Page 30 of Mr. Irrelevant (Rock City Renegades #1)

TWENTY-FOUR

LIVVY

“You look so fucking sexy in my hoodie, Dimes,” Maddox says through the screen, his brows waggling suggestively. “Show me your tits.”

“Oh my God, no,” I reply, rolling my eyes while simultaneously trying to hide the same smile that threatens to break free whenever he gives me praise.

“They were literally in your mouth two hours ago. You shouldn’t even be talking to me right now.

You have to be at the stadium bright and early, and we both need a solid night of rest. You’re lucky I picked up this call in the first place. ”

He scoffs playfully. “Like you’d pass up a chance to say goodnight to me.

The fact that you steal my clothes to wear when we’re apart tells me everything I need to know.

” He pushes his bottom lip into a patronizing pout, lowering his voice.

“My sweet baby misses me, doesn’t she?” My core clenches and my head spins at his words, but when I look up to find the cockiest grin stretched across his face—the one that says he knows exactly what that tone does to me—my shoulders drop, and I let out an annoyed growl.

He barks a laugh in response, winking at me like the adorable asshole he is.

“Goodnight, Maddox,” I say, finally letting my smile break free.

“Goodnight, baby.”

I end the call, pulling up my social media app.

I should probably turn in soon as well, since my sister and Bailey will be here at the crack of dawn to get ready for the game.

Being that Cleveland is a drivable distance from Cincinnati, I’m expecting traffic in the city to be even more of a shitshow than normal with all the visiting fans, so we planned to start earlier just to be safe.

Promising to go to bed after a snack and a tiny little doomscroll, I stand from the couch, heading toward the kitchen.

But just as I pass the entryway, the doorbell rings, stopping me in my tracks.

My building has great security, so it has to be someone on my approved visitors list, which is why I don’t even think twice before setting my phone on the entry table and swinging open the door.

But I immediately regret my decision when I see the last person I want anywhere near me standing on the other side.

“Hey,” Deacon drawls, my eyes going wide with shock because what the fuck ? On instinct, I attempt to slam the heavy wood in his face, but he pushes a large hand against it, stopping me. “Wait. I just want to talk. Give me five minutes, Liv.”

I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes.

“Five minutes for what? And how did you even get up here?” I went straight to the concierge the day we broke up and had him removed from the list, so he either snuck by security or bamboozled someone into letting him onto my floor.

Either is possible since this man doesn’t have a noble bone in his body, and he always manages to come out on top even though he doesn’t deserve it.

“I told Phil that you invited me for a visit,” he says, speaking of the sweet, elderly night guard that he was always a little too buddy-buddy with.

I never understood it, but it certainly paid off for him tonight.

“He was reluctant at first, but you know how convincing I can be when I want something.”

Ugh. Gross. This man is the epitome of an entitled douchebag, and now that I’m looking at it from a new perspective, I honestly have no idea what I saw in him.

I press my lips into a tight line, telling him without words that I’m not falling for his bullshit Prince Charming act.

A year ago, I would’ve. But now, I can see right through it.

Sensing my indignance, he puts his hands up in surrender.

“I swear. Five minutes. If you want me to leave after that, I promise I will.” His expression is pleading, unlike anything I’ve ever seen from him, and while I absolutely plan on letting whatever he has to say go in one ear and out the other, I know how persistent he is.

So, I decide that letting him say his piece is the best way to ensure I won’t have to see him again.

Shifting my weight from one leg to the other, I pin him with a stern look. “Fine. Talk. But you’re not coming in.” The foot he has wedged against the door is as much of Deacon Underwood as I can handle in my space.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. Any semblance of hope I had that he’d actually be a genuine human being dies as soon as he speaks, making me seriously regret giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m here to tell you that Nadia and I broke up.

I only dated her to make you jealous, and when I realized that you weren’t coming back, it made me think about how everything between us ended.

We both said and did some shit we didn’t mean, but you can’t deny that we belong together, Liv.

Let’s just forget about the past and try again. ”

My jaw drops, a choked laugh getting caught in my throat.

He can’t be serious. He was the one who broke up with me.

He always said I was too much—that I gave off holier-than-thou vibes any time I tried to use my knowledge of the game to help others improve, himself included.

