“Oh.” Heavy sigh. Full-on pout. Tear-filled eyes. “I guess we’ll just . . . have a few guy friends over. I think I still have some X left after that last orgy. Maybe we’ll even go to prison, I’ve always wanted to see the inside of one. Do you think I can be someone’s bitch? I mean I’m already yours so . . .”
“Fuck.” I tugged at my hair, then searched inside for any semblance of calm and came back empty. Parker looked from Willow to me like she wasn’t sure if she should intervene or run.
“Matt, admit it, this is a really great opportunity to introduce me to some of your clients without the pressure of it being strictly business. You can wine and dine them, introduce me, and then I can start getting to know them. Admit it, I’m right.” She crossed her arms.
My eye twitched as I tried to conjure up a way to fight her logic. “Fine. You can come, no fangirling, no autographs, no crotch grabs or ass grabs, no phone number exchanges, Snapchats, Instagram photos. If you tag anyone in your live feed, I’ll shut down every social media account you have.” I inhaled then exhaled. “And no flirting. I don’t care if that’s just how you were made.” I made air quotes. “It’s unprofessional. Oh, Slade is married so you’re going nowhere with that one, and Jagger’s one bad choice away from being sent back to Russia.” I sighed. “Just . . . be good.”
“Good.” Willow snorted. “This is my future. We’ll be great! Right, Parker?”
Parker hadn’t said one word the entire time, but her skin was pale and her lips were pressed together like she was afraid she was going to say something she’d regret. After a gulp, she nodded to me and then gave Willow a petrified look. What? Could they communicate without speech now? Plus, she seemed so calm next to Willow, almost shy. Maybe she was going to be easier than my own sister to deal with.
I probably owed both of them an apology.
But I was all out of fucks.
So I shrugged in Parker’s direction and then stomped past both girls to get dressed with visions of whiskey dancing in my head.
Chapter Four
PARKER
I tugged down my tight black dress so it covered my ass and shot Willow a murderous glare; this was the last time I ever said yes to any of her clothing choices. She knew I didn’t wear dresses, just like she knew I wasn’t the best at meeting new people. I had foot-in-mouth syndrome. I constantly said what was on my mind, and my therapist often told me that I lacked the emotional empathy to care if anyone around me was affected by my words.
I just . . . I didn’t have time to babysit other people’s feelings.
And right now, my sole focus was to break out after college, get signed to a team as fast as humanly possible, make enough money to find a stable place to live, and do what I love for as long as my body allowed me. I didn’t just love the sport of soccer, I loved the way that it made me forget about everything bad in life. It was my focus, my reason for getting up in the morning. It was everything to me, and the fact that it could be taken away, or that I could end up working at Starbucks, terrified me. I wanted to go pro. Bad.
I gulped when Matt stopped walking and checked his watch. Willow was on his right, I was on his left. He looked at her, then whipped his head over to me. Was he waiting for me to say something? Why were we just standing outside the restaurant?
I cleared my throat.
He cleared his.
I tried not blinking.
He didn’t back down.
“That’s not a dress,” was what he went with. Every word clipped with disdain like he had a right to tell me what I was allowed to wear. Who died and made him my father? It wasn’t like he was that old. Willow said he was barely thirty!
“Pardon?” I snapped, then mentally berated myself for my harsh response. See? Foot-in-mouth was ready to strike again. I dug my fingernails into my palms and waited for his response.
“That”—he jerked his chin at me like I was a petulant child, and I ignored the butterflies that swarmed in my belly at his heated look—“is not a dress.” He leaned in. “Dresses have fabric. They cover things that need to stay covered. That’s a long tank top that should have been thrown out when you grew boobs in the eighth grade.” He shook his head and paled, then mumbled awkwardly, “Not that I’m looking at your boobs.”
I gritted my teeth as rage took over like it always did when I felt threatened or insulted. I pointed at the orange stripe resting on his chest. “Well, that’s not a tie.”
