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  ALSO BY K.A. LINDE

  ASCENSION SERIES

  The Affiliate

  The Bound

  ADULT ROMANCE SERIES

  AVOIDING SERIES

  Avoiding Commitment

  Avoiding Responsibility

  Avoiding Intimacy

  Avoiding Decisions

  Avoiding Temptation

  RECORD SERIES

  Off the Record

  On the Record

  For the Record

  Struck from the Record

  ALL THAT GLITTERS SERIES

  Diamonds

  Gold

  Emeralds

  Platinum

  Silver

  TAKE ME SERIES

  Take Me for Granted

  Take Me with You

  STAND ALONE

  Following Me

  Copyright © 2016 by K.A. Linde

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.kalinde.com

  Cover Designer: Anna Crosswell, Cover Couture, www.bookcovercouture.com

  Photography: Lindee Robinson Photography, www.facebook.com/LindeeRobinsonPhotography

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1537622842

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  “THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.”

  Stacia Palmer tried not to roll her eyes. Her boyfriend, Marshall Matthews, had been repeating that over and over and over again for hours on end throughout the past two days. So, not only was today the best day of his life, but yesterday had been the best day of his life as well. And if he didn’t get drafted into the NFL today during the second round, then she was sure tomorrow, he was going to repeat ad nauseum that was the best day of his life, too.

  But today was not the best day of Stacia’s life.

  Yesterday hadn’t been either.

  It should have been.

  This was what she had worked three long years for. To some, her dream of becoming an NFL quarterback’s wife had seemed outlandish. Back at Las Vegas State, people had painted her as a slutty jersey chaser. She never denied any of the claims. It was exactly what she wanted. Or at least she had thought so.

  When did getting everything you’ve ever wanted become a bad thing?

  Everyone stilled around her as the Commissioner for the NFL stepped onto the stage to announce the next pick. Marshall tightly gripped her hand in his own and reached for his mother’s, who was seated on the other side of him. His father ceased his pacing and stared up at the screen, waiting to have his son called onstage. It had been a long couple of days for everyone. Waiting had never been more difficult.

  “With the fiftieth pick in the NFL draft, the Indianapolis Colts select…”

  Marshall squeezed tighter, crushing her pinkie finger. She winced and tried to pull away, but Marshall was a star college quarterback. She stood no chance.

  “Baison Truman, defensive end, Miami.”

  Cheers erupted a section down from them. Stacia swiveled in her chair, thankful that Marshall had finally released her. She saw a tall African American man in a blue striped suit and bow tie hug his daughter who couldn’t have been older than four years old before hauling her up onto his hip and walking through the door to the main stage.

  Marshall deflated next to her as another opportunity had passed by him. Not that he’d been in any talks with Indianapolis, but still, everyone had assured him that he would be drafted in the first round. Now, halfway through the second round, things were beginning to look dire.

  It didn’t help that LV State hadn’t made it to the playoffs this year. They hadn’t even won their bowl game. They might have if the coach had decided to play to back up Pace instead of Marshall, but Marshall had more experience even if he didn’t have Pace’s talent.

  She closed her eyes against the image of Baison Truman putting his Colts hat and jersey on his daughter.

  Why am I thinking about Pace? Pace Larson was nothing to her. He had made it blatantly clear time and time again that she was nothing to him either. That was how she had ended up here, at the draft with Marshall, instead of back in Vegas, finishing out her junior year with Pace as the starting quarterback her senior year.

  “Fuck, why am I even here? This is humiliating,” Marshall swore next to her.

  “It’ll work out,” Stacia said. She was trying to be encouraging but finding it increasingly difficult.

  She knew the amount of money he would make dropped significantly for every person who went ahead of him. This would make his career. And that should have mattered to her. Well, it always had. She’d thought she would marry a man drafted as a first pick and happily live off his money for the rest of her days. After all, that was what she knew. Her father had been an NFL quarterback and it all made sense for it to come full circle.

  She wasn’t like her two best friends—Bryna Turner and Trihn Hamilton. Bryna had been a gold digger for a bit there, but even then, she had always had higher aspirations. Now, she was on her way to becoming a movie director, like her father. Trihn had already started a successful clothing line that sold designer clothes to New York boutiques. They were both killing it!

  Stacia hadn’t ever wanted something more in her life. Until today.

  Now, she wanted something else.

  It stirred inside her.

  This strange feeling she had never, ever encountered before. It choked her. Ate at her from the inside out. Crawled over her skin and into her stomach.

  Guilt?

  Or maybe regret?

  Whatever it was, this moment wasn’t right.

