Scored(18)

Obviously, no one’s ever accused me of being wise.

“I’d love to say so, but I’d be lying.” I flop on the bed, the towel wrapped around my hair coming loose. “I don’t know what compelled me, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. Besides, what if he expected me to know the difference between a goal and first down on our date tonight? If we even have it. He was so quiet on the way back to the first floor.”

Layton purses her lips. “They score touchdowns in football.”

“I’m hopeless.” I push up on my elbows. “Seriously, though, what if he expected me to know things because Finley is my sister? Men like it when women know sports. They think it’s hot. I didn’t want to make him think I was something I’m not.”

She sits beside me and pats my hand, then pulls me to a sitting position. “You worry too much about what people think about you.”

“Hello, my name is Paige. Not only am I the middle child, but I also have abandonment issues.”

“We all have issues.”

“At least no one ever asked you out to win a bet,” I mumble, then want to slap myself silly.

“Is that why he asked you out?” Layton’s hazel eyes blaze with fury. “Good thing I have his email because I have a few choice words for—”

“No, it’s not… yes, he asked me out to help him win a bet, but it’s not a bet about me, specifically. It’s about dating a nice girl so his teammate can be mentored by Aiden… McHugh.” I don’t know why I add his last name. Layton’s oldest brother is best friends with Aiden. She’s known him as long as I have.

She blinks in shock a couple of times before asking, “How does that make it any better?”

“Well, now that I think about it… maybe it’s not such a great idea.” I flop on the bed again and groan. “I suck at dating.”

“No, you don’t.” She shoves her hand under my back and forces me to sit up. Again. “Let’s start from the beginning so I can guide you into making the best decision.”

“Boy meets girl—”

“Paige!”

“Fine. Fine. The first time Dallas asked me out, the bet wasn’t in place. He asked me out because he liked how the stickers looked on my boobs.”

“How redeemable of him,” she replies wryly.

“It’s better than asking me out on a bet or a dare… or because, I don’t know… hot librarian fantasy.”

Layton narrows her eyes at me.

“Yes, he said he had thought that, too,” I mumble.

“Mr. Drake is a regular Prince Charming.”

“It was charming,” I insist, but Layton’s not buying it. “You had to be there, okay?”

“Humph.”

Toweling off my hair, I grab the comb I’d tossed on the bed and run it through my damp strands. “There are tingles when we touch. The good kind. The swoony kind. He held my hand and stroked my fingers, made me all excited and relaxed at the same time. He’s really gentle.”

Her face softens a little. “I did like that he refused to let go of you when I showed up again. A man up to no good sneaks around.”

“Thanks for that. I enjoyed talking with him on my turf.”

“Home-field advantage.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. “If you say so. Plus, I’m the one being sneaky. I told Dallas that if we dated, even just to help his friend, that Finley can’t find out. No one can find out.”

“That’s going to be a bit difficult to do considering he’s a very public figure.”

My eyes round. “Should I cancel our date tonight?”

“Where are you going?”

“451?”

She shakes her head. “You’ll be fine there. It’s the Vegas of restaurants. What happens in 451, stays in 451. It’s why so many famous people eat there when they come to town. There’s an unspoken code and a hard rule on cell phones.”

“Have you been before?” I ask, curious as anything.

“Remember the actor who rented out the third floor for his daughter’s sweet sixteen?” At my nod, she continues, “That’s where we met to plan everything. I took out my phone to put in his info and almost had it confiscated on the spot.”

“Wow. Maybe I should leave mine at home?”

“No. You can have your phone. You’re not allowed to take pictures or videos while you’re there. Everyone who eats there follows the rule.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone who wants to come back and trust me, this place is so amazing that they want to come back.”

I blow out a breath. “I can do this.”

“You can do anything, honey.” Layton eyes my hair. “But you best finish getting ready because it’s almost time to leave.”

“Thanks,” I say softly.

“Any time.” She ruffles my hair. “For what it’s worth, he’d be a dumbass not to show up tonight.”

My phone makes the sound of coins falling, letting me know I have a new text, and I grab it, stabbing my finger against the home screen button.

“It’s another text from Dallas,” I say.

“Is it as romantic as the first?” Layton asks.