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there was nothing like seventy thousand people watching you get fucked that really put a guy on edge.
Moments like this meant I’d made it and proved my critics wrong—which I had, many times over. After all, I was Asher Fucking Donovan.
I didn’t know much about Scarlett DuBois, but given she was related to Vincent, I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to like her. At all.
He was most women’s celebrity crush, and he might’ve been mine too had it not been for my loyalty to Vincent, my strict No Footballers rule, and his questionable reputation.
I didn’t wish for much outside the realm of football, but I’d give up one of my cars to see her again.
Asher was one of the most famous athletes in the world, yet he possessed the down-to-earth charm of the boy next door. Raw masculinity wrapped in cool confidence. The combination was so magnetic,
I have to commend you on achieving something that I thought was impossible.” “What’s that?” “Making me like someone with the last name DuBois.”
If the way he said darling was illegal, the velvety intimacy with which he uttered my name was downright sinful.
“Scarlett is off limits.”
Besides, I have a strict no-footballer rule. Asher Donovan is not on my romantic radar, and he never will be.”
He wasn’t my brother’s nemesis or my trainee—he was the person who’d carried me up three flights of stairs, stayed with me until I regained consciousness, and didn’t make me feel like an object of pity when I told him about my accident. And that’s exactly why he’s dangerous.
Scarlett still haunted my thoughts like a smart-mouthed, entirely-too-beautiful ghost.
Football did define me. It was the only thing I’d ever excelled at. What would I be without it? Nothing.
Was it normal for a human heart to beat this fast? I had my annual checkup a few weeks ago. The doctor said everything looked normal, but maybe I needed a second opinion because something strange was going on inside my chest.
“Two hundred fifty million pounds is a lot of money.” “It is, but I don’t think that’s the only reason.” “Why not?” “You don’t strike me as someone who’d do something solely for a paycheck.”
“A DuBois saying something nice about my character? Someone check the temperature in hell.” “I’m not my brother.”
Her hands were warm against my skin, and I liked the way she curled into me.
“I hate to interrupt your ogling, but can you please get up? As much as I love having you on top of me, this tile wasn’t designed for comfort.”
my thoughts returned to where they always went. Back to her. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
We’d known each other for two months, yet I couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t exist in my orbit.
her gasp turned into a moan, and her lips parted for mine, and I knew nothing would be the same ever again.
I couldn’t imagine a me without him, and that terrified me more than anything else.
Our relationship was built on unspoken words. We’d gotten better at expressing them over the past two months, but there were still a few words that remained locked away inside me. Three, to be exact.
I was so in love with him that the thought of him dying made me want to die.
I was in love with someone who didn’t love himself, and I didn’t know where that left me.
I was racing. I knew three words would have the power to change our relationship. I just hadn’t expected it to be those three.
This was the pain of my heart truly breaking for the first time in my life.
“Now I’m going to say this once—and if you tell anyone, I’ll fucking deny it—but we need you back on the pitch.
In the short time I’d known him, he’d ingrained himself into my life so thoroughly that I couldn’t imagine living it without him.
don’t want to ruin my chances of spending as many days with you as possible because I love you.
“I’m so fucking in love with you, darling, and the only reckless thing I want to do is explore how deep this rabbit hole goes with you. Together.”
I had to scratch and claw my way toward this moment, but I made it. I was here, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.
