Sex Vows & Babies: No Regrets (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Rochelle Paige Popovic and Elle Christensen. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Sex, Vows & Babies remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Rochelle Paige Popovic and Elle Christensen, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  No Regrets

  HJ Bellus

  Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  1. Ryder

  2. Shayne

  3. Shayne

  4. Shayne

  5. Ryder

  6. Shayne

  7. Ryder

  8. Shayne

  9. Ryder

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World! In this combination of my Sex & Vows and Yeah, Baby series, we’ll bring you new books by some truly amazing authors. From sexy stories of married couples fighting against outside forces to keep their happily ever after, to unexpected pregnancies that lead to forever afters… the Sex, Vows & Babies world is full of over the top alphas, sassy heroines, insta-love, wedding bells, and growing families. Although the wide cast of characters in both series have managed to find love, there’s plenty more out there who could use Sex, Vows & Babies in their lives—like the couple in this story!

  If you’re familiar with the Yeah, Baby and Sex & Vows series, you’ll see a familiar face (or more) in this story. I am so excited this author agreed to bring their storytelling talent to the Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World! However, please keep in mind that this book is entirely the work of the author, and I didn’t have any part in the process of writing this book.

  For more about the world, stop by the Sex, Vow, & Babies website: http://www.fionadavenport.com/kindle-worlds/.

  Happy reading!

  Fiona Davenport

  (Elle Christensen & Rochelle Paige)

  Prologue

  Shayne

  I just knew once he returned home from winning the National Championship in Arizona, he’d tell my father about us. I stayed back home with Rowe and Baylor since they weren’t ready to fly after the accident. Ryder and I have cooled off a bit taking a step back.

  Why, you ask?

  Football. The dreaded F word that I hate with every single bone in my body. Ryder wants to be with me, but isn’t willing to screw with his career. See, my dad is his coach. Coach Pete, the most revered man in the nation when it comes to college football and Ryder is his right hand man.

  Standing here at the parade just waiting for Ryder to make eye contact, so much hope, desire, and passion flows through me. It’s our time. We can do this. I’m dedicated to my career in gymnastics and him to football, and we have one thing in common—our love for each other.

  Rowe squeals next to me when she spots State walking to us. On cue, he bends down with arms wide open and she bursts into them. It’s like a walking Hallmark movie on steroids when State scoops her up and strides right over to Baylor laying a sloppy, sexy kiss on his woman’s face.

  Ryder is a few steps behind State causing butterflies to erupt low in my stomach. It’s our time. I keep chanting it over and over in my head. I go to open my mouth congratulating him, steadying my legs to leap into his arms.

  Then he does what Ryder always does best.

  He gives me a nod then turns his back. A blonde cheerleader wraps him up in a hug. My father pats his back like the proud coach he should be. And I’m left in the shadows like always.

  1

  Ryder

  One Year Later

  I’m not impressed one single fucking bit. I’ve avoided this girl for the last year even though she consumes my thoughts every single second of the day. We shared a few kisses and several private moments, but I was never man enough to go for what I wanted, and that was her and only her.

  Football has always been my life and will forever be. Two world collegiate titles to my name and slated to be a first-round pick in the NFL draft should be enough for any man. The word ‘should’ is an evil bitch.

  “I’m so glad you made it.” Momma Pete reaches over and pats the top of my leg. “Miss seeing you around with the rest of the boys. You know just because your college football is over and you’re going into the NFL, you are still family, Ryder.”

  If only she knew the hunger I had for her daughter and the way I hurt her.

  I nod politely tamping down my frustration. “Thanks.”

  State elbows me then sends me a death glare. My best friend knows me all too well. He can read my internal dialogue as if I had a microphone to my lips spilling it to the universe on the World Wide Web.

  My choice was one with little deciding factor after Baylor, State’s wife, became best friends with Shayne Peterson. It didn’t take the two of them long to form the bond. It was natural and automatic. They were two lost souls in the world and found comfort in each other. I’m the only chicken shit in this scenario.

  It made the whole sneaking around thing damn near impossible.

  Didn’t want to piss off the coach by dating his daughter. We shared several stolen kisses in complete private and sworn to secrecy. Team dynamics is one thing I wasn’t willing to risk. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself over and over. Pissing off the coach would have done just that.

  No matter how much pushing and shoving State and Baylor could muster up over the last year, I stayed away, only showing up to important events that couldn’t be weaseled out of.

  “How’s Shayne’s ACL?” Baylor’s question breaks through my thoughts.

  I glance over to Momma Pete to see her only shrug and then grimace. “She’s strong and will be just fine.”

  “No Coach Pete?” Baylor asks another question.

