Read Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance for Free Online

the wicked don't always get theirs in the end, so if they give you something, liberate it and be glad it ain't theirs no more.
    I sighed and pulled out my ID, holding it out to the bouncer and letting him slap me with a bright blue Under 21 bracelet. Of course, everyone who was actually twenty-one had their own bracelet, but I'd heard from Chelease that there was big money in the club for trading the two around. Whatever. I wasn't here to drink.
    I stepped inside to Meghan Trainor's “NO” and made myself smile. The old me, she approached any social situation with a scowl and a series of retorts ready to rapid fire. I reminded myself that I was different now, that even though I still had a core of steel, I could show the world a smile.
    I moved through the bumping, writhing bodies of the crowd, surprised to see the place so packed, and found a spot at the counter. I ordered a soda, just so I wouldn't feel out of place when everyone else had drinks in their hands, and settled myself in to people watch for a while.
    As usual, the place was packed with people in green and yellow, sporting the giant yellow 'O' that served as a logo for our school and their infamous Pac-12 football team. The décor was a startling contrast to all that color with black-on-black-on-black. Walls, floor and ceiling made an even canvas for the bright burst of bodies twisting and syncing to the music. Overhead, a chandelier dripped in green and yellow crystal. Yet another nod to the team. Otherwise, the place could've been a club from Anywhere, USA. That was okay by me since I was from Nowhere, USA. To some, it might've been boring. To me, it was the best nightlife I'd ever seen in person.
    I took a sip of my soda, tucking the blue straw between lips traced in glossy black and splashed with glittery bursts of red. The splatters looked messy and accidental, but they were oh-so-purposeful.
    “Those lips are killer!” a girl said as she whisked by, clearly buzzed and enjoying the evening. Still, I basked in the compliment and let her take a selfie with me. “You should come dance,” she said after we'd finished posing together, double duck faces and all. I let her lead me out on the floor, feeding off the wild party vibe that was filling the air.
    I wanted a college experience and damn Tyce Winship to hell, I was going to get one.
    “Mind if I join you?” a guy said, squeezing in behind me and smiling wide, a pair of drinks in his hand. “Couldn't help but notice the bummer bracelet,” he continued, nodding his chin at me and the bright blue slash on my wrist. I stared back at him, my new friend still twerking next to me while I gazed at the statuesque wall of muscle next to me. “Kai Duran,” he added, introducing himself as I continued to gawk.
    The man was as tall as Tyce, maybe even taller, with a sexy scruffy blond goatee and a headful of pale hair. It was slicked back and wonderfully reminiscent of Alexander Skarsgård's character Eric in True Blood. This time when I stood there in shocked surprised, I got a gentleman instead of an asshole.
    “If you want, I've got a rum and coke with your name on it,” Kai said, holding out the drink. “Or at the very least, a dance.” I kept staring at him, taking in the black Swoosh shirt he was wearing, the dark jeans, the matching Nike sneakers. He had a wide chest and generously sculpted arms, ice blue eyes and a narrow mouth. He made up for that last one with a ridiculously kind smile and a cheerful attitude.
    I liked him right away.
    “Sorry,” I said after I realized I was still staring. “Teagan Fletcher,” I held out a hand and took the drink from Kai's big hand. “I think I'll say yes to both the drink and the dance if you don't mind.”
    “Right on,” he said, lifting up his glass for a toast. I clinked our cups together and downed a good half of my drink in one go, letting Kai set them both aside on one of the tall black tables nearby. When he pulled me back onto the dance floor,