Boarded by Love (8 page)

“What do you want to do?”

“I guess go to Bellevue. I don’t want to leave yet, but I want to be noticed.”

I nod. “I get that, but remember I have four teams looking at me, and I go to Bellevue. We’re gonna kick ass this year.”

“Hell, yeah, we are,” Jayden adds as he carries Angie on his shoulders toward the living room.

“You gotta do what you feel is right, Jace,” I say, cupping his shoulder before turning just in time to see my dad standing up from his chair. He’s around my height, but he’s thick like Jayden. His dark black hair is cut short, his green eyes hard as emeralds. His mouth is in a straight line, and he doesn’t look too pleased to see me, really. It’s crazy because when I was outside, I was relaxed and free, but under my dad’s gaze, I feel panicky, like I need to run back out. This is how it’s always been. My whole life.

“He should go straight into the draft. No need to wait,” he says, passing by me with no greeting at all. “You all should. You obviously haven’t been working hard enough.”

“Like he would know,” Jayden says under his breath behind me. I want to laugh but I know better. My dad has never put his hands on us, probably because he isn’t around, but when he is, it’s easy to say that not all abuse is physical. I used to sit back and take it, but lately, I really don’t give a fuck. I don’t live here. I don’t need him. Haven’t needed him, so I’m usually the first one not to whisper under my breath. I let him know exactly what I’m thinking at all times.

“You’re completely right, Dad,” I say, and my mom sends me a look as Lucy shakes her head. “I obviously don’t have a full ride to college or am the captain of a team when I’m only a sophomore or have the respect of my whole team. And Jayden must not push himself to the point of exhaustion every day and must not play rather than study, but he does both. Poor Jace obviously isn’t the leading scorer in the high school league for the whole damn United States. Nope, that’s not us. Must be some other Sinclair kids.”

Dad glares back at me and places his hands on his hips. “Must be.”

“Fucking jerk,” Jace whispers and I nod in agreement.

“Did you come all this way to ruin the dinner your mother cooked?” he asks me and I shake my head.

“No, I came here to spend time with my family, but of course, you’re here and have to make everything tense and forced.”

“I can leave if you’d like, you know. We all have to make Jude happy.”

“Dad, Jude, please,” Lucy says, cuddling Angie in her arms. “Don’t fight.”

I set my father with a look as he slowly nods. “No fighting, sweetie. He knows he hasn’t worked hard. That’s why he’s so defensive.”

Before I can say anything else, Jace cups my shoulder, shaking his head as my mom says, “Okay, let’s eat! I know y’all gotta head back early for classes.”

I want to say more, but with one look in my mom’s eyes, I know this isn’t the time. I should have ignored his words, but like always, I let him get to me. I really don’t understand it. Why do I care? He doesn’t give two shits about me. I could be in the NHL, the leading scorer, and he will find something to bitch about. He will find something that I’m doing wrong, or that he thinks I’m doing wrong, and ride my ass about it. I know my mom loves me and is proud of me, along with my siblings, so really, I don’t need anything else. Or at least, I try to say I don’t. The truth is that I crave his attention, his love, and most of all, I want him to be proud of me. Crazy, I know. No one should have to fight for the love of their father, but, unfortunately, it happens every day.

Especially in the Sinclair residence.

I
hate Mondays. They are dumb, in my opinion. I mean, why is there a day that is bound to be horrible? Every Monday is like this for me. For some reason, I can never remember to set my alarm before I pass out on Sunday, and so I wake up with only time to brush my teeth before running full speed out of my dorm toward my English class. It’s sad and ridiculous, and as I look down at myself, I can’t even muster up enough energy to be embarrassed that I’m wearing Pink! sleeping shorts and a large, purple Nashville Assassins hockey team shirt. Or that my hair is so large that it could give a southern belle from the eighties a run for her money.

I look busted, and usually I wouldn’t care, but when I come out of my English class to find Jude Sinclair leaning against the wall, I curse the heavens. I try to walk by him, hoping he doesn’t see me. But of course, no such luck.

“Lookie here, Claire Anderson, we meet again.”

I hide my smile as I say, “Do I know you?”

He laughs as he falls into step with me. “Of course you do. Remember I’m the hottest guy on campus, the same guy you want to meet for dinner tonight.”

I scoff as I pause to look at him. Of course, he looks devilishly gorgeous in a black tank and red athletic shorts. His arms are covered in tattoos, and I want to get closer to dissect each one, but since I’m playing that I don’t know him, that wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Sorry, I don’t date.”

His grin doesn’t falter. “Why is that?”

“’Cause I did that not even a week ago and the guy had crabs.”

I turn to leave but his hand wraps around my wrist, and instantly my arm catches on fire. As I look back into his hooded green eyes, he says, “First, I can give you a copy of my physical that says I’m completely clean, and second, don’t make me pay for some jerk-off’s mistakes.”

I smile as my eyes lock with his. I want nothing more than to lean into him and brush my lips against his. I bet his lips are soft. They look so plump, so inviting. I want to get lost in his eyes, his arms, his body. God, I haven’t ever felt like this. What is wrong with me? Oh my God, am I actually leaning into him? Oh shit. I am, and he is wanting it. His eyes are darker and he’s leaning toward me.
Ack! Stop, Claire!

