All In (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 1) Read online

  All in

  The Kings of Kroydon Hills

  Bella Matthews

  Copyright © 2020

  Bella Matthews

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in the critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This book contains mature themes and is only suitable for 18+ readers.

  ASIN: B08KYBLVPG

  Editor: Liana Brooks Editing Services

  Copy Editor: Light Hand Proofreading

  Cover Designer: Olivia Pro Designs

  Interior Formatting: Peachy Keen Author Services

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Brady

  2. Natalie

  3. Natalie

  4. Brady

  5. Brady

  6. Natalie

  7. Natalie

  8. Brady

  9. Natalie

  10. Brady

  11. Natalie

  12. Brady

  13. Natalie

  14. Brady

  15. Natalie

  16. Brady

  17. Natalie

  18. Natalie

  19. Brady

  20. Natalie

  21. Brady

  22. Natalie

  23. Brady

  24. Brady

  25. Natalie

  26. Brady

  27. Natalie

  28. Natalie

  29. Brady

  30. Natalie

  31. Brady

  32. Natalie

  33. Brady

  34. Natalie

  35. Natalie

  36. Brady

  37. Natalie

  38. Natalie

  39. Brady

  40. Brady

  41. Natalie

  42. Brady

  43. Natalie

  44. Natalie

  45. Natalie

  46. Brady

  47. Brady

  Epilogue

  What’s next?

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  Brady

  “Dude, I think Coach was trying to kill us today.” Walking into Cooper Sinclair’s house, I kick my Nikes off in the mudroom and drop my blue and gold gym bag to the floor. With two weeks to go before senior year starts, our football team has two-a-days, one practice from seven ‘til ten, then a second practice from three ‘til six. I don’t care how much time you spent in the weight room over the summer or how many miles you ran around town in the mornings, these days blow.

  Taking a seat at one of the high backed, black bar stools that line the light wood island in the kitchen, I lean back and thank God for whoever invented air conditioning. The cool air against my still damp hair is doing more for the throbbing in my head than any ibuprofen ever could. The heat and humidity of August in Philadelphia are no joke, and I’m pretty sure it’s Coach Maxwell’s goal to make sure everyone pukes at least once a day, every day.

  It’s Thursday night, and we only have one more day left of Hell this week. Next week’s schedule is slammed, with four days of practice and a scheduled scrimmage. Then, it’s back to school following the Labor Day weekend.

  I am exhausted. My muscles have been pushed to the limit, and my brain feels like it can’t take in any more information, but I don’t say any of that to my teammate, Cooper. I barely manage to catch the ice-cold bottle of water he throws my way.

  Coop transferred in from California halfway through last year, right after his dad got the job as Philly’s new professional football coach. This guy never seems to have a care in the world. “Stop fucking bitching. We’ve got two weeks left until the first game of the season. That’s two more weeks of beer and bitches before we have to get serious for the semester. We are the Kings of Kroydon Hills Prep. Enjoy it.” He doesn’t realize that, as the quarterback, it’s practically my job to be always stressed.

  Coop’s still riding the high of Coach announcing today that the starting tight end position will be his to lose this season. He earned it, and now he’s gotta keep it. The announcement pissed off more than one upperclassman who thought it should have been theirs after last season’s starting tight end graduated. “You sound like a fucking freshman, Coop.”

  “Why don’t you enlighten me, oh wise quarterback?”

  “Oh, wise Captain is more like it, shit head. You’ve gotta get serious at some point.”

  “And you’ve got to lighten up, QB. Live a little.”

  The door slams open as Sebastian and Murphy let themselves into the house. We can hear them dropping their bags and adding their shoes to the growing pile by the mudroom door. Aiden Murphy’s navy-blue Kroydon Prep hat is sitting backward on his ginger head. He’s a few inches shorter than me, Coop and Sebastian… maybe 6’2”. What he lacks in height, he makes up for in bulk. Murph’s freakishly strong. He likes to say he could bench press my little sister’s Fiat. He’s also one of the country's best linebackers, and he wants everyone to know it. “You know QB doesn’t know how to lighten up.”

  He also has a big mouth. “What was taking you assholes so long?”

  Sebastian Beneventi is Murph’s opposite in every way. Bash is an intimidating dude. He’s the tallest of the four of us, standing at 6’6”. He’s the quiet one compared to Murphy’s loudmouth. Murphy, Bash, and I have bonded over the years we’ve lived in this town. We all come from very different, very powerful families. Families like ours tend to run at two ends of the parenting spectrum. They are overly involved in their kid’s lives or not involved at all. Because we all fall into the latter category, we formed our own sort of brotherhood. Coop slid right in with us when he moved to town.