  I have to hand it to the girl, since reuniting with State she’s grown a pair of balls and isn’t afraid to put them on full display. It’s not a secret that Shayne and her father don’t see eye to eye and it’s left up to Momma Pete to referee the two of them on a constant basis. Coach Pete is one hell of a football coach, hell, the best in the nation. I idolize the man. He’s more of a father than my drunk ass sperm donor ever has been.

  But it’s all about football in his world, and he has no time for anything else including his own daughter. It was just another dagger to her heart when I wasn’t man enough to step up to the plate for her when it came to her dad.

  I chose football over a person that lit up my world. She stormed into and out of it. Nothing has been the same since. I’ve given a whole new meaning to the world hollow.

  “He’s busy today.” Momma Pete waves her hand in the air. “Spring meetings and all that jazz.”

  I focus my vision back down on the mats watching a collegiate gymnast balance on the beams. This shit is foreign to me. I eat, sleep, and breathe the emerald turf, pads, and pigskin. It’s my life.

  Universities from all over the nation have gathered here today for the National finals. Our school is hosting the event. I cringe at the thought knowing this makes it that much harder on Shayne knowing her own father, who is a God on this campus, isn’t here watching her. It’s her final performance of her senior year. To her, it’s the damn Super Bowl. The final end game.

  She used to it, and that fact is sad and sickening causing pain to strike deep in my soul. He has never shown up to one of her collegiate matches because of…f
ootball. Hell, the man even gave her a boy name since he wanted one so damn bad.

  I have no right to feel anything anyway since I never claimed her. Our attraction was immediate. I’ve never been able to rid her taste and smell from my system.

  “She’s leading the all-around. She needs to nail down the beam and floor routine. If she can place in the top two in either of those events, then she’ll nail her dreams.” Momma Pete clutches her chest in nerves.

  Baylor leans over squeezing her to her side. “She’s worked her ass off. Our girl has this one in the bag.”

  Our girl.

  Who knew two words could slice open a grown-ass man so brutally and deeply. I rise to my feet fast needing to get the fuck out of here. I try to escape not offering up any explanation. I hear Baylor say something right as I make eye contact with the prettiest baby blues eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re an identical image of the ones that haunt my dreams nightly. A reminder of what’s missing in my world…her.

  It only takes Shayne a quick moment to realize from the floor that I’m leaving. It devastates me. I slowly sit back down in my seat and feel the whole word click into place when a relaxed expression covers her features. I offer her a slight a nod from the front row, and she ignores it focusing back on her coach.

  The girl is a spitfire, strong-willed, determined, and takes no bullshit. She’s not one to hide or back away from a challenge. She refused to be my secret. Deep down that made my chest swell with pride. Too bad I was the pussy then.

  I study her as she peels out of her gym pants and hoodie. Her dark blue leotard hugs her body perfectly. The pristine temple my hands roamed only a few times. The same body that’s burned my palms making it impossible for me to touch any other girl.

  My girl.

  Her name is announced over the speaker, and she prances to the mat. Shayne is all finesse and business as she begins her routine. I knew from the second I saw her face I was in love. It was quick, but at this moment as she takes the beam I know it’s going to be even faster making her officially mine.

  There’s a score that needs to be settled. I don’t lose.

  I’m not sure how I don’t pass out when Shayne begins to fly across the beam in back handsprings. I have to remind myself to breathe. Every single one of my muscles flexes and I’m strung taut sitting in a damn chair watching her. I don’t miss it when she lands one of her big moves on the beam while nursing her right knee. She masks the pain on her face with perfection, but I don’t miss her tiny dent in that armor she wears so well.

  “God, this is it,” Momma Pete says.

  Shayne’s perfect body springs from the beam contorting into twists, flips, and spins and all kinds of shit. The air between her and the mat is unreal. Baylor slaps her palm over her mouth right when Shayne nails her landing with ease and perfection.

  Her two arms fly up into the air gracefully with her head held high ending her routine. The gym goes wild with cheers and screams. Everyone is up on their feet congratulating their hometown girl. I cringe on the inside feeling the pain she’s feeling. I’m an athlete and know all too well when something is wrong. She’s hurt.

  Once the applaud dies down, Shayne limps off the mat to the sideline. Her coach meets her halfway helping her off the mat. There’s a hushed muffle that floats around the gym when the spectators take it all in.

  “She’s fine,” Momma Pete says over and over trying to reassure herself.

  As Shayne nears the sideline making it closer to where we sit in the stands I know, it’s not fine. There are a few tears accompanied with pain painting her face.

  “It’s my knee.”

  I hear her say. The rest of the gym watches the next few competitors. Her mom leans over the railing talking and listening to her coaches. Shayne peers up into the stands while her coaches and assistants help her get dressed.

  Momma Pete sits back down with tears rolling down her face. She digs through her purse like a snake ready to strike with poisonous venom. The three of us watch her as she dials someone.

  “I hope your damn meeting was worth it. She’s hurt. Our baby is injured and has one more routine, and you’re an asshole.”

