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  One Wrong Move

  Kelley University #2

  Meredith St. James

  737 Brass Books

  Copyright © 2018 by Meredith St. James

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  1. Travis

  2. Veronica

  3. Travis

  4. Veronica

  5. Travis

  6. Veronica

  7. Travis

  8. Veronica

  9. Travis

  10. Veronica

  11. Travis

  12. Veronica

  13. Travis

  14. Veronica

  15. Travis

  16. Travis

  17. Veronica

  18. Veronica

  19. Travis

  20. Veronica

  21. Travis

  22. Veronica

  23. Travis

  24. Veronica

  25. Travis

  26. Veronica

  27. Veronica

  28. Travis

  29. Veronica

  Epilogue

  Also by Meredith St. James

  One Good Play — Preview

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Travis

  Sweat poured down my body as I stepped off the treadmill. I grabbed a towel to dry myself with. Usually, I preferred running in the stands of the stadium. Running those steps was great for my endurance. The only reason I'd moved inside to the treadmill was because of the rain. I'd retreated to the empty football workout room. Despite how annoyed I was to be looking at an entire summer void of my friends, it was a nice perk to have open access to the empty space. While my friends were all off traveling and working fancy internships, I planned on getting into the best shape of my life.

  Team practices were always obnoxiously crowded, with the guys gossiping about each other worse than middle school girls. Forget about any kind of discretion, every move a player made in there became fodder for the athletic gossip mill.

  Things had been even worse for me after finally getting summoned up from second-string to starter. I was only a sophomore. The only reason it had happened was because our starting quarterback had quit—or been ruled ineligible, depending on who you asked.

  I hadn't been prepared to take over, and it showed. Our chances to go to the playoffs had been shot to hell after Carter was gone. Our head coach, the infamous Marty Mack, hadn't expected to lose our star player with no notice. Carter was only a year older than me, a junior. He could have played a whole other year before passing the position on to me.

  It wasn't that I wasn't a good player. I was just a different force on the field. Carter had been great because he played hard. I preferred to play smart. The other guys on the team had struggled to adjust to my different playing style.

  "Olson?" I turned to find one of the assistant coaches standing in the doorway. "I thought I heard someone in here. What are you doing?"

  "Getting a workout in," I answered, even though it was obvious.

  "You sticking around for the summer, then?"

  I could see it in his eyes. The pity. The poor scholarship kid with nowhere to go for the summer.

  My eyes narrowed. "That's the plan."

  "You should come meet the new coach since you'll be around."

  Surprise shot through me. My towel fell from my hand as it went limp for a moment. Doing my best to hide the reaction, I picked it up quickly as if nothing had happened.

  "Did one of the other assistants leave?"

  The man did his best to hide his grin, but he showed his teeth anyway. "Mack's gone."

  "What do you mean gone?"

  "University president booted him. Apparently, Mack and Dr. Wallace hadn't been getting along for quite some time."

  I could tell the assistant thought it was good news. It was no secret that Coach Mack didn't respect anyone working under him. He treated the assistants like shit. They were all probably relieved to be rid of him.

  Not me.

  Coach Mack might have been the worst coach I'd ever played under, but he'd done me a favor by keeping my sordid past under wraps. The last thing I needed was some new coach coming in and taking too close a look at my background.

  "Where'd he come from?"

  Please say somewhere like Las Vegas. Somewhere with a lot of scandals.

  "Some Podunk southern town. He was actually coaching public school kids before this. Not exactly sure how he got the gig, to be honest. Nice guy, though."

  My stomach sank. That was the exact opposite of what I wanted. I could feel the fibers of the towel stinging my hands as I gripped it too tight.

  "Come on, I'll introduce you."

  "Great," I somehow managed to get out.

  My feet weighed a billion pounds each as I moved slowly out of the locker room, following the assistant in the direction of the coaching office. There was no use putting off the inevitable. If the new guy was gonna try to wash his hands of me then it was better I find out now rather than later when the rest of the team would be around to bear witness.

  "Hey, Briggs, I wanna introduce you to one of the players."

  Alarm bells went off in my head as I heard him greet someone I couldn't see yet. The name. I knew that name. Two more painfully difficult steps brought me into the doorway.

  "Nice to meet you," the man greeted me diplomatically. His face remained blank. Almost as if he didn't recognize me. Impossible.

  "Sir." I nodded to him.

  "I'll let the two of you get acquainted. Feel free to call if you need anything, Briggs." Too soon, the assistant was gone. Leaving me alone with Vinnie Briggs in far too small of a space.

  Vinnie let out a deep sigh.

  "I'll admit I wasn't planning on having to face you so soon."

  My head jerked. "You knew I played here?"

  His expression turned grim. "Not until after I signed my contract. If I'd known…"

  His voice trailed off, but I knew what it was he wanted to say. If I'd known I would never have come here.

