SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(8)

My coach called me over, and I jogged to him. “What’s up, coach?”

“Look, Blake. I got an email from a couple of your professors. You’re failing classes,” he informed me, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes full of concern.

My face was hot with embarrassment, and I looked down. “I’ll get them up, coach. I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “If your GPA is this low at midterm, I’ll have to pull you from the team. I don’t want to do that. You’re a good player. I want you on my team.”

I nodded, angry at myself for not working hard enough on schoolwork. I had been slacking, but I hadn’t realized how much. I plowed through practice, using my anger to fuel my body. I left feeling defeated, physically and mentally. I had to get my shit together. I gritted my teeth and got in the car, slamming the door.

Alyssa shot me a cold look as she started the car. “What is your problem?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, too angry to give a proper apology.

“Yeah, whatever,” she snapped, throwing the car in drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

Halfway home, Alyssa got a call. She glanced down and pulled over to answer. After a minute, she hung up and told me, “That was Dad. We have to pick up groceries on the way home.”

Annoyed, I said, “Just drop me off at home first.”

Pulling back onto the road, she replied in a cold voice, “I’m not doing that; it’s a waste of time.”

I shot her another annoyed look and muttered, “Whatever.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. I turned to Alyssa and said, “I’m just going to wait out here.”

Exasperated, she snapped, “No, you’re coming into the store to help me get the groceries.”

“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m staying in the car.”

Alyssa stared at me, her annoyance with my attitude evident on her face. In a steady, determined voice, she said, “Look, Dad told us to get groceries. You’re going to come in and help me whether you like it or not.”

I let out an angry sigh and got out of her car, slamming the door as hard as I could behind me. We walked around the store in silence, wrapped in resentment. Alyssa checked the list her father texted her and threw items angrily into the cart as I pushed it up and down the aisles. We checked out and carried the heavy bags to the car. She set her bags on the ground by her trunk while she unlocked and opened it. Putting her bags in, she motioned for me to give her mine. I thrust them belligerently into her arms, and one of the bags ripped, the contents spilling everywhere.

Alyssa let out a yelp as a glass jar of sauce dropped, breaking and splattering all over her. She looked up at me, as furious as I had ever seen her. “What is your problem?” she screamed at me, her face red and her hands clenched tightly into fists at her side.

“You’re my problem!” I yelled back at her.

Her eyes lit up with shock and hostility, and she pushed me roughly on my chest. I glared at her for moment, fighting the impulse to respond in kind, and gave in to the urge that raged behind my indignation. I grabbed her and kissed her roughly. She fought me for a moment but quickly responded, her lips just as demanding and feverish as mine. I pushed her against the car, pinning her arms to her side as I ripped my mouth from hers to press hot kisses along her jawline and down her neck.

She thrust her hips against mine and let out a hot, heady moan. “Fuck,” she whispered as I nibbled on her skin, my teeth grazing hungrily at her throat. I grabbed her waist, and she framed my face with her hands and kissed me eagerly, practically shoving her tongue in my mouth.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” I growled against her lips between angry, frustrated kisses. She shoved me away after a moment, and we stared at each other, breathing heavily.

“We have to go,” she breathed, her fingers covering her swollen lips.

I nodded and helped her pick up the groceries. We drove home in silence, and it took all of my self-control not to touch her, not to look at her. I could sense she was having just as much difficulty in the small, heated space of the car. A mix of anger and want swirled in her eyes, and her jaw was clenched tightly, her knuckles white as her hands clamped on the steering wheel.

As soon as we got home, I went up to my room and flung myself on my bed, angry at myself for kissing her and angry at myself for stopping. I needed to change the way I acted around Alyssa and fast, otherwise I would endanger the family we were forced to be a part of. I had to make myself less available to her and start acting more brotherly.





Alyssa



I debated whether or not to go to Blake’s game that night. I wanted to make an excuse, but I also didn’t want to appear weak. Instinct told me I wasn’t just attracted to Blake but might actually have feelings for him. The whole thing was a mess, and I didn’t know how to fix it. It was bad enough battling my instinctual dislike for Blake as a person, but there was more to our circumstances than that. We were related now, albeit by marriage, and that wasn’t going to change.

I wanted to talk to Maggie about it, but I was worried she would be judgmental, so I was on my own. I decided to go to the game. It wasn’t like I was going for Blake, anyway. Practically the whole school was going. I asked Maggie to join me, and after three grueling classes and a few hours of studying, we headed to the football field.