Stopping myself, I take a step back, putting a good arm’s length distance between us. Setting him with a look, I say, “You’re trouble, Hey Jude.”

He smiles one of those smiles that makes girls go out their mind and says, “And you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

“I highly doubt that, especially with the just-out-of-bed look I’m sporting, but thanks.”

Leaning into me, his lips by my ear, he says, “If this is what you look like out of bed, I can only imagine how you’d look in it.”

My mouth parts as my heart speeds up in my chest, banging hard against my ribcage as he pulls away, his eyes playfully on mine as I gasp for breath. “You’ll never find out,” I mutter as I take another step back.

“Maybe not today, but one day I will, and believe me, you’ll like what you see…and feel, of course.”

His voice is thick with lust and everything bad. I eye him cautiously before backing away from him. “Complete trouble.”

His mouth pulls up at the side, and he’s about to say something, but I run smack-dab into someone. Turning, I go to apologize, but it’s Allen.

“Claire, I was looking for you.”

“Ugh, why?” I whine as I let my shoulders fall and my head too. I don’t want to do this right now. My Monday was looking good for a second there, but of course, Allen would ruin that.

“He has something to say to you, don’t you, Allen?”

I look over to find that Jude is standing beside me. “Why are you still here?”

He flashes me a quick grin, but when he looks back at Allen, his look could kill. “’Cause I want to make sure he does what he needs to.”

“Are you his dad?” I ask, my face all scrunched up.

Looking back at me, his grin is back. “Nope, his captain.”

He says it like that explains it all, but it doesn’t. Confused, I look back at Allen as he says, “I’m sorry, Claire. I was wrong for messing around on you behind your back.”

My brow comes up before I glance back to Jude. “Did you threaten to beat him up or something?”

He’s still grinning as he shrugs. “If that’s what you want, I will, but no, I didn’t. Laps are my punishment for hurting you.”

Why does that make me giddy?

“It seems like he doesn’t mean it,” I say and Jude laughs.

“Yeah, I agree. Want me to beat him up?”

I glance over at Allen, who is glaring, and I shrug. “He has crabs, that’s punishment enough. But now I wish I wouldn’t have taken down those signs since I’m pretty sure you’re not sorry you cheated on me, but rather sorry you got caught. Don’t worry, I’m not the least bit upset about it. I might even move on pretty quickly, so don’t worry about me,” I say, then to show him he means nothing to me, I reach for Jude and place my lips against his.

It was supposed to be a quick kiss, but soon my lips are moving with his in a very, very slow and sexy way. His lips are soft and full, and God, he tastes good. Donuts. He must be carbing up. When his hands slide down my back, resting against my hips, I arch into him, deepening the kiss. People holler and the catcalls are ridiculous, but I don’t care. I’m too lost in his lips and the feel of his chest under my hands to care. He’s so hard and thick, oh sweet Lord, his body is a wonderland that I want to discover. When his fingers trail up my neck, that’s when something snaps inside me, reminding me that I shouldn’t be doing this. I pull away but he follows me, his teeth nibbling on my bottom lip before his lips assault me once more. You know, everyone always talks about sparks and fireworks when they kiss a guy – I hadn’t ever felt that before, but I do now. But sparks and fireworks really don’t do the way he kisses justice. It’s more like a bomb, a nuclear one, because when I pull back, I’m actually dizzy.

What the hell did he do to me?

Setting him with a look, I back away, smacking away his grabby hands that are trying to pull me back in.

“Hey, come here. I’m nowhere near done with that sweet mouth of yours,” he says, but I continue to smack his hands away before pointing at him.

“Trouble, pure freaking trouble is what you are!” Then I turn to look at Allen, and I wonder why he stayed to watch that, but whatever. “And you are an asshole. But no need to apologize, ’cause I want nothing to do with you.”

Glaring at both of them, I stomp away, mad that I considered having sex with a cheating bastard, a crab-infested asshole, and then mad that I allowed Hey Jude to kiss the living stuffing out of me and make me want to have sex with him in the middle of the courtyard. There is something dangerous about him, and if I’m not careful, Hey Jude will have me naked and on top of him within seconds. The only thing is I’m not sure I want that. I mean, yeah, I want him, but I’m not sure if I only want him once. I may not know him, but I like him a little too much, and that scares me. I’ve never been in love, never felt those so-called butterflies, but as I’m walking away, those butterflies are going insane in my stomach. Which means one thing:

Jude Sinclair is undeniably trouble.

So when Skylar said that the dance girls were bitches, she wasn’t kidding.

Before we even did the group choreographed part, Rachael, the captain, cut nine girls based on their body type and looks. It was rude and disgusting. I felt horrible for this one girl who started crying, and I was two seconds from walking out, but then I saw Reese was in the bleachers, watching. I couldn’t walk out when she had come to watch, so I decided to stay in. After learning the dance, which I’m sure my nine-year-olds from the dance studio came up with, Skylar and I murdered it and were passed through to the second round. We started with forty girls and now were at twelve. They were only taking five, though. I was confident in us, but still nerves settled in my stomach.