The Virgin Game Plan

by Lauren Blakely

  “Let me take another shot of you,” he says.

  “Is this for your moody picture collection on Insta?”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “As always, it’s for me. Me and my lonely nights on the road without you.”

  He takes the pic then tucks the phone into his pocket and wraps an arm around me as we walk away.

  “Do you really look at the pictures of me when you’re out of town?” I ask.

  “Hell yeah.”

  “Weirdo,” I tease.

  “I know. It’s so strange to check out pictures of the woman I live with.”

  I arch a brow, slowing my pace. “Live with?”

  He flashes a winning grin. “Power of positive thinking. I was thinking how nice it would be if you lived with me.”

  My heart dances a happy jig. “Live with the new face of the Katt phone, with all its fantastic selfie improvements?” Teasing him about the sponsorship gig that Josh nabbed for him never gets old.

  A partnership with a cell phone maker to tout its camera is perfect for Holden. But the company also hired him for how he plays the game of baseball—like a leader.

  When he landed the deal, he told me, “They were impressed that I broke up the fight with the Storm Chasers, rather than started it.”

  I love that he scored a sponsorship for his character. For a part of him that’s true and real and one of the many reasons I love him.

  I went to his photo shoot last week on Marshall’s Beach by the Pacific, with a stunning view of the Golden Gate Bridge. That was a blast, seeing my guy in action off the field. Plus, it was fun because Asher was hired by the phone company to shoot the pics of him, and I got to catch up with the soccer player turned photographer at the end of the session.

  “Reese, what do I have to do to convince you that soccer is the best sport?” he’d asked with a glint in his hazel eyes.

  I tapped my chin, pretending to consider. “Well, tickets to your former team’s game next time I’m on the continent,” I teased.

  “Consider it done,” he said.

  The funny thing is I barely know Asher, but I have a feeling he would get me tickets. He’s one of those guys who charms anyone, remembers everyone’s name, and captivates a room when he enters. I was almost tempted to try to set him up with Grant, but something tells me Asher doesn’t need anyone playing matchmaker in his life. I suspect he’s doing just fine on his own. Plus, I’m pretty sure Grant’s heart is still caught in the past.

  As for my heart, it’s most decidedly loving the present. And living with my guy? That sounds damn good to me.

  “I’d say living with you sounds like a lot more fun than having one drawer,” I pout.

  “Hey now,” he protests. “You have two.” Then he kisses me, smiling against my lips. “But sharing everything sounds better.”

  It absolutely does.

  Later that month, Holden goes with me to a silent auction charity event. It’s for an organization both Grant and I are involved in. I helped with some of the social media, and the event is glittery, held at a trendy art gallery with a terrific view of the bay. Pop music plays, and pretty pink drinks abound.

  At the end of the night, when the music shifts to a slow song, Holden and I dance. As I loop my arms around his neck, I glance at Grant, who’s in the corner of the gallery. He’s been distracted most of the night, checking his phone more than usual. That’s unlike him. I try to flash him a smile right when a dark-haired man with a trim beard walks in.

  A man I’d recognize anywhere.

  My breath catches, and I whisper to Holden, “Declan’s here.”

  Wait. Shoot. Was I not supposed to say that out loud?

  But it’s hard not to react.

  Declan only has eyes for Grant. They laser in on my friend, and in their shared gaze I see so much longing. So much passion. Or maybe I’m just hoping that’s there since my heart still wants my best friend to find his way back to that man.

  Holden shifts on the dance floor so I catch sight of the two tall, broad, strapping ballplayers who were once upon a time tangled up together.

  Epilogue

  Grant

  * * *

  No fucking way.

  He’s the last person I expected to see here tonight.

  Or anywhere for that matter.

  I go completely still. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. My mouth is dry as I take in the man mere feet away—the guy who was once mine.

  He looks at me with eyes that still seem to know me.

  Eyes that say he came here to find me.

  But why? And most of all, why now?

  I don’t know, but I want to know. I need to know.

  I let my body decide as my feet move, and I walk to Declan, just as he walks to me.

  I swallow roughly, stopping in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

  He’s quiet as his shoulders rise and fall, his lips part. Then he says, “I’ll tell you everything.”

  My one-time lover tips his forehead toward the door and, a moment later, I leave with him.

  I don’t look back.

  Another Epilogue

  Reese

  * * *

  I move into Holden’s place that summer, and the rest of the season rushes by in a blur of nights apart and nights together, of baseball games won and lost, of calendars finished and events planned, of podcasts and photos, of walks through the city, of text messages exchanged all day long, and of friends coming and going.