  Before either of them can answer me, a blonde goddess enters the kitchen. She’s tiny. I’m used to short. When you’re 6’4”, everyone seems short. But this girl looks like Tinker Bell. She has golden blonde hair tied up in one of those messy buns that my sister always wears, skintight black leggings are barely covering the most perfectly shaped thighs, and I’m betting are doing a lousy job of hiding a tight little ass.

  An ass that I notice Murphy is currently checking out.

  A green Notre Dame t-shirt is hanging off one tanned shoulder, hinting that those tits, tits that I wish I had a better view of, are bare under there. But her eyes are what are drawing me in; they are the lightest blue I’ve ever seen. They look like a perfect summer sky and are sparkling with unshed tears while she looks at Coop.

  Cooper drops his bottle, practically charging for this girl. Picking her up off of the ground, he spins her around. “Natalie! You told me you weren’t flying in until this weekend.” When he places her back down on her feet, I swear to God, she blushes the prettiest pink and leans into him like she’s going to cry.

  “I missed you so much.” Sniffling, she pulls back after a minute, her face pink and her eyes watery. “I know you are busy with football camp, and Dad is in the middle of preseason right now, so I figured this was the easiest way. The ballet intensive I took this summer ended last week, and Mom and her new boyfriend were talking about flying to Italy, so I thought, why wait? It wasn’t like it was ev
en a long Uber ride from the airport.” She hugs him again. “Seriously, Coop. It wasn’t a big deal. I just wanted to get here. It’s been six months since I’ve seen you and Dad. I didn’t want to wait anymore. I missed you.”

  Placing his arm around his sister’s shoulders, Cooper squeezes her to him. “I missed you too, little sister.”

  Smirking, she tries to push him away. “Hey. I may be smaller, but I’m three minutes older, asshat. Take the little sister stuff and shove it.”

  Murphy jumps in then. “So, this is the infamous Natalie? Hate to break it to you, man, but this girl is way better looking than you are. I thought twins were supposed to look the same?”

  Bash smacks the back of Murphy’s head. “Identical twins look the same. Same sex. Two girls. Two guys. Fraternal twins don’t. Try paying attention in biology this year.”

  Murphy looks pissed. “Yeah, well, we can’t all have photographic memories.”

  Up ‘til now, I was a fly on the wall just taking it all in, but when this girl turns, looks up at me, and smiles, every ounce of will power I have starts to snap like strings on a guitar.

  I am so screwed.

  “Guys, this is my sister Nattie. Stop looking at her like that, Murphy. She is off-limits. Lay a hand on her, and I’ll break every finger.” The grin he gives us all is a little evil and a little serious.

  Damn.

  “Oh my God, Cooper.” This little pixie spins herself out of her brother’s grip. Placing both hands on her hips, she glares at Cooper. “The fact that you, the biggest man whore I know, is saying anyone is off-limits is incredibly hypocritical. Tell me, little brother, how many girls have you hooked up with this summer?” When he doesn’t answer her right away, she crosses her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows, as if to say, I’m waiting.

  “Can the big, strong, jock count that high?” She starts laughing, and the sound is throaty and sexy, not at all what I was expecting to hear.

  I’ve been half-hard since I laid eyes on Natalie, and I’ve never been so grateful for a counter to hide behind in my life. A water bottle gets moved in front of me. Looking up, I see Sebastian trying to hold back a laugh. Fucker. Guess I was staring.

  Clearing his throat, Murphy moves in front of Natalie and bows like he is meeting the Queen of England. “Well, since your brother is against properly introducing us, I’m Aiden Murphy, but everyone calls me Murphy. I’m also known as the best linebacker in the city. This handsome devil to my left is Sebastian Beneventi. If you have any waste management issues, give Bash a call. His Dad’s in the biz.” Murphy winks at her, and I want to punch him in the face.

  Sebastian tenses up immediately. The dude hates when we bust his balls about his dad and his connections.

  “Fuck you, Murphy.” Bash has Murphy in a headlock and on the floor before he knows what hit him. These two fight like brothers more than most brothers I know.

  “Hey assholes, stop rolling around on the floor like it’s some kind of mating ritual.” Cooper’s laughing again.

  Natalie looks up at me and tilts her head as if she is assessing the situation. “And who are you? Let me guess. The quiet guys are always the quarterback. Spending too much time in your head, figuring out everyone’s next play. Am I right?”

  Of course, she has to be perceptive, too, and she is entirely right. Momentarily hesitating, I answer. “Yeah, I’m the quarterback. Brady Ryan. Nice to finally meet you, Natalie. Coop talks about you all of the time.”

  The guys immediately crack up. “Don’t downplay it, man. Brady Ryan is the number one ranked quarterback in the country sis. I swear if Dad could take him right out of high school, he would.”

