Rush, page 1
RUSH
Nighthawks Series Book Five
Lisa Lang Blakeney
Writergirl Press
LISA LANG BLAKENEY
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Copyright © 2021 Lisa Lang Blakeney.
All rights reserved.
Published by: Writergirl Press
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License Note
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people, or places is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review.
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The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
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This book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
What Readers Are Saying About Lisa
“Lisa writes books that are intense. Explosive. Panty Melting. Raw. Exposed. Angst. Multifaceted."
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“Cover to cover, page by page every word was amazing. This author is amazing and her work is even more amazing. She really can get all the details and words to sound great together."
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"As soon as I picked up book 1 I was addicted to this series. I couldn't wait for this one to come out!"
★★★★★
"I definitely recommend this series to readers. It was the first of its kind that I have read, and I was not disappointed. 5 Stars!"
★★★★★
This is a book dedicated to all my readers who love a Nighthawk man.
Contents
Books By Lisa
FREE BOOK
Introduction
1. MIA
2. MIA
3. MIA
4. RUSH
5. RUSH
6. MIA
7. MIA
8. RUSH
9. RUSH
10. MIA
11. MIA
12. MIA
13. MIA
14. MIA
15. MIA
16. RUSH
17. RUSH
18. MIA
19. MIA
20. MIA
21. MIA
22. RUSH
23. MIA
24. MIA
25. MIA
26. RUSH
27. MIA
28. MIA
29. MIA
30. MIA
31. MIA
32. MIA
33. RUSH
34. MIA
35. MIA
BONUS EPILOGUE
FREAK Sneak Peek
MIA’S PLAYLIST
YOGA INSPIRATION
The Nighthawks
Also From Lisa Lang Blakeney
Where You Can Find Me
About the Author
Books By Lisa
**Discounted Book Bundles**
Ultimate Masterson Book Bundle
Ultimate King Brothers Book Bundle
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The Masterson Series
Devour this addictive series about the possessive bad boy, Roman Masterson, who falls hard and fast for the girl he’s promised his family to protect.
Masterson
Masterson Unleashed
Masterson In Love
Masterson Made
Joseph Loves Juliette
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Masterson Next Generation Series
The crazy hot fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. Dive into this second generation of Masterson men!
Knox - Knox & Gigi
Bronx - Bronx & Karma
Seven - Seven & Sasha
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The King Brothers Series
Dive into this series of interconnected standalones featuring 3 alpha hot brothers and the women they lay claim to without apology.
Claimed - Camden & Jade
Indebted - Cutter & Sloan
Broken - Stone & Tiny
Promised - All King Brothers
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The Nighthawk Series
Sexy & sweet sports romances set in the professional world of football. All standalones.
Saint - Saint & Sabrina
Wolf - Cooper & Ursula
Diesel - Mason & Olivia
Jett - Jett & Adrienne
Rush - Rush & Mia
Freak - Freak & Willow
Brick - Brick & Kaya
Dak - Dak & Katrina
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Valencia Ice Mafia Series
Hot hockey romances set on the college campus of Valencia City University.
Neo - Neo & Violet
Shane - Shane & Kennedy
Bass - Coming Soon
The Club
(Also known as Bleu Whiskey)
Dark, age-gap, serialized romance set in the underbelly of Los Angeles.
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Introduction
A one-click, ooh they’re cute, best friends-to-lovers romance and delicious love story with the yummiest tight end in the NFL.
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From bestselling author Lisa Lang Blakeney comes a new contemporary football romance between a strong and silent tight end and the carefree woman who has always had his heart.
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I unexpectedly lost my job
And am in debt up to my eyeballs
Until my best friend a.k.a. my lucky charm– Rush
Gets me my dream job working for the NFL
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We’re best friends so this will be fun and easy
At least that’s what I thought until I actually started the job
And one of his teammates asks me out on a date
Then Rush starts acting strange
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Now our friendship feels like it’s totally changing
And I think we’re both in over our heads
Drowning in feelings and desire that can no longer be ignored
But clearly frightens us both
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Um, you see where this is going, right?
