Personal Foul: A Sports Office Standalone Romance Read online

  Stepping out of the shower a few minutes later, I towel-dry my hair before wrapping it around my waist before making a dash for my phone to check for any missed messages.

  Sydney: I didn’t get much sleep last night. Going to take more medicine and hopefully pass out.

  I shake my head, rubbing the back of my neck. I’m about to toss my phone back on my bed when another text message comes through.

  Sydney: Good luck!

  The trip to Dallas is long, and it makes it harder being away from Sydney, especially with this distance growing between us. This is the part I hate most about my job–when all the traveling pulls me away from where I need to be.

  It’s tough to stay focused, but I have to do what I need to do. I owe it to my teammates to give it a hundred and ten percent effort every day.

  My mood is sour after our game. We ended up losing by three points in overtime. It was a hard-fought game, but something about losing and not being able to leave the arena and head straight home always makes it worse. It’s like you have to sit in your mood, dealing with the loss, all the way home.

  The team loads up on the bus, heading to the airport for our flight back to Miami. I still haven’t heard from Sydney since she texted me good luck.

  I sent her a couple of messages, letting her know we landed and asked her how she’s feeling, both of them went unanswered.

  Just as we’re about to board the flight, a text message comes through, and my heart leaps, hoping it’s Sydney.

  Molly: Colson, we need to talk. It’s important.

  Important to who? I think to myself when another message comes through.

  Molly: Is this about the redhead from the other night?

  The fact she’s bringing up Sydney now has me seeing red. I’m in the middle of sending her a reply, telling her not to bring her up or to bother texting me as she fires off another message.

  Molly: She knows who I am, Colson. You might as well cut the bullshit already.

  Anger simmers in my blood forcing my jaw to tick. I turn my ringer off on my phone, not wanting to cut myself off from the chance of hearing from Sydney, but I don’t want to deal with Molly right now. I will, but it will have to wait until I cool down and sort through the mind-fuck she’s thrown at me.

  “You all right, man?” Jaxsen asks, side-eyeing me.

  It was a tough night for him, things got heated on the court after he took an elbow to the jaw when going up for a rebound. He popped off at the other player, Corbin Savage. Neither of us are in the mood right now.

  “Nah, man. I’m not, not at all.”

  “Is this about the loss, man? We’ll take it. Savage doesn’t stand a chance against us in the playoffs, and they know it. We were off our game tonight, but we’ll come back better in the end.”

  He’s right, but I don’t want to talk game right now.

  “No, just a text I got. I’ll be better once we touch down in Miami, and I can tend to a few things.”

  He nods, checking again that I’m okay. I adjust my headphones, scrolling through my playlist before stopping on Linkin Park. I shut my eyes, tilting my head back against the headrest, attempting to drown the world out around me.

  It’s late when our flight touches down. By the time Jairo pulls up outside our apartment building, it’s after eleven-thirty. It’s a weekend, though, so most people in Downtown Miami are coming alive.

  Pulling my suitcase with my gear along behind me, I hit the elevator through the parking garage. I’m focused on one thing and one thing only… getting to Sydney.

  “So, wait, you two live together?”

  The sound of her voice immediately catches my attention once the elevator reaches our floor. My eyes dart over to the direction it came from, landing on Molly standing face-to-face with Sydney.

  Her long auburn hair is pulled up in one of those messy buns she likes to wear with her black-framed glasses. She doesn’t wear them often but seeing her now with her rosy cheeks makes my palms itch, yearning to touch her.

  She must’ve heard the bell ding from the elevator, her eyes shooting over to me. I see a mix of anger and hurt, and I want to tell her to remember what I said the night at the gala. I want to remind her there’s nothing for her to worry about, to ignore whatever lies she’s spewed.

  She knows me; she knows who I am beneath all the bullshit. She can trust me, even though I’m sure in her mind she has a list forming of all the reasons why she shouldn’t.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I spit out at Molly.

  Her body jostles, not expecting the anger behind my words. I’ve never spoken to her this way. I’ve been mad, I’ve raised my voice when I learned what she was up to behind my back, but I never would lower myself to the place of getting so mad I took it out on her.

  It’s different now. She’s messing with someone I love, and I won’t let her have her way here, too. I won’t lose Sydney because of her conniving bullshit.

  “Did you get my text messages?”

  Her lips curve in a smirk, crossing her arms in front of her. Sydney sighs, shaking her head. She leans against the door frame, rubbing her fingers over her forehead.

  “Didn’t you get mine? I told you to stop contacting me. You’d think you would’ve gotten the point when I didn’t respond, Molly. What do you want?”

  “Were you ever going to tell her about us?”

  “What’s there to tell? There’s no ‘us’ anymore, Molly. Everything that happened is in the past, where it’s going to stay. I’m done with you, with this.”

  She drops her arms, stomping her foot, letting out a heavy breath. “What is it you see in her anyway? I mean, seriously! Look at her, she can’t possibly be good enough for you.”

