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  Copyright 2018 © Score by Emma Louise

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Score is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.

  Edited by Jenn Wood at All About The Edits

  Cover Designed by Mary Ruth at Passion Creations

  Formatting by Silla Webb at Masque of the Red Pen

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek

  To Adriana.

  Thank you for turning a dream into reality.

  Sometimes, two people have to fall apart

  to realize how much they need to fall back together

  -unknown

  10 years ago

  “Baby girl, you know we’re going to be fine, right?”

  His whisper is rough in my ear, his breath heavy against my skin, and it sends a shiver racing through me. We’ve been here, in his bed, for most of the day. Anytime he unwinds his body from mine, a cold strike of fear rushes through me. Right now, he’s pressed up against my back, his arms wrapped around my chest, his chin propped on my shoulder. I let my eyes trail around the room. The TV is still on; the abandoned movie has long since ended and the screen plays ads for God knows what useless crap. There are clothes strewn around and you can see how our passionate greeting this morning has played out by how far and wide our clothes are dispersed.

  An old hoodie of mine is hanging on the back of the door, mixed in with his jackets. I can’t see them, but I know that I have a drawer full of clothes in that dresser over there and my toothbrush is next to his in the bathroom next door. There’s a small glass bowl on the bedside table next to me that holds my loose change and hair ties. It’s right there, on my side of his bed.

  When I take too long to reply, he lets out a deep sigh. “You don’t need to worry. I promise.”

  I can hear in his voice how much he needs me to believe what he’s saying. Trying my hardest to hide how scared I am, I turn onto my back to gaze up at him. My arms snake up his broad shoulders, and I run my fingers up into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down on top of me. Even the smallest of distances between us is unbearable right now. I wish I could lay here forever, with our naked bodies pressed together, reveling in the feeling of his hard body against my much softer one.

  "I’m sorry," I finally manage to say. "I hate being this insecure, but have you seen you?" I try to make light of my bad attitude, but I can still hear the pout in my own voice. I can't help it. He lets out a small laugh and squeezes me closer, settling us on our sides, face to face.

  "It’s just a few months, baby. Not even a year. Think of all the peace you’ll have, to study without me groping you all the time.” That pulls another small smile from me as he continues to speak quietly. “And by the time you’re done with school, I’ll be settled, I’ll have a place for us to live. You can look for a job, if that’s what you really want.”

  God, I love this man. I love how strong he’s being right now while I’m falling apart. “You know we’ll be able to talk every day, and you can come up and see me whenever you want.”

  Rolling me to my back again, he props himself over me on his elbows. As his lips pepper mine with kisses, he keeps talking. “Just say the word and I’ll take you with me. We’ll find you classes at another school. I’ll do whatever makes you happy.”

  As tempting as that sounds right now, we both know it won’t happen. I’ll be here in school and he’ll be in Seattle, playing football and living the high life. Traveling and parties, with groupies and more money than he’ll know what to do with. Just thinking of it fills me with dread.

  He must sense the rising panic because before I know what’s happening, his kisses become more forceful, like he’s trying to brand his promises right there on my lips. Once he feels me melt into him, he gently pulls away, so he can stare into my eyes again.

  “I swear to you, I don't want to leave you, but this is a good thing for us in the long run. We’ll have everything we’ve ever wanted. Together. I’m going pro, baby.”

  This is what makes me feel like the biggest bitch ever. This is his dream and I know I’m acting like a brat, but I can’t help it. I hate how happy he sounds. Why can’t I at least try to act like I’m ok? I know he’s right. I’ve known this was his dream from the day I met him almost a year ago. He’d told me that first night, the night I’d gotten up on stage with my drunk friends and sang a song I can't even remember the name of now.

  When I’d looked out through the lights at the crowd, and saw Keir looking right back at me.

  One drink turned into two that night, and that turned into a first date a week later. I might have only just turned twenty and had little experience with men, but I knew enough to know that he was special. That we had that something special.

  Even though he’d been honest and told me that if everything went as planned, he wouldn’t be here for long, it still didn’t stop me from falling head over heels in love with him. So now, here we are. Me, with a year of school left, and him being a draft pick for an NFL team, two thousand miles away.

  Laying here in his bed with him, watching the shadows crawl over the walls as the sun sets, it’s easy to believe him when he says we would be ok. When he whispers words of love and promises of a future with me, I could almost silence the voice telling me this was goodbye.

  With my head cradled in his safe hands, I let him kiss some of my fears away. I let him brush more of them aside with each sweep of his hands over my body. Every inch of my skin he loves helps his words take root. And as he finally sinks inside me, I let those fears go.

