Dearest Series Boxed Set

by Lex Martin

  Police. And guys in black suits.

  My phone starts to ring in my pocket. I pull it out to see Daren’s name. I answer it immediately. After our falling out, I promised him I’d always answer his call.

  I don’t get a chance to start talking because he asks me where I am.

  “Um, I’m just about to leave the station. But it looks like something big is going down.”

  “He’s going to be arrested, Maddie.”

  “What?” I’m having a hard time paying attention because the cops are headed toward me. Hank moves in front of me, and I have to arch up to see over his shoulder. I hold my breath as the cops stalk past us and into a room down the hall.

  There’s shouting and the sounds of a scuffle. I’m clutching the phone, and Daren is saying something, but all I can register is how I should be covering this story, whatever is happening right now. Except… that’s not my job anymore.

  A few minutes later, Brad emerges in handcuffs, and I stop breathing.

  When he sees me, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand.”

  “What, Brad? What got out of hand?” What did you do?

  He fights the restraints and turns to yell, “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, Maddie. You have to believe me. ” My stomach twists as I watch him struggle to look back at me. "I fucking love you, Maddie. I'd never try to hurt you!"

  What the hell?

  The authorities wrestle him into the elevator, and I stand there in shock as the doors close. I don’t know how long I stand there, but I finally realize I’m still clutching my phone.

  “Daren?”

  “Yeah. I’m here. Maddie, are you okay? They’re arresting Brad for hacking you.”

  I don’t say anything at first. I can’t. And when I finally do, I have to hold back a sob. Not because I'm crushed it was Brad—at least it wasn't someone I considered a close friend—but because this nightmare might be coming to an end. "Thank you for helping me. For being here for me."

  “Aww, babe. Come back to the hotel. I can be there in an hour.”

  I shake my head. “No, finish with practice. I’ll see you this evening.”

  “Maddie, listen to me. Have Hank drive you back. I’m on my way.”

  He hangs up before I can argue.

  That night, I curl up in Daren’s lap while we share a bottle of wine and order room service. He lets me cry and holds me and tells me everything will be okay.

  For now, that’s what I need to hear.

  The next morning, I’m ready to get the whole story. I flip on the news. Brad’s arrest is on every news station.

  Daren’s quiet as he prepares for practice. He told me what he heard from our private investigator last night, but I had a hard time processing the details.

  Brad confessed everything. The stalking. His obsession with me. How he hacked my phone and laptop.

  But that’s not all. He sent the girls to Daren’s rooms. He signed Daren up to get porn. He plotted to break us up, to turn me against Daren.

  I watch the coverage, both relieved to have answers and horrified at what they are.

  “Babe, you okay?” Daren has his workout bag packed, but the concern on his face makes me think he’s reconsidering heading to the stadium, which is ludicrous.

  I put on a brave face. “I’m fine. Or… I will be.” Smiling, I haul my butt off the couch, run up to him, and throw my arms around his neck.

  He chuckles and rubs my back. I breathe him in, wishing this day were over so we could hang out. But I know that’s selfish of me.

  “Go to practice.” I peck him on the lips and let go of my death grip on him. “I was thinking about hanging out with Clementine today.” She texted me last night and asked if I wanted to hang out and have a girlie afternoon with facials and manicures while we vegged and watched Friends. It sounded perfect. Especially since I’m nervous as hell about Daren’s game tomorrow.

  I watch for Daren’s reaction because I know he’s encouraged me to spend time with his friends, but I want to make sure he’s really comfortable with it.

  I’m relieved when he beams a smile. “Great. Make sure to take Hank with you.”

  “Yes, sir.” I salute him.

  His lips tilt up higher until those adorable dimples peek out. “See you for dinner?”

  Nodding, I put my hands on his shoulders and push him toward the door so he won’t be late.

  He reaches down to grab his bag and stops to kiss me again. His lips are warm and soft, the perfect contrast to his scruffy jaw. This never gets old.