I refused to water myself down for anyone—so he ended it, moving my best friend into the house I’d spent every weekend in, before all my belongings were even gone.

I did my best to take the high road, telling people that we just couldn’t make it work, when in reality, I wanted to drag his name for being such an asshole.

I made everyone think our breakup was amicable, which is why I still follow him on social media, but the truth is, he broke my heart.

He made me think I wasn’t enough, and that fucked me up in ways that I never could’ve imagined.

But thanks to Maddox, I know I’m perfect the way I am, and that someday, I’ll find a man who will be proud to have me on their arm .

“You’re wrong,” I say, lifting my chin confidently.

“I meant everything I said and did. I put one hundred percent of myself into our relationship. I understood and respected your job, and spent so many lonely nights while you were on the road without so much as a phone call to say you missed me. You didn’t listen to the things I wanted, but I stayed anyway because I thought I loved you.

I don’t even blame you for the way we ended, since I willingly put us there by not leaving the minute you started trying to mold me into someone I could never be.

But I know better now, Deacon. I have someone who shows me every day that my opinions matter and that I have so much to offer.

He likes me— the real me—and he’s never once asked me to tone it down.

If I belong with anyone, it’s him, not you. So, no. I don’t want to try again .”

By the time my rant is over, my chest is heaving as my heart pounds like a drum inside my rib cage. I don’t even realize the words I just vomited all over the place until Deacon’s brows pull tight in confusion, the vein in his forehead visible as his fists clench at his sides.

“You’re seeing someone? Who is it?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

In an instant, I go from not even being aware of the things flying out of my mouth to being hyperaware of everything— including the fact that I answered the door wearing only Maddox’s team-issued hoodie.

I swiped it from his house earlier because I didn’t want to wear my own clothes home, and I kept it on because it smells like him.

He’s over a foot taller than me, so I’m covered almost to my knees, which I’m thankful for because the last thing I need is for my ex to see me half naked.

But what I’m not hiding well is the bright purple number thirteen embroidered right above the wrist cuff…

in plain sight. Immediately, I go on high alert, bringing my arm around my back to keep him from noticing it.

He probably wouldn’t have, but that doesn’t stop my intrusive thoughts from telling me I’m already busted.

“It’s…nobody,” I rush out. “You don’t know him.

Plus, it’s none of your business. You shouldn’t have come here, Deacon.

” I reach out, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the door and pushing it into him, but my efforts are thwarted when my phone begins vibrating across the table next to us.

I turn my head, watching in horror as MADDOX DANE flashes across the screen in big, bright letters.

My blood runs cold, and I whip my head toward Deacon, eyes as big as saucers.

I know I’m fucked, but the irrational corner of my brain is still hoping that by some chance, he either became nearsighted or illiterate within the last five minutes.

I swallow thickly, the lump in my throat feeling like a tennis ball as his face twists in bewilderment.

“Why the fuck is Maddox Dane FaceTiming you at eleven o’clock at night?

” I try to come up with something, but I’m a terrible liar, unable to think on my feet.

There’s no logical reason he would be calling me at all , let alone right before midnight the evening before a game.

Nothing I could say would make him any less suspicious, so I decide not to give him any type of explanation, real or otherwise.

“You need to leave,” I say firmly, pushing against the door as hard as I can.

He protests loudly, but thankfully, backs away, allowing me to close him out in the hallway as the automatic lock engages with a soft click .

I turn, pressing my back against the hard wood and dropping my face into my hands.

Every bad scenario plays over in my head, hoping Deacon doesn’t run his mouth about the fact that Maddox and I are obviously more than just a player and his owner’s daughter.

I don’t necessarily think my dad would be irate with me about our friendship, but if he found out that I’ve been secretly coaching Maddox multiple times a week—which could be seen as me undermining his staff—that wouldn’t go over well.

What started as a desperate grab for a few wins has grown into something much larger, both personally and professionally.

I have no idea what will happen next with me and Maddox, but I can imagine my ex won’t stay quiet about what he saw—especially since I rejected him two minutes earlier, then all but slammed the door in his face.

Well done, Livvy. What a nice little mess you’ve made for everyone around you.