INEVITABLE: A Contemporary Sports Romance Read online

  Inevitable

  Mica Rae

  Contents

  Newsletter Exclusive

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Part II

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Hush

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously or are a creation of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people (living or dead), events, or places is coincidental. The actions of the characters to do not represent the author’s beliefs and opinions.

  Copyright ©2020 by Mica Rae

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the author except brief quotations used in reviews or other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For more information, visit www.micarae.com.

  *Cover design: MT Designs * Photo: Canva Stock *

  Edited by E. Williams

  Created with Vellum

  For Kenny~

  To some you’re not black enough to be black,

  To other’s not white enough to be white…

  To me you are perfect just as you are!

  Newsletter Exclusive

  Damaged

  Lt. Kyle Jaxon came to the rehabilitation center to learn to walk again after an IED took his leg. What he never expected was to meet the sweet, sexy nurse who makes him feel more alive than ever. Can a damaged soldier like "Jax" ever be good enough for the nurse who heals more than just injuries but broken hearts as well?

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  Part One

  Chapter One

  Lily

  Jalen “JJ” Washington captivated me from the first moment I saw him. As a 15-year-old girl with a new neighbor who looked like he was carved from granite, I couldn’t help but notice him. I was a late bloomer and had just started going through puberty when we moved to Redville. Boys were first entering my radar when JJ entered the picture.

  My dad accepted a job at the high school and uprooted our small family once again, as high school football coaches often do. Moving was hard, but by that time I was becoming used to it. Life as a coach’s daughter meant never getting too attached to one place. I was a scrawny, underdeveloped tomboy with mousy brown hair. The only two exceptional things about me were my blue eyes and my genius level IQ. My eyes were such a light blue they were almost clear. Complete strangers would approach me on the street and tell me my eyes were striking. My IQ was in the genius range. It was also the reason I got to know JJ as more than just my hot, older neighbor.

  JJ was a high school junior, and because of my remarkable intellect, I was a freshman who took Algebra II, AP Biology, and American Literature with many of the upperclassmen, including JJ and his friends. My fellow ninth graders were in courses I had either tested out of when I enrolled at RHS or taken in middle school back in Kansas. Because of this, I felt like an outsider at school. To my peers, I was invisible. I liked it that way… except for when I hated it. Because sometimes, I was desperate for someone, anyone, to notice me. Sometimes I craved to be seen and heard. It was hard to achieve a sense of belonging when I was the youngest person in all of my classes. It didn’t help that I looked more like a sixth grader than I did a high school freshman.

  Once I discovered the exotic boy across the lawn, I watched him all the time. To me, JJ was the one fascinating thing about my tiny, new town, and I was not alone in that estimation. People often discussed JJ throughout our tiny community. Whether it was tales of his Friday night heroics on the football field, or snide comments about his skin color and the white girls he dated, JJ was a major topic of conversation. To most, he was a beloved football star, yet he represented everything the tiny town hated; a biracial person infiltrating a white world where he, in their minds, didn’t belong. While the black and white athletes were together on the football field, it was an unwritten rule that segregation was still in full swing in this small Texas town off the field.

  That a 17-year-old was the most fascinating thing about town this spoke volumes about both him and the town. His mom, Krissy, was an NFL cheerleader in her heyday. She was beautiful, tall, blonde, and society’s definition of perfection. Mrs. Washington was also a Redville native. The town loved their Homecoming Queen, and it seemed they were more than happy to welcome her back when she returned from her days in Dallas, black husband and all. When I first took an interest in JJ, Mrs. Washington, who insisted everyone call her Krissy, taught yoga and Pilates in a little building just off the town square in a studio she and her husband renovated years before my family came to Redville.

  JJ’s dad, Martin, was the local sheriff. Although he was revered by the people of Redville, he was also treated as an outsider. I hadn’t lived in Redville long, but I suspected this was due to the color of his skin versus the color of his wife’s as well as the fact that he didn’t grow up here. Martin was large and intimidating, but he had a warmth about him that made me feel safe whenever he was around me. He and my dad were quick friends because they both played D1 football for Big XII schools. Mr. Washington spent several years in the military before becoming a law enforcement officer. The man was gorgeous. I noticed a lot of the women in town, my mother included, blushed and stammered like schoolgirls when they would see him in his uniform.

  When you combined JJ’s mom and dad, you got a striking boy with flint colored eyes that begged you to stare, and skin the color of coffee with just the right amount cream. The guy was breathtaking. As the star quarterback of our high school football team, whose talent they likened to a professional football superstar, JJ was a hot commodity for the girls in our school. He had plenty of girlfriends, even though many parents tried to forbid their white daughters from dating him.

