The Perfect Score
Kissing the Enemy #3
Maggie Dallen
Copyright © 2018 by Maggie Dallen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Images © Shutterstock – Selenit & DepositPhotos – Sandralise
Cover Design © Designed with Grace
Created with Vellum
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
The Candy Cane Kiss
Prologue
Maddie
I should have left the frat party when my friend Kate left. This was now totally obvious thanks to the drunk guy who was currently slurring his words as he invaded my personal space with his foul beer breath and loud breathing.
I’d seen her slip off with our other friend Levi and hoped beyond hope that for their sake they finally realized they were meant for each other. Being a human cupid wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I could see matches coming from a mile away but I’d learned a long time ago that trying to show someone the light was easier said than done.
Sometimes people just had to learn it the hard way. Kate and Levi? They were making this whole will-they-won’t-they thing last an eternity. Hopefully they were sorting out their issues right now.
I leaned away from the guy who was aiming that open-mouthed breathing in my direction.
Hopefully Kate and Levi were having better luck in the romance department than I was.
My new suitor had seemed cute when he’d first come over to start talking to me, but drunkenness was so not attractive. I was all for having a couple drinks at these things but seriously—know your limits, dude.
He moved in closer until the stench of stale beer hit my cheek, hot and wet and gross. “So what do you say, should we get out of here?”
I looked up at him to see if he was serious.
He was.
Ugh. Frat boys. So full of themselves. I’d have been better off with that last hottie I’d been talking to. He might’ve been too cocky for my liking but at least he hadn’t come on this strong.
I ignored his less-than-subtle come-on. “I need to find my ride” I said, my gaze already searching the crowd for my friend Ox. He was around and he was close, of that I was certain. Ox had become my self-appointed bodyguard tonight. His protectiveness was adorable—unnecessary but cute.
I’d had a hunch when I’d befriended him that he was good people, and he proved me right at every turn. For all his scowls and gruff exterior, he had the heart of a hero.
Contrary to popular belief, heroes didn’t always wear white hats or look like Prince Charming. Ox might not have looked the part, but he was one of the good ones.
I shifted away from the drunk guy and made a mental note to make more of an effort to help Ox find someone. He deserved it.
Drunk guy didn’t get the hint. His arm wrapped around my shoulders. “I can give you a ride home.”
“Uh, I don’t think so.” A ride from the drunkest guy in this place? No thanks. I didn’t have a death wish, thank you very much. I backed away from him but when he edged in closer I got a little surge of tension. Not fear—I might’ve been short but I could totally take this guy down, especially in his inebriated state. But I was just a little apprehensive about having to knee a guy in the groin in the middle of a frat party. Not exactly ideal. I had a certain reputation to uphold, and I wasn’t about to become the girl who was blacklisted from all the good Fairfield University house parties.
I cast a quick look around for my actual ride home. The one who’d been drinking water all night and watching over me and Kate. There he was. Ox was easy to spot. A full head taller than most of the people in this overcrowded house. Even if he didn’t tower over the rest of them, he would have been set apart by that fierce frown of his.
The guy couldn’t help it. That was just the way his face was. Permanently set in a scowl. Right now he was staring in my direction and I felt that tiny flicker of tension ease. His gaze met mine and his eyes narrowed a bit.
My stomach gave a funny little twist. It was the relief, most likely. It wasn’t often I had my very own bodyguard on hand at one of these things.
“Come on,” drunk guy said, his tone turning whiny. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
He leaned in close. “Don’t be a tease.”
I jerked back. “Excuse me?” My tone was filled with indignation and any guy who wasn’t a moron or three sheets to the wind would have recognized that and stopped talking.
Not this guy.
“I know who you are, you know,” he said.
I was full on backpedaling now, not even trying to hide my disgust. “Oh yeah, and who’s that?” The girl who’s gonna hit you where it hurts?
It was rapidly becoming clear that was exactly who I was going to be.
“I’m friends with Alex,” he said, taking a swig of his beer as I came to a sudden stop. I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it. I’d frozen. Every limb, every vein, they were all filled with ice at the mention of my ex. My first love.
The guy I’d thought loved me back.
“You don’t recognize me, huh?” he said with a nasty sneer, eyeing me with a critical look. “You were pretty drunk when I met you.”
I blinked a few times and the room started to spin, the edges of my vision growing hazy. Alex. The guy I’d been so sure was the love of my life…until he’d dumped me for someone else approximately one month later.
I’d never been so crushed in my life. And now here was a guy, his friend apparently, and he was looking at me like I was beneath him, like he was better than me. Now I started to recognize him. Alex and I hadn’t gone to a ton of parties together—only one. And that one party had marked the beginning of the end for us, though I hadn’t known it at the time.
