Sinner(139)

“You two need to run this team, and no hanky panky bullshit and hurt feelings can get between that and-”

“How many times would you like me to say it, Don?”

He nods. “I’m just looking out for you, Landon.”

“Thanks.” I glance at my watch. “Anything else? I gotta go grab Emily.”

Don shakes his head.

“Great.”

There’s a cloud following me as I storm back through the stadium offices and down to the garage.

I never should have let her in like I did. The night in Houston should have stayed just that: that one night in Houston, just like a terrible country song title.

There are a lot of other girls out there I can go screw, and then wash my hands of. One and done, that’s my style and that’s how I keep going. It’s how I stay whole. No relationships, no dates, no bullshit. Anything more is drama, and drama like that pulls you under until you drown all over again.

And I can’t drown. I need to breathe, if not for me, than for my daughter.

That night a few days ago here in my house? I don’t let go like that. I fuck, I make them come like they’ve never come before, and that’s it. There’s no talking, no reminiscing about life. There’s sure as shit never been me talking about Sarah, and now I’m extra ticked off at myself for doing it. I’m pissed at myself for having her meet my damn kid - for bringing her into my life.

The important thing here is the money. Sure, I keep telling myself and everyone around me that it’s the “legacy” that matters. And it does, but the money that comes with securing the team and Sam’s legacy secures a future for my daughter.

And that’s all that matters.

That’s all that can matter in my life, no matter how drawn I am to Serena.





Chapter Nineteen





Serena




“Your place looks amazing!”

I snort, slugging back some of the wine I’m drinking out of a plastic cup. “Oh, yeah, it’s really something.”

I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor of a completely empty condo. My brand new, completely unfurnished, Denver condo. Despite some of the ridiculously nice ones with the ginormous price-tags that Landon and I toured, I ended up going with a much more modest one on a quieter street away from downtown, with spectacular views of the mountains. Even with the more modest price, the entire thing was only made possible with an advance loan from the Rattlesnakes board that Landon badgered through on the grounds that it was insane that I was still living out of a hotel.

Part of me wants to bitch about being able to handle things myself. The other part of me is really content with this awesome view and a nicer living space than I’ve had since I was still living with my dad.

“I mean it has potential, smart-ass,” London laughs, grinning at me through my computer screen.

Seriously, this is my Friday night as a single woman in a brand new city. Alone in a condo completely devoid of any furniture, sitting on the floor drinking wine from a to-go cup and Facetime-ing with my friend back in Houston.

I’m pretty okay with it.

It’s been a week since the time at Landon’s house - my disastrous attempt at “sexy trench coat” that turned into pajama movie night with his daughter. And then of course, everything that happened after.

Crashing into each other.

Ignoring the warning signs.

Breaking our rules all over again.

“Once you’ve got some furniture in there, that place is going to be gorgeous.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “Oh, no, I’ve decided to go with this whole minimalist thing. Furniture is so material.”

London rolls her eyes. “Nerd.”

“Anyways, like I can afford any anyways. This whole condo is basically one giant IOU from the Rattlesnakes board.”

“And when do these voting shares get turned into the millions of dollars you’re going to use to take the two of us on a fabulous vacation after this little one pops out?”

She points her laptop screen lower so I can see her belly.

“London, you’re like a month pregnant. There’s no bump.”

“There is so.”

“There’s not, but I can tell you want me to lie pretty to you. So, yeah, I see it.”

She grins. “Thanks.”

Suddenly, two big, masculine hands reach around and slide across her stomach.

“Oh you mean this bump?”

I smile. “Hi, Holden.”

“What’s up, Serena?” London’s fiancé pokes his head over her shoulder and grins at me. “How’s working for the enemy?”

“Wow, so the team you played for less than two months ago is now the enemy?”

“Yep. Fuck those guys, go Houston.” He flashes that cocky smile he’s famous for. No, actually famous for. Besides one of the best quarterbacks in pro ball, he’s been in half a dozen commercials.