Page 77 of Worth the Scandal
And I don’t even answer, I just smile like a dumb ass because both on and off the field I know I have. They’ve sat him down on a chair just outside the tunnel, he’s refused to go in until the team does.
Shell’s used her PA pass and has made her way down, to meet me.
She screams beside me, jumping. Fans are on their feet. The whole of Dawson’s is relishing in the moment.
And then I see a beat up Ridgeback with an ice pack ragging himself towards me, and he does something I don’t see coming at all—he kisses me.
Hot. Bold. In front of everyone.
The crowd goes absolutely feral now.
“About damn time!” someone yells.
Shell screams “YESSSS!” and claps so hard I think she’ll bruise.
He finally pulls back, grinning, hair a mess, eyes on fire now blazing with desire, pride, and my reflection.
“So,” he pants. “You ready to meet my parents then? In Sydney.”
I laugh—hard and helpless. I hope this isn’t just the concussion talking. “Is that your idea of a reward for winning?”
“No,” he says, sliding a hand into mine. “That’s just foreplay, and I’ll let you decide if it’s a reward or punishment.” He rubs his hand over his face and laughs to himself, I think he is in disbelief of what he’s just proposed.
Before we can take in any more of the moment Asher is swarmed by press and as his manager this is the best thing to ever happen to the brand that is Asher Kingston. But as his girlfriend the pride swells through my veins and straight to my own eye lids a tear rolling down my cheek. I wish I could bottle this moment up forever so I can revisit whenever I want to—but this is real life and I’ll never get this moment back. Instead, I stand there staring, watching on with a smile so wide my cheeks hurt. And so much passion and love in my heart I don’t know how it gets any better than this. I do know how it’ll get worse—I’ve got important news to share with Ash, and I’m not sure how he’ll take it. It does feel like he’s almost read my mind with the Sydney trip though.
Chapter Thirty Five - Asher
Sydney is louder than I remember.
Too many people. Too many voices. Too many expectations sitting in the corners of rooms, dressed in expensive designer suits and doused in quiet judgment. I keep my arm around Scarlett’s waist like that will ground me, but I still feel the weight pressing in. This has never been the life for me.
We’ve arrived at dinner and Scar is about to meet Mum and the man who helped her create me but didn’t do much else except ride my fucking ass—dad, Alfred Kingsley. Moving away and living with my uncle out bush was the best thing they ever did for us kids really. Should’ve left us out there, Ben might still be alive. The sweat on my palms is increasing by the second. Along with the anxiety over the questions I know they’ll be asking, as they micro analyse every move I make, and every gesture towards Scarlett. I ring the doorbell instead of my usual walk straight in, the nerves have me acting way out of character, but it could be this house too. It’s easy to forget who I am when I’m living in a quaint 3 bedder in Dawson’s, not this. Perched high on the cliffs of Vaucluse, the house isn’t just a residence—it’s a statement. A glass and stone fortress tucked behind ornate iron gates, wrapped in manicured hedges and towering gum trees, with an uninterrupted view of the glittering harbourbelow. Don’t even bother asking about the inside, think soaring ceilings, brutalist architecture, and luxury in every single detail.
Mum answers with the biggest Cheshire cat grin I’ve ever seen—it really has been a long time since I’ve brought a girl home (and since I’ve been home myself)—she embraces me against my will into a hug before so much as a hello.
“Hi mum, nice to see you too” I clear my throat
“This is Scar—“
“Scarlett, you beautiful little thing, I’m so glad to finally get the chance to meet you. Asher’s been hiding you away down in Dawson’s” she leans in and kisses Scarlett on either cheek. Ah the theatrics.
Scarlett looks over to me with a wide smile, she is loving this as much as mum is.Great.
“Oh Mrs Kingsley, thank you for having me” her eyes rise at the name, she’s taken back by the fact I’ve told Scarlett exactly who they are. Well let’s be straight, Scarlett worked it out.
“Nonsense dear we’ve been dying for Asher to bring a pretty girl home.” Jesus Christ so anyone else that I’ve brought home obviously wasn’t up to mum’s standards in looks. She’s insulting me before I’ve got in the damn door.
“Okay ladies let’s get in the door yeah?” I interject motioning for Scarlett to walk in before me placing my hand on her lower back. Pretty, pfft I audibly scoff because what a fucking understatement, she looks ethereal, she’s wearing an emerald dress with lace sleeves, it’s tight and hugs her figure everywhere it should, and stopping at her ankles where it’s met by the straps of her black dressy heels. She is the picture of elegance and sophistication she’s just as luxurious as this house; she doesn’t just fit in here she stands out.
We walk into the grand foyer and Dad appears.
Here we go.I brace myself for what’s to come from the old man.
“Son.” He gives me a curt nod and hands me a scotch on the rocks. Straight into the heavy shit I see.
“Dad, this is Scarlett.” I introduce her to Alfred giving her a soft kiss on the head. I tower over Scarlett. I love that.
“Scarlett, I’d love to know how Asher here managed to win you over. You are beautiful my dear.” Scarlett blushes falling right into his web, she’s going to love them, and I won’t stand a chance here. Ahh fuck, another sneaky insult but at least dad is not blind like mum.