  “Don’t forget we need to leave by nine tomorrow morning,” he mumbles against me.

  “I won’t.” I’m so excited to finally see him play in person, but I’m concerned I’ll be a distraction.

  Like he can read my mind, his eyebrows pull tight. “Sweet thing, it’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

  I nod and let him kiss me once more before he heads out. I watch him step on to the elevator, and as the doors are closing, he yells, “My parents said you’re coming for Thanksgiving next week, so don’t make any plans. Your uncle is invited too.”

  My jaw drops open. That’s one way to help me stop stressing about tomorrow’s game. Tell me I’m meeting his parents.

  When Daren runs off the field, I’m euphoric. Clem and I are jumping up and down, and Jax is screaming like a madman. But you can barely hear us over the roar of the crowd.

  Daren threw a last-minute touchdown and won the game in overtime. I can barely catch my breath from the thrill of it all.

  “Your boy did good, girl.” Clem hugs me, and we continue hopping around like lunatics.

  We finally calm down and head out to her car. Daren told us we shouldn’t wait because he has field interviews and a post-game press conference.

  He snuck us in the back way, through the player’s entrance, but now we have to brave the crowds on the way out. I grab my big, black sunglasses and fight the nausea in my stomach. Clem’s lips twist when she sees me, and she hooks her arm through mine and pulls me close.

  “If anyone says shit to you, I will shank them with a rusty object,” she whispers.

  I laugh, relieved that this afternoon has gone so smoothly. But we’ve been sitting in a box reserved for players’ friends and family, so there’s still time for the crazy to start.

  We’re headed for the exit when Jeanine, the Rebels’ PR executive, stops us. “Maddie, I’m going to need you to join Daren for a quick press conference. The team thinks that if you do this together now, it’ll help quell some of the hysteria surrounding you two.”

  I agree even though I’m not exactly Jeanine’s biggest fan. I know Daren isn’t thrilled with how cutthroat she can be.

  Jax and Clem follow behind us. We wait in a long corridor. Finally, Jeanine ushers us into a huge conference room filled with media. Cameras immediately start flashing. It takes me a moment to spot Daren, who is seated next to his coach and a few teammates.

  His coach waves me over, and Daren’s mouth is tight. Shit. Did he not want me to come? He gets up and walks up to me, leaning down to whisper, “You don’t have to do this. Jeanine wants this press conference, not me.”

  “It’s fine.” I look up at him and smile. “She says this is good for you and the team. That’s all I need to hear.”

  His eyes wander over my face, and then he grabs my hips, pulls me close, and kisses me full on the mouth.

  Holy wow.

  Cameras start clicking like crazy, and all I can do is cling to this man as he kisses the hell out of me.

  When we part, I giggle and cover my mouth.

  The grin on his face is priceless. He turns to the cameras. “Any questions?”

  Everyone stares back at us, speechless. Daren waves at them. “Great. See ya.”

  Then he turns on his heel and drags me out.

  We’re still laughing about it an hour later as we sit in traffic, trying to get back to the hotel. Clem and Jax drove to the g
ame separately, so it’s just the two of us in Daren’s SUV.

  “So I have a serious question for you.” His voice is so somber all of a sudden, I turn in my seat to face him. “How fast can you pack so we can head home?”

  Home. His home. Our home.

  “I don’t have much to pack at the hotel, but Daren, are you sure? I can stay with Sheri, and we can take things slowly. You have your hands full with the playoffs coming up, and—”

  “Maddie, are you getting cold feet?”

  “What? No, of course not. I just want you to be sure.”

  “I’m sure. I’m so sure I will swear on my Heisman.”

  I gasp. “No, that’s sacrilege. Football gods, he’s kidding.” I shake my head. “There shall be no swearing on that trophy for any reason.”

  He laughs, and the sound fills the car. “Maddie McDermott, are you superstitious? I had no idea.”

