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Chapters (48)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR ALEXA MARTIN’S PLAYBOOK SERIES
  3. Titles by Alexa Martin
  4. Dedication
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. Prologue
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-one
  28. Twenty-two
  29. Twenty-three
  30. Twenty-four
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. Thirty-four
  41. Thirty-five
  42. Thirty-six
  43. Thirty-seven
  44. Thirty-eight
  45. Epilogue
  46. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  47. About the Author
  48. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Yeah, obviously.” Greer is nodding along, but it’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look she’s sporting that she has no idea what’s happening. And considering I’m making all of this up as I go, that’s understandable. “So what exactly are we calling to ask for?”

“Help. That’s how change is going to happen.”

“I just got goose bumps.” Vonnie shows me her arms, which are, in fact, covered in goose bumps. “That’s amazing.”

“It is,” Brynn chimes in, and for once her tone is all business. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her talk like this. “But we can do more. Why stop at the Mustangs? We all have friends on other teams. The guys all have friends playing on other teams. Hurry up and write the email. I’m going to call Maxwell, he’ll get email addresses from all the guys, and then have them spread the message around the league.”

“Wow.” I breathe the word out, in awe of how these women not only support me, but make me better. Even if Quinton doesn’t ever talk to me again, at least I’ll be able to give him this. So I start typing and I don’t stop until it’s perfect, hoping the entire time I do, that this will work. And Quinton can finally see how much he means to everyone.

How much he means to me.

Thirty-eight

If I got more than an hour of sleep last night, it was only by a few minutes.

Vonnie took Poppy home right before midnight. Brynn and Greer stayed until the wee hours of the morning. Liv and Marie, proving once again just how much they love me, camped out with me as we worked through the night.

The whole night, all I could think of was Quinton and how betrayed he must’ve felt not only that I was working with Glenn Chandler, but that I was always so quick to dismiss his feelings about Mahler. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive me for that—for how small I must’ve made him feel—but I hope that today will at least prove that I heard him and that I think his voice matters.

“Miss Elle.” Jax tugs my sleeve and pulls my attention from the crowds starting to surround us as we make our way to the family and players’ parking lot. I’m never sure if I feel like an old lady, a kindergarten teacher, or both when he calls me that, but he’s cute enough that I don’t think about it for too long. “Are you okay? You look kinda sleepy.”

Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, in the entire world will tell you that you look like shit quicker than a child. I wish I could appreciate their honesty, but I’d much rather hang out with adults who know how to lie.