  “Don’t talk to me like you know shit, Stacia. This is my career on the line,” he spat.

  He launched from his seat and started pacing by his father. His mother shot Stacia a sympathetic look and then joined them.

  Stacia sat, seething.

  She knew his motherfucking career was on the line. She knew what this meant to him. And, frankly, she did know shit.

  She wasn’t just some dumb cheerleader. She really knew and understood the ins and outs of football. Her father was the head coach of the football team for the University of Southern California where her younger brother, Derek, now played as the starting quarterback. She knew football.

  Stacia took a deep breath and tried to rein in her growing unease. Why was she having second thoughts? Did it have something to do with the fact that Marshall hadn’t been drafte
d yet? Was it because he wasn’t going in the first round, and that hadn’t been her dream?

  She didn’t think so. She was just realizing that claiming to want this life was one big lie.

  Stacia and Marshall hadn’t spent much time together since he had decided to enter the draft. As soon as he’d announced it, he’d gotten a sports agent, a slimy guy by the name of Jude Rose. Her best friend Bryna had dated Jude her senior year of high school and found out the hard way that he was married. The fact that Marshall had chosen Jude anyway, despite Stacia informing him how much of a prick he was, hadn’t helped anything.

  Afterward, Marshall had started training. He’d worked his ass off in every facility he could get into. Then, he’d gone to the Scouting Combine in Indianapolis, which Stacia had known was the real deal. How he performed in front of scouts there would make or break his draft stock.

  Now that they were sitting here, she was realizing that nothing he had done those last few months mattered. He was one-tenth of a second slower than average in the forty-yard dash for a quarterback, and that was holding him back now. One-tenth of a second, and he could have been a first-round pick.

  “Why the long face?”

  Stacia startled and looked up to find none other than Jude Rose himself standing in front of her. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t been paying attention to anything. “What?”

  He smirked down at her in that insufferably sexy way of his. She wanted to smack that shit right off his face. Not only had he hurt Bryna, but Stacia had known enough sports agents to know that they were awful people. That smile wouldn’t work on her.

  “Your boyfriend is about to be worth millions. I would think you’d have a smile on your face for the cameras, sweetheart,” Jude said.

  Stacia plastered on a fake smile that she’d used all her life and hopped to her feet. Not that it did much. She was only about five feet tall, and Jude towered over her, like all the players in attendance, but she didn’t care. “When?” she demanded. “When is he going to be drafted? You promised him the first round. I thought you were the best. Seems like nothing anyone has said about you is true, except that you’re a liar.”

  Jude’s smile didn’t move for a second. But his eyes hardened. “A liar? That’s a bold statement.”

  “A true statement.”

  He looked ready to defend himself—or maybe not; maybe he was just an arrogant ass—but he was kept from it when Marshall barreled toward him.

  “Rose, what’s going on?” Marshall asked.

  They clasped hands and then released.

  “I was just talking to your wonderful girlfriend. She’s a real gem.”

  “You know all about real gems,” she murmured under her breath. Jude had been the one to turn Bryna into a gold digger after all. Though she didn’t think Jude knew the connection between her and Bryna.

  “Yeah, ignore Stacia. She’s in a mood,” Marshall said. Stacia opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off, “Draft stock. Where am I falling? What’s happening?”

  And then Jude dragged him away to have a more private conversation.

  Apparently, whatever he had to say couldn’t be said in front of her. Or, maybe because she was in a mood, he didn’t want her to hear.

  In. A. Mood.

  He’d said she was in a mood. Like PMS was making her irritated with this entire thing. And not every single little thing that Marshall did.

  Fuck, maybe she was in a mood.

  But not the one Marshall thought she was in.

  Everything had seemed crystal clear in the middle of the season last fall. Pace had slept with her best friend from high school, Madison, a freshman cheerleader at LV State. Marshall had gotten the starting spot as quarterback for the team, and then she and Marshall started dating.

  But her heart still broke over Pace. Three years of on-again and off-again behavior didn’t just disappear. Especially not when she still had to see his gloating face. Especially not when she wasn’t sure who she would have chosen if Pace hadn’t slept with Madison. But he hadn’t given her that choice.

  And the one she was making right now had nothing to do with him.

  It had everything to do with the fact that she just didn’t love Marshall.

  Stacia gasped, and a few people glanced her way. She quickly covered her mouth and looked away.

  Oh, fuck.

  She didn’t love him.

  Now that she’d thought the treacherous words, they seemed to multiply and magnify in her mind, like a disease spreading through her system.

