brief moment, even though it was clear she was trying to hold
strong. “Badly,” I muttered, gaze lowering to her lips.

 
    That was all it
took for me to close the space between us. I pressed her back up against the
bricks as my lips landed against hers. She gave in immediately, placing her
hands on my chest and leaning in. There was no way she could ever deny being
attracted to me now. My hands wandered up and down her sides until I slipped
them under her shirt, sliding them up her smooth stomach and dangerously close
to her breasts.  

 
    In a flash, she
pulled herself away and tugged her shirt back down with a pouty oomph before
looking up at me. “You are an asshole,” she hissed, a stark difference from the
person she was a second ago when I was kissing her.

 
      “You may be a hot asshole and a really great
kisser but,” she pressed her hand flat on my stomach to push me away, “I won’t
be just another story of yours in the locker room.”

 

I was studying on
the back porch under the shade of my favorite tree. It was the afternoon and my
mother was sleeping soundly. Out of nowhere, my phone buzzed and I quickly
picked it up off the table to check who it was. The Tutoring Center was calling
me. I was instantly thrown into a panic.

 
    The Tutoring
Center rarely called, especially on my day off. I couldn’t think of any loose
ends I left for them to call and ask about. There was only one thing I could
think of and it made my stomach drop. I knew Stella would never tell anyone
about Landon and I, but maybe there was security camera footage from the
stairwell or something.

 
    I answered before
the call was sent to voicemail.