One Kiss to Win: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Read online

  One Kiss to Win

  A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  Romi Hart

  Copyright © 2017 by Romi Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred.

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  Contents

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  One Kiss To Win

  1. Laney

  2. Jett

  3. Laney

  4. Jett

  5. Laney

  6. Jett

  7. Laney

  8. Jett

  9. Laney

  10. Jett

  11. Laney

  12. Jett

  13. Laney

  14. Jett

  15. Laney

  16. Jett

  17. Laney

  18. Jett

  Epilogue

  Note from the Author

  Big Slide

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Dangerous Play

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

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  * * *

  One Kiss To Win

  1

  Laney

  The morning air was crisp and cool as fall classes had begun. I was in a new city, going to a new school, and feeling excited about the big changes I’d made. It was as if my future career was much closer at hand than it had been. I cradled the books for my first two classes in my arms, the weight of my back pack a little lighter with them out of it.

  It was my first day of class at the Haas School of Business. I had to admit I was intimidated. Berkeley’s Haas was consistently one of the top business schools in the nation after all. I had checked US News and World’s Ranking Reports every year since I was in seventh grade.

  I was a junior transfer student from the University of Florida. The urban Berkeley campus was much different from what I was used to back in Gainesville where students occasionally spotted alligators rambling on campus. There were no alligators at Berkeley, just a lot of unnervingly smart people.

  My mom was a geology professor at the University of Florida. Academically, she felt my transfer to Berkeley was a great decision, but as my mother, I could tell she was worried how I would do so far away from home for the first time, all the way across the country. I promised her that I wouldn’t let her down.

  Mom had battled her way through undergrad and graduate school as a single mother. I didn’t have any of the same issues as she did, a small child to care for and zero child support, so I intended to make her proud.

  My stomach was tightly wound in knots as I walked to my first class, Microeconomic Analysis for Business Decisions. I passed rows and rows of tables set up for various clubs and activist groups. I dodged a few students who were handing out flyers. Before I joined any club or extracurricular activity, I needed to assess how hard my semester was going to be. As a junior transfer student, I needed to have top-notch grades to prove to everyone that although I hadn't gotten in as a freshman, I rightfully belonged there now as a hard-working junior.

  Haas was set up on the southeastern edge of Berkeley’s campus on its own mini-campus. The mini-campus was made up of three connected modern looking buildings that surrounded a central courtyard. I liked how Haas was set up like a miniature village with a town square. With the muted colors of nature: warm tones of deep green, grey-green, and reddish brown, I got a subtle sense of community as I walked around there.

  Despite my nerves, I was feeling optimistic about my first day. My mom always told me to wake up with a positive attitude. Even if I had doubts or was full of anxiety. I could hear her words echoing in my mind, ‘It’s important to be positive and believe in yourself.’ That’s my mom. She was the most glass half full person I’d ever met in my life.

  In the courtyard, I walked by a beefy guy who looked me over indiscreetly.

  Geez, can he be more obvious? Where are all the gentlemen of my generation? Do they even exist anymore?

  I did my best to not draw too much attention to myself. I had put my hair up in a ponytail and wore demure, conservative clothes. It had always made me uncomfortable to draw attention to myself.

  I entered Chou Hall and waited in the hallway for my very first class to start, nerves crawling around my insides like worms. It was a weird anticipation I was feeling. So unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

  Using my mother’s sage advice, I let myself feel all the nervous energy without trying to put it out of my head. I was on the cusp of what I had always dreamt about. I was in the college I had always wanted to be a part of.

  Finally.

  The beefy guy who’d been eyeing me walked into the same hallway and leaned up on the wall directly across from me. He stared right at me without any sense of self-awareness, or maybe he just didn’t care that he was so ridiculously obvious.

  I continued to ignore him, angling myself so I didn’t have to look at him looking at me. I took my iPhone out and looked over the syllabus. The class, Microeconomic Analysis, was being taught by Hal Varian, the Chief Economist at Google. I was thrilled to be taking a class he was teaching. That was one of the major reasons I wanted to transfer to Berkeley was because of its proximity to Silicon Valley.

  I would’ve loved to work for a startup. The tech world fascinated me from a business perspective. An innovative idea could fall flat if not managed and marketed correctly. Steve Jobs was an inspiration to me. I read his biography three times.

  The class before mine streamed out of the auditorium door when the beefy guy approached me. “Hey, are you a junior transfer?”

