Scoring Wilder(75)

Boy did they look good against the backdrop of the hotel. I felt like I was stepping into a scene from The Great Gatsby.

I paused to take Liam in from head to toe, admiring the way the black Armani suit was tailored for his body. He'd skipped a tie and wore his crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. His usually unruly hair was styled back, reigning in his rugged good looks, but he'd left his five o'clock shadow to balance out his features. I wanted to take the lapels of his jacket between my fingers and tug him toward me for a kiss, but we were still a few feet away from each other.

As Liam and Penn stepped forward to greet us, I held back a smile. Their tongues were practically hanging from their mouths. It felt good to know that I, Kinsley Bryant, nineteen-year-old soccer dweeb, could bring Liam Wilder to his knees... almost.

He reached forward for my hand and spun me around slowly. He whistled low and sexy when he saw the back of my dress.

"Kinsley, I think you forgot your jacket in the car," he teased as I finished the spin.

I shrugged innocently and inhaled his cologne. He wore his signature scent and I let it wash over me as he bent to steal a chaste kiss from my lips. Before he pulled completely away, he whispered, "You look so beautiful."

I smiled up at him, trying to take in the magical moment before getting swallowed by a giant crowd of people.

“Thank you,” I said, patting my palms against his suit jacket and feeling his hard chest beneath the layer of fine cloth.

"I should have warned you, but there's a Step and Repeat in the hotel lobby before the entrance into the event."

"A what?"

Liam smiled. "A red carpet. They'll want to snap a few pictures of us before we head in."

A wave of nerves instantly crashed over me. Woah, wait. Was I ready for this? Coach Davis and Liam’s sponsors knew a little bit about our relationship, but what would happen when the story broke to the media?

"So what are we going to do?" I asked, peering up to try and decipher what he was thinking. His features were sharp, but relaxed.

“I'd prefer to have you on my arm, but it’s probably safest if I walk in with Penn and you and Becca walk in together after us."

I reached up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.” I knew he was trying his best to protect me from the media.

We explained the plan to Penn and Becca, and then made our way to the front door of the hotel. I could see the photographers through the frosted glass and my nerves were building upon themselves until I could feel my hand shaking inside Liam's.

He gave me a reassuring smile before letting go and heading inside with Penn. I tried to listen to the paparazzi, but it was impossible to hear them through the door. A few moments later, when Penn and Liam had exited the carpet, the front door swept open so that we could enter next. I reached back for Becca and took a deep breath as the staff held the door for us.

The moment we passed through the threshold, flash after flash started illuminating the ritzy hotel lobby. They'd set it up so that the event's guests were funneled down a long red carpet. Photographers were on one side of a red rope and there was a giant banner running along the back of the carpet with various brands’ logos repeating all the way down.

I smiled and tried to look normal, but my features felt tight and fake. Was I smiling or just opening my mouth really wide? Becca squeezed my hand and I squeezed back as we walked toward the center of the red carpet. Once we hit a certain mark, a publicist insisted that the two of us turn and pose for a photo. The flashes multiplied as we angled toward one another.

"Kinsley, are you attending the event solo tonight?" one reporter asked, and the moment the question was out, everyone else joined in, one after the other, as their voices clamored to be heard.

"Kinsley, who are you wearing tonight?— Are you seeing anyone?— Do you know why Liam stopped volunteering with ULA?— Are you planning to take your relationship with Liam public?"

I just kept a fake smile plastered on my face as if I couldn’t hear a single word. Even still, my head was spinning by the time the publicist gave us a thumbs up. I tugged Becca off the red carpet as quickly as possible and looked up to see Penn and Liam waiting for us at the entrance to the event. The sooner we stepped into the party and away from the media, the better.

As soon as my heels stepped from the red carpet back onto the sleek marble floors, I thought I was in the clear, but then I heard a familiar, shrill voice behind me. At first I didn’t believe it, but when I spun around, I saw Tara posing with a handsome guy that I didn’t recognize.

“I’m wearing Versace and these shoes are Louboutins, obviously,” she answered one of the paparazzi’s questions while fluffing her hair and striking the perfect pose.

“Your teammates just passed us on the carpet. Are you going to be hanging out with them at the event?” a reporter asked, pointing in our direction.

Tara’s gaze followed his finger until our eyes locked and my stomach dropped. She should not be given microphone privileges. There was no way to know what was about to come out of her mouth next.

“We’re actually not teammates anymore,” she clarified with an air of attitude as she turned her attention back to the cameras.

That comment sent the paparazzi into a flurry of questions, and I was left clutching Becca’s arm with a vice-like grip. Becca shot me a pleading look as Liam started pulling me toward the entrance of the party. He didn’t want me to be subjected to her drama, but I had to know how she was going to answer.