  “I simply do not believe in messing with a good thing right before the playoffs.” And yes, I’m a teeny bit superstitious.

  He frowns. “Hmm. That throws a wrench in my plans.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you aren’t up for any change before the playoffs, then you’ll have to wait for us to redo your office.”

  “What office?”

  “The one we’re making in the guest room, so you can work.”

  My heart warms at his offer. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I know, but I want you to have a space of your own. Oh, and one more thing. Keep next weekend open. After my game, we have plans.”

  “What do you mean we have plans?”

  Tapping the steering wheel, he says, “We. Have. Plans.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “I plan to take my girlfriend on another date.” And then he winks.

  High school Maddie squees.

  Fifty-Three

  - Maddie -

  The last few months have been nothing short of insane, but moving in with Daren, having him with me, has helped.

  After Brad was arrested, the media frenzy got worse, but soon another scandal replaced mine. The fallout, though, was significant. Roger resigned over how the station handled my story. Spencer used every outtake with Daren, every smile and interaction with him to milk the ratings. And there was nothing I could do about it. My old boss has since gotten another job. I apologized to Roger for lying to him about Daren, and he told me I'm a hard worker and will land on my feet once the dust settles. I know I disappointed him, but I also know I love Daren. So no matter how Daren and I got here, no matter how difficult our journey has been, I wouldn't take it back because he feels like my forever.

  Nicole told investigators that Brad would ask her about me, and she merely thought he was nursing a crush and not being a full-on stalker. She maintains she didn't have anything to do with me being hacked, but I can't be positive she wasn't one of the anonymous sources that shared details only someone in my office would have known, like the flowers Daren sent me. I suppose it doesn't matter since I don't trust her anyway. Just last month, she was offered a job with a big celebrity news show in Los Angeles. She took it.

  After Brad's arrest, I tried to block out the media frenzy as much as possible. I worked out in Daren’s home gym. I took yoga classes and hung out with our close friends. For the first time ever, I stopped watching the news. Instead, I read Sheri’s steamy books, practiced my new sex moves on Daren at night—which he loved—and learned to relax.

  By February, I came to peace with everything. I even started getting offers from a few small stations in the Midwest to do news, and ESPN offered me a full-time job. I finally agreed to do a few sports segments a month for them because I could stay local. I told them in no uncertain terms that there was no way I was leaving Boston. Not with Daren here. ESPN agreed.

  His team went all the way and made it to the Super Bowl. They lost in overtime, but Daren had a spectacular game. I couldn’t have been prouder.

  Now, flipping open my new laptop, one that Daren bought for me a few months ago, I take the Post-It off the camera and finish tweaking my weekly YouTube segment.

  Daren was the one who suggested I try video blogging. I started with something simple. Me. People had so many questions about what happened, and I got tired of dodging the press, so I began by explaining how everything went down last fall and how I got hacked by Brad. He used a common spyware called a RAT—Remote Access Trojan—to lurk on my computer and spy on me. He gained full access to my email, docs, and camera. And after I noticed the camera light that one night, he made sure to turn it off the next time he filmed me. Then the creeper hacked my phone by emailing me a virus.

  I guess I was lucky in a way. Because all of those gifs were taken from actual videos, but fortunately, those didn’t leak. Neither did my weekly Out-Skanking texts with Clementine, thank God!

  My first video blog segment ended with tips on protecting yourself from RATting, which included getting the latest anti-spyware, covering your laptop camera when it’s not in use, changing passwords frequently, and only using a secure server. Granted, there was nothing I could do to protect myself from Brad given that he was supposed to be the one to protect me from being hacked, but for the average person, those suggestions can help.

  The morning after I uploaded the story, I woke up to find my little video trending on YouTube. Twenty-four hours later, I had almost a half-million views. Then the job offers really started to stream in.

  But Daren’s right. I’ve been running at a hundred miles an hour for too long, so I’ve been using this time to cover what I want, how I want. My segments are getting picked up by news stations, and I don’t have to show any skin to make some asshole producer happy. Of course, I still cover football on occasion. But now it’s because I want to.

