Quarterback Keeper (Fall Lake Ballers #1)

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

GIA

T wo weeks had passed since the tense sleepover at Kylian’s and him finding out that I’d been going to his mom’s to help out. A shiver raced over me, and my fingers tightened on his steering wheel.

I hated how he affected me—I ached when he was near. All that delicious, tempting, sculpted muscle and my body turned into a wanton puddle of need. And sleeping in the same bed? It had taken me hours to drift off because I was so aware of him.

Good thing I’d quit men, or I would have scaled the ridiculous pillow wall and licked him from his washboard abs to his sinful lips, which I bet could do some pretty amazing things. But I wouldn’t be seduced by his deep voice or how the brush of his hand along my back sent little jolts of electricity to my core.

Mentally, I wasn’t ready to be with anyone, though he had some inexplicable hold on me. I had to keep that front and center in my mind, not how much I wanted to use him as a stress reliever. The only thing I liked about him so far was that he’d been a man of his word. I had to give it to him. The more time I spent with him, the more fissures invaded my walled-off heart, and a slow start to trust took root.

It was pretty sweet that he’d loaned me his vehicle, though I had to adjust the mirrors and move the seat forward, since it was set for a giant. Of course, a sports station droned through the speakers. I would have taken the bus, but Kylian had insisted I use his SUV to get groceries for the boat. As a bonus, I had his credit card, something I wasn’t about to say no to.

I scanned the complicated dash at a light, wanting to change the radio to something with upbeat music. The light changed, and I returned my hand to the steering wheel, not comfortable with the controls yet.

The radio hosts murmured in the background as I kept pace with traffic, singing a song about controlling, vampiric men under my breath—the perfect description for Dayton, the life sucker. The asshole was never far from my thoughts. With each bar of the song, a sense of freedom wove around me until I was belting lyrics only I could hear.

I almost slammed on the brakes when I heard the sports guys mention Kylian’s girlfriend. With my finger, I punched up the volume on the steering wheel to better hear the hosts, Joe and Brad.

“A few pictures show the new couple have been spotted around town,” Joe said.

“How do we know that means anything, Joe? Kylian Wilder was also photographed with a Chicago Bulls cheerleader on Michigan Ave throughout a weekend.”

“Sure, but that was almost two months ago.”

“Both were posted on a fan blog, which isn’t the most reliable,” Brad said. “I don’t think it’s anything noteworthy. The latest headline was ‘Kylian Wilder’s New Girlfriend—Fraud or Fiancée?’ It’s all sensationalized. What matters is how he’ll do in the game against Alabama. And if you check the backup quarterback’s live streams, it does not sound good.”

“Sure. Sure,” Joe said. “I hear you on both counts. But I think the new girlfriend is noteworthy, especially with Wilder’s comment about things being serious, along with a picture of them holding hands while she tried to shield her face from the camera.”

“Whoa. Kylian Wilder made a statement? Oh, I see it now. Interesting.”

“Yeah,” Jo said. “Kylian Wilder declared things were getting serious with his girlfriend, Gia Mason, to a university reporter. I saw the write-up on Fall Lake University’s Baller News Blog.”

I’m going to kill him. I couldn’t believe it. What a shit show. Changing lanes, I listened intently as I noticed a car riding my bumper, mimicking everything I did. A trickle of unease skated over me. Too many things were happening at once.

Brad’s voice cut through my thoughts once more. “I’m not saying this is a hoax, but the timing is suspect with Danbury Wilder’s senatorial campaign.”

“Come on, Brad,” Joe said. “That’s a little far-fetched. If he is serious about this girl, that’ll only help him in the long run, especially with the upcoming draft.”

“I know some coaches prefer their players to be in a serious relationship, since there’s less drama, but is it really a factor? I don’t think so. This guy’s stats speak for themselves.”

I was so mad, I hit the dash a few times until the sound stopped. He may not have announced our fake engagement, but he’d put a spotlight on me regardless, even after I’d said no.

He was a dead man. I would tear him a new one when I dropped off his stupidly expensive SUV. My hands shook, and I gripped the wheel tight before turning onto a side street—the parking lot for the grocery store in sight. Only a block ahead, I put the turn signal on as a black sedan pulled alongside me. A phone rose, snapping a picture.

Goddammit!

Palms sweating, I yanked the wheel, bypassed the grocery store, and sped down another street. The sedan made a U-turn, cutting off another car in the process. Horns blared from pissed-off drivers. Fear sank its talons into my racing heart. Who’s following me? A reporter? Kylian’s rabid fans? Or worse—someone working for Dayton?

With the steady increase in rush hour traffic, I estimated the boat to be approximately half an hour away. That wouldn’t work. I would be a fool to lead them there. Instead, I merged onto the highway, weaving through traffic as space opened. I glanced in the mirror, hoping I’d lost them. I hadn’t. The sedan mimicked my moves. Sweat coated my palms, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Where could I go? I needed to be and feel safe. Invisible. Fucking Kylian.

My teeth gnawed on my lower lip as ideas came and went. A police station would be the smartest. Whoever was following me would be stupid to follow me into a cop shop. But for real, I couldn’t go there—it was too risky.

At the last minute, I swerved across two lanes and took the next exit, barely making it. The cacophony of horns and screeching tires told me everything I needed to know. The car was still on my tail.

My gaze ping-ponged from street names to stores and parking garages and finally landed on Kylian’s athletic pass in the cupholder. A partially hysterical laugh burst from me. I bet they couldn’t follow me into the athletic parking lot on campus.

It wasn’t far. I floored it, my foot slamming down on the pedal when I could. The tires squealed as I took a turn too fast and tight. Come on. Come on. Sweat beaded along my hairline. Ten feet, and I would be there. Students walked to and from classes, and some neared the upcoming crosswalk. I had to slow down. The sensation of hundreds of red ants crawling over my skin accompanied each wasted second.

My mind raced with all that could go wrong. I yanked the wheel and jerked to a stop at the athletic lot’s entrance. With my finger, I hit the button to lower the window automatically, scooped up Kylian’s card, and waved it at the scanner. The gate swung up, and I crawled forward. I didn’t move more than a few inches past until the gate went back down. I wouldn’t chance them trying to shoot through the security after I’d gotten in and the gate was still up.

With a shaky exhalation, I eased the SUV forward and headed down one aisle, glancing at my mirrors to keep track of the sedan. They slowed then parked along the curb near the entrance to the gated lot. I was truly screwed.

On top of all that, I didn’t have my phone. I’d left it somewhere—probably the boat, maybe at Kylian’s place. I hadn’t gotten my groceries, which was the least of my worries. And I was trapped. If I tried to leave, whoever waited in that car would resume following me. I needed to park somewhere they couldn’t get clear pictures and maybe where I could see Kylian leave the building after practice. I racked my brain to remember when he said he would be done for the day.

I slowed to a stop and thumped my forehead on the steering wheel. He’d gotten a ride from his roommates so I could use his car. I hadn’t paid attention to what he’d said. Did he even tell me when he’d be back? I didn’t think so. We could barely get through a single day together without arguing, despite the attraction. The only time we had to fake that we were in a relationship was around his mom.

I couldn’t do anything but sit and hope Kylian came out and saw me. Inhaling a deep breath, I pulled up along the curb to the athletic building’s entrance, shut off the motor, and slumped in my seat to wait.

The reality of my situation weighed a ton. I was cornered, despite the fifty-thousand-dollar contract I’d signed with Kylian. And I had no way to call him for help.