  What a fool I was.

  Poppy

  Present

  “Oh my. This place looks spectacular,” my best friend murmurs quietly from beside me, her eyes wide as she gazes around the huge room we just entered. She’s right. The usually bland hotel conference room has been transformed into something quite stunning. The bare walls have been draped in shimmering fabric with twinkling lights throughout. There are three separate bar areas placed around the huge space, and various stations set up with blackjack and roulette tables. The dining tables are dressed with black and gold covers, and the tall table displays are draped in long strings of shiny black beads.

  The room screams opulence.

 
“It sure does. I’m glad you forced me to wear this dress now,” I say, running a hand down the full skirt of my black dress. I wasn’t sure if the long-sleeved lace dress would be too formal. The full tutu-style skirt hits mid-calf and makes it a little more fun than a full evening gown. Elliott, my best friend, had arrived at my door with it a few hours ago, and practically forced me into it.

  “Poppy!”

  Turning at the sound of my name being called, I see one of my clients, Kate, dragging her husband, Billy, over to us. “Thank you so much for coming,” she says, pulling me in for a brief hug and kiss to my cheek.

  “Thank you for the invite,” I reply, giving her a small squeeze back.

  “Of course. We can’t thank you enough for all of your help. An invite is the least we can do,” Billy says, as he takes his turn giving me a hug.

  Kate and I met in college, and when she and Billy later decided to set up their own business after graduation, they had asked me to do their websites. When they needed help creating one for their new children’s charity, I’d offered my services for free.

  “It was nothing.” I can't help the blush that heats my cheeks, and I have to fight the urge to shy away from the compliment.

  “Billy and I have to go greet some more people, but please, get yourselves a drink and take a look at the silent auction items. We’ve had some amazing donations,” Kate says before they turn and head in the direction of the streams of people coming in.

  “There is some serious talent here tonight.” Elliott looks around in awe, and she’s not wrong. It’s like a beautiful people convention. Her eyes stop on a group of guys standing around the bar. “Holy shit. I’d climb him like a tree,” she whispers loudly, leering at a lumberjack-in-a-tux type.

  “I can’t take you anywhere,” I say, looking around to make sure no one else heard her.

  “I said he was hot. I didn’t lick him, for crying out loud. Although...” She trails off, and I shake my head. She’s so full of it.

  "You do know you’re married, right?" I reply, making us both laugh. Elliott has been married to her college sweetheart for years.

  “Married. Not dead, Pop. Come on. There’s a couple of wine glasses over there with our names on them.” She drags me toward the bar as fast as my heels will allow.

  Taking a large gulp of my wine, I try to will myself into relaxing some. This is the first time I’ve been out anywhere, other than a few restaurants, since I’ve been back in Savannah. When I’d finished college ten years ago, I’d taken my degree and my broken heart, and accepted the first job offer that would get me far, far away from here.

  I didn’t care that I’d been running away. There was no way I would have been able to stay here. The looks from the other students on campus, along with the whispers and snide commentary that followed me everywhere, were dragging me down. I was that girl. The one that everyone had been waiting to see fall, and they had loved every second of my misery when it had happened. If I hadn’t moved away, I would have drowned under the weight of their scrutiny.

  Despite all that, I still missed living here. I’d grown up a few hours outside of Savannah and after spending summers here with my grandparents, I’d fallen in love with the city. Although I’d gotten offers from colleges all over the U.S., I decided to stay here. The mix of history, and that certain magical vibe only Savannah has, had gotten under my skin. No matter where I lived after college, nowhere was like Savannah, Georgia.

  That didn't mean I hadn’t tried to make a life elsewhere. I had friends in cities from one side of the U.S. to the other. I’d made real friendships and even tried out a relationship a time or two. No matter what, I still felt a void that I’d tried to fill by working crazy long hours.

  When that didn't work, I’d even gotten a dog from a rescue center, thinking he would be a reason to come home from the office before nine p.m. every night. No matter what I did, I always felt like I was missing out on something. When I’d started up my own web design business, I’d realized I could do that from anywhere. So, I’d pulled my head out of my ass, taken a chance, and moved back here.

  “Some of these prizes are insane,” Elliott says, as we meander along the tables that stretch the whole back wall of the massive room, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “A weekend in Vegas, flights on a private jet.” She stops in front of another display for a weekend in Maui, letting out a low whistle from between her teeth. “I’m bidding on this. If I win, you can watch the kids for us.” She smirks at me.

  “Judging by these bids, there is no chance of that happening,” I scoff, noticing some of the items are already up to tens of thousands of dollars.

  “You have to be in it to win, doll.” She writes down a bid I know will make her husband, Pete, cry if she actually wins.