  I reach over and take the phone from her ear. From all my years in high stake situations like this one anger has no place. It’s my job to lead a team to victory. I’m the quarterback, leader, and glue that holds shit together. It’s time to fucking step up.

  “Coach.”

  “Who the hell is this?"

  “Ryder.”

  “Uh?”

  “I’m here with your wife, and she needs you. Your daughter needs you. Man up.”

  Six months ago I only dreamt about being brave enough to speak those words to him.

  “Excuse me? Boy, you better back the fu…”

  “I respect you. You’re like a father to me, but with all due respect Shayne needs you right now.” I pause steadying myself for the hail mary of a lifetime. “You also need to know I’m in love with Shayne and I’m going to make her mine.”

  I end the call not waiting for his response. Three sets of eyes bore holes into me, and I couldn’t care less.

  2

  Shayne

  “It’s fine.” I push away from my coach and walk the rest of the way to the locker room. “Fucking pain.”

  It’s to the point of blinding. I felt the tear on the beam and the final rip on the dismount. I will not cry or give into fear. Years of hours spent at the gym will not be wasted on one knee injury.

  I throw my Beat headphones on and get lost in the music. The sports medicine team pays attention to my swelling knee. I feel ice hit and it begins to numb the pain. I’m handed some pills to swallow, and I know it’s a high dose of ibuprofen to help with the swelling.

  I run over my upcoming routine floor routine in my mind. Picture my body flying through the air and landing strong. My mind is stronger than my pain. I repeat this fact over and over in my thoughts until I believe it myself.

  A hand taps my shoulder and even though I wish to ignore it, I can’t. It’s go time right now. I look up to see my dad. One of my shaky hands pulls the headphone from my left ear. I stare at him half in shock and the other half in fear.

  “Is something wrong with mom?” I ask.

  It’s the only reason he’d be here. My dad quit coming to my gymnastic meets way back in middle school. It was no secret he wanted a boy, and his life was out on the turf. Just thinking about football makes me ill. Ryder, what in the hell was he doing here? Baylor must have drugged his ass to get him in the stands.

  I was in love with Ryder awhile back until I realized he’d never stand up to my father. He was more worried about the “F” word…football. All the men in my life have been.

  “No, honey she’s fine.”

  I clear my throat now completely lost and take my headphones off the rest of the way. My father kneels before, breaking our eye contact to study my knee for himself. I sit null and void of any emotions. Lost. He doesn’t belong here.

  “Why are you here?” I don’t mask any of the harshnesses in my voice.

  “Shayne.” He runs his hands through his thick, dark brown hair searching for his words.

  My college coach, Ahren, stands up before us with my dad still knelt down. “He’s always here, Shayne. I’m tired of holding this secret. I’ve done it for years now. But Coach Pete, your daughter needs you.”

  Daughter, a term to use loosely.

  She steps away as does the sports medicine team once my knee has been rubbed down with oils and ice securely wrapped around it. My knee is officially numb while my insides roil with anger.

  “Your coach is right.” He stands and sits next to me on the bench grabbing my hand. “I’ve been to every single home meet of yours…”

  I cut him off because I can’t stand to hear him speak the words. “Unless it interferes with football.”

  He nods solemnly and then continues. “I never wanted my name and clout at the university to interfere with your career. T
his is all you, Shayne. I’d been pissed if your coaches pulled strings because of Coach Pete or because the football team had a winning season. The sad fact is that shit happens all the time. I have no right to impede on your gymnastics career. It’s always been you working your ass off in that gym. I’ve been here Shayne. I know the rings give you hell and you hate Marci on your team, but act professionally at all times.”

  He did it. He left me speechless. When football and gymnastics are typically brought up in the same conversation, there’s a war between the two of us where I never back down. Until now.

  “I know you hate me, Shayne. I know I’ve put football over everything and everyone. It’s my life, and I love it. But I also love you and your mother very much.” He drops his head to his chest in defeat. “I’m fucking this up.”

  This is a rare sight. My father, the most revered college coach in the nation, defeated and humbled in front of his daughter. I can’t remember the last time he told me he loved me or the last chance I gave him the opportunity. I’m not innocent by any means.

  “I’m scared, Dad.” I lace my fingers in his and feels the tears begin to slide down my cheeks.

  He turns to look at me, and I feel no shame for the tears. I’ve never shown defeat to anyone. It’s been a well-perfected skill to hide that shit and show the world a brave Shayne Peterson. My dad reaches up and wipes away a few tears before he speaks again.

  “No need to be scared. You have this. You are going to go out onto that mat and give the performance of a lifetime. The national title has your name on it. I’ve always believed that. It’s your time.”

  “What if my knee gives out?”

  “Then it gives out, and you know that you did your best, honey.”

  “Dad, I’m sorry for being an ass all these years.”