  We go to sports awards ceremonies together, including one with Jillian, where I not only meet her husband, but also his friends – including the football team’s running back-turned-receiver – Harlan. The man is outgoing and charming, with warm brown eyes, and I learn he’s single, and the father of an adorable little girl.

  “What a pleasure to finally meet you, Reese. Jillian has been raving about you since she hired you.”

  I beam. “Thank you. That makes me very happy to hear.”

  “And we all want to keep Jillian happy. She’s the queen of San Francisco,” he says with a playful wink. “By the way, Jillian, did you get an invite to a certain wedding?”

  Jillian’s eyes pop. “I did. We must catch up on that sometime soon.”

  “And on that note, I have to go pick up the world’s cutest kid and read her a bedtime story,” Harlan says to Jillian, then turns to me. “And it was a delight meeting you.”

  When he leaves, Jillian and I chat about options for him, who we might want to set him up with. I suppose that happens when you fall in love. You want everyone else to fall too.

  Holden and I also spend time at the Spotted Zebra, where Chance denies he has a thing for Sierra.

  And at the tea and coffee shop near our home, where Grant and I catch up on all the things.

  And before long, we’re at a new Japanese restaurant to celebrate with Crosby when he asks Nadia to marry him. As we raise our sake to toast the first of the guy friends to put a ring on it, my gaze travels around the table to the others, all of our friends.

  Who’ll be next?

  Tia and Wayne?

  Gunnar and someone?

  Grant’s sister?

  I nudge Grant. “What’s the over-under on Chance and Sierra?”

  He sneers at me. “Things that’ll never happen.”

  I shrug happily. “But really, you never know what might happen. After all, the past doesn’t always stay in the past.”

  Another Epilogue

  Holden

  * * *

  At Crosby’s wedding a few months later, Reese and I dance one more time. As I spin her around, I catch glimpses of our friends.

  Crosby and Nadia looking happier than any bride and groom.

  Nadia’s brother and his pregnant wife, sharing a slice of cake.

  Jillian and her husband shimmying in a corner of the dance floor.

  Chance smiling, looking happy.

  So many other ballplayers are here too – guys from the Cougars like Sulliva
n and Miguel, as well as some of the Dragons like Gunnar and Dante. Shane is here as well.

  I can’t help but wonder about everyone’s love story.

  Everything feels possible.

  The Final Epilogue

  Reese

  * * *

  Later

  * * *

  The invitation arrives as most do these days—via email.

  It’s from my alma mater, asking if I’d like to lead a roundtable discussion on media careers for college athletes post-university.

  Hell yes.

  I wave my phone at Holden over breakfast on a Saturday morning.

  “Check this out,” I say, showing him the letter.

  Reading it, he grins at me, pleased. “That is a damn fine idea for a roundtable, and you are an excellent choice to lead it. Also, you better get me a ticket.”

  I laugh. “Bet I can sneak you in for free, but I’m sure you’ll be playing.”

  He peers at the date. “I can make it. That’s an off day. I’m going to cheer you on. Question is, will there be any tables at this roundtable?”

  I shrug. “One of life’s many mysteries.”

  We rent a car and drive the two hours to our college, savoring the time away from the city and the view through the winding hills on the way to the university.

  Once there, we wander around campus together then head to the event.

  Holden grabs a seat in the second row, listening intently as I interview former college athletes who’ve moved on to other work after graduation. It’s a fascinating talk, illuminating all sorts of possibilities for life after sports.

  When we’re done, I chat with some of the attendees then leave with Holden.

  He takes my hand. “There was still no table.”

  “I noticed that. If they had asked me, I would have insisted on one.”

  “That’s my woman, rocking the establishment with her newfangled ideas.”

  We walk across the quad, passing students stretched out on the lawn, sitting against trees, tossing Frisbees. Holden gestures toward the history building. “Remember when we took a tour of my favorite places?”

  “Of course I do.” I squeeze his hand, threading my fingers more tightly through his. “And your favorite memories of school too.”

  He stops in front of the steps where we first kissed, going quiet for a beat. “There’s a favorite memory I didn’t tell you about.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  He swallows, his gaze locking with mine. “That day. Meeting you. I knew then that it would be a favorite memory.”

  I smile from deep inside my soul. “I knew then too. I think I always knew with you.”

  He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Want to know what else I knew?”

  “Sure.”

  He drops to one knee, and I gasp.