“Bullshit, this is a great tie!” Matt pulled on it a bit and stretched his neck. “It’s marmalade and goes with my white suit.”
“You look like a pumpkin-spice latte.” I grinned. “But the really shitty kind they give away for free at the mall.”
“Parker!” Willow hissed.
“What? He insulted my dress!” I argued, trying to hide the hurt I felt at his obvious dislike of me. Willow should have mentally prepared him for both of us as a package deal. I felt unwanted and annoying. Plus, I needed him, which just made the situation that much more dire. “And no rebuttal. Nice.” I started to walk away only to have Matt grab me by the hand and jerk me back.
Willow cursed and pressed her fingertips to her forehead.
“Behave.” His breath was hot on my ear. “I don’t know you. In fact, I’m instantly regretting letting you into my house, but this night is important. These people may be friends, but they’re still clients. Respect them or I’m finding you a nice cardboard box to call home in downtown Seattle. Got it?”
I sucked in a breath. “You would steal a box from people who are truly homeless?”
“What did I do to deserve this?” He looked toward the sky and then shook his head. “Let’s go. Remember what I said.” He paused and then added, “Both of you.”
“Yes, Dad.” I winked at Willow. My voice was shaky, and I felt the onslaught of tears. A few minutes in and I was already messing everything up! I focused on the embarrassment of him calling me out as anger clouded my line of vision. “We’ll be good. Promise.”
Regret came hard and fast as we made our way into the fancy, dimly lit restaurant.
What the hell was I doing?
I needed him.
And yet I had insulted his tie and called him names.
It didn’t help that he was pretty to look at, with smooth, tanned skin, a white flashy smile, eyes that crinkled, and an expressive face that captivated me even though I didn’t want it to. Yeah, and I’d called him Dad. Good one!
I took a calming breath. I could do this. I could be nice even if he was an ass. I just needed to keep my attitude in check.
How hard could it be?
Just because I’ve never particularly had that talent doesn’t mean I can’t suddenly develop it, over dinner, in a high-stress situation.
My smile felt brittle as we sat down at an elegant circular table. I recognized Jagger instantly, he winked at me and then looked ready to swallow his tongue when he locked eyes with Willow.
I watched the exchange with interest mainly because I wondered how Matt could have such a gorgeous little sister and not realize that every athlete that worked for him would probably do anything to get into her pants.
Huh.
Matt ordered a bottle of wine just as Slade Rodriguez walked in and sat across from us with a stunning woman on his arm. I’d read he’d gotten married.
I hadn’t read that she was a supermodel.
Her smile was warm as she introduced herself to everyone.
Lastly was some guy from the Bellevue Bucks that I’m pretty sure could eat everyone at the table and still have calories to burn. He was gorgeous in a cocky way, and the woman on his arm had the most attractive curves I’d ever seen in my life.
As in, give-me-your-entire-workout-plan-so-I-can-find-my-ass sort of curves.
“So . . .” Slade gave Matt an amused look. “I heard you have new roommates.”
Matt sighed and reached for the wine. “They can hear you. For the record.”
“I know.” A grin stretched ac
ross his face. “This pleases me more than it should.” He nodded to Willow. “You still planning on following in his footsteps?”
She giggled. “You know it.”
“Brave woman.”
“And smart, don’t forget smart.” She pointed her wineglass at him as the table fell silent. All eyes moved to me.
Great.
Just don’t yell.
Or insult anyone.
I forced a smile and waited while Slade’s eyes narrowed and then widened in shock.
Oh no.
This was bad.
This was going to be very, very bad.
“Parker Speedman?” he said in a rich, deep voice.
“Uh, present?” I laughed lightly.
“Wow.” He tossed his napkin down on the table. “Didn’t you punch your own coach last year before the championship—”
“Yeah,” I said quickly and reached for my wine, took two long gulps and then changed the subject. “So, Matt works for all of you?”
