Jocking Jameson: Face-Off Legacy #4 Read online

  Jocking Jameson

  Face-Off Legacy #4

  Jillian Quinn

  Contents

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Defending Donovan

  Are you on the team?

  Dear Reader

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  About the Author

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  FACE-OFF LEGACY SERIES

  Pucking Parker

  Keeping Kane

  Teaching Tucker

  Jocking Jameson

  Defending Donovan

  FACE-OFF SERIES

  Parker

  Kane

  Donovan

  Jameson

  MORE THAN SERIES

  More Than Friends

  More Than Roommates

  LOVE IN THE END ZONE SERIES

  Out of Bounds

  In the Zone

  STRICK U SERIES

  More than a Enemy

  More than a Player

  For more information, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jillian Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at JillianQuinnBooks.com

  Editing: Kaylene Osborn, Swish Design & Editing

  Proofreading: Nicki Kuzn, Swish Design & Editing

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, both living or deceased, establishments, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter One

  Jamie

  Every story has a villain. Mine is staring at me from across the room. All it takes is one look from her and my pulse races. Cecelia Carmichael, my ex-girlfriend, stands one booth over from mine with her father, the chairman of 10X Games. Kevin Carmichael is all fake smiles reserved for the public, busy showing off his brilliant daughter to his business partners along with his latest technology.

  Cece, as I’ve known her since we were kids, isn’t only beautiful and rich, she’s one of the smartest people I know. I haven’t stopped staring at her since we set up our booth for the Gamer Nation Convention in Las Vegas. Just knowing she’s here is enough of a distraction. And that’s what she wants—to distract me. Because she only cares about advancing her career as a video game developer and taking over her father’s company. I was nothing more than a sub-plot in her story, a detour on her way to the next big thing.

  “I need you focused, J,” my dad says, tugging on my arm. “This launch is important.”

  I peel my eyes away from Cece to look at my dad whose forehead is furrowed with worry. He’s a nervous wreck about the unveiling of Mage Wars, his latest game in The Fallen Universe he created before I was born. My dad is like a god in this world. He has fans around the world who wait impatiently for each release of the role-playing game.

  “I know. Don’t worry.” I pat my dad on the shoulder. “I got it covered.”

  He flashes a closed-mouth smile that looks forced. “I hope so. Any time you go anywhere near Cecelia, you can’t function.”

  I laugh so hard I snort. “Not even close.”

  Dad’s eyes travel from Cece back to me. “You look at her the way I look at your mother, except your mom looks back at me the same way. Cecelia only sees you as an opportunity, as someone to use. Don’t let her get in your head, Jamie.”

  He’s not entirely off base. When Cece broke up with me three years ago, I never saw it coming. I was so in love with her I was blind to all the signs. They say you never forget your first love, and I’ll never forget Cece. Ever since she crushed me, I haven’t given another woman a chance. No one compares to Cece in any way. She just gets me, deep down to the very core of my soul. Or at least I thought she did. I thought we had an impenetrable connection.

  “She’s your Gwen Stacy,” my dad says, referring to Spider-Man’s love interest in college.

  Gwen was undoubtedly Spider-Man’s true love, killed by the Green Goblin in The Amazing Spider-Man. Even though he married Mary Jane Watson years after Gwen’s death, I always thought Gwen was ‘the one.’ Sometimes, I feel that way, like I will never get over Cece. And for that reason, I can’t argue with my dad.

  Spider-Man is his favorite comic book character. He’s mine too. Even my best friend, Preston, whose full name is Peter Preston Parker, is named after the superhero, all because Alex Parker lost a bet to my dad. My dad is obsessed with Marvel Comics, and his love transferred to me. He drew inspiration from Stan Lee when he was creating his characters and worlds in The Fallen Universe. I often find myself doing the same thing when I’m dreaming up new games.

  I grew up on comic books, Star Trek, video games, and computers. My dad is a geek to the core, a master creator of worlds, and the best man I know. I learned everything there is to know from him—except for hockey. I learned that from my grandfather, who was a famous hockey player in his day.

  “My Mary Jane will come along eventually,” I assure him. “I’m not worried about girls right now. I have enough on my plate with hockey, school, and the new game I’m coding.”

  The game Cece stole from me.

  “How’s that coming along?”

  Hmm… how do I answer his question?

  I can’t tell him I let Cece demo it before she ripped it off. Admitting the truth would only lead to getting yelled at for something I already regret.

  “It’s going,” I lie. “I should have a beta for you to check out next month, depending on how crazy it gets with school and my hockey schedule.”

