Clipped by Love (Bellevue Bullies #2) (28 page)

I hate Seth’s name. With a passion in my soul.

Ignoring it though, I let out an annoyed breath. I hate explaining myself. “That I was drunk and he said my mom didn’t want me? I think that deserves getting hit, just saying,” I add, but I sure don’t tell them that I pushed him again because he was frustrating me.

And turning me on…

Ugh. I need Jesus.

“Maybe y’all need to just do it?” Mandie suggests, causing my brow to go up.

“What?”

“Maybe there is so much sexual tension between you two that it won’t stop until y’all do it,” she says, and I laugh.

“I am not having sex with him,” I say very sharply. “I’d rather take a puck to the mouth.”

“You’re such a liar!”

I am.

“No! It’s true. He is the slime on my shoe, the pain in my ass. I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”

If I don’t tear his clothes off and hump his face.

No, whoa, did I just think that? Shit.

They laugh before Mandie says, “Murder is a sign of true love.”

“Or insanity,” I suggest, and they both scoff at me as my door opens.

“Bay, let’s go,” Dad says, popping his head in. “We are running late.”

“Yeah, coming,” I say, getting out of my chair and grabbing my shoes. “Okay, this has been real, but I gotta go.”

“Where you off to?” Delanie asks.

“Team-building exercise. We are gonna run up a hill.”

“Because nothing says team like running,” Delanie says, and I agree.

“For sure,” I mumble since running is my least favorite thing to do.

“Well, have fun,” she says.

“And maybe try talking to Jayden,” Mandie says, and I roll my eyes. “You never know.”

“Never know what? It isn’t like we are gonna get together and be happy.”

“Why not?” she asks incredulously. “It could be good for you.”

“Because he is my enemy. He wants what I want, and I refuse to give it to him.”

“Oh my God, you are insane,” she says and I scoff.

“Been called worse,” I say, reaching for the door and going out. “Nice talk, kinda, but I’ll talk to you ladies later.”

“Oh, Baylor!”

I pause. “Yeah?”

“Happy birthday!” they say, and then they are singing to me. I grin as my heart explodes in my chest. Not too many people have ever wished me happy birthday other than my dad. I know that’s sad, but people really don’t notice anything about me but my hockey abilities.

“We wish we could have come down to party for your twenty-first, but we got you on break!” Delanie says and I grin.

“I can’t wait.”

And I can’t. It’ll probably be a highlight for me, and Lord knows it’s the only thing I’m looking forward to.

We say our goodbyes just as I reach my dad’s truck and get in. I slam the door, and he looks over at me as he starts it. “Delanie and Mandie?”

I nod. “Yup.”

“Miss ’em, eh?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I’m lonely here.”

“Make friends,” he suggests, but I shake my head. “Maybe then you wouldn’t be sitting in the house alone while the boys are having a back-to-school party.”

“Don’t have time for that.”

“You could go. It is your birthday. Go get wild.”

“But I won’t. I need my sleep. Can’t be a winner when I’m drunk,” I say and he grins.

“Too driven,” he mumbles, and I laugh.

“You made me this way,” I sing and he shrugs.

“Maybe.”

But we both know there is no maybe about it.

I am my father’s daughter.

When we get to the running trail, most of the guys have already arrived. Dad pulls into the parking lot and then glances at the time. “They’ve got five minutes.”

“Are you kicking people off for this?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Dad doesn’t like lateness; it’s one of his biggest pet peeves. But thankfully, once we get out of the car, more cars are pulling up, guys unloading and gathering around, waiting on instruction. Crossing my arms over my chest, I wait for my dad to start when all of a sudden I feel him near me. Looking to my left, I find him there, matching my stance with Jace beside him, doing the same.

The damn Wonder Twins, ladies and gentlemen.

Just the sight of his perfectly chiseled jaw pisses me off, so I let out an annoyed breath, and when he smiles, I want to kick him.

“Nice shorts there, Moore.”

“Yeah?” I ask, looking down at my shorts. They may be shorter than normal, but they are my favorite running shorts. Looking at his shorts, I can see his are short too, classic dude running shorts.

As I meet his gaze, his grin grows. “Yeah.”

“You can borrow ’em anytime, just let me know,” I say, blinking innocently, and his grin only grows more.

“You are hell-bent on being a bitch, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “I don’t like you.”

“You lie,” he says automatically. When he leans in, I lean back, but it doesn’t stop him from saying, “You like me a lot.”

Breathless, I say, “You know, you’re right. I do like you.”

Satisfied, he nods. But before he can add anything, I say, “Like I love going to the OB/GYN, or maybe getting an enema, or even getting an ingrown toenail picked out. Yeah, I like you bunches.”

I flash him a big grin just as my dad blows his whistle. “All right, boys and Moore,” he says like always, and I direct my attention to him, a little grin on my face.

I won that.

“Today for our team-building exercise, we are gonna run this five-mile course.”

Immediately people are groaning. Apparently, I’m not the only one who hates to run. He blows his whistle, and everyone snaps their mouths shut as Dad goes on, “I believe that running is not only great for your endurance but also it’s good for building a team. The whole no person left behind is something I live by. Push your brothers and sister, help them to finish, and remember this isn’t a race.”

Dad may say that, but when I glance up at Jayden, I see it in his eyes.