  I was lucky because his bedroom window faced mine and his curtains stayed open. To say I watched JJ was an understatement; I studied him as if he were a rare species I had only just discovered. If he realized the geeky neighbor with a 174 IQ spied on him every night, he probably wouldn’t have left his drapes opened so much.

  The first time I discovered I could see into JJ’s bedroom was after the first football game of the season. That was the season Redville was slated to win the 2A state championship. A lot rode on my dad living up to the hype of the team he had inherited from the coach who retired at the end of last season. The town had never won a title, but last year the team of sophomores and juniors made it all the way to the state semifinals. This was their year to win it all, and my father’s future in Redville depended on it.

  We lived in this house for two months before I realized I could reach out my window and almost touch JJ’s. I knew him from school since we sat next to each other in math class, but I never saw him other than the few classes we shared. I caught glimpses of him coming and going next door, if I was lucky.

  The first night I spied on JJ, I was in bed reading
one of my mom’s steamy romance novels she thought she kept hidden. I crossed my legs and clenched my thighs trying to relieve the weird, dull throb that grew at my core when JJ’s light caught my attention. Since I was using my flashlight to read, I could see into his room. He turned his head to holler something as he shut the door. I switched off my flashlight and crawled to the window. I peeked through the blinds and saw everything. I didn’t think he could see me, but I also didn’t want to risk it, so I stayed low and off to the right of the window with the curtains to shield me. JJ was 15 feet away from me at most. For the first time, I was grateful our houses were so close to one another.

  For the next half hour, I watched him, no; I studied him. I memorized the slope of his nose, the curve of his chiseled jawline, and the expanse of his wide back tapering into his narrow waist. JJ was the very first boy who ever made these feelings stir within me. When he lifted his shirt over his head, I reached down to squeeze myself between my legs. I don’t know why. I’d never done that before. It was something I had read about and feeling it for the first time was strange and exciting.

  My face flushed, and I leaned closer as he stripped down to his tight grey boxer briefs. The round globes of his ass were firm above his strong hamstrings. Flashes of those statues on my Art teacher, Miss Cumming’s, wall filled my mind. When I shifted forward, the heel of my foot pressed into me. The feeling it caused was unexpected and amazing. Experiencing this for the first time differed from when I read about these sensations. I felt embarrassed by how my body was reacting as if JJ could read my thoughts across the lawn, but I also I liked this warmth.

  In that moment I discovered that I really, really, really liked boys… more specifically, I really, really liked JJ Washington. I had no idea boys could make me feel this way, and even less of an idea that I could put delicious pressure between my legs and feel like I would burst into flames. When he crawled into bed and turned off his lamp, I stayed on the floor and rocked on my heel until I had my very first orgasm. I knew what it was from reading my mom’s stolen books. JJ Washington opened my eyes to a new world.

  The next morning after that first night of self-discovery, I scrambled to my window in hopes to see JJ, but all I saw was his empty room. It was clean, not just by teen boy standards, and the bed was made with military precision. A glance at the clock told me it was 9 AM, so I hurried into the shower. Every Saturday morning for as long as I could remember, I helped my father at the field house.

  Dad’s new job meant he was constantly busy. He had a secretary, but she couldn’t do all the tasks he needed. Lucky for him, he had me as free labor. I never watched or interacted with the players during my days of helping. My dad had me in his messy office where I filed papers, organized things, and made copies for the playbooks. He knew better than to let his budding daughter around a rowdy bunch of athletes. Christopher Gates was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. Plus, I think it was his attempt to bond with me, even if we had zero interaction.

  On Saturday afternoons when I finished helping my dad, I volunteered at the local dog shelter. Since I wanted a puppy and my mom refused to allow me, the primary source of her disappointments in life, any true semblance of happiness, the pound puppies filled that void. They were also my best friends since I didn’t have any human ones. Don’t get me wrong, I had made a few new friends, but I always felt like an outsider. My friends always wanted to either copy my work, which I refused, or talked about boys. Until JJ, I never understood the appeal.

  After she picked me up from the field house, my mom dropped me off at the no-kill shelter, which was just a farm where the town’s former vet collected abandoned dogs. It was located right outside of the city limits. I enjoyed my solace there while she went to the salon for whatever treatment she “needed.” As soon as she drove away and left me with my four-legged friends, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I loved my mom, I mean she was my mother so I kind of had to no matter what she did to me, but she was exhausting, and could be downright cruel. If I didn’t love her, it might force me to admit I really hated her.