  I grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”

  He flung his head back in a laugh; his long dark bangs swung out of his eyes. He had a nice laugh and was admittedly gorgeous now that I was actually looking at him. He had broad shoulders and was muscular with large dark, brooding eyes. "No. Not at all. It's just that the Haas is pretty tight-knit. I haven't seen you here before."

  I edged my way into the auditorium, dodging the straggling students from the previous class who are still making their way out. The beefy guy grabbed my arm and lightly pulled me towards the back. “Come sit with me.” The smile that covered his plump lips was beckoning me to take him up on his offer.

  But I wasn’t there to meet guys. I tugged my arm back from him. “Thanks, but I like to sit in the front.” I gave him a curt smile so as not to offend him, but I wasn’t going to be sidetracked by anyone.

  He shrugged his wide shoulders as his gazed at me and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Okay, I’m Troy by the way.”

  “Laney.” I started to walk away from him but stopped as I heard someone shouting.


  "Brick House!" A broad-shouldered Latino guy yelled at Troy from the back of the auditorium.

  Troy waved and smiled at him, and I looked at Troy in confusion. “Brick House?”

  Troy shook his head sheepishly. “It’s my nickname. I’m captain of the wrestling team.”

  A jock. Of course.

  I walked away from him down the aisle. “I see.”

  “Can I show you around sometime?” he called out after me.

  Stopping, I turned around. “That’s really nice of you, Troy, but I’m okay. I worked really hard to transfer to this program, and I’m going to be studying a lot.” I felt it was best he knew I wasn’t playing hard to get, I was on a mission and boys weren’t a part of it.

  “Okay. Maybe we can study together then?” Troy was persistent. I had to give him that. From the looks of him, he could probably get any girl he wanted. But he seemed to want me. That would leave him very disappointed.

  I decided not to dash the guy’s hopes altogether. “Maybe. We’ll see. Thanks.” I continued down the aisle and took a seat in the front row. A few minutes later, Professor Varian arrived.

  Troy might’ve been a nice guy. Although, he was a jock so maybe not, but I was so focused on doing well in school that I couldn’t afford to find out much about him.

  When class was over, I looked at my map of the Haas buildings to figure out where my next class, Competitive Strategy, was. Troy sidled up next to me. He really wasn’t one for giving up easily. “You have another class right after this one?”

  Putting down the map, I knew I had an even better way to find my next class, thanks to Troy’s avid attention. “I do. It’s Competitive Strategy.”

  Troy’s eyes lit up. “I have that class too. I’ll walk you. You can put your map away.” The grin he wore told me he thought he’d achieved some big step with me. A thing I found funny.

  Jock or not, he’d be useful for directions, at the very least. “Great. Thanks,” I said to him trying to sound grateful, but not too grateful to give him any ideas.

  Walking next to me, Troy was fiddling with the loops of his backpack. “Do you have plans for lunch after this class?”

  Thinking quick, I came up with something, “I have a study date.”

  His face fell, making me feel a bit bad for what I’d said. “Really?”

  I decided to lighten up a bit. “Yup. With myself. I packed an impressive peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple that I plan to eat on Sproul Plaza while I study.”

  The jock looked confused as he wore a puzzled expression. “Study? It’s only the first day of class.”

  With a grin, I shrugged. “Exactly. I don’t want to fall behind before we have even really started.”

  We had made it to the next classroom and Troy politely stepped aside to let me walk in first. For a jock, he, at least, had manners. “Do you want a study buddy while you eat?”

  He was persistent, but I was not about to be derailed. “Not today. Thanks.”

  As I walked in, a guy with wavy blonde hair that hung to his shoulders caught my eye. He was standing around with some equally broad shouldered dudes. One of the guys said something making all of them laugh including the dreamy blonde guy. I made brief eye contact with his gorgeous sky blue eyes before I looked away embarrassed.

  Troy stood next to me. For a second, the two men regarded each other without saying anything. Troy’s face screwed up into revulsion while the blonde guy’s beautiful blue eyes narrowed dismissively.

  Troy leaned down, his lips far too close to my ear. “Stay away from that guy. He’s bad news. He only has one thing on his mind… As much ass as he can get.”

  As Troy told me that important tidbit of information, the gorgeous guy looked at me again and smiled. His smile made me melt inside. I tried to keep my cool, but I could feel sweat prickling on the back of my neck. “Is that so?”

  Troy’s mouth was still too close as he went on, “He’s the quarterback. Trust me. He plows anything with a pulse.”