  "How's—"

  "Don't," he interrupted sharply. "Don't ask a question that you know I don't want to answer."

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. He and Veronica were close, or at least they had been. A lot could have changed in three years. Not being able to ask about her was downright painful.

  "Come have a seat." Vinnie gestured to a familiar chair. Coach Mack had summoned me to it so many times before.

  I sat and Vinnie did the same on the opposite side of the desk.

  "This job is important to me."

  "This team is important to me," I countered. I pressed my tense shoulders against the cool leather of my chair as if it might calm me.

  Vinnie forged on as if I hadn't spoken. "This isn't an ideal situation. Obviously, I remember what a good player you are. Playing for me means more than just being a good player, though." I sat in silence. It wasn't like he cared to hear me defend myself. If he had, he would have heard it years earlier. He cleared his throat and added, "I noticed your scholarship has a morality clause."

  That part sent me jumping to my feet. "I've done nothing to break that clause." Nothing that anyone knew about, at least. My throat tightened.

  "Sit down," he grumbled at me.

  "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not."

  "Sit the hell down, Travis. I don't have reason to believe you've done anything to break the clause. Not yet, anyway."

  Reluctantly, I slid back down into the seat. I stayed on the edge, pr
epared to bolt from the room if necessary. Things were going even worse than I'd expected if Vinnie was already referencing the morals clause I'd signed at Coach Mack's request.

  "Things are different here."

  "It's not enough for 'things' to be different. I need to know that you're different."

  "I am," I insisted with all the sincerity that I could muster up.

  He scoffed. "I'll believe that when I see it for myself."

  "Then I guess it's a good thing I have all summer to prove it to you." I stared him defiantly in the eyes. On the inside, I felt like I might toss my breakfast at any moment.

  "You're not going home for the break?"

  I wasn't sure why Vinnie looked so surprised. It wasn't like I had much worth going home for. Surely, he remembered that. Hell, how many times had I begged him for extra practices as a teenager, just so that I could avoid going home?

  "No, I'm not going home."

  "Well, you'll have to plan your workouts somewhere else, I'm afraid." I ground my teeth, prepared to fight to defend my spot on the team. Vinnie continued, "They're remodeling some of the facilities. That's actually why I'm here, picking up some paperwork to take home while this place is closed up."

  "But Coach Mack had said I'd be able to use the workout spaces here," I protested.

  Vinnie shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Take that up with the Athletic Director."

  My eyes scanned over Vinnie. He was something like fifteen years older than Veronica. They were actually half-siblings. He'd been a youthful surprise for their mother, and Veronica had been a late-in-life one for her and her husband. He'd always seemed more like a second father to her than an actual brother.

  He was the one that had come to her rescue when I'd been the one to fuck everything up. The man wouldn't be doing me any favors. Not now, not ever.

  "I guess that's that, then." All my friends were gone for the summer and now so was the one place on campus I'd felt comfortable by myself. I wasn't gonna go whine to the Athletic Director about that, though.

  "Guess so." Vinnie stood, a gesture I could tell meant he was ready for me to go.

  "I'll get out of your way," I offered.

  It was only when I stood and started to turn that my eyes caught on an unfamiliar picture frame hung near the door. I froze like a deer in the headlights.

  Three years.

  That was about how long it had been since I'd had even the slightest glimpse of Veronica Briggs. She was even more beautiful than I'd remembered. Her dark hair was braided to one side in the picture. Her dark blue eyes were wide as she smiled directly at the camera—or maybe just at the person behind it. I could still remember the days when she'd looked at me like that.

  "She's better off without you."

  I glanced back at Vinnie from the doorway. "I'm sure she is."

  Veronica

  "What are you doing?"

  "I've decided to take up a second job as an ostrich," I deadpanned. My voice echoed inside of the box I had my head buried in. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

  Gabby laughed, not even remotely taking my annoyance seriously.

  "If you tell me what you're looking for I could probably help you find it much faster," she offered.

  I clawed at the edge of the box until I could manage to force myself upright. The sight of Gabby staring down at me in her perfectly pressed beige dress was almost enough to make me want to bury my head back in the box. Fingers adorned in nude fake nails clutched tightly at the clipboard in her hands. A fat stack of paper she referred to as her "moving bible" was clipped to the top of it.

  I sighed as an admission of defeat. "I just need some jeans for work."

  One of Gabby's perfectly manicured fingers immediately slid down the top page of her clipboard. Not for the first time, I inwardly cursed her decision to color code and number our moving boxes instead of labeling them with words like normal people.

  "Well, no wonder you're not having any luck. These are Stella's boxes."

  Oh, hell.

