Page 1 of Refusing Kendall

Stingy Bitch

The only thing that could ever beat those fall Friday nights at a high school football game are Saturday afternoons at college games. Even when it’s blazing hot outside, or cold enough to freeze your tits off, there’s just something about the roar of the crowd that gets you high from the adrenaline. I would hope that everyone feels this way, but my opinion might be sort of biased.

See, I have not one, but four boyfriends who are starting freshman on the team. It was a feat for all of them to sign onto the same team, but for them to all be starters? It’s been a dream come true. Luckily for me, I get to witness it.

“What the hell kind of call was that? The play wasn’t dead,” I yell at the ref as he throws a flag on Teagan for unnecessary roughness. He hit him hard, but the whistle hadn’t been blown yet.

To my right, there are at least five guys decked out in school colors staring at me. I lift an eyebrow and glare right back, “What’s your problem? Never seen a girl that likes football before?”

The one closest to me lets out a deep chuckle as the others just continue to watch me. When he gets himself under control, he responds, “Not one as sexy as you are.”

I snort, “Not happening, frat boy. You see numbers 3, 9, 22, and 18 out there? They’d stomp your ass into the ground for even trying.”

His eyes widen, and he throws up his hands in surrender, “Hey, it was worth a shot. No need to sic’ your brothers on me.”

My laugh is loud, and his words fully distract me from the game, “They are most definitelynotmy brothers.”

The smile that he shoots me would attract all females in a two-mile radius, but it does absolutely nothing for me. He holds out a hand, and when I take it, he says, “The name’s Zach. We might as well go ahead and make friends now, since we’ll be sitting together the rest of the year.”

My boys had gotten me a season seat, practically front row. No problem for guys who had money at their fingertips. I’m guessing the guys beside me bought season seats too, which makes him right about us making friends sooner rather than later.

“Kendall,” I tell him as the game ends and the crowd goes wild.

Zach yells at his buddies, “We fucking won!”

Of course you did,I want to say to them,my boys were playing.

All other noise and faces blur into nothing as Goose runs off the field, heading straight for me. He doesn’t even bother to stop and celebrate with his team. He jumps the little metal bar separating us from the field. People pat him on the shoulders and congratulate him, but he only has eyes for me. The section that we’re sitting in is set up almost like a VIP, so we’re not sitting on top of each other. It leaves just enough room for him to squeeze in and wrap his arms around me once he makes it to me. He lifts me off my feet and carries me back the way that he came. I can’t help the laugh that comes from my belly. Grabbing both sides of his sweaty face, I kiss him for all that he’s worth right there in the middle of a sea of people.

I feel his smile light his face before he even pulls away. The next thing I know, he is handing me over the rail to a waiting Teagan. He doesn’t kiss me, but he throws an arm around my shoulders and tucks me underneath, just as Goose jumps the rail and lands beside us. Lucas and Maverick walk up both carrying two helmets.

“You guys were fucking great,” I tell them.

The smiles that I get in return, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them being directed at me. I have to be the luckiest fucking person in the world. A camera man steps in front of us, and I try to duck behind Goose, who’s standing close enough to touch. In return, he snakes an arm around my waist, so that I’m squished between him and Teagan.

“Smile, baby girl,” Mav’s deep voice whispers in my ear from behind us.

I wouldn’t disobey that voice, even if I wanted to. The flash goes off, and I take half a second to pray to all that is holy that my face won’t show what was crossing my mind at that exact moment. That would be embarrassing to find in the local paper tomorrow. I shake my head and groan, without realizing that I’d done so out loud.

“What is it, babe?” Goose asks as we start walking toward the locker room.

“Nothing,” I answer quickly. There’s no way in hell I want to tell them that I just pictured Mav throwing me down on the green grass and fucking me right there in front of them. Nope, this is not the place for that conversation, so I shake my head at him.

He shrugs as he looks down at me, but I see the smirk that he’s trying to hide.

We flow into the hallway leading to the locker room, and they all place a kiss somewhere on my head before heading inside with the rest of their teammates. One of the PR ladies from the team motions for me to follow her into a side room. We learned the hard way that if I stand out there to wait on them, it prompts the paparazzi and news people to try to get an interview from me. Not like I’m anyone, but I’m sure a story of the four new star players all sharing the same girlfriend would sell better than magic at a Harry Potter convention.

I thank her as she gets ready to walk back out. All I get in return is a nod and a slight sneer. Wow, someone seems a little jealous. Sitting down at the small table, I check the messages on my phone. As always, Ry’s name is at the top. I laugh to myself as I read through her texts. They all sound like what I was yelling out on the field. The last one is the one that really gets me though.

YAY!!! Victory Sex! Text me 2mrw!

I can’t even bring myself to answer her, because she doesn’t know just how close she hit the head on the nail. The guys are always so amped up after a game that we barely make it through the door of the house before one of them jumps me. It could also possibly have something to do with the fact that they aren’t allowed to live with me at the house during the week.

The house that they rented for all of us to share is a quick few minutes from my campus, but a thirty-minute drive for them. We had every intention of all of us being there to share the space, but coaches had different plans. None of the freshmen are allowed to stay off campus on school nights. Apparently, even the rich star players. They’re all in mostly different classes, so they’ll trickle in at different times of the day, but they’ve always got to be back in their dorms before ten. If they break curfew, then they don’t play the next week. It’s kind of shit, but we can’t risk them not getting to play. So, they make up for it and spend every weekend with me.

Sometimes, we’ll go to the club or bar with the rest of the team after the game on Saturdays. More often than not, though, we just go home, where I get the four of them all to myself. What girl would complain about that?

I spend the next twenty minutes just scrolling through my Facebook that the guys had helped me set up. Up until a year ago, I didn’t have any social media. Shit, I didn’t even have a cell phone. Growing up poor in the trailer park, there were a lot of things that I didn’t have. Not that I felt that I needed them, either. At least, not until the guys walked into my life. They have me living the life that I should be and not caught in the vicious trap of depression. It took a while to get over the loss of my first three loves, the Vanpelt brothers. I thought that would be one of the worst pains in my life, but that was before my Gramps died earlier this year of lung cancer. If the guys hadn’t been there for me, I’m not sure that I would have recovered from that one.

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