Chapters (48)
- Cover
- PRAISE FOR ALEXA MARTIN’S PLAYBOOK SERIES
- Titles by Alexa Martin
- Dedication
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- 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
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Okay, if you’re sure! We’re going to fill up our cars with these bad boys and then stuff them in Poppy’s living room.” She uses her head to nod in Paisley’s direction and I see that she’s also holding balloons. “TK hates balloons for some reason, but Posie’s obsessed with them. She’s going to be so excited and TK can’t say no to her. It’s going to be epic. You sure you don’t want to join?”
Not to sound like a total fucking creep, but hell yes I want to go to TK Moore’s house! He was my favorite Mustangs player ever. He did these ridiculous dances and just always seemed like he was having the best time. I get why he retired, but I’m still kinda bummed I don’t get to watch him on the field anymore.
I don’t say any of this because I don’t want to get booted from the cool kids table. But also because I’m ninety percent sure that I’m not just drunk, but I’m druuunnnnk. And as such, I need to take my drunk ass home.
“As much fun as that sounds, and it really is the best invite I’ve had in months, I think I’m going to have to skip this balloon bombardment.”
“Oooh!” Brynn opens her arms and lets the balloons fall to the ground. “Balloon bombardment! That’s a good one, I’m writing that down.”
“For what?” The fear of whatever diabolical plan Brynn is cooking up is clear in Paisley’s voice.
“Not sure, but I do love a themed party.” Brynn starts to gather the loose balloons before she sees Donny sipping another cocktail. “Donny! Either make yourself useful and help us mess with TK or you’re paying for that bottle.”
He puts down his glass without hesitating. “Where do you want the balloons?”
“Hey.” Quinton pulls my attention from the train wreck in front of me. “I’m about to head out and Donny told me where you live, it’s on my way. Let me give you a ride.”
“Oh. No, that’s not necessary.” “No” is my automatic response to anyone offering to do anything for me ever. “I’ll be fine.”
“Of course you’ll be fine,” he says. “Just let me? Please. You did such a great job with this and I know I wasn’t the easiest person to work with. A ride is the least I could do.”
I actually am not a fan of Uber. I mean, I feel like climbing in a car with a total stranger and giving them directions to my house is the first thing I was taught not to do. A ride with Quinton wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Well . . . maybe.