Page 9

Chapter 8

BECCA

A FEW WEEKS LATER

I couldn’t believe that they made it this far. I knew that the Kings had a chance to make it to the world championship game; I just didn’t think it would be this much of an opportunity.

The team was only a few victories away from winning it all, and this weekend would be the deciding factor for their playoff contention.

I opened the card that had been delivered this morning to Lenna’s apartment, the place I’d been crashing while she lived with her new fiancé back in our hometown. But at the end of the season, I told myself I would go back home to the west coast. Lenna so graciously let me stay here for free, but one day I’d repay her.

Being in Louisiana wasn’t what I would have wanted. Even when I was in high school, I wanted to be out in the world, exploring. It wasn’t a new thought; it was always lurking on the edges of my mind.

The doorbell rang and when I answered, the delivery man handed me an envelope. I smiled and thanked him before returning to the living room.

This had to have been the tenth card I had received from Shyloh Mendoza asking me to come to a game. He always reserved a seat, and I never went. He was the typical quarterback, always charming, funny, and wickedly talented.

But once upon a time, I had the up-close and personal, beautiful opportunity to fall in love with one in high school. Yet here I was, at thirty, with the same broken heart I’d had since I was sixteen.

Everyone in my life had tried to convince me to move on, but even when I tried, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to show up at Shy’s game to give him hope when all I’d do is disappoint him.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hello?” I answer.

“I need you to be dressed in ten minutes. I’m coming to get you,” Lenna barked out her order to me.

I scoffed. “I will do no such thing, Lenna. You can’t force me anywhere.”

“Oh, yes, I can. Open the door.”

“What do you mean ‘open the door’? Don’t you have a key? ”

I heard the jangle of keys before the door slammed open with Lenna Hughes barging in, looking like an absolute maniac.

“Oh my God. What happened?” I shouted.

She stood, swaying side to side, playing with her fingers. “I-I got married.”

I leaned my head over with widening eyes. “You did what !”

Laughing she picked up her hand, showing me her engagement ring and wedding band. I rushed toward her, gripping her hand. “Holy Shit. You got married!” I exclaimed.

“Yes. But it’s a secret still, sort of. I’m still working with the Kings, but Conrad is retiring early. So, I don’t want to mess that up for him.”

I squealed. “I’m so happy for you Lenny.”

She smiled up at me. “Me too. Now get dressed, we’re going to the game.”

I shook my head. “No. Wait—why are you not at the stadium already?”

“You ask too many questions. Put on your tight-ass jeans, and let’s go.”

***

“I can’t believe I’m going to this damn game. Shyloh has been begging me to come to his game all week."

Lenna wiggled her brows at me. “Oh, he has… has he?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. He has. Annoying little shit.”

“And all he had to do was get me to take you. ”

I tilted my head at her. “What did you just say?”

Lenna grinned wickedly. “Oh, nothing. Just that all he needed was me. You did say that he would do anything.”

“You’re shitting me, right? He asked you to bring me?”

She smirked, “Sure as hell did.”

“Fuck. I don’t like this, Lenna. You know I can’t get involved with him. He’s a ticking time bomb.” I sighed, looking out the window at downtown New Orleans. We were almost to the stadium; maybe if I jumped out at the next red light, I could get out of this ridiculous kidnapping.

“You’re so dramatic. It’s just a football game. Stop being a little bitch about it and man up.”

Walking down the steps to the fifty-yard line by myself was a little nerve-wracking. My seat was directly behind the home bench, and I could feel my heart racing. Lenna had to leave me and go to work, and I knew Conrad wasn’t far behind her somewhere on the sidelines. But for right now, it was just me.

A familiar bright white smile caught my attention. Shyloh.

It was a sin that this man was so gorgeous. Trying to resist him was so hard and I had done so well… until now.

His eyes caught my stare, and he straightened slightly before fist bumping the player he was talking to and jogged over towards me.

Shit. Was he coming to talk to me? In front of all of these people?

Fans from all around started to rush towards my side, and I stood there against the railing looking at him. Shyloh didn’t even glance at anyone around me. His sole focus was me, only me .

“You made it,” he exclaimed with a hint of surprise. I nodded, looking nervously around me, but then I felt a hand against mine. He climbed onto the side of the railing, pressing his cleats against the nearest groove just to be face-to-face with me.

“Hi,” he whispered.

I smiled, taking him in. “Hi.”

“Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me,” Shyloh offered, looking at my vintage Bee Gees shirt.

I nodded, biting the inside of my lip. “I was actually forced here by a very strong and resilient woman.”

His brows shot up. “No shit. She did it. Lenna might be one of my favorites.”

“Even though she forced me to come, she’s my favorite too.”

“Ah… see, I plan on being your favorite. Singular. This is just the first step.” Shyloh glanced over his shoulder at the time on the board. “I gotta go, but stick around later for me?” He asked me so sweetly that I genuinely couldn’t say no; not to mention, everyone standing around us was listening to our conversation.

“Good luck, Shy,” I said quietly, and I realized that saying those words was difficult for me. I couldn’t understand why right then, but maybe it was just my nerves.

Leaning over the railing, he kissed me on the cheek and everyone around us audibly gasped. When he pulled back, he winked. “I’ll see you later, Becks.”

Oh Fuck. I was in trouble.