Page 15 of Worth the Scandal
He doesn’t even blink. “Asher Kingston? The one who kicked a ball at your skull?”
I whip my head toward him. “I knew that wasn’t an accident!”
“Oh, it was a hundred percent on purpose,” Caleb says, grinning with something dark in his eyes. “He’s been acting weird all week. Like… extra edgy.”
I laugh nervously. “Weird. I’ve literally never seen, met, or even heard of him before.”Smooth.
Caleb raises an eyebrow. “Okay…”
Damn it. That was too defensive. Note to self: work on casual lying.
“He’s a player,” Caleb adds. “Like, capital P. Ladies’ man. Serious charm. Not exactly relationship material. He’s had a few girls after him since he signed with us 2 years ago and they all end up gone within a few weeks.”
Yeah. No kidding. My uterus figured that out two seconds into eye contact.
“Besides he’s off-limits,” Caleb says, serious now. “Coach made itveryclear that if anyone messes with you, they’re benched. No ifs, no buts.”
Oh wow. Dad’s playing full-time commander cockblock.
I smirk. “Well, for the record, I’ve got my eyes on all of you. Strictly business. Maroon Management is opening its first office right here in Dawson’s, and I think it’s about time the Ridgebacks got on my roster.”
Caleb whistles low. “Boss bitch moves; I did see your new biz pages.”
“You know it.”
The car slows to a stop in front of the house and my breath catches.
It’s… beautiful. More beautiful than I remember.
White weatherboard panelling. A wide wraparound veranda with rocking chairs that look like they’ve got stories to tell. Hanging baskets with blooming lavender. Slate-blue shutters. Warm porch lights already glowing golden in the late afternoon sun.
It’s too big for Dad alone. But I know why he is back here in our once family home.
This is the house Mum loved. The kind of place she’d sit out on Sunday mornings with coffee and a crossword, barefoot, wearing one of Dad’s old shirts.
My heart aches. But it’s a good ache. Familiar. Soft around the edges. Nostalgic.
Caleb hops out and opens my door. “Go on. I’ll let you settle in.”
“Thanks,” I say, lingering for a second. “I really needed this.”
He gives me a warm smile, accompanied by the biggest hug and soft kiss to the forehead. “Anytime, Scar.”
I watch as not so little Caleb Farah hops back into his black SUV. He’s still that blonde haired browned eyed little boy I loved. But now he towers at 6’3”. If I wasn’t already crushing over, thou who shan’t be named then Caleb would be the perfect person to spend my time with.
I head inside. My bags are already waiting neatly in the hallway. Of course they are. Shelley probably arranged it. She’s terrifyingly efficient. No wonder dad loves her, it must be nice to have someone looking out and after you, even if that’s what she’s paid to do.
I wander through the house—wide open living spaces, honey-toned floorboards, high ceilings. The walls are painted soft grey; with framed football jerseys and a few old family photos still scattered between the decor.
I pause at one—me and Mum, arms wrapped around each other, laughing.
God, I miss her.
I take a deep breath and make a mental note: I need to get it together. I’ve got a dinner date with Shelley tonight and there’s a high chance Mr. Mysterious/Kingston/Trauma-Incarnate could be out on the town. After all this town is small.
Which means I need an outfit that says unbothered, thriving, probably in a situationship with your teammate.
And a backstory. Fast.
