Page 75 of Text Me Baby One More Time

My champagne glass disappears from my hand, she guzzles the contents down, and then she brushes past me with a triumphant glint in her eyes.

I shake my head, smiling, watching her immerse herself in a group of players like that’s exactly where she belongs. As a journalist, it probably is.

I wonder how her article is coming along, what exactly it is she’s writing about. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to ask her, but I can’t say I care enough to actually do so.

I’m only letting her write it so I can spend time with her. She can write anything she wants. Tell people I wet the fucking bed for all I care—as long as by the end of this whole exchange of services, she’s mine.

“I see you brought her back. A first for you, man.”

Braxton appears beside me, holding out a new glass of champagne. I take it with no intention of drinking it. Like hell I’m letting Denver drive my truck again.

“Yep,” I reply.

“Guess you haven’t fucked it up.”

“Not yet.”

“You will.”

I glare at him. “Thanks, dick.”

He lifts a shoulder. “What? She’s too good to be true, and too good for you.”

“You say the sweetest things, Brax.”

“Does she know what happened with your brother? That little hissy fit you threw?”

I tense at the mention of Zach and Delia and the second biggest mistake of my life.

“She doesn’t,” I say through clenched teeth. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“You should tell her, let her decide if you’re redeemable.”

“I will…eventually.”

Braxton grunts like he doesn’t believe me.

Fucker.

I do plan to tell her, just not yet, not when things are going as well as they are. I’ll do it before the wedding.

I hope.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, switching off the alarm.

“That’s my cue. We’re second tonight.”

“Second? Lucky little shit.” His heavy hand lands on my shoulder. “See ya next week.”

I groan, mentally ticking off another event in my head.

Two down, just three more to go.

Since Gerard didn’t press charges and because my coach finds me “valuable”—his words, not mine—I got out of the whole mess pretty clean, all things considered. I’m suspended for the remainder of the season, not allowed to participate in team activities, and must pay a nominal fine for making the team look like shit.

The club made me paydamages. I mean, seriously?

Whatever, it’s understandable, but for my agent and PR team to force me to attend these charity events instead of just donating like I always do? Fucking deplorable.

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