“Aw, I think I love this girl. She actually realizes we’re the talent, not you.” Jagger winked at Matt. “And yeah, we’ve been together a while, plus we make him money.”
Matt snorted. “You’re actually causing me to lose money when your racist grandmother tries to attack members of the media with a fork.”
“Can’t say I didn’t warn ya, man!” Jagger laughed and shifted his focus to me. “So you punched your coach?” He leaned in. “What was that like? Invigorating? Powerful? What the hell was she doing that she deserved a punch?”
“He,” I corrected, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. “And we don’t need to talk about it. Water under the bridge.” Sweat broke out across my forehead as I tried to keep it cool on the surface while I was dying a little bit on the inside.
“Parker?” Matt said my name softly, but it was jarring, so I jumped in my seat and nearly spilled the water in my hand.
“Hmm, yes?”
“Are you okay?”
I swallowed and looked down at my lap. I tried to force a smile and look unperturbed. It had been a year of forced smiles and trying not to react, hadn’t it? If this past year had taught me anything it was that all I had was myself, my dreams, and Willow. My dad had never wanted me to go pro, he put huge value on education and had always looked at soccer as a hobby. I swear he was relieved when my coach all but said he would blacklist me.
And that was the final nail in the coffin of my relationship with my dad.
Because I was his only daughter.
His flesh and blood.
And he never asked me why a coach would threaten his own athlete.
Never asked why I flinched when my coach touched my arm.
Maybe he knew.
Maybe he didn’t want to know.
In my mind that made him just as bad as my coach, just as guilty.
“I’m fine.” My voice sounded weak to my ears but I smiled at everyone around the table. I put on a show like I always did. I tried to make everyone believe I was great when inside I felt exactly the opposite.
I really needed to find a new therapist. One I could trust. One who didn’t work for the college—one who didn’t sleep with the very coach who sent me to see her in the first place.
“You look fine.” Jagger frowned at me and then looked at Matt. “So, three months, huh? Nothing but estrogen floating around your house. You think your balls are going to shrivel up any smaller?”
“The real question is, can they get any smaller?” Slade piped up.
I smiled like everyone else.
And ate my food.
I nodded when people spoke to me.
I didn’t cry when they talked about the game I loved so much.
It was like standing outside my body, watching the performance, coaching myself on all the right things to do so that I didn’t mess up my last chance. It was emotionally and physically exhausting trying to keep that smile in place.
So when dinner was over, I slouched a bit in my chair before standing.
“Hey.” Slade’s wife, Mackenzie, put a hand on my shoulder. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”
I flinched. I hated being touched. Being touched reminded me of dark things done in dark places.
I politely stepped away from her as if she had startled me, and then shrugged. “It’s just been a really long day.”
She shook her head and tossed her caramel-colored hair. Her wide smile was so engaging it was hard not to smile back. “I have those often, so I get it. Well, I hope you stick around longer than the summer.”
I sighed as my stomach dropped. “That all depends on if I get signed with a team.”
“Signed?” Jagger butted into the conversation. “Who’s interested?”
“As of right now, nobody,” I said as Slade joined us, his penetrating gaze going right through me. I was ready to have a full-blown panic attack at the attention. It wasn’t just that he was a big deal, he was a soccer god, his fan clubs had fan clubs, so the fact that he was even overhearing the conversation was sucking the oxygen from the atmosphere.
Mackenzie must have noticed because she rolled her eyes at the men as they waited for me to say more about my nonexistent career. “Could you guys give us a little privacy?”
Slade gave her a What did I do face before walking away.
She wrapped an arm around me, again causing me to tense up, and pulled me aside. “So you had interest and now no interest? I feel like there’s more to the story, spill.”
“I don’t know you,” I blurted stupidly. I didn’t just blindly trust people, I’d learned that lesson the hard way. I’d barely even filled Willow in on everything. It gave me anxiety just thinking about it, and my chest tightened as I tried to suck in some air through my pursed lips.
