Dirty Curve Read Online Meagan Brandy

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
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“Let’s go!” Coach blows his whistle, but I simply look over my shoulder at him.

He lowers his clipboard, eyeing me. “You got a problem, son?”

When I do nothing but spit to the side, he starts walking toward me.

My head is fucking pounding and it hurts to breathe. I’m thinking all kinds of crazy shit and I’m probably falling down a rabbit hole that I’ve imagined. All I know is I’m pissed off at everything and everyone, and I don’t have the mental capacity for this shit right now.

So I shoulder past the man.

Fuck this.

“Tobias ... Tobias!”

I don’t acknowledge him and I don’t go back into the locker room.

I abandon all my shit and walk off the field, straight out the gate, his eyes burning into my back all the way.

I go home, shower, and collapse in bed.

All I wanted four months ago was to end the year with a winning season and go pro.

Now, all I want is to look Meyer in the eye and hear her say she wants me, that I'm worth it. That I'm worth more. That she believes in me, chooses me, and knows in her heart I can be what she needs, what Bailey needs.

But that’s not going to happen, because I’ve been reminded of what I have been told time and time again

I'm not good enough.

I’m not worthy.

I wish I could see Bailey, kiss her chubby little cheeks, and make her understand I’m not leaving her, but her mama is leaving me.

All I know is I can’t go back to before they were mine.

The guy the world has seen over the last few days is who I am now.

This is the new me.

The me who isn’t wanted by her.

I fall asleep, knowing it’s all downhill from here.

CHAPTER 29

Meyer

“Bailey.” I lean over to grab the apple piece she snatched off of my plate, but she’s already got the thing pulled to her mouth.

Her eyes go wide, and she tightens her little muscles in an attempt to hold on to it.

“Okay, okay. Hang on.” I pry it from her fingers, checking the ends to make sure no part of it will break off and turn it, letting her run her swollen gums across it. It doesn’t take long for it to soften, and I have to take it away.

She throws herself back on her blanket, and begins to fake cry, something she’s recently discovered helps her get what she wants.

“Bailey, baby girl. Stop.” I pick her up, but she bends her back, and if I didn’t have a good hold on her, she might have just fallen out of my arms. “It’s okay, mama. Shh.”

Bouncing my upper body, I pat her little butt, offering her Binky and slowly she starts to calm, but I can’t.

She’s been increasingly testy the last few days and I can’t help but feel like I’m at fault.

They say babies can sense stress, and I’ve been nothing but a basket case.

She’s sleeping less, as am I, and it’s not good for her.

It’s not good for either of us.

How can me doing what’s right by her feel so wrong when I look at her?

I run my palm over her soft hair, and slowly she settles against me.

Tears spring into my eyes and I look to the ceiling to stop them. I should place her in her bed, but I can’t bring myself to move. I just want to hold her a little longer.

But then there’s a knock on my door.

My breath lodges in my throat and I tense, begrudgingly easing Bailey down on her play pad beneath me.

A second knock comes, and I push to my feet, my pulse beating wildly.

Bianca has a key, so she wouldn’t knock.

There’s only one other person it could be, and I haven’t laid eyes on him since I looked into his and lied my ass off.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand as I reach for the handle, but even then I pause, wondering if he’ll give up and go away, but then a third knock follows and so I tug the door open.

My heart falls to my feet as I look up into a completely different pair of blue eyes.

“Where is he?” Coach Reid snaps. “Where is Tobias?”

My shoulders lift, and I shake my head. “I don’t know—”

“No lie,” he seethes, attempting to sidestep me into my house, but I snap out of it and slide with him.

I jerk out the door, tugging it closed behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He tugs back, brow raised. “Am I not allowed in your home?”

“No.” A humorless laugh leaves me. “You’re not.”

“I’m not, yet he is?”

My spine straightens and he narrows his eyes.

“You know nothing. You sit back and revel in the fact that I’m stuck under your thumb, the same way you tried to get Milo there.”


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