  Continuing down the line, I pass more trips, and glass cases full of signed baseballs, jerseys, and cleats. There are a few footballs and a helmet I pass without even glancing at.

  I’m not a football fan.

  As it’s a charity night, I try to find something I can bid on without breaking the bank. I find a few items I’d like to try. There’s a wine-tasting day that sounds fun, as well as a year membership at the fancy new gym that opened up recently. There’s also a signed photo of the latest movie star that every woman I know is half in love with, so I leave a few bids.

  By the time we’ve made it around all the auction items, dinner is about to be served. Once we finally find our table, most of the seats are filled. An elderly couple is seated opposite me with a middle-aged man next to them. The two seats between he and I are empty, and I assume his date will be filling it shortly.

  After polite nods to our table companions, we settle into our seats as the waiters bring around the wine and Elliott strikes up a conversation with the lady next to her. This is why I bring her to any function that requires interaction with other people. I suck at small talk, but she could make it an Olympic event. Barely a minute later, she’s already got her phone out, showing off pictures of her kids.

  Letting my eyes wander around the room, I see Kate make her way up to the stage. She stops and gives Billy a kiss on the cheek and he gives her belly a small rub before she continues on her way. I guess I’ll be getting another baby announcement in my emails soon then. I can't deny the small pang of envy I feel. I never thought I’d be approaching thirty, single and childless.

  Keeping up my people-watching, I see a guy walking in the direction of our table. He’s tall and classically good-looking, his body filling out his tuxedo very nicely. Slicked back dirty blond hair and a cocky smile plays on his lips. I catch his eye and he gives me a wide smile as he makes his way over.

  Placing his hands on the back of the chair next to me, he leans in and asks, “Is this seat taken?”

  His voice is softer than I expected. It somehow doesn’t quite fit with the face it’s coming out of.

  “Oh, I’m not sure. We just sat here,” I reply with a smile, trying to be friendly. He quickly glances around the table with a raised eyebrow. The gentleman sitting alone gives a quick head shake before returning to his conversation with someone at the next table. After getting the all-clear, he pulls out his chair and subtly moves it closer to me as he sits.

  I clear my throat, trying to get Elliott’s attention, then offer him a small smile before turning away from him slightly. I can't put my finger on why, but this guy makes me feel uncomfortable. There’s a lecherous gleam in his eyes; the way he’s looking at me makes my skin crawl. He leans in again, obviously not one for social cues. Holding out his hand for me to take, he speaks again.

  “Darren, pleased to meet you…?” He trails off, waiting for me to provide my name.

  Feigning politeness, I quickly shake his cold fingers before pulling my hand away. “Nice to meet you, my name is—"

  “Her name is Poppy, and you’re in my seat.”

  The deep voice rumbles over my shoulder, making my heart stutter in my chest. I’m frozen in place, too scared
to move. If I turn around and see him, it’s real.

  The guy who broke my heart ten years ago will really be standing behind me.

  The sounds of the room fade to nothing; all I can hear is my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. I don’t notice him move, but Darren must leave the table because the next thing I know, he is next to me. Standing so close, I could easily touch him. My gaze moves from the table in front of me to his broad chest, then to the wonderfully wide shoulders that look even more impressive than they used to be. They continue up the column of a beautiful, tanned throat and pass full lips on a face that’s about a week past needing a shave. Finally, they stop on chocolate brown eyes that I once knew better than I knew my own.

  Keir Harmon.

  Keir

  Past

  “Here ya go, sugar.”

  Making sure to lean in nice and low, so I can get a good look at what she’s offering—exactly the same move she’s pulled the last four times she’s gotten me a drink—the bartender places a shot on the sticky bar in front of me. Or is it two shots? I’m past the point of knowing whether or not I’m seeing double. Hoping for the best, I pick up the glass that's moving the least. Who fucking cares anymore?

  Not me.

  The loud music of the bar thumps through the room, the bass vibrating through my feet. The images that were seared into my brain a few short hours ago throb in and out of my consciousness, in time with the shitty dance track playing. This place is a dive. It suits my mood perfectly.

  Lifting the small glass up to my lips, I shoot it straight back, hoping I’ll soon be too numb to feel any more of the gutting pain I’ve been in for the last few hours.

  The meaty hand that clamps down on my shoulder causes me to wobble on the bar stool. Luckily, I’m grabbed before I can hit the floor.

  “I’m not in the mood for babysitting tonight, man, give it a rest.” My roommate, Kyle, yanks the glass out of my hand and pushes it back to the bartender who has been hovering around me for the last hour.

  “Fuck off.”