  “School comes first.” He flips open his laptop and sits behind the table I’m standing next to. “Have you thought about whether you want to come work for me full-time after you graduate?”

  “Yes and no,” I admit. “I kinda want to see what happens with hockey.”

  He peeks up from his keyboard and nods. “Well, if you change your mind, and I hope you do, you can always work for me. I’d always envisioned you, Mike, and Grace taking over the company after I retire.”

  My older sister, Charlotte Grace—who everyone calls Grace—handles operations in the London office. Mike runs the Silicon Valley office. Dad is still holding onto the hope I will take his place at the corporate office in downtown Philly.

  I’m torn between two legacies. No matter which one I choose, I let someone down. My dad wants me to follow in his footsteps whereas my grandfather wants me to chase the dream of professional hockey. No matter what I decide, I’ll never live up to either of their legacies. The paths they both forged are too narrow for me, leaving no room for me to grow.

  In the NHL, I’ll be compared to my grandfather. He holds the records for most c
areer points, season points, and playoff points. How could I ever compare to that? And then, there’s my dad. He blew the gaming world away when he developed the artificial intelligence that controls his Universe. His face is on every magazine, his tech mentioned in every newspaper around the world.

  I doubt I’ll ever be on the cover of Wired or have my games featured in PC Mag. It’s not that I lack confidence in my coding or hockey skills. I have that in spades. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling an immense amount of pressure. I have it on both sides of the family, where most of my friends only have their father’s former hockey careers to compete with.

  Mike, my older brother, climbs the staircase leading up to our raised platform, smiling like the Cheshire cat. He has the same brown hair as my dad and me, except he wears his longer on the sides.

  “They’re having issues over at the 10X booth,” Mike informs us. “Someone hacked their server.”

  And now I’m the one who’s grinning like an idiot. Cece made me look like a fool two months ago when I allowed her back into my life. We reconnected in a gaming chat room that led to private messages and eventually late night texts and calls. I couldn’t even tell my friends I was talking to her again because they all hate her. My family does too. They have every reason to. Cece is a horrible person. So, why does my heart still pound when I see her? I hate that it does.

  She had the audacity to use my vulnerability—more like stupidity—to steal my code and reverse engineer my game. Her dad loved it and decided to add it to his current platform. Now, I have nothing more than a half-formed idea and no real proof she stole from me.

  Some part of me will always love her, and I hate that I do. We met when we were ten years old at a gaming convention like this one. She schooled every guy on the floor. Hell, she even beat me in one of my father’s games. It was embarrassing, and for me, it was love at first sight.

  But I’m done being her doormat. I can’t allow her to win again. That’s why I corrupted her father’s system with a virus.

  I glance over at the 10X Games booth and watch as Cece and the technical team scramble to stop the blinking spider web flashing across the screen. Everyone in the room can see my signature, and yet only Cece and my dad will know it was me. Embedded inside the web is my screen name—Jamer. My dad called me that when I was a kid. It’s a combination of Jamie and gamer, a nickname that has stuck.

  If Cece looks close enough, she’ll see it, though it’s hard right now with how rapidly the web blinks. Cece is no idiot. Her eyes find mine for a split second. She deserves this, and she knows it. For once, I can place a check in the win column. Except, when it comes to Cece, it always feels like a loss… no matter how big the victory.

  Chapter Two

  Three Months Later

  Shannon

  I’ll never fit in. At least it feels that way as I walk through the Delta Sigma Phi chapter house, pushing my way through the crowd. Even after three years of being a Kappa Delta sister, I still feel out of place. Everyone on campus comes from money. I only pretend to have it all.

  A girl from Zeta Beta, who I can’t remember her name, grabs my arm and yells over the music. “I love your dress. Where did you get it?”

  I force a smile. “Umm… Nordstrom, I think.”

  I assume that’s where Jordan Walcott, the vice president of my sorority, bought it. She takes pity on me and loans her clothes to me for parties and sorority functions.

  Shaking the girl off, I move through the crowd, taking a sip from the red plastic cup in my hand. I can’t even afford to shop from the clearance rack at Nordstrom. It’s not easy attending a school like Strickland University. The prestigious college in Center City, Philadelphia oozes generations of wealth and success, where the rest of us have to kill ourselves to be part of their world.

  I know most of the people in this house. Despite my lack of money, I have somehow managed to fool the rich kids on Greek Row. But I’ll never be one of them. My friends are spilt into groups, some of them already paired with a frat bro. Most of the guys in the house are loaded. Some of their families even own yachts and private jets. And here I am, standing in the middle of the living room that’s now a dance floor, pounding the rest of my beer in a borrowed dress and heels.