  Holding my hand in his, he gazes up at me. “I knew then that I’d want to be with you for the rest of my life. And since we’ve been together that has become clearer every single day.”

  My throat hitches, and I press my lips together, but holding back the tears is pointless. They’re already slip-sliding down my cheeks.

  “I fell hard for you, Reese. I waited for you. I hoped for you. And when you came back into my life, I couldn’t stay away.” He reaches into his pocket, taking out a velvet box. “You’re funny and caring and fierce and loyal, and I admire you so much. Who you are, what you believe in, who you believe in. And most of all, how you love—with your whole heart.”

  Yup. Full on waterfall now as I clasp his hand tighter. “You’re easy to love,” I whisper.

  “Good. Then will you let me keep on loving you for the rest of our lives?”

  “I will,” I say, kneeling too, and throwing my arms around him, smothering him in kisses.

  When I pull away, he slides a gorgeous diamond solitaire on my finger.

  “I love you so much,” I say through happy tears. “And this is my new favorite memory.”

  “And it’s mine too, Reese.”

  Then he kisses me, and we come full circle to the moment I knew he’d always been part of my game plan.

  And this moment, this ring, this promise will always be part of ours.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  What happened at the gallery with Grant when Declan showed up? You won’t believe the story behind that night! Trust me — you’ll be hooked as you devour all the delicious details of their secret romance starting in Scoring with Him. That emotional, angsty and sexy-as-sin romance kicks off Grant and Declan’s epic love story in the “Men of Summer” duet. Enjoy a teaser below! You won’t want to miss Chance’s romance with Grant’s sister Sierra comes in The Virgin Replay. Get ready for a some fake dating at a wedding on an island getaway trip!

  * * *

  Be sure to sign up for my mailing list to be the first to know when swoony, sexy new romances are available or on sale!

  * * *

  Declan

  * * *

  Those two words—same here.

  They echo in my skull, pushing me, prodding me.

  Tension lines my body, as want wars with my better judgment.

  I shouldn’t talk to him like this.

  Shouldn’t put my cards on the table.

  But Grant Blackwood is under my skin.

  He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met, and it’s not just his body, his face, or his eyes. It’s . . . him.

  Who he is. How he is.

  Maybe talking this out will eject the desire from my head. Maybe acknowledging the white-hot sparks between us is all we need to move the hell on.

  Put our lust through its paces. Laugh at it. Remind ourselves why giving in would be the worst idea ever.

  “But you’re my teammate,” I say, presenting it as a logical argument. “We work together, and this wouldn’t be some office fuck where we screw in the mailroom and go to separate floors. We share a locker room. We’ll share a team plane. We’ll share a field. TV networks carry the Cougars. Sponsors endorse us.”

  I grab another napkin, start shredding it.

  “That’s all true,” he says, taking his time with each word.

  “We have a manager. Fisher would not be happy if two of his guys were screwing. Not to mention, we have other teammates,” I say, my jaw clenching in between words. “Crosby, Chance, Sullivan.” I go around the horn and name the rest of the team to remind myself. Hell, maybe saying their names will free me from this lust as I rip this napkin to pieces. “They depend on us. All of them do.”

  I link the fingers on both my hands together and hold them up, demonstrating my point. “We are a bond—nine guys on a field. We can’t give in.” I implore him, my voice tight as I do everything to convince him.

  But it’s not Grant I’m trying to convince.

  It’s me.

  Because the way this man looks at me, with sex in his eyes, dirty deeds on his lips, makes it nearly impossible for me to resist.

  “I know we can’t, Deck.”

  That. Right there. His boy-next-door voice. That’s part of why I want him so much. I shake my head and laugh futilely. “Even that gets me going. The way you say my nickname.”

  A smile curves his lips. “Deck.” He’s all gravelly and raspy, enjoying knowing what it does to me, and it does the trick.

  “Mmm. Like I said . . .”

  Grant jerks his chair closer to the table, licks the corner of his lips, and murmurs, “The way you call me rookie . . .”

  My neck heats. My blood incinerates. “You like that?” I take a beat, lingering on his gorgeous face, the blue flames in his eyes flickering higher. “Rookie?”

  He shudders, nodding. “Yeah. Makes me hard.”

  “Fuuuuck.” I am broiling. “Do you get what I mean? Do you see the problem?”

  Find out in Scoring with Him available everywhere!

  * * *

  Nadia and Crosby’s romance is available everywhere in The Virgin Rule Book. More boo
ks to come with other athletes too! Harlan’s story is coming soon in The Boyfriend Playbook!

  And stay tuned for more details on Asher!

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