Scored(69)

Paige narrows her eyes. “I am so going to get her back.” She grabs a tissue and starts dabbing at her face. “My momma is out there—well, she won’t care what we did in here as long as we practice safe sex, but Finley is out there and Bond too. And my sixth-grade teacher… my Sunday school teacher. The preacher of my momma’s church.” She looks close to tears. “Everyone who has known me since I was a kid is here. I wanted to talk to you first, not resort to the only thing we’re good at doing with each other.”

The buzz of my orgasms fades. Fuck. I’ve only made things worse for her, for us. Shit. Fuck. Shit. “What can I do to help?”

“Wipe the lipstick off your mouth and shirt.” She grabs a clean tissue. “Button your pants, stick your shirttail in, and go out there and act like you didn’t just have your way with me.”

“So we’re still on that, huh?”

“And for the love of God, do not talk to Aiden. He’s drunker than a raccoon in a whorehouse on a Friday night and is in a snit.”

“I have no idea what any of that means.” I’m not going to point out that her accent is so thick I can only catch the meaning of every other word. “But I get what you want—for me to leave.”

“Exactly. Go on.” She shoos me away, mumbling as she fixes her hair. “We’ll talk later in private.”

“Whatever you want. Your rules, remember?” Before she can jump on my ego and decimate it into the ground, I unlock the door and step outside.

“I’m so done with this bullshit,” I mutter and take out my phone. I don’t know how to get through to her. Obviously, sexing her up isn’t a permanent solution. Although, it is a consensual one, so there’s that.

What would Darcy do? That pansy-assed fucker would probably declare his love in a poem or some shit.

Layton grabs me. “How did it go?”

“She kicked me out.”

Her dark brows draw together. “That bites.” She perks up. “Try doing a grand gesture for her. Something that overshadows anything that has ever been said about you and the Double D’s.”

“You want me to go live on my Facebook page?” I joke.

Layton smiles. “Why not? Unless you can think of someone with a bigger following who would help you.”





CHAPTER 29




Paige


The next morning, I sit cross-legged on the sofa with my computer in my lap. Layton said that part of my super-awesome duties as her temporary replacement is to maintain the Facebook page dedicated to the event space at work.

With a scowl on my face, I log in and answer questions, comment on pictures with a bubbliness that feels alien, and because I’m a sucker for pain, I search Dallas’s name.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Momma says, sweeping into the living room. Her dark red hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s wearing a flowing robe with a flower print on it. She’s also holding a tray filled with homemade biscuits and cinnamon rolls. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” I take a cinnamon roll—because who doesn’t need all that sugar and calories to go to their hips?—and cram a quarter of it into my mouth while I click on the first link that pops up. It’s a live notification that Dallas is being interviewed by Becks Ham. Yes, she’s majorly obsessed with David Beckham and everyone, including me, knows who she is.

“Is that him?”

I turn to her, almost not wanting to watch. “Yes.”

But I look toward the video at the sound of the interviewer’s voice.

“Dallas?” Becks prods, keeping her toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile wide as she sits across from the man I love. He looks so good in his suit, his shoulders so wide that his jacket looks like it will split at the seams if he flexes hard enough. “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 at the camera.

I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of my head.

“Actually, there is someone special.” Turning to the camera, he stares 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 all wins for the Renegades.”

I want to laugh at the cocky remark, but my heart is in my throat and there is no room for it to escape.

Dallas continues, his gaze never wavering from the camera. “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.”

I almost choke on my ice. “Oh, my Lord. Did he just tell the entire world that he’s going to propose to me?”

“And that, kids, is how you let a woman know you mean business.” Standing, he yanks off the microphone and swaggers off the stage.

I lift my eyes to my momma’s face. She’s grinning like a possum with a biscuit.

“You will tell that man yes.”

“Duh.”

“Well, what are you waiting for Paige?” she asks. “Go get him.”