Scored by Marquita Valentine
PROLOGUE
Dallas
My mind should be on the game. It’s the biggest one of my life. The game that will determine if we go to the playoffs or not.
Instead, my brain is focused on the woman who refuses to see things my way.
I’m done chasing her.
Almost.
I’m done playing by her rules.
Completely.
“Dallas?” Becks prods, keeping her toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile wide. The bubbly blonde doesn’t like dead air, and that’s what I’ve given her for the past five seconds. “C’mon. Can you tell me if the rumors about a special lady in your life are true? Promise it won’t go any further than our millions of viewers.”
She winks.
My jaw works.
I know what I have to do, and it’s going to break Paige’s heart when I break the promise I made. But it’s a risk I’ll have to take.
Besides, I’m fucking tired of hiding our relationship from everyone.
“Actually, there is someone special.” Turning to the camera, I stare straight into the lens. “Bright eyes, I love you. I want to be with you, out in the open. I want to show you off and kiss you in front of the camera after the game—win or lose. But you know it’s going to be a win for the Renegades.”
Hey, what I can say—I’m a cocky son of a bitch and that won’t change, but I can humble myself, be all vulnerable just for Paige so she can see what I’m willing to do and how much I’m ready to commit to her. “I’m done being your secret. If you’ve got the lady balls—and I know you do, baby—then meet me tonight, right after the game, in the Renegades’ end zone. I’ll be the one with the diamond ring.”
The entire room goes silent. Even Finley stops talking on her phone, her mouth dropping so far open I can see the mint she’d been sucking on. Hell, even the camera guy is stunned, frozen in place while the producer stands to the side, his chin practically on his chest.
“And that, kids, is how you let a woman know you mean business.” Standing, I yank the microphone off my shirt, drop it on the floor, then swagger out of there without saying another word.
CHAPTER 1
Paige
“They’re still not coming off,” I mutter in the lowest voice possible. Handcuffs encircle my wrists, imprisoning me, and not in the good way either.
Oh, no. I’m cuffed in front of an audience of twenty preschoolers and their parents/caregivers.
Barney the Magnificent, a local magician invited to read from his first published book and perform magic tricks for this week’s preschool power-hour group, yanks on them harder, making the metal scrape my skin.
Holy poopballs, that hurts! I fight back a wince and the bubble of nervous laughter that threatens to burst out of my mouth.
“This has never happened before,” he replies in a faint voice, then raises it to address his audience. “I think I got the magic words wrong—it happens sometimes, and it’s okay to make a mistake.”
The group of preschoolers nod along with him.
My eyes widen as I realize I might have to work the rest of the day with these dang things on.
My first thought after the realization: That will go over well with the patrons.
My second: I’m going to tit punch Layton when I see her.
Layton is not only my coworker, but she’s also been my best friend since kindergarten. She’s the one responsible for Barney’s gig here today.
I smile wider, not wanting to spoil the magic for the kids or ruin Barney’s big moment. He is around eighty, wears bow ties, and stops by once a month with muffins for the staff—basically, he’s the absolute sweetest man in existence. He’s also blind as a bat because he refuses to wear bifocals on account of the ladies not being into them. His words, not mine.
“Do you have a magic key in your hat, Magnificent Barney?” I ask hopefully.
“Er… I left it in my other hat, at home.” He jiggles the handcuffs with more vigor. “Don’t worry, kids. There’s nothing magic can’t solve.”
Except how to unlock a pair of handcuffs.
Barney’s fingers, slick with nervous sweat, slip off, hitting a piece of metal slightly sticking out to one side. There’s an audible click.
“Pesto Chicken Pizza,” Barney announces with a flourish, waving his hands in an intricate pattern.
The preschoolers giggle. A few of them repeat his words. I love when they do that, but I like being free even more.
Like magic, the handcuffs fall to the floor.
“Ta-da!” I chirp, rubbing my wrists. This is the last time I will ever cover for Layton so she can run wedding errands. Okay, so it probably won’t be the last time, because I’m her maid of honor and covering for her is listed under my duties.
I’m totally serious. She had a list printed out and laminated for me. It’s the size of a credit card, so I can take it with me wherever I go.
Layton’s such a thoughtful friend.
Did I also mention I’m a sucker and I love her, because both are true?
“Let’s clap for Ms. Paige.” Barney bows and picks up the handcuffs, tossing them into his bag while the kids give me a round of applause.