More Than A Game (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 2) by Bella Matthews (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📗

to every football game until I asked her to stop my freshman year in high school. My dad left and started a new life with his secretary in Texas when Carys was five and I was eight. He wasn’t any father of the year before that, but at least he was around.

We’ve gotten cards in the mail over the years but haven’t seen him once since he left. My mom made sure she was enough for both of us and did it all while taking over as chairman of the bank her father started. I don’t know how many times she’s told me to be careful and that she’s too young to be a grandparent. I’ve never wanted to let her down.

This is gonna kill her.

2

Sabrina

Why did I promise my best friend, Chloe, that I’d meet her at her brother’s house tonight? I keep telling myself it’s Cooper’s going-away party and I want to stop by, but the pull of my warm, comfy bed, my pajamas, and Netflix has me wishing I’d said no. The sun set hours ago, and you can feel fall trying to push through the Indian summer we enjoyed through most of September. The temps are starting to drop at night, and the leaves are beginning to turn to the gorgeous orange and golds I enjoy this time of year. There’s a strong smoky smell wafting through the air as I walk up the front steps of the gorgeous brick house, minutes away from campus.

My friends love a good bonfire. I’m going to be washing that smell out of my hair for days.

I wish I knew how to tell people no.

What can I say?

I’m a people pleaser.

It’s something I’ve been trying to work on.

My dad’s senate seat is up for re-election in less than two months, so I spent the majority of my night looking pretty and smiling for donors at one of his fundraisers. Now, knocking on the door of Brady Ryan’s house, I wish, at the very least, I’d taken time to go back to my dorm room and change. Dressed in a pale pink sheath dress with nude heels that are killing my feet, I look more like a fancy soccer mom than a college student.

I’m not sure why I even bother knocking on the door because no one can hear me. Letting myself in, I hear the dull thump of the bass playing over the stereo. Looking around, I’m surprised by the lack of people. A few big guys, who I’m guessing are on the football team, look up as I enter. They’re playing Madden on the flat screen.

There’s a couple who look like they may as well be screwing on the kitchen counter.

Eww. People eat there.

I continue to make my way to the back yard when Natalie and Brady walk through the kitchen door.

She wraps both arms around me, squeezing. “Sabrina! You made it!”

Natalie Sinclair moved to our tiny town last year and, thanks to Chloe, has become one of my closest friends. She’s fiercely loyal and one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. We look like polar opposites. She’s the Betty to my Veronica, tiny and blonde with a dancer’s grace next to me, who’s tall and brunette with strength you get from fifteen years of playing soccer.

Letting go of me, she leans back into Brady and smiles. “I’m so glad you made it. We were sitting around the bonfire in the backyard, but Brady and I got tired. We’re going to bed. I don’t think there’ll be much sleeping, but to bed we must go.” She bounces on her toes and smacks Brady on the ass. Then she laughs at herself.

Pretty sure Nattie is drunk.

She continues, “Are you coming to my dad’s tomorrow? BBQ’s at 2:00 p.m.”

Pressing my lips together, I attempt to hold in my laughter. Natalie never gets drunk. “I should be able to stop by. Is Coop here? I wanted to say goodbye before he leaves.”

Natalie’s lower lip trembles as her eyes begin to fill with tears. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she looks away. “He’s gone to bed. His flight leaves tomorrow night, so you better come by if you want to see him.” Quietly, I watch Nat turn and head up the stairs.

Glancing back, I tell Brady, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

I’ve known Brady Ryan since I thought boys had cooties. He’s a good-looking man with warm brown hair and the body of a football king. Thank God I was never interested in him because he and Nat are a modern-day version of Barbie and Ken.

They’re perfect together.

The way he looks at her gives me hope that good men still exist and love is real.

Brady’s eyes follow Nat upstairs. “She’s having a hard time with Cooper leaving. She’ll be okay. It’s good to see you, Brina. Chloe and the guys are in the backyard if you’re looking for them.”

Brady takes the steps two at a time after Nat.

I make my way outside to a backyard lit up with fairy lights. The bonfire is roaring with people sitting in a circle around it.

Of course, the first person I see is the reason I’ve never been interested in Brady Ryan.

One of his best friends.

One of his roommates.

All six-foot-two of rock-solid muscle.

Aiden Murphy.

He’s one hell of a sight with reddish-brown hair, mossy-green eyes, and muscles stretching the cotton of his black Kroydon University t-shirt. God, I’ve always loved his muscles. When we were in middle school, and most boys were twigs, Murphy was already developing a defined physique. Now, all these years later, he’s built like a Greek god with a face that belongs on a Nike ad. I hate the way my body reacts to the simple sight of him.

My defense mechanism has always been, and still is, sarcasm, which tends to come off bitchy. With the way my body reacts to Murphy, I always feel like I’m on the defensive around him. I don’t want him to know how