  Her arms fly around, motioning to Sydney. She’s dressed in a black dress with matching heels. Her makeup looks smudged beneath her eyes, and the longer I stand here, looking at her, the angrier I become.

  “How many times are you going to make him say it?” Sydney pushes off the wall, stepping out into the hallway.

  Her red robe is wrapped around her body, cinched at the waist.

  “He wants you to leave!”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, little orphan Annie,” she mocks.

  I’m fuming at the nickname. When TMZ broke the news of my relationship with Sydney, they had to spill how she was adopted, referencing her dad as being my head coach.

  It’s because of me she even has connections down here, and once I find out how she figured out where I live, it’s going to be a cold day in hell for whoever it was.

  “Listen here, Molly. I’m not going to say this again. Whatever your reason was for getting on a plane and flying down here, it was pointless. We are done! We were done when you thought it was a good idea to use me and steal my money. There’s nothing you could say to change my mind!”

  Sydney’s eyes bulge at the mention of her stealing from me.

  Not giving Molly a second more of my time, I shoulder past her and step toward Sydney, muttering under my breath, “I guess there are some things we need to talk about.”

  She steps back, holding the door open and letting me enter. I deposit my suitcase near the door and step in close to her. I wrap my arm around her waist, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

  Molly’s eyes narrow into slits, anger seething watching me disregard her like yesterday’s newspaper.

  “It’s too bad all that makeup can’t cover up how truly ugly you are.” Sydney plasters a fake smile on her face, before muttering, “bitch” as she slams the door in Molly’s face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sydney

  Once I’m no longer faced with Molly’s scrutinizing stare, I give myself the space I need, driving the wedge separating us back into place.

  All the lights in my apartment are off, except for the one on my end table in the corner of the living room. The mix of the light with Netflix muted on the TV is the only light in the room.

  Massaging my f
ingers into my temples, I amble back to my couch, where I’ve been curled up for the last twenty-four hours binge-watching Friends and scrolling through hours and hours of TikTok videos.

  “Would you mind if I told you I wasn’t up for talking right now?” I ask, collapsing onto the couch and adjusting a blanket back over my lap.

  “Are you going to make me leave?”

  “No,” I sigh. “Maybe. I don’t even know.”

  “We can’t run or hide from our problems forever, Sydney. What happened to you trusting me, to you not pushing me away when things get hard?”

  Biting down on my lower lip, I think through his words. He’s right. As much as I want to push him away and avoid this conversation, I told him I wouldn’t keep running, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your history with her?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I felt like there was nothing to tell?”

  “She said you were going to marry her, Colson! What do you mean there was nothing to tell?”

  He shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it on the other end of my couch, stalking toward me. He takes a seat next to me, pulling the blanket off my lap enough to let him join me, draping his arm along the back of the couch behind me.

  Colson looks delicious in his black suit with his orange tie. Don’t get me wrong, I love when he when he’s dressed in his joggers or athletic shorts, but there’s something about the sight of him in a suit that steals my breath away.

  He’s making it so hard for me to want to push him away or beg for space right now, even though I know I need time to collect my thoughts.

  “It’s not like you think, Sydney. I swear. She was working for me back in Chicago. I hired her on as my assistant and, yes, we started to spend time together. Casually.” He emphasizes the last word.

  “It was never as serious as the way I see us together. We did talk about the future, and she brought up the two of us being together long term. She joked a few times about what kind of ring she’d want, but that was it.”

  He pulls back, his expression changing, and I’m unable to read it.

  “It’s like no matter how hard I try, you still won’t trust me.”

  “I do trust you, but you have to understand history has shown me time and time again when you think you can trust someone, they give you a million reasons why that was a mistake.”

  He sighs heavily, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes.

  “Do you want to know why I fired her and stopped seeing her?”

  I stare down at my hand, running my thumb over the edge of the blanket, not wanting to look at him as he talks about himself with another woman. Even if it’s him explaining how it ended.

  “Why?”

  “I guess we both have a little something in common when it comes to trusting people. After a while, I had her start helping me with errands. You know, picking up my suits for me, getting them dry cleaned, stuff like that. I hate shopping, so she’d often arrange different options for me to try instead of going into the store to buy them. I started to notice charges on my account for more than I expected, and it turns out she was putting her personal purchases on my account without permission.”

  My lip curls in disgust. She’s exactly what I expected her to be, and I’m not the least bit surprised either.

  “I hadn’t realized until after I ended it how much and how often she was doing it, but that’s what all of this is about for her. She doesn’t want to be with Colson; she wants to be with Colson Rush, the basketball player.”

  Colson moves his hand from behind me, reaching over to turn his head to face mine.

  “The fact she told you we were going to get married only goes to show she’ll still do anything to manipulate the situation to get what she wants. She hadn’t expected me to meet someone and fall in love so quickly.”

  He stops, staring into my eyes.

  “I love you,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere, and I mean it.”

  The words are spoken with so much conviction that my heart aches imagining life without him.

  Shedding the blanket, I press my hand down between us, crawling onto his lap. Colson reclines back on the couch, his face shifting from emotional to desire, his hands dropping to where my robe is tied at my waist.