  “You look bored,” a guy whispers into my ear, his breath on my skin sending chills down my arms.

  I spin around to face him and smile when I find Jamie O’Connor behind me. He’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. Every time I see him at a party, he puts me at ease. I never feel out of place around him. Jamie is so laid back that I could talk to him for hours. But he never makes a move. Maybe that’s the reason I like him. Because he’s not like the other guys in this house who all want something from me.

  I smile, and his expression quickly mirrors mine. “Yeah, I guess I’m not that into it,” I admit.

  “Wanna dance?” Jamie offers his hand to me, which I gladly accept, and then his other hand falls to my hip, pulling me into his chiseled chest.

  Jamie is tall and muscular, towering over me, though that’s not too hard to do when you’re only five feet tall. Almost everyone is taller than me. Even my younger brother, who’s still in middle school, has an inch or two on me.

  I run my fingers over his thick biceps, loving the feel of our skin touching. Over the years, I’ve witnessed firsthand why girls flock to Jamie, but my mental connection to him has far outweighed my sexual desire. At least it did, until now. Because being this close to him is killing me.

  As he moves his hand from my hip to my back, I suck in a deep breath and peek up at him. His eyes meet mine, and now my throat closes up as I look into his perfect blue irises. He’s gorgeous with shaggy brown hair which sweeps over his forehead. Jamie gives me a dreamy look that stirs need and desire inside me.

  Does he feel it too?

  I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend. From what I can tell, Jamie doesn’t date. Hockey and school are more important to him.

  “Thanks for saving me,” I say.

  Jamie smirks. “I like saving damsels in distress.”

  “My very own superhero,” I joke, squeezing his biceps. “You found me at just the right moment. I was thinking about leaving.”

  “Good thing my spidey sense kicked in before you did,” he quips, laughing.

  From what he’s told me in the past, Jamie loves comic books. He has an obsession with Spider-Man, something he’s mentioned quite a few times.

  I smile so wide my cheeks hurt.

  He stares down at me, his lips parted, and my pulse quickens. I want him to kiss me. I’ve never wanted anything so bad.

  We dance to the techno beat, our bodies rubbing against each other. The tension between us builds, hitting its peak before he dips his head to my level.

  Is this our moment? It sure as hell feels like it.

  He digs his fingers into my side, both of his hands now on my hips. Our lips are so close they almost touch. I lick my bottom lip to give him to the go-ahead. But he stops inching his way to me. Instead, Jamie moves his head to the side, taking me by surprise. Now, his lips are brushing against my ear as he speaks in his deep, manly voice.

  “I need another beer. Come with me.” His tone indicates an order, not an option.

  With our fingers interlocked, Jamie leads me through the living room and into the kitchen. One of the fraternity brothers stands behind the bar along the right side of the room handing out drinks. We make a beeline toward the bar. Jamie raises his hand to grab the bartender’s attention.

  After our beers are poured, Jamie hands me one. “Drink up.” He dips the red plastic cup against mine to toast. “Wanna go outside?”

  I sip the foam from the top of my cup, and some of it sticks to my lips. Jamie’s eyes fall to my mouth, and now he’s mimicking me as I lick the foam away. He looks so hot right now I want to scream.

  But he’s my friend.

  “Yeah, I guess. If it’s not too cold.”

  He hooks his arm
around my back and smiles. “I’ll keep you warm if it is.”

  Jamie has never been so forward with me. He looks pretty sober, or at least not wasted like his friends who are in the backyard playing beer pong on the right side of the lawn. A large group of people gather around the long table where people are throwing ping-pong balls into plastic cups. I tend to avoid playing games with the frat bros. They always seem to win no matter the challenge. I learned my lesson the hard way in my freshman year when my pledge class was forced to play strip poker with them. We lost miserably, of course.

  In the middle of the yard I spot a mix of naked and close-to-it people playing poker at a table under the large oak tree. I let out a sigh of relief when Jamie dodges both of the crowds, headed toward the koi pond at the far edge of the property. I can see the other fraternity houses perfectly from here.

  Rock music cranks through the windows of the house to our right, a party in full swing. The same goes for the Victorian to our left, except a rap mix fills the air on that side of the property. We have some privacy by the pond, enough space for us to have a conversation without anyone overhearing. Greek Row is lit up at this hour, one party after another spanning the entire block.

  I sit on the bench next to Jamie, who leans forward to take a look at the fish swimming in the pond in front of us. He sips from his cup, his eyes fixed on the ground. An awkward silence fills the air between us. I have no idea what to say. Now that we’re finally alone, my nerves suffocate me, crushing my chest.