  My dad longed for a boy to follow in his footsteps where my mom wanted a debutante to follow in hers. I was closer to being the boy my dad wanted than the princess my mom dreamed of raising. This meant I was an outsider in my own family. I knew my dad loved me, but it was much harder to tell if my mother loved me as well. Sometimes, under the scrutiny of her eyes, her love felt a lot like loathing.

  Where I was plain and unnoticeable, both of my parents were stunning. My dad was part Cherokee, so his skin was golden year-round. He was in his early 40s, but still built just like he was when he played wide receiver at State. My mother, his high school sweetheart, was tall, slender, and lithe like a ballerina. She also had golden skin, but hers was because of a spray tan addiction.

  Where I had dark hair like my father, my mother was a natural blonde, which she wore styled with precision. She was Miss Oklahoma and second runner-up Miss America back in the late 90s. That was her biggest achievement, and she made sure everyone knew about it. My parents were physical perfection. I was not only an ugly duckling, but also a major source of contention in my family.

  But for those three and a half hours every Saturday afternoon, I was perfect… at least to the dogs. Surrounded by Kaiser, Beck, Doodle, Tygue, Bodie, and Jake, I was the most important person in the world. I loved those dogs and if I could have, I would have taken them all home with me.

  After our grooming sessions, we walked, played, and snuggled until my mom returned to fetch me. She always pulled up and honked twice, no matter how many times Mr. Barnes, the shelter owner, asked her not to because it riled up the dogs. If I wasn’t in the car within five minutes, I got the pleasure of her screams and verbal assault the entire ride home. My mother was always on her best behavior in public, which made her less amenable behind closed doors.

  Today when she picked me up, my mother was in rare form. Her fury rolled off her in palpable waves I felt the moment I opened the car door. Her moods were as predictable as the Texas weather. I knew better than to ask what upset her, so I just got in the car and tried to make myself as invisible as possible.

  “Ugh, you smell like a wet dog, Lily,” my mother huffed as soon as the door shut. Since Mr. Barnes could see us, my mom wore her pageant face even though her voice was filled with contempt. “You disgust me.” Her words stung as badly as it would have if she had slapped me in the face, and I knew exactly how that felt.

  “I’m sorry. Saturday is bath day and Mr. Barnes can’t do it by himself,” I apologized. I hoped that would be the end.

  “Honestly, Lily, you could be almost pretty if you tried. Those dreadful overalls and dirty sneakers make you look like a stinky toddler, not a blossoming young woman. No boy will ever want to date you with you looking like this. It’s bad enough you always have your nose in a book, but do you have to dress like that?”

  Heat flooded my face, but I knew better than to reply, so I just sat there and let her heap on the verbal abuse until we pulled into the driveway. As luck would have it, Mrs. Washington was outside and waved my mother over to her. If there was anyone that could keep my mom occupied, it was our beautiful neighbor.

  Before my mom’s car door shut behind her, I was in my room flung across my bed with my earbuds blaring Twenty-One Pilots, thankful for a reprieve from the torrent of my shortcomings. I tried not to let her words wound me, but the verbal abuse cut to the quick. One would think I’d be used to it by now, but I wasn’t. I was still stunned when she unloaded her hateful words. Mothers are supposed to love their daughters, but I was certain mine hated me.

  When I rolled over from my stomach to my side, I saw them. As soon as I took in the full scene next door, I gasped. JJ sat on his bed, and it looked like his pants were around his ankles while a luscious mane of chestnut hair bobbed in front of him. I laid stone still and held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice me as I watched them. I tried to figure out why she moved like that. I was
positive it was something sex related, but she was clothed so I wasn’t sure what was happening. JJ was leaned back on his forearms as he stared up at his ceiling. He had a look on his face I had never seen. The second the brown hair sped up, JJ grabbed a handful, and it looked like he shouted something. His entire body tensed.

  Right when the girl leaned back on her heels and raised her head off of JJ’s lap, my dad shouted, “Lily, can you come into the kitchen?” Sighing, I turned away from the window. At least my dad was home to keep my mother from getting physical with me.

  Before I could respond, my mother’s voice followed. “Now, Lily!” The lack of the usual edge to her voice puzzled me. She didn’t sound mad.

  “Coming,” I hollered without a backward glance to the window. I made a mental note to look on the internet later to see if I could figure out what that girl was doing to JJ since I didn’t have any friends I was comfortable asking about this. Plus, I knew enough to know whatever that girl and JJ were up to wasn’t something they were supposed to be doing. I was almost positive she put her mouth on his privates, which I’d read about in my contraband books. Until that moment, though, I didn’t think people did that in real life.