  "Right." I glanced down into the box so that I didn't have to look her in the eyes as I admitted, "I may have thrown some of my things in with Stella's."

  I waited patiently for her to say something, anything. The click of her setting down her clipboard filled the silence between us. I watched out of my peripheral view as she carefully peeled the tape off of a box.

  "What are you doing?" I blurted out.

  "Helping you look."

  I turned my head and stared at her as she sifted through the box of Stella-sized clothes. Interacting with Gabby always put me on edge. She was too… everything. Too nice. Too organized. Too beige. Her and Vinnie were quickly approaching their one-year wedding anniversary. Much to my brother's chagrin, I still hadn't managed to warm up to her.

  "Where's Stella?"

  A warm smile crossed Gabby's face. The one thing I couldn't fault her for was her love for Stella.

  "The two of us happen to be smack dab in the middle of a rousing game of hide-and-seek. I'm trying to pretend I didn't hear her closing the hall closet door. I figured I'd give her a couple minutes before finding her."

  My heart melted a little. "That's nice of you."

  "It's hard to be anything but nice with a little girl that sweet. You've done a great job with her." Gabby suddenly made a triumphant sound as she held up a wad of denim. "Here you are."

  I thanked her as she handed the jeans over to me.

  "Are you sure you'll be okay with Stella while I'm gone?" I hated having to rely so heavily on the woman, but it wasn't like I could afford daycare. Besides, regardless of how I personally felt about Gabby, I couldn't imagine a stranger taking better care of Stella than she would. And since Gabby worked from home, she was basically always available.

  "Don't you worry about the two of us. We're going to have a great day," she answered earnestly.

  Our lukewarm conversation was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Vinnie stepped in, his eyebrows rising when he saw Gabby and I standing together amidst the boxes. Gabby practically tripped over herself in her rush to greet him.

  She beamed up at him. "How was the first day?"

  "It was interesting," he answered, but it was me he was looking at as he said it. "Where's Stella?"

  "Hiding," Gabby and I answered at the same time.

  A wide smile spread over Vinnie's face. "You might be the only parent in the world with a kid who'd rather play a quiet game of hide-and-seek than wreak havoc. I thought she was supposed to be hitting her terrible twos."

  "There's still time," I joked.

  I wasn't holding my breath. The idea of my quiet, perceptive daughter going through a terrible twos phase was absurd. Some days I was pretty sure Stella was more mature than I was.

  Vinnie's face grew serious. "I have to talk to you about something."

  "Can it wait until later? I start work in…" I pulled my phone out to check the time. "Thirty minutes."

  He rolled his eyes. "I still don't understand why you'd take a job working in a place like that."

  "Because I need to work."

  "You don't need to."

  We'd been having the same argument for weeks. Vinnie's contract to coach football at Kelley University was more than triple what he'd been making to coach at the high school level. He seemed to think that meant that I should let him financially support me while I stayed home full-time with my daughter.

  Living with him already made me feel more dependent on him than I liked. In the back of my mind, the fear always lingered that he'd someday come to resent Stella and me.

  "Can we not do this right now?" I asked. Already, I was moving away from him, towards the hallway that led to my bedroom.

  "I'll go get Stella so that you'll have time to say goodbye," Gabby offered.

  I had a feeling she was trying to excuse herself so that Vinnie could say his piece. Instead of waiting for the inevitable, I darted out of the room and into the safety of my bedroom. I didn't have
time for whatever was inspiring Vinnie to use his bad news voice with me. No way in hell was I showing up late to my first day at a new job.

  I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and traded my shorts for my jeans. A happy squeal made me pause as I leaned in front of the mirror to put on mascara. I closed my eyes and savored the sound for a moment. It was so rare to hear Stella like that.

  She was quite the kid. I was pretty sure she was already more mature than more than half the people I'd gone to high school with. Everything she did, she did with so much purpose and focus. Even when we were doing fun things, she had a tendency to sometimes be just a bit too serious. My goal was to find us some fun things to do in Kelley—and soon. I loved seeing and hearing her get all excited, and I was determined to pull that out of her even more as we settled into the new place.

  "Ronnie!" Vinnie shouted through the door, banging on it to emphasize his presence.

  "I really am in a hurry," I was already saying as I swung the door open.

  Vinnie was standing on the other side with Stella slung over his shoulder. Her cheeks were bright red and she was giggling so softly that I could barely hear it.

  "There's my Stelly-Belly," I cooed as her chubby little hands reached out for me.

  Vinnie helped her into my arms and I let my cheek settle against the top of her head. I'd keep her that small forever if I could.

  "What?" I asked Vinnie, realizing he was staring at my daughter with a peculiar look in his eyes.

  "She looks so much like him." The way the corner of his lip curled up in disgust spared no confusion about who he meant.

  "I don't want to think about that, much less talk about it."