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To loving every version of yourself, even the ones you want to leave behind.
“Your instructor will be Scarlett DuBois.” Coach offered a mirthless smile. “You’re welcome.”
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.
Asher Donovan. Of all the people in the world, the other player had to be him. 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.
Asher was generally regarded as the world’s greatest footballer. The striker who played as impressively as he looked, the savior whose goals had brought his team back from the brink of defeat countless times.
She was objectively, unequivocally stunning. Glossy black hair, creamy skin, light gray eyes fringed with thick lashes—she looked like a classic Hollywood star in the mold of Ava Gardner and Hedy Lamarr.
Our hands brushed when she reached for the outstretched book, and a frisson of electricity shot up my arm. It was so sharp, so unexpected, that I almost dropped the paperback. What the hell? She stiffened, making me wonder if she’d felt it too, but her expression was unreadable.
Anti-footballer biases aside, the man was gorgeous. As in, gave-Nate-Reynolds-a-run-for-his-money, movie-star gorgeous.
Thick dark hair flopped over his forehead, framing sculpted cheekbones and a sensual mouth. Unfairly long lashes fringed the greenest eyes I’d ever seen, and every inch of his body was chiseled to high-performance perfection.
If he weren’t my brother’s teammate and rival, I would be swooning big-time.
“I finally know your name.” “Did it live up to your expectations?” I quipped. “Half of it did. You look like a Scarlett.” His gaze briefly touched my mouth, and my skin warmed yet again. “Ah, but the DuBois threw you off.” “You could say that.”
“I’m afraid flirting is part of my nature, darling.”
If the way he said darling was illegal, the velvety intimacy with which he uttered my name was downright sinful.
I found out the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about was related to my biggest rival. The universe had a sick sense of humor.
Scarlett is off limits. Vincent’s warning echoed in my head. I was inclined to heed it—not because I was afraid of him, but because I was afraid of what getting close to Scarlett might do to me if I didn’t.
I didn’t like talking about my chronic pain. It often made people uncomfortable, which made me uncomfortable. They were sympathetic, of course, but there was always a beat of pity, an unspoken poor you that had me biting my tongue.
unfortunately it do be like that
Nothing will happen because you’re both smarter than that, and she is Off Limits. Capital O, capital L.
Scarlett DuBois: the woman who sold her convictions for Epsom salts and a Jacuzzi bathtub.
If her smile was a burglar, her laugh was a fucking thief because I was pretty sure she just stole a piece of my heart from right out under me.
Asher kissed the way he played—skilled, dominant, and so thorough in his approach that it left me dizzy.
If Scarlett had plagued my thoughts before, the kiss had built her a permanent home there and invited her in for tea.
No matter where we were or how many people surrounded us, she commanded my attention like a lighthouse in a storm. Bright. Beautiful. Unwavering.
I looked at her, this beautiful, incredible woman whom I never would’ve expected would turn my world upside down, and marveled that she was mine.
“We all have ugly feelings sometimes. It’s a part of human nature. But it’s what we do with them that counts.”
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 in love with him. I was so in love with him that the thought of him dying made me want to die.
Hi, darling. The only words that always made me feel like I was coming home.
I love you. More than football, more than racing, more than anything else in this universe—Pluto included.”
“I love you,” he repeated, his words thick with emotion. “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 did that on purpose. I didn’t want to sound repetitive because what I really want to say is that I love you too.” My voice softened. “More than anything else in the universe, including Pluto.”
He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me.
I didn’t always appreciate the way other people said my full name—like I was a brand and a commodity instead of a person. But when Scarlett said it, she said it like she saw every piece of me—the good and the bad—and she loved me because of, not despite, the different facets of my character.
The past was the past, and the future was unpredictable. But the present? It belonged to us, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
