Most Likely to Score

A message from Kevin greets me. I click it open, and it’s the usual from him—an interview request. Can Cooper come on my Sunday preview show?

I’m about to reply that I’ll check with the quarterback, when I see his postscript.

P.S. See you at Sierra’s wedding this Thursday! Be sure to say hello to Shelly and me! We can toast to Sierra together!

I groan loudly. I forgot he’d be attending the wedding.

I might be over the guy, but this is precisely why he irritates me.

Because he thinks I’d want to say hello to him and the woman he cheated on me with.

“You sure know how to pick ’em, girl,” I mutter.

My spine straightens. Wait. Just because Kevin is a dickhead doesn’t mean I have bad taste in men.

Of course not. Jones is nothing like Kevin.

My taste is not an issue.

But perhaps my judgment is. I did fall for a man I can’t have.

Maybe I don’t know how to pick them at all.

23

Jones

Cletus leaps through the air, chasing a Frisbee, landing like the agile dude he is with the disc in his mouth. The camera zooms in on me and I give my 100 percent honest assessment. “That’s why I won’t feed my little guy anything but the best.” Next shot, Cletus retrieves a ball as I finish my ode to the dog food. “When your dog is worth the very best, that’s when you give him Paleo Pet.”

Ford points the remote at the TV and hits stop theatrically. “Bam. That is a dog food commercial if I’ve ever seen one. And look at Cletus. He loves watching it.”

My agent gestures to my pooch, who I brought to Ford’s office the day after the game for the “premiere” of the television spot. Wagging his tiny tail, Cletus stretches out in a downward dog.

He’s also showing off for Jillian, pawing at her legs, but she seems distracted. She’s still staring at the screen even though the TV is off.

Cletus whimpers, and that gets her attention. She reaches down, scoops him into her lap, and strokes his soft brown and white fur.

“What can I say? He’s a ladies’ man?” I wink.

Trevor eyes me. “Something you’re not anymore.”

“Oh yeah.” Ford stretches across the desk and high-fives my brother before turning his attention to Jillian. “Liam gave the okay to tease this on social media before it runs on Lifetime in a few days,” he says. “Can you handle?”

Jillian nods crisply, back to her usual sharp-as-a-tack demeanor. “Absolutely. I have a plan for how to magnify this online.”

“Excellent. Liam is thrilled with how it’s all coming along,” Trevor chimes in, since he’s been handling a lot of the details with my sponsor.

“We all are. And don’t you forget, you have a dinner with him later this week,” Ford says, pointing at me.

“Dude. I know. You put it on my calendar.”

“My job is to remind you, too. We’ll all be there. And soon, we’ll be having a dinner with the quick-serve restaurant because that deal is coming together with Organic Eats.”

Trevor pumps a fist. “Great work, man.”

We make our way out of the office. In the elevator, it’s the four of us as Ford rides down. Jillian is quiet again, a faraway look in her eyes. I wish I could take her hand, haul her next to me, and ask her what’s bothering her.

I wish I could talk to her the way I want.

Like she’s mine.

I wish I could stop being so damn dishonest in front of these guys who I like and respect. In front of my brother, in front of my agent. I want to tell them the truth—that the woman standing across from me makes me want to say goodbye to the former ladies’ man forever.

More than that, as she heads to her car, before she speeds off to the office, I want to drop a kiss on her cheek and tell her to drive safely. But I can’t.

I head home with my dog, and after a long run, I crash on the sofa. He jumps on my lap and curls into a ball.

“What is wrong with me? It was just sex, right?”

Cletus lifts his snout, as if to say, “Keep going.”

“You know what I mean. I’ve seen you hump the stuffed monkey from T.J. Maxx. Don’t deny it.”

Cletus waits for me to say more.

“You go crazy for that monkey. You guys are definitely having a no-strings-attached deal.”

He doesn’t say anything, but we both know he’s a horndog. Except, as he rubs his little head against my arm, I don’t think I’ve fooled him. I definitely haven’t fooled myself. I know it wasn’t just sex with Jillian. I miss her, and texting her last night wasn’t enough. Texting her only made me want to see her again.

I pick up my phone to call my brother, to finally ask him how I can sort this out. But there’s a message from Jillian glaring at me. It’s not a text. It’s from her work email.

I have a reporter wanting to talk to you about your new deals. It would be a good idea if we could prep. Would you have any time to meet with me today? My office?

Hell, yeah, I’d like to go to her office.

We take care of the phone interview quickly, handling it with ease, chatting with a prominent business reporter at a national magazine about my new partnership.

When we hang up, Jillian flips a pen around from her thumb to her forefinger, over and over. Her usual vibrancy is still missing. Raising my chin, I say what I wanted to say earlier this morning. “You don’t seem like yourself today. You seemed distracted at Ford’s office, and here, too. Is everything okay?”

Surprise flickers across her eyes. “I didn’t think I was that easy to read.”

I offer a small shrug. “Maybe you’re not. But maybe I’ve learned how to read you.” Her lips curve in a small smile. “I’ve seen you when you’re much more animated. Kind of funny, because I know how guarded you can be, too. But you didn’t seem guarded this morning. You seemed distracted, like something was bugging you. I hate the thought that something has thrown you.”

“It’s stupid,” she answers quickly, as if she’s trying to dismiss what’s on her mind.

“Stupid or not, do you want to talk about it?”

She drops her pen on her desk. “My ex never noticed if I was distracted. He never asked if I wanted to talk about bad days. Why do you have to be so sweet?”

“Would you prefer me sour?”

“I would prefer we weren’t so clearly ice cream and hot pepper that tastes surprisingly good.”

I laugh. “I’d like to try that combo.”

“Me, too,” she says with a heavy sigh. Once she blows out all the air in the world, she squares her shoulders and speaks in a rush. “Kevin’s going to Sierra’s wedding this Thursday, and he emailed me asking me to come say hi to him and Shelly, the skank he cheated on me with, and honestly, it made me wonder if I’m just kind of . . .” She slows down, the last words coming out dejectedly, “Bad at relationships.”

I furrow my brow. “How does that make you bad at relationships?”

She shrugs sadly. “I don’t know. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

I hate that she’s down on herself, especially because of that guy. “Kevin is a dickhead douche ass-wipe who doesn’t like room service and thinks he can still be your buddy. That doesn’t make you bad at anything.”

“Except judging character?”

I stare pointedly at her. “His mistake. His fuckup. Not yours. Don’t let him get you down.”