  “I need to feel you.”

  I nod, understanding what he means, raking my fingers over his chest, straddling him. His nostrils flare, his jaw clenching, and he gives a little cough when he sees what I’m wearing, or well, not wearing underneath.

  “Are you kidding me? You’ve had this on under here the entire time?”

  “I was going to wear it for you the other night before you left for your game. I had a feeling you were going to come over when you got back to town, at least I hoped you were. I was also hoping you’d be able to see it.”

  He coughs, clearing his throat as he stares down at my chest to the black lace bra and panties I am wearing underneath.

  I half expected it to be him getting off the elevator the first time; Antonio even called to give me the heads up. I just hadn’t expected to find Molly get off first.

  “Do you realize what you do to me?” His eyes are everywhere on me like he’s both eating me up and afraid if he blinks or looks away, I’ll somehow disappear.

  “Feel,” he mutters, reaching for my hand to press it against his chest. I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is his heart or mine, or the two of them beating together in rhythm.

  “I love you, Colson,” I blurt out, my lips crashing down against his.

  He moans, tearing my robe the rest of the way off me until it drops on the floor behind me.

  His dress pants don’t do much to contain his growing erection, and each roll of my hips is enough to drive us both wild with need.

  “I swear to God,” he grunts as I lean up on my knees, giving him room to unbutton and slide his pants down.

  Reaching my hand down between us, I wrap my fingers around his dick tightly, turning my wrist as he tosses his head back and squeezes his eyes shut.

  “Sydney,” he moans. “Your hand feels so fucking good, but I need to feel you. I want to feel every inch of you around me.”

  I nod, jerking him harder, loving how he gives over control and lets me pleasure him like this. Seeing how turned on he is, how his body reacts to me, there’s nothing else like it.

  He makes me feel confident and sexy in ways I’ve never felt before.

  Letting go, his eyes fall on my hand, watching as I run my thumb over the tip of his cock to where the bead of precum leaks out. I rub my wet fingers over my clit, moving my panties to the side, while the heat of his stare burns into me.

  “You did not…” His voice trails off. “Sydney.” This time when he says my name, it’s more of a plea.

  Adjusting myself above him, I rub the head of his dick over my pussy, loving the sounds he makes and the way his breathing changes. His hands clench into fists next to us, and I want to grin with delight seeing how much he wants me.

  Positioning him near my entrance, I slowly slide down him until he’s pressed to the hilt. I wrap my arms around him to hold on, loving how good it feels.

  Gripping his shoulders, I ease up before slamming back down, and the growl that comes from deep in his chest has my smile breaking free.

  “You like riding this dick,” Colson grits his teeth, his head resting against the back of the couch, staring up at me. He’s close, but he’s waiting until I meet him there.

  “Yes,” I moan, reaching my hand between us to rub my clit.

  Colson watches me, his eyes following my hand before he’s had enough. He moves my hand away, taking his thumb and rubbing it over my clit. The calluses on his fingers brushing over my sensitive flesh is enough to send my eyes rolling back, feeling my imminent release closing in.

  “Let me feel you cum, baby. Give it to me.”

  The combination of his words and the feel of his finger rubbing me are enough to s
end my body falling over the edge, tremors breaking out over my body as Colson grunts, thrusting twice before meeting me there.

  I collapse against his chest, my arms circling his neck, his hands wrapping around me, holding me to him.

  It takes me a few minutes before I come back down to earth or can even form a coherent sentence.

  My lips trail kisses along his neck, up toward his ear.

  “I missed you while you were gone.”

  “You missed me, or you missed this?” he jokes, gesturing toward where our bodies are still connected.

  I pull back and flash him a brief smirk. “I mean, both.”

  He laughs, tickling my sides. I push him away, begging him to stop.

  “I was kidding, I swear I was kidding.”

  “Mmmhm.” He raises his brow.

  “I’m serious though. It’s too quiet when you’re not around.”

  We don’t move to break our connection. Instead, Colson sheds his dress shirt and kicks off his pants the rest of the way before insisting we curl up naked together on the couch.

  He tells me about his game. Although I ended up taking a break from Friends to watch it, I listen intently as he tells me how it went and how frustrated he was on the flight home after their loss.

  I can tell he is irritated when he changes the subject, asking about me and if I had been sick. I hate admitting to him I wasn’t, but he deserves to hear the truth from me.

  When I give him the full story about how Molly showed up outside of the gym and everything she had said, he admits he understands why I was upset and pushed him away.

  “I forgot to tell you,” I say a little while later. Colson’s arm is under his head, the other brushing my hair back, reminding me of our date down by the beach. “I stopped down at the Boys and Girls Clinic earlier today to drop off the donation from the gala and got to see Isaac. He was so excited to tell me all about how he’s trying out for basketball this year at school. He made me promise I’d come with you the next time you go. We decided a two against one would be the best way to help you both, you know… help you prepare for the playoffs and get him ready for his try-outs.”