It was our first public outing as a couple—a party filled with strangers, kids from his school. He’d gone to Parkland High, which was Fairfield’s main rival and located on the opposite end of town. I’d met so many new people at that party, but this guy…
“You were a senior,” I said through numb lips.
He smirked, as if that was somehow a compliment. He tried to snake an arm around my waist again. “See? We’re basically old friends, babe.”
Babe? Ugh. Alex had called me babe. He’d been a junior, and so was I at the time. It was a year ago now and I should have moved on. I should’ve been over it.
I thought I was over it, but my churning stomach and fuzzy brain at the mention of his name said otherwise.
“So, what do you say?” he said. “You want to go back to my place to party?” His lips pulled back in a leer as he moved in closer again.
When I backed up this time my feet ran into a table and jostled some beer cans.
“No,” I said, already scanning the crowd again for Ox. Where had he gone?
“Oh come on,” drunk guy said.
I still couldn’t remember his name. I could barely even place which party I’d met him at. Not a surprise since I’d been blinded by l
ove at the time. All I’d been able to see was Alex—his handsome face, his smooth voice, his quick smile, his sweet endearments.
I’d been such an idiot.
When he tried to lean in closer, I put a hand up to ward him off. That made him grin. “Aw, come on, Maddie, don’t be like that.” He gave me a knowing look that made me want to vomit. “Alex told me all about you. I know you like to party.”
I blinked at him. “He told you that?”
It was ridiculous that I could still be hurt by Alex, but there it was, an old stab of pain that my ex was talking about me and clearly not giving a great impression.
“Oh yeah,” drunk guy drawled. “He told me all about you.”
His nasty tone had me pushing him off me…hard. He stumbled back a bit.
Maybe Alex had failed to mention that I played softball. Even during the off-season I trained and worked out. I might’ve been on the short side, but if he thought I was weak, he had another thing coming.
For some reason being pushed made him laugh. “Come on, babe. Don’t be like that.”
I cringed at his tone, at his expression. He was acting like he knew me. Like I was some sort of joke.
He leaned back in and lowered his voice. “Alex told me you’re easy, so don’t go making this so hard.”
My stomach sank to the floor as my mouth filled with saliva. I was going to faint. I was going to vomit.
Oh crap, I was going to cry.
It was the casual way he’d said it that really twisted the knife in my gut. He didn’t sound like he was trying to be cruel, just like he was stating a fact.
Alex told him I was easy.
“What do you say, babe?” His voice had turned wheedling, childish even. Clearly this was not a guy who’d heard the word ‘no’ often enough in his life.
“Get away from me,” I managed, as I shifted away from him so my back was no longer against the wall. Or the table filled with Solo cups, as it were. I was mortified by how weak my voice sounded. My normally loud voice was a fraction of its normal volume because my throat was closing in on itself.
“What?” the guy said.
I would not cry. I willed the tears away. I hadn’t shed a tear since the day Alex had dumped me, and I sure as heck wouldn’t start now. I opened my mouth to say it again, hopefully louder this time, but someone beat me to it.
“She said, go away.”
Ox. His voice was even quieter than mine had been but his wasn’t breathy and high-pitched. The rumble of his low growl could be felt a million miles away.
Relief flooded through me so quickly my knees went weak. Luckily there was a large, stone slab planted behind me. Oh wait, that was Ox. He put a big hand on my shoulder and pulled me back, holding me against him as if he knew I wasn’t quite able to stand on my own two feet just yet.
The drunk guy’s face would have made me laugh if I wasn’t hanging on to my sanity by such a thin thread. His jaw had fallen slack and his eyes had widened to saucers as he stared over my head at the guy who quite literally had my back.
“She said,” Ox repeated slowly. “Go. Away.”
I could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, and somehow that vibration against my back, combined with his warmth and his presence, gave me the boost of courage I needed to straighten up and cross my arms over my chest.
I tilted my chin up and stared down my nose at the drunk guy even though he was taller than me. “You heard me,” I added.
He didn’t need another nudge. The dumb drunk turned and stumbled, quickly swallowed up into the crowd.
I turned to face Ox, but I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. How much had he heard? I tried for casual as I stared at his right ear. “You ready to go?”
I saw his nod.
“This party is lame,” I added as he steered me toward the front door.
I heard his grunt, which I assumed was in agreement. I had a feeling he hadn’t stuck around tonight because he’d been having such a great time drinking water and watching drunk people mingle.
He’d stuck around because he was my friend.
The thought only made the knot that filled my throat expand into something so painful I couldn’t speak at all. So it was in silence that we left the frat house and walked the couple of blocks to his truck.