“Which should make it easier.” She stared at me.
I glared right back.
She didn’t so much as flinch.
I decided I liked her. She reminded me of Willow. I liked strong women, and she seemed like one of those women.
Finally, I relaxed a fraction. “I have interest from Seattle.” I didn’t tell her that’s where I really wanted to be, as far away from him as possible. “San Diego, LA, Florida, and a new team in Dallas.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that’s quite a lot of offers.”
“Interest. Not offers,” I grumbled.
“No agent?” she guessed.
“Something like that.” It was a partial truth. The whole truth could never come out. Ever. It would only destroy what was left of me.
“Hey, Matt!” Mackenzie actually called him over. I gave her a What the hell look. No, no, no! It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! I was going to show him my stats, tapes of my playing, the normal thing! And if that wasn’t enough to convince him to represent me I would go with plan B—baking cookies and getting him drunk off his ass! I wasn’t supposed to ask for a favor three hours in! That’s not how these things work! I felt my cheeks blush a bright red when she grinned at him. “You owe me a favor.”
“So?”
“I’m calling it in.”
“I don’t recall this conversation.”
“I think I was in the shower . . . with Slade.” She tapped her chin. “Something about sexual harassment and—”
“What do you want?” he interrupted quickly.
She pointed at me with a triumphant grin. “Your new roommate needs an agent. Seattle’s shown interest as well as other teams. Let the negotiations begin!” She nodded like it was just that easy.
Matt leveled me with a glare that had me ready to back into the dessert cart behind me. He didn’t blink. His face didn’t move. Every gorgeous angle of his face was taut with tension.
Great.
Thanks, Mackenzie!
“My rate is fifteen percent of whatever you earn.”
I gulped and opened my mouth. He held up his hand.
“But since I don’t know you, I’m going to take twenty-five percent of your first co
ntract and we’ll see where we go from there. What kind of offers were you given?”
“My coach wouldn’t share that information with me,” I whispered, trying to keep the sadness and anger out of my voice.
He rubbed his chin. “Maybe I should give him a call and—”
“No!” I blurted a little too loudly. “No, I mean . . .”
Everyone turned to look at me.
Shit.
I shouldn’t have come.
I shouldn’t have worn a tiny dress that fit Willow better than my thick thighs.
I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath. “Can we please just leave him out of it? He’s not a nice man.”
Mackenzie elbowed Matt.
“Fine.”
I exhaled in relief.
“I’ll have Willow draw up a contract in the morning. You’ll be her guinea pig, she’ll assist me with you, and I’ll try to make you”—he eyed me up and down—“look like a world-class athlete instead of a fifteen-year-old with a tiny dress on. How’s that sound?”
“Like sexual harassment,” I chirped.
Mackenzie burst out laughing. “I have a feeling this is going to be a great relationship!”
“My. Ass,” Matt whispered under his breath and grabbed his keys. “Let’s go, girls. Bedtime.”
“Okay, Dad,” Willow grumbled just as Matt jerked her away from Jagger’s clutches. Jagger sent me a sultry wink as Matt opened our doors and put us in the Escalade.
He drove with his hands at ten and two the entire way home.
His face impossible to read.
His body? Tense.
I wondered if that tension had to do with me, his sister, or the fact that we were raining on his parade for the next three months and that I’d somehow just made it all worse.
Chapter Five
MATT
They hadn’t even been in my house for twenty-four hours and already everything was changing.
I found a box of tampons in the hall bathroom.
Next to a can of aerosol spray that had a giant kangaroo on it and something about a twenty-four-hour hold.
For what? Your ponytail?
I broke out in a cold sweat when I spotted another toothbrush near the sink. It was red with sparkles. This bothered me. I had no idea why. It wasn’t like it was the master bathroom. But it was still my fucking bathroom.
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