This is a race.

And he’s going down.

“We are to finish as a team. Don’t let me see someone finish by themselves,” he says and everyone nods. Blowing his whistle, he waves us off. “And go!”

I meet Jayden’s gaze, and then we are glaring at each other as we start to walk with the team to the start of the trail.

“Wager?”

I scoff. “You mean, what you’re gonna give me when I win?”

He nods at me before sarcastically saying, “Oh yeah, sure.”

“You’re carrying an extra fifty pounds easy. You can’t beat me.”

“Try me, princess.”

Glaring, because I’ve decided that is the most degrading thing he can call me, I say, “Fine, I win, you gotta buy me a big bottle of mustard for the house.”

Scrunching his face up in a perplexed look, he says, “Mustard?”

“Yes, it’s a favorite.”

He shakes his head. “Fine, but thankfully, I won’t have to give up the five bucks. But you will have to admit one thing to me that you would never admit to anyone else.”

Eyeing him, I ask, “Say what?”

He grins, his teeth flashing in the sun as he covers his eyes with a pair of Ray-Bans. “When I win, you have to admit something to me. Pretty cut-and-dried, Moore. Or what, are you too scared to do such a thing?”

I know he is baiting me. I know he is, and I need to ignore the bait. But of course, I’m snipping at it like a damn idiot. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Then shake on it,” he says, holding his hand out. I look at his hand, and I know I have nothing to worry about. I can beat him, no problem. He may have beaten me on the ice, but that’s because my skates weren’t sharpened... Or at least that’s what I’m going with. Taking his hand, warmth creeps up my forearm before I look up at him and he is smiling.

“Good, let’s go,” he says then, and of course, I drop his hand and take off. I gotta get a good lead on him, he’ll gas out quick, but when I look back, he isn’t there.

Jace is.

What the shit?

He grins as he trots beside me. “You’re fast, dude.”

“Thanks,” I say slowly, looking behind me. “Where’s Jayden?”

“Back there,” he says, jabbing his thumb behind us.

I laugh. I got this in the bag.

I pick up speed, but Jace falls back in step with me. I don’t know why that surprises me; we are about the same body type. Except I have tits and an ass. I feel him looking at me, but before I can look back at him, he says, “So you are coming tonight, right? Further our team building? I bet you could do a badass keg stand.”

I can, but I shake my head. “Nope, staying in. Can’t be drinking, slows ya down.”

He scoffs. “You can still come and not drink.”

I shrug, following along the trail. “I don’t feel like it.”

He gives me a look of disapproval and then asks, “Why? It will be fun. I heard the parties are amazing.”

“Just don’t,” I say before sucking in a deep breath. “I really don’t know you guys. I bet it will be fun for you, but not me.”

“So get to know us,” he suggests, and I let out a breath.

“I don’t want to,” I answer then, and his grin is gone. We trot for a few minutes with each other, and I want to shake him. He makes me feel weird.

“Can I ask you something?” he says and I shrug.

“Be my guest.”

“How do you expect to be a captain of a team when you know none of the players?”

“A leader isn’t a friend, they are the leader.”

He shakes his head. “A leader should lead by example. If we all did what you are doing, none of us would know each other, and we would lose. We wouldn’t be a family, like your dad wants.”

Touché.

Little shit.

Pressing my lips together, I don’t look at him as I run. I’ve decided this conversation is over. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him shaking his head, but I don’t care. I don’t want to make friends; I don’t want to let anyone in. The last time I did that, when I left, no one cared. Out of the hundred odd people I met, I made two friends and one guy broke my heart. Yeah. I’m good, and plus, I have a one-way ticket out of here, so what’s the point? No one will care about me later.

What a really sad thought, right?

When he takes off, I don’t speed up. I need to save my gas, because this trail is tough. I didn’t realize it was all uphill or that it was kind of rocky. My knee is aching and I want to quit, but I’m nowhere near the top. Trotting along, guys start to pass me, but there is no sight of Jayden, so I keep my pace. As I trot, I replay what Jace said and try not to let it bother me, but there may be some truth to his words.

If the captaincy were up to a vote, I’d lose in a landslide. No way would these guys vote for me. And the thing that worries me the most is that when I do win, will they ever respect me? Do I care if they respect me? A part of me knows I do, but then the bitter, angry part doesn’t care. I just need the C to make my career look more lucrative.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I wonder when my need for a career became more important than my love for the game.

Before I can overanalyze that, Markus falls into step with me. “I’ll be getting beer for tonight. Do you like liquor?”

Shaking my head, I say, “I won’t be there.”

His brows come together. He’s sweating and gasping for air, but still he asks, “Why not? It’s gonna be a blast.”

“Eh, I gotta do something else,” I say, and I’m not sure why. Why am I lying?

“Oh, well, that sucks. Can’t blow it off?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Well, shit, all right,” he says, visibly disappointed. And then he’s gone, trotting along and leaving me behind. For some reason, it bothers me that I turned him down.

Why does that bother me?

Wiping sweat out of my eyes, I pick up speed because I want this to be over. I’m done with this team-building exercise, and I’m done with running. Trudging along, I suck in a deep breath, letting it out through my nose as my legs burn. Sometimes, I feel like the devil made running. He sends all his little demons to eat away at your legs and make you feel like you’re dying.