  That shakes me out of my stupor. “Number five, asshole. Don’t jinx me. One bad move and any of us can be out for the season or replaced. Now, let’s figure out what we’re ordering for dinner. I’m starving.”

  I swear to god I hear Murphy mumble, I bet I know what you’re ready to eat.

  Murphy just smiles under my glare before he walks back over to Natalie. “Are you hungry? We were just about to order some food before we figure out our plans for tonight. Plus, we need you to put us out of our misery and tell us all about the hot Sinclair sibling. We’re tired of Cooper and could use some new blood in here.”

  Murphy has moved next to Natalie and his arm is around her shoulders, guiding her to a stool. I’ve known this guy since kindergarten, and I have never wanted to make him eat my fist as much as I want to right now.

  “Hey, Cooper, since your dad is out of town, are we partying here tonight or keeping it to just us?” Sebastian is always looking for a reason not to go home, always trying to avoid his dad and his uncles. We like to joke about it, but his family is the kind of family you shouldn’t cross if you want to stay in one piece. It’s the worst kept secret in Kroydon Hills.

  Natalie’s face falls for a second before I watch a mask go on. “Dad is out of town tonight? I was hoping to see him.”

  “I know you hate football, but you seriously have to pay attention to Dad’s schedule. He has a game tonight in Tampa Bay. He’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. He wanted to do dinner when you got here this weekend, but I’m thinking it will be tomorrow after I get home from practice since you're here now. I’ll shoot him a text and let him know you got here early.”

  “Alright. So, what are we ordering for dinner?” I think Bash sensed the tension in the air. It might as well be his superpower.

  Of course, tension could hit Murphy over the head, and he still wouldn’t sense it. “Wait. Wait. Wait. Did I just hear Coop, right? Did he just say you hate football? Come on now. You’re breaking my fragile heart here. Say it ain’t so.”

  Clipping Murph on the back of the head, I glare at him. “Knock it off, man. Leave her alone.”

  “It’s okay, Brady, I have two brothers, I’m used to teasing. I don’t hate football, Murphy. It’s more of a love-hate relationship. I’ve been around it my entire life. I love the roar of the crowd at games. The smell of the fresh-cut grass. The energy in the air when you’re under the lights.

  “Our entire family has lived our lives according to where Dad was coaching. I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve moved in eighteen years. First, Dad was promoted from assistant coach to head coach in college, then from an offensive coordinator in the pros to head coach of his own team. I hate that Cooper and I spent the last six months living on separate coasts because Dad switched teams again, but I get that this was a huge opportunity for him. Cooper and Declan both bow down to the altar of the football gods. I don’t get on my knees for anyone.”

  “Jesus Christ, Nattie. I don’t want to hear about you getting on your knees. Conversation over!” Everyone laughs hysterically at Cooper’s reaction to his sister talking about getting her on her knees.

  His face is as red as it was from the heat at practice today.

  It’s funny but not enough to stop me from picturing Nat on her knees in front of me perfectly. Those pretty pink lips, sucking. … Just then, an empty water bottle hits me in the head.

  “What the fuck, man!” I’m looking at Murphy, who’s laughing harder than the others now.

  “Pick a damn place to order from, QB. I’m ready to get this party started.”

  2

  Natalie

  It’s strange to sit in my new home, surrounded by people who are already comfortable here, when I’m not. The room itself is gorgeous. Wooden beams arch across a vaulted ceiling, warm, creamy marble countertops, and a matching deep farmhouse sink offset the light wood cabinets and open shelving. A huge center island with a butcher block counter is surrounded by five stools in the room’s center. An even bigger well-worn table with eight chairs sits off to the right of this massive room. It might have been a barn door in a previous life. I can’t help but wonder who decorated because it is gorgeous and certainly not something Dad or Coop is capable of. I love it. It’s warm and inviting and so much homier than anything has felt lately.

  Last winter, I
couldn’t believe it when Cooper told me he wanted to move with dad as soon as he could. We’d both been living with Mom at that point. I didn’t realize what a big deal playing for Kroydon Hills Prep would be for him.

  I hated the idea of moving in the middle of the year. I might have chosen to go with him if I had realized how isolated I'd feel staying in California with Mom. Mom is a retired model and loves to travel. I barely saw her, which was nothing new. Still, with Declan in his junior year at Notre Dame and Coop and Dad on the other side of the country, I started to hate being in California.

  All year I had been looking forward to the summer ballet intensive I was accepted into. It was half the damn reason I stayed in Cali. By the time it was over, I had realized something—I wasn’t living my life, I was going through the motions.

  I realized that I didn’t love ballet anymore, I just loved being good at it.

  I didn’t love spending all of my time at the studio, I was just comfortable there.

  I wanted to spend time with friends.

  Friends I have never bothered to make time for before.

  Promising myself that would stop, I booked myself on an earlier flight to Philadelphia.