  Every time he belittled her, it bugged the shit out of her. His obsession with ordering for her got on her very last nerve. Even the way he chewed gum annoyed her. Frankly, she hadn’t missed him while he was training all semester. She hadn’t wanted to answer his calls when he got time to talk to her. She hadn’t even wanted to come to the draft.

  She—Stacia, the jersey-chasing gold digger, whose life aspiration had been to marry an NFL quarterback—didn’t want it.

  It hit her with such clarity that she could walk out the door right at that moment, and she would have no regrets. She wouldn’t even glance back to see if Marshall had noticed.

  But she couldn’t do that to Marshall right now. It was, after all, the best day of his life.

  “Here it comes. Here it comes!” Jude said, pushing Marshall back into his seat.

  Stacia sank down next to him with a resigned sigh. Jude glared at her, and she remembered to plaster on her fake smile.

  She was happy.

  She was confident.

  She was beautiful.

  She could do this.

  The Commissioner reappeared onstage, and everyone tensed in anticipation once more. Every time he stood onstage, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

  “With the fifty-first pick in the NFL draft, the Buffalo Bills select…”

  Marshall squeezed her hand again, and she breathed out to ignore the pain.

  “Marshall Matthews, quarterback, Las Vegas State.”

  CHEERS ERUPTED ALL AROUND HER. Everyone sprang to their feet. Marshall straightened his suit, and for a second, he looked like he was going to cry. Then, he turned and scooped Stacia up in his arms. She clung to his suit for balance, and then he kissed her full on the mouth.

  This was the moment. This was his defining greatness. The road he had been on his entire life had culminated into the here and now.

  She was excited for him. Happy that he had been drafted. He deserved it even if LV State had suffered some tough losses with him as quarterback. But the strongest emotion was relief. Now, it was over.

  Marshall finally released her, hugged his mom and dad, shook Jude’s hand, and then walked away from them. Stacia watched him make that momentous walk through the back room to the door that led to the stage. Then, all eyes were fixed on the screen that showed Marshall taking a hat and jersey and smiling for the cameras.

  It was over practically before it’d started.

  The clock started over.

  Seven minutes.

  Then, another lucky player would be drafted, and attention would shift once more.

  Marshall was giving an interview to an ESPN reporter. The woman was pretty with dark hair and long eyelashes. Stacia recognized her as a sideline reporter during the football season. God, Stacia couldn’t imagine how amazing it would be to interview players, to watch and discuss football, to get paid to do what she loved. That girl had a dream job.

  Marshall was still talking to the reporter when Stacia and his family were ushered away from their seats and escorted to a waiting room for when Marshall was finished.

  The whole thing happened unbelievably fast. When Marshall returned to her side, he returned as an NFL quarterback. He let her know that he would have a few meetings to attend, and then the team was going to take him and his family out for dinner.

  “So, just head back to the hotel, and get all dressed up for me,” Marshall said when they finally had
a minute alone. “Go to the spa. Relax. Get your hair and makeup done. I want everyone to see that I have the hottest girlfriend here.”

  Stacia opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Marshall just kissed her.

  “Make sure you wear some of your sexy lingerie underneath,” he said suggestively against her mouth. “I want to celebrate.”

  “Marshall…” she breathed.

  Fuck. The last thing she was thinking about was celebrating.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

  And then he disappeared, leaving her alone with his parents, who frankly didn’t like her. They never said anything to her face, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see the accusation pointed her way. She gave them a tight-lipped smile before agreeing to take a cab back to the hotel with them.

  By the time she got back up to her and Marshall’s room, she was exhausted and irritated. She hadn’t wanted to be rude to his parents, so even though her phone had been vibrating more often than the fastest setting of her own toy back home, she hadn’t touched it to see who was messaging her.

  Now, she finally could.

  And she immediately wished she hadn’t.

  She had a bunch of messages from Bryna, Trihn, and their friend Maya, a few from her brother, a handful from her father, and one from Pace. She ignored all the others and opened his first.

  You looked hot as fuck on TV.

  God, has he been drinking?

  She didn’t know what other explanation there was for him to be messaging her. Unless he was just toying with her and being a dick, which were both his specialty.

  Because she was in a particularly shitty place at the moment, she texted him back.

  Thanks.

  It’s too bad.

  Stacia bit her lip. He was baiting her. She shouldn’t ask. That was what he wanted. But she couldn’t stop herself.

  What is?

  That you chose wrong, and you won’t be on TV for the #1 pick next year.

  Dick.

  Stacia fumed. Chose wrong? As if he’d let her choose. Then, out of anger, she jotted out another text.

  You couldn’t even make the starting position this year. You have to prove yourself on the field before you can make such outlandish claims.