Cam

 

It was a damn good thing I didn’t see Reese much for the rest of the day.

When we’d landed in Miami, we were immediately shuttled to the practice gym where we stayed for the next three or so hours. Reese had been there, working with some of the players who had aches and pains, but I made it a point to avoid her. We’d made eye contact a few times, but quickly glanced away.

We both had jobs to do and mine required concentration on the game.

Not on my dick.

And even though the whole team had stayed on the same floor of the same hotel, I hadn’t seen her at all last night. Coach had kept us all sequestered in two adjoining rooms, watching game film and reviewing scouting reports, assessing the competition for today’s game. I hadn’t had so much as a glimpse of her face.

Even though I knew her room number. 218.

The one room I wouldn’t go anywhere near.

Even though I had a feeling it would be like opening the door of the wardrobe from The Chronicles of Narnia. Wonderful, fantastical things happened when you walked through it.

Today was the first day of the Miami Invitational and the team had just arrived at the stadium complex. We came early to watch the games before our early afternoon tip-off against the team we lost to in last year’s National Championship Tournament. So, yeah, we had a bone to pick with them.

But that wasn’t what had my senses on high alert. That was due to the fact that they were also here. Probably already somewhere in the building.

Belvedere. The BelV Wolverines.

Or as I preferred to call them, the BelV Bastards.

Well, one bastard in particular. Warren had just better keep his distance. That was all I had to say.

We entered the main arena through one of the team tunnels to the sounds of bouncing balls, squeaking tennis shoes, and some new hip-hop song blaring over the speakers. A new game was starting and the teams were getting warmed up.

Our team followed Coach Bradley down the sidelines in front of the crowded stands to find enough empty seats for all of us. I waved and smiled when I heard spectators shouting out my name. Fans flashing their Donovan number sixteen NCU jerseys at me. I spotted Reese toward the front of the line, walking behind her dad and the assistant coaches. It took everything I had in me not to lean around Boyd’s body in front of me just to get a better look at her ass. She was wearing some kind of pencil skirt thing that I swear to God had my mouth literally watering when I’d first laid eyes on her.

Shit. Focus, dumbass.

We reached a less packed part of the stands, and Coach turned to walk up the steps to grab us seats, everyone following dutifully. Then I saw them.

That red and black. The image of a Wolverine on their warm-ups.

BelV.

And wouldn’t you know it? The first face I spotted in that sea of dickwads was Trey Warren himself. He was a big guy, with broad shoulders, cut arms, and a thick torso. Tattoo sleeves down both arms. Jet black hair that always had some sort of design shaved into the sides.

And the asshole had the nerve to smile at me. What a prick.

I watched as he quickly took stock of me, probably sizing me up to see if I’d bulked up any since last year. There’d been an intense competition between us even when we were kids. His father had encouraged it more than anything. Always pushing Trey to be as good of a player as me, convincing him that he could never do enough, accomplish enough. Even back then, I’d sensed that Trey hadn’t cared as much about besting me as he did about making his dad happy.

I’d known all of this because we used to be best friends.

Yep. Practically brothers once upon a time. Inseparable.

But I didn’t like to think about any of that.

I saw his eyes suddenly dart away from mine and focus on something toward the front of our line, narrowing in speculation. “Reese Bradley?” I heard him ask. “Is that you?”

Every muscle in my body tensed.

What the— They knew each other?

How? When? Did they—

No. There was no fucking way. I couldn’t let my mind run wild like that.

“Hello, Trey.”

I barely heard her over all the noise. Her voice sounded weird, like she was uncomfortable. There definitely wasn’t any emotion there. In fact, it sounded like the exact opposite. Like she was making considerable effort to remain polite.

But Warren wasn’t looking so uncomfortable. In fact, he was looking pretty damn chipper all of a sudden. There was a gleam of interest—pleasure, even—in his gaze that wasn’t hard to decipher. I recognized it because it was how I usually looked at Reese. It was the type of reaction she incited in any straight man within a one hundred mile radius.

I did not like it. Not. At. All.

And how the hell did they know each other?

“You’re at NCU now?” he asked, his tone hinting at displeasure. Mixed with curiosity. “I hadn’t heard that.”

Why the fuck would he have heard it?

I watched her closely as she kept turning her head from side-to-side, looking for all the world like she wanted to be anywhere but there. She was definitely agitated, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had caused the sudden mood shift.

Okay, so she didn’t like being around Warren.

Now the question was, why?

What had happened between them? Shit, I hoped nothing. I prayed her reaction was simply because she didn’t appreciate him leering at her, which he was so obviously doing.

“Um, yeah,” she muttered. “Finishing up my PT degree.”

One dark eyebrow flew up his forehead. “So, you’re the team trainer?” He rubbed a tattooed hand over his jaw. “Interesting.”

“Nope. Not that interesting at all.”

She inched further up the steps to the empty seats. Hell, a blind man could have seen how desperate she was to get away from the tool.