Unlike on the way here when he’d given me a hand to take the giant step up into the passenger side, this time he made quick work of opening the door for me and then picking me up and depositing me on the seat.
Under normal circumstances I might’ve complained. We little people didn’t enjoy being manhandled by those who are not vertically challenged. Tonight, however, I just wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible.
Ox didn’t say a word when he got into the driver’s seat and started the car. This wasn’t a surprise. Ox rarely spoke and when he did it was usually in response to me badgering him until he caved and gave me a one-word response.
He wasn’t a big talker, but that was okay because I had a tendency to talk enough for two. Except for tonight. Except for right now. I took a deep breath in through my nose as we headed down the dark tree-lined streets of Fairfield toward my neighborhood. As we drove away from the campus, the houses grew smaller and the yards separating them practically disappeared.
I didn’t live in one of those nice, new neighborhoods, and come to think of it I had no idea where Ox lived.
It was easier to focus on the passing houses than the emotions that were threatening to come out of hiding. I’d thought I’d banished them. I’d ignored them; I’d stifled them and extinguished them before they could burst into life. I’d thought they were gone for good.
But there they were, nagging at my gut, climbing their way up my chest until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Count the houses. That always worked. Counting always helped me concentrate. I’d reached the fifth house on the street that led toward my neighborhood when Ox broke the silence for the first time ever, as far as I knew.
“You okay?”
I stiffened at the sound of his voice as much as the words. He never talked first. Ever. I couldn’t look at him. The slight hint of concern that laced his gruff voice was already undoing all my hard work with the counting.
I narrowed my gaze and focused on counting mailboxes instead.
“What did he say to you?” That concern I’d thought I’d heard was replaced by a dangerous edge that made me shiver.
Did that mean he hadn’t heard? Or did he just not hear all of it?
Alex told me you’re easy, so don’t go making this so hard.
Oh God, please say Ox hadn’t heard that.
I felt his gaze shift from the road to me as he waited for an answer. I pressed my lips together. Couldn’t he see that I didn’t want to talk? Surely he, of all people, could understand that. Four mailboxes, five mailboxes, six mailboxes…
My mailbox was the eighteenth. When we came to a stop I reached for the door handle but froze when his hand covered mine on the seat between us.
I froze for so many reasons. One, because he wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely guy. A simple hand touch from him was the equivalent of a bear hug from anyone else. Two, that little gesture of kindness was the last straw, probably because it was so unexpected. That simple touch broke through the wall of self-preservation I’d been painstakingly rebuilding after that run in.
Crying has always been painful for me, which was why I never did it. Well, rarely. Not if I could help it. And at this particular moment? I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t have stopped the flood for anything in the world.
The first sob came out as a choking sound and I wouldn’t have been surprised if Ox had given me the Heimlich.
He didn’t, thank God. He probably would’ve broken a rib. But he did reach for me. His hand on mind held on and tugged as his other arm reached around my waist and pulled me toward him.
This was so embarrassing. I was not a pretty crier, and I wasn’t even sure this could be called crying.
I totally lost it. Sobs racked my body and I found myself making these pathetic little mewling sounds as I tried to stop the flood of emotions that I’d kept buried for a year. Shame, guilt, regret, hurt. They all surfaced with a vengeance at the memory of my ex and my former, delusional self.
I’d thought I’d loved him. I’d thought he’d loved me. Why had I been so freakin’ stupid?
I made a half-hearted attempt to fight Ox’s kindness. I mean, I didn’t want anyone to see me melt down like this let alone some guy who was only grudgingly my friend because I’d forced him into it. But when he turned me toward him and tucked my head beneath his chin, I officially lost the battle. There was only so much fight I had in me and right now all reserves were needed to gather the pieces of my broken pride and shove them into some semblance of order so I could go inside and face my parents and my little sisters.
Had Alex really called me easy?
I shouldn’t have let my mind stray there. I should have counted the number of times Ox’s big meaty palm slid over my back, up and down, up and down. Soothing and warm, just like the sound of his heartbeat beneath my ear. Somehow I’d wound up cuddled to his chest as he held me.
Ox’s touch was completely different from the guy I was crying over.
Alex and I were hot and heavy, for sure when I’d dated him, but I hadn’t slept with him. We would have, eventually. I’d been thinking about it, just waiting for the right moment. I’d thought I was in love and he would have been my first.
He dumped me before we could take that step. I guess I should have been glad that he’d ended it before I’d done something I couldn’t take back, but that was little consolation then and now.
I’d fallen for the wrong guy. Me. The girl who’d predicted all the great romances in our school. The one who’d seen my best friends fall in love ages before they’d even admit they had romantic feelings for their significant others.
The Perfect Score (Kissing the Enemy Book 3) Page 1