  Even though I had just been strongly cautioned about the hot guy who was smiling at me, I smiled back at the quarterback before I knew I was doing it. I covered my mouth with my hand, but couldn’t stop smiling. He was just too beautiful in that All American way.

  Troy was probably right about the quarterback guy, but honestly Troy was probably after as much ass as he could get too.

  Troy tried to lead me to back of the classroom, but I jerked my head to the front. “That’s right, you’re a front row girl.”

  Heading up to the front of the class, I left Troy to his back row. “Yup, I always have been.”

  I took a seat in the middle of the front row. Oliver Williamson, who had won the 2009 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences, taught the class. Professor Williamson won the Nobel for developing a theory where business firms served as structures for conflict resolution.

  I looked over the syllabus of the class: ‘Using the basic tools of game theory, we will perform analysis on how businesses choose strategies to attain competitive advantage.’

  Game theory was the study of human conflict and cooperation within a competitive situation. It was mostly used in economics, political science, and business but had been applied to logic, computer science, and biology.

  I thought of the two guys who were sitting behind me. One was the captain of the wrestling team, and the other was the quarterback of the football team. Both were ridiculously gorgeous. I wondered if the game theory had ever been applied to love and romance.

  Professor Williamson entered the classroom. I pushed away my thoughts of the guys and romance and took out my notebook and pen. I was there to learn after all. Guys come and go, but my education would stay with me forever.

  2

  Jett

  I had never seen her before, which was one of the reasons why she caught my eye when she walked into Competitive Strategy. The other reason was she was insanely beautiful. A rocking body with curves for days, she had pretty hazel eyes and long blonde curly hair. Her hair was up in a ponytail. I wondered what she looked like when it was all down, flowing around her narrow shoulders.

  I bet her hair smells good too.

  She seemed like the kind of girl who had hair that smelled like flowers and strawberries.

  I tried to focus on Professor Williamson. I was stoked to be taking a class of his. He was the man who had developed the idea of information impactedness, which was a condition that occurred when a buyer and seller had knowledge of private information when they took part in complex contracting. Information impactedness was relevant to information asymmetry, where the distribution of information in the marketplace was uneven.

  I had been thinking a lot about transactions and contracts since I hoped to be drafted into the NFL. I understood the importance of receiving a solid education. My professional football career would end one day or, God forbid, never start for some reason.

  I listened to Williamson, but kept my eye on the new girl. It was hard not to since she was sitting in the front row. Her blonde ponytail was a beacon. I couldn’t keep looking at the back of her head. She was with Brick House of all people when she walked in.

  How are they friends? How did he even get to her so quickly?

  It was the first day of the semester after all.

  I’ve got to stop thinking about this girl and pay attention.

  Brick House was such an asshole though. I would’ve hated to see such a beautiful girl with that prick.

  Williamson wrote on the chalkboard as he began to speak, “What is strategy? This week, we will look at the different ways to determine the best or dominant strategy. We will review basic concepts of game theory, but I assume most of you should already be familiar with the game theory fundamentals. We will also discuss Nash Equilibrium and Prisoners’ Dilemma, concepts that you should also be well versed with. If not, please do your own research to get up to speed with the rest of the class.”

  It was hard not to immediately think of football whe
n talking about strategy. I read an article in ‘The Economist’ after the Seattle Seahawks lost the Super Bowl in 2015 defending Pete Carroll’s decision to run the pass play that inevitably cost them the championship. Proper application of game theory and serious number crunching supported Carroll’s decision despite thousands of critics who called his decision the worst play call in Super Bowl history.

  After Williamson’s class, I hung back a bit to let the new girl get in front of me. I was not being a stalker. I just wanted to see where she was going. I knew that probably sounded like something a stalker would say. But I was just being curious, not out to spy on her or anything weird like that. She just kept drawing my attention without even trying to. I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  Out of nowhere, Brick House snaked in beside her.

  Dammit, I hate that guy.

  I could hear what they are saying. “You still studying for lunch?” Troy asked her.

  The new girl smiled politely. “Yup. I’m still sticking to my lunch plans.”

  “Still don’t want any company?” Troy persisted.

  “I’m good. Thanks for the offer again, Troy, but like I said before, I prefer to eat alone today.” She let him down easy, but her voice was undeniably firm in her rejection.

  I wanted to jump up and down and cheer. Instead, I held in my excitement and hung back a bit behind some other students as I followed them.