Warren turned his gaze to her ass as she walked away, craning his neck to get a better view. This was in front of all the guys on both teams, most of whom had been watching the awkward exchange. Not that he seemed to care if anyone saw him checking her out.

Boyd let out a low whistle in front of me. “Well, that was…weird.”

That was putting it mildly.

I couldn’t wipe the glare off my face if I tried. Unfortunately, Warren turned his head right at that moment, connecting eyes with me, taking in my pissed off expression. His brow furrowed and he glanced back at Reese. Without thinking, my gaze followed his, landing right on her as she settled herself into a seat. His eyes flew back to me, but mine weren’t quite quick enough. He saw how I’d looked at her. All possessive. Like I’d called dibs on her and I’d beat the shit out of any man who touched her.

He grinned from ear to ear.

Oh yeah, he’d most definitely seen that. And now he was looking like he had a million ideas swarming around in his head. Son of a bitch. I couldn’t deal with this today. Or ever. I heard the Lancaster brothers’ grumblings behind me as we ascended the stairs, heading closer to the BelV players. They didn’t like Warren and his cronies any more than I did.

I made eye contact and attempted to be civil—I deserved a freaking medal—by nodding my head. “Warren.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Hey there, Donovan.” He snapped his fingers and smacked one of his friends on the shoulder. “I mean, Your Highness. Bow down, boys. You’re in the presence of royalty.” They all snickered like a bunch of old women playing bridge at tea time.

I didn’t acknowledge them. “You need to come up with some new material, Warren. Your so-called quips are as weak as your scoring average.”

Boyd, Colt, and Jesse flanked me, chuckling in support. The three of them never failed to have my back.

Warren’s face showed no reaction to my barb. But I knew him too well and noticed when he started white knuckling the cell phone in his hand.

“Well, I saw your game against Penn U last week and I’d say you’re looking a little tired there, Donovan.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe it’s you who should be getting some new material.”

What the fuck ever. I’d scored twenty points in that game. And sure, my rebound game had been a little off, but it wasn’t weak. Or tired.

“I’d love to stay and continue this precious bromance moment we’ve got going on here,” I said, letting the sarcasm flow freely, “but I should really get going. Let’s reschedule, though, okay?”

Warren’s eyes lit up. He twisted his upper body around, craning his neck again in Reese’s direction. He turned back to me with a knowing, devious expression. “I see you guys got some new blood this year.” He snorted. “Funny that.”

I knew I shouldn’t ask. Damn it, I knew it. But did that stop me? Nope. Not one bit.

“What’s funny?” I grated out.

He leaned back in his seat and propped his foot on the chair in front of him. “Oh, me and Reese go way back. We have a…history. I was just surprised to see her here, that’s all. It must be fate.”

Even though my temper was simmering—dangerously close to boiling over—I masked it and sighed in feigned boredom. “And I give a shit, why?”

For just one second he looked uncertain. Then, of course, my eyes unwillingly flicked back to Reese again. It was literally a microsecond, practically an involuntary spasm of my eyeballs. But it was enough for Warren to apparently determine I was bullshitting him.

“No particular reason,” he replied nonchalantly. “Just that old saying about history sometimes repeating itself. I think it might apply here.”

The hell it did.

It never would.

Although I didn’t have a clue what he meant by history. That could mean any number of things. But Reese’s reaction to him told me that it was more personal. If I acknowledged any of this, though, or let him know how insane his words were making me, he would have the upper hand. Ammunition. And he might just use it to go after Reese for real if he saw how much it bothered me.

“You know, Warren. I can remember a time when you weren’t the biggest asshole on the planet. So, trust me when I say that history never repeats itself.”

I walked away to the sight of his lips thinning and a scowl forming. Ha. You were affected by that one, weren’t you, dickhead?

I climbed the rest of the steps and stomped over to one of the empty seats at the end of a row. Reese sat off by herself a few rows in front of me, more empty chairs between us. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she felt the laser beams I was burning into the back of her head. I knew I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t find out what exactly had gone down between her and Warren. I now had a single-minded focus on obtaining that one vital piece of information but could do nothing about it.

Or could I?

“You good, man?” Jesse asked from beside me.

I think I nodded, but I was so zoned in on Reese there was no way to be sure.

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Forget, Warren. You know him. It’s the same old shit every year. Just gotta block it out.”

“I can handle him.”

He clearly heard something in my voice and decided to leave it alone. Smart man. I sat there for several minutes, tapping my fingers against my leg, my knee bouncing up and down, not paying attention to anything else in that arena except her. Whether or not I should confront her. I had no right to ask my questions. And I’d be breaking my own rule to keep my distance from her. My future with this team basically depended on it.

But I had to know.

Because if she’d once belonged to Warren—my all-time archenemy—if she’d once been his girl…

I really wasn’t sure how I’d handle that.

But it would certainly give me a whole new reason to hate him.

Fuck it.

I climbed over the rows separating us and fell into the seat right behind her.