  “You ready?” Daren asks, slipping on a baseball cap.

  “Yes.”

  He tosses the ball to me. “You need to watch Clementine closer this time. She got by you last weekend on a reverse.”

  Laughing, I nod. “All right, Clutch. But you need to remember that this is touch football and not actually tackle any of the guys. I was afraid you almost dislocated Jax’s arm last time.”

  “He can take it. He’s a big boy.”

  “No doubt. But still. Play nice.”

  “Babe, I always play nice.” Daren bats his eyelashes innocently, and I shake my head, fighting a grin.

  “And freaking pass the ball to Gavin. He’s always open.”

  Daren grumbles, but I know he’s just being a brat. I follow behind him, but he stops so quickly I stumble into him. He turns to me and asks, “If I pass to Gavin, can I have brownies when we get home?”

  That’s become our code. I chuckle, placing my hands on his waist. “Honey, you had ‘brownies’ this morning. Twice. Do you really need them again?”

  His head rears back. “Sweet thing, I always need your brownies.” And then he tosses me over his shoulder, smacks my ass, and carries me out the door squealing.

  Epilogue

  (Three Years Later)

  - DAREN -

  I can’t get over how much fucking traffic there is for a Sunday night. My phone lights up where it’s resting on the dashboard, and I check to make sure it’s not Maddie before I toss it onto the passenger seat.

  My head is all over the place. If I take a call, even with a hands-free setup, I’m likely to drive into the median. Christ, I need to calm down.

  Deep breaths. Breathe the fuck in and exhale the fuck out.

  Finally, I get to our neighborhood, which is decked out in Rebel flags. Partygoers from the corner bar rush out into the street and start cheering, and I laugh and try my best not to run anyone over.

  I’m proud, but right now, there’s only one person I want to celebrate with, and if I don’t get home in exactly three minutes, I’m gonna lose my shit.

  My wheels squeal to a stop, and I grab my phone and bag and race in. Maddie said she wouldn’t freak out during the game, but I know how she gets. And she
is in no condition to be stressed out.

  When I open the front door, my eyes immediately land on her. Her head tilts to the left and her left eyebrow raises as she picks up her phone.

  “Daren Sloan, how the hell did you get home that fast? I told you I was fine. See?” She waves her arms at herself. “Fine.” She starts to push off the couch.

  “Don’t, babe. Stay put. I’ll be right there. Let me wash my hands first.” Because you can’t be too careful. You’d be surprised how many germs you’d find on doorknobs and handles. I really should get more disinfectant wipes.

  In record time, I’ve kicked off my shoes and tossed off my coat. Maddie sighs back into the couch, and when I’ve washed up, I sit next to her and wrap my arms around her as gently as I can.

  “Honey, I’m not going to break,” she chides, tilting her head up to kiss me.

  I nibble on her sweet bottom lip that tastes like cherry Chapstick before I scoop her in my arms. She squeals and grips my shoulders, and I kiss her long and deep.

  “Mm. Why, Mr. Sloan, I dare say you missed me. Which is saying something since I saw you this morning.”

  “Why, Mrs. Sloan, of course I miss you. Every minute that we’re apart.”

  She leans back and places her palm on my face, and I lean into her. Her black hair is tied back in a braid, and she’s so damn beautiful, my chest hurts.

  “You’re a smooth talker, Clutch.” She places a soft kiss on my lips. “I dare say you could have your way with me when you talk like that.”

  My dick hardens at the mere mention of having sex with my wife. If I thought she was beautiful when I met her, she’s downright breathtaking now.

  I cough, trying not to get ahead of myself. “Wildcat, I thought you needed to take it easy. Dr. Klein said—”

  “Dr. Klein said I could do whatever I felt comfortable doing as long as I’m not on my stomach.”

  I work my jaw back and forth. “So last night—”