by Tara Sivec
Quinn: Negative. Send me the link.
Emily: I’ll just copy and paste the best part of it.
Quinn: Okay, Grandma.
Emily: Oh, shut it.
Emily: “Tyler Deal, from the world-renowned Deal Agency, was recently spotted in Beverly Hills, folding shirts at a men’s boutique clothing store on Rodeo Drive. Looks like a new line of work for Deal, after his father—founder and owner of the Deal Agency—fired his son from the firm and cut him off financially, following all the drama that surrounded the agency after losing Quinn Bagley, as well as half of their client list. In related news, Ellen Westwood—the former director of the Vipers Cheerleading Organization who played her own part in the Deal/Bagley scandal—seems to be suffering from a similar fate as Deal. Westwood’s father, and owner of the Vipers, has also cut her off, and she’s been in hiding ever since. I’m sure we’ll see her flipping burgers at McDonald’s in no time!”
Quinn: Wow. WOW! When we go to California next month to get the last of my stuff out of the house before the new owners move in, we’re making a stop on Rodeo. I’m feeling the need for some new shirts, perfectly folded. Get naked. I’m coming home to celebrate.
EPILOGUE
Emily
“You could say it was a… first and tension.”
“Oh God, yes, Quinn! Don’t stop!”
I try to be quiet; I really do, but it’s impossible with Quinn’s mouth between my legs, humming in satisfaction when I shout his name, with his lips wrapped around my clit. The vibration of his voice and how perfectly he uses his tongue and fingers push me right into a screaming orgasm, just like Quinn dared me to let him do as soon as we walked into the locker room. It’s like there’s some sort of magical orgasm force field in here that just makes it impossible to say no.
With a long sigh as the last