One
MIA
University Of Miami
There’s something about the golden crackle of an enormous bonfire that I’m drawn to yet also frightens me. Perhaps it’s the dazzling flicker of the flames or the powerful feeling that grows inside my chest as I watch the luminous flames grow in height with each log thrown on the pyre. Something about it seems so ominous.
Maybe in a past life I was a witch who danced in the moonlight in nothing but her birthday suit, but tonight I dance with all of my teammates around the flames in joyful anticipation of our playoff game tomorrow against our rival, Florida State.
It’s so much fun to let loose after two weeks of intense preparation for one of the most important volleyball games of our lives. Not only do we want to win, but there will be a scout at the game for the US Olympic team and playing in the Olympics has always been my dream.
“You’re like a Wiccan minus the flowy white dress spinning around the fire like that.”
I spread my arms even wider as I twirl around the bonfire in my bare feet, laughing boisterously at my teammate, Pearl.
“You know I love to dance. This is the best stress reliever before a big game.”
I grow dizzy and almost fall to the moist Miami sand beneath my feet when my best friend, Rush, catches me just in the knick of time.
“Gotcha.”
I grin goofily when I see his stern face looking down at me while many of the other girls around the fire swoon. Rush is a big deal at our university. He plays tight end for the Hurricanes and is one of the more popular players to fantasize about.
“All those nights at the gym are paying off,” I say impressed. “You caught me with one arm and it’s not even shaking.”
Pearl plops herself into the sand and gawks at my unassuming friend like most girls do here at school whenever Rush is around.
“You’re going to break your neck one day,” he fusses. “Where are your sneakers?”
“Ha, you sound like my paw-paw.”
“You need to be careful. You could step on a cracked seashell or a freakin’ beer bottle and put a hole in your foot. Then there’ll be no playoff game in your future.”
I ignore my curmudgeon of a friend. He’s a worrier by nature and isn’t the best with social graces and niceties, but I know he means well.
“Isn’t the fire magnificent?” I ask him.
“Yes, yes, the fire is big,” he answers dismissively.
“I can totally feel my ancestors sending me bountiful vibes tonight, Rush. We’re going to kill it tomorrow. We’re going to crush Florida State!” I say loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Yeah!!” My teammates collectively holler back. “Woo-hoo!”
“Of course you’re going to win,” Rush affirms. “You’re the best team in the region.”
“You’re going to be at the game, right?”
“I have my own game to get ready for. I have to practice.”
“Rush Bacchetti! I can’t believe you.”
“What do you want me to do, Mia? You know coach doesn’t make exceptions about practice, even when it comes to you. He’ll bench me if I don’t show up.”
I met Rush my freshman year. While we were both recruited to the university on athletic scholarships, let’s just say he has always been a lot more precious to the college than I ever was. Football players are like gods to this place and are treated as such. It only took me a second to understand the athletic hierarchy once I stepped inside the football team’s athletic dorm. It was like a damn Four Seasons Hotel compared to our accommodations, which looked more like a tidy Motel 6.
I was invited over by another ballplayer, an older sophomore, who probably wanted to get inside my pants that day, but once I started raising hell about the differences in the dorms and the privilege I was seeing (like free vending machines for them while ours were coin-operated), he was completely turned off. He shook his head and walked away, wanting no parts of my equality for all hissy fit.
Rush, on the other hand, was interested.
“What’s wrong with your dorm?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Do you want to see the hovel they’ve got the volleyball queens of this university staying in?”
“Sure, I’m down.”
From that moment forward, the two of us became friends and kindred spirits. We would grab lunch often and go to each other’s games for support. We’d often sit on campus and talk about our favorite classes or our least favorite professors. We were an unlikely pair; sort of like The Odd Couple. He was quiet and focused, and I was bubbly and all over the place. He came from a solid two parent family and I was from an emotionally unavailable single mom. He seemed to ace his classes with little effort, and I had to study throughout the night just to pass a chapter quiz. He held people at a distance and I always gave people too much credit, but something about our friendship works.
People have never understood it, but I’m smart enough to know that you don’t meet many people like Rush in a lifetime which is why I have always valued our friendship and definitely depend on it. And while I’d never say this out loud, because I know it would make him feel guilty, it makes me nervous that Rush won’t be at one of the most important games of my career.
He’s my good luck charm.
When Rush comes to our games, I know there will be lots of loud claps and cheers for us because when anyone from the football team attends our matches; the groupies are sure to follow. That means we’ll have a large crowd of spectators, which is always fuel for an athlete’s motivation. More importantly though, Rush is my biggest fan. If he’s not going to be there tomorrow, it will feel like an essential part of the team will be missing.
I grab a bottle of 100% cranberry juice out of the cooler of beer and hand it to him.
“You thirsty?”
“Wow, I thought, there’d only be beer here. You volleyball chicks are drunks.”
“You know I wouldn’t forget that you’re the most disciplined football player in the entire university, so I bought you some juice.”
He knows that using disciplined is my code word for describing how regrettably predictable he is. Throughout our years here on campus, he’s been known to be the fun police. He’s pulled me away from more frat parties than I care to remember and away from school clubs that in his words “were nothing but a distraction”.
“Only the disciplined players get into the pros, Bird.”
“I know, I know, but you only live once and if I want to drink a beer before the game, I’m going to have one. It ain’t going to kill me,” I retort. “I’m sure plenty of Olympians drink a beer or two.”
“Why do you call her Bird?” Pearl asks Rush with the goofiest grin across her face. I forgot she was even there for a moment.
“She sings all the damn time,” he tells her.
“Just like a bird,” I say, imitating one by flapping my arms as if they were wings.
One of my other teammates changes the song on the portable bluetooth speaker and it’s a Black Eyed Peas classic. I can’t help myself and start dancing around the bonfire like a possessed woman.
“You can’t possibly be drunk yet,” Pearl comments, laughing at my dance.
“She’s not,” Rush tells her. “That’s her totally sober.”
“I drink beer because I genuinely enjoy the taste and not because of any way it may alter my state. A girl like me is drunk on life.”
Everything I said was true. Regardless of my crappy home life, I’m just a genuinely cheerful person. I was born that way.
I stop in front of Rush and try mimicking a dance I saw a little boy doing in a viral video. I do it because he thought the video was just as hysterical as I did.
“Seriously?” He cracks a smile and slides his hand through his thick mane of chestnut-colored hair. “You look like a zombie in a hip hop dance class.”
“This song reminds me of the sixth grade,” I say as I continue to exuberantly dance. “My Grandmom bought me the album and didn’t pay attention to the parental warnings. She just assumed they were a squeaky clean group.”
“Rookie Grandmom mistake.”
“Yep, it was awesome!”
I pump my fists to the rhythmic beat of Boom Boom Pow as Rush sinks down to the Florida sand and watches me in complete wonder.
“You’re going to be completely wiped for the game if you keep this up.”
“Never!” I say, panting. “Remember, Bacchetti, I won our last two mile race.”
“I gave you a head start.”
“Not by much!”
My favorite part of the song comes on and I start pop locking my joints like I’m in a 1980s hip-hop video.
“Damn, you’re like the energizer bunny,” Pearl comments.
“Did your parents tell you about MTV when they were young?” I ask them, slightly out of breath. “It was like the only place they could see their favorite artists perform when they were kids. Isn’t that nuts?”
“My parents didn’t watch cable,” Pearl says.
“Rush?” He doesn’t answer at first. “Isn’t that wild?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he finally replies, totally ignoring me now and paying more attention to the texts coming in on his phone.
