Fumbled (Playbook #2)
Alexa Martin
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
When I began writing, publishing was something I couldn’t even wrap my head around. Finding a publishing home at Berkley is the dream I never allowed myself to have. Kristine Swartz, thank you for being the most amazing editor ever. Ryanne Probst, Jessica Mangicaro, Erin Galloway, and Jessica Brock, thank you for everything you have done for me and my books. To the rest of the Berkley dream team, thank you for welcoming me and my crazy football books with open arms. I am forever grateful.
Jessica Watterson, thank you for being my agent. You are the champion every writer deserves to have in their corner. I could not have done this without you.
I have been overwhelmed by the kindness other authors have offered me throughout this journey. Helen Hoang, thank you for never ignoring my messages. Jasmine Guillory and Kristan Higgins, your support has meant everything. I’m so grateful for your lovely words and encouragement.
Phoenix and Shay, my mentors in Black Girl Magic. Watching you go after your dreams is inspirational.
Maxym, Tricia, Shannon, and Gwynne, your talent amazes me. Thank you for turning All The Kissing into what it has become. I love working with you all.
Natalie and Kim, who would have thought we’d be spending all these Friday nights together? You two, plus our crazy crew, have packed these three years with more memories than I could’ve imagined. I’m so lucky to call you both friends.
Lin, thank you for reading every piece of everything I send you. Without your encouragement, I’m not sure I would’ve ever been brave enough to put my words into the world. When I joined that mom group, I thought I’d get some advice on stretch marks; I never imagined I’d find a best friend. And remember I wrote this when you’re writing your acknowledgments for what will no doubt be a best seller.
My family. Frannie, you never fail to be anything but a shining light in everyone’s life. One of these days, I’m going to sneak my way into one of your trips! Grandpa Jesse and Grandma Frankie, thank you for your support and encouragement. Derrick, thank you for taking over our circus when I had to disappear into the writing trenches. Your belief in me is everything and I love you. DJ, Harlow, Dash, and Ellis, you are my why. And even though I will ban you from ever reading beyond this page, I hope you’re proud. I’m so grateful to be your mom.
And to every person who has watched, with bated breath, as your loved one chases their passions, knowing it might prevent them from coming home: Your quiet strength does not go unnoticed. You are the glue that holds everything together.
One
I’m on my knees.
In the back of a club, covered in a foreign liquid, and on my freaking knees. Plus, I’m pretty sure the coarse, dirty carpet beneath me might rub a hole through my lace stockings.
Some drunk asshole spilled whiskey all over my corset while trying to cop a feel. I’m pretty sure I’ve looked through hundreds of corsets and still can’t find my size. Which, I guess, all things considered, is a good alternative for other reasons to be on my knees in a nightclub.
I never, not in a million years, thought this would be my life, but if life has taught me anything, it’s to expect the unexpected.
And also, screw expectations. Expectations always leave you disappointed, broken, or—if you are really lucky, like me—all of the above.
“Hey, Poppy, Papi!” Sadie shimmies into the room, over the piles of mismatched thigh-high stockings and red-sequined corsets, waving a flat iron over her head. “Sadie’s here to save the day.”
I met Sadie on my first day here. I crossed the threshold into what I was sure was going to be dark, depressing, and coated with daddy issues, only to find my own little rainbow, dusting anyone around her with glitter. Literally. I love her to death, but if you come within three feet of Sadie, you can expect to find glitter on you for the next five months.
“You’re a godsend. Phil looked like he was about to have a coronary when he saw me. I guess there’s a big group coming tonight and my smelling like cheap booze and having half a head of frizzy hair was almost the end of the world.” I grab another corset and check the tag: size zero . . . again. “Ugh! Why am I the only person here not a size zero or two? I’m going to crack a rib trying to close this.”
“Because you like wine too much.” Sadie doesn’t look at me as she plugs the flat iron into the only empty outlet in the room.
“Whatever. Red wine is a health food. My heart is strong as hell, thank you very much.” Resigning myself to the fact that I’ll spend the rest of the night unable to breathe or bend properly, I start to peel off my ruined uniform, but for some reason, the clasps are stuck. “Ohmygod. Halp!”
Sadie rolls her eyes, taking her sweet time to come and help me. “You are doing the absolute most right now.”
“Am not,” I whisper yell at her. The upper clasps opened fine, so both of my hands are working to keep my girls covered. “Can you hurry before someone walks in and thinks I’m trying to get onstage tonight?”
“You suck in and squeeze the top as tight as you can. I’ll try and rip the bottom ones open.” She’s biting her lip, and I know if she were to let go, she’d be laughing in my face. “Ready?”
I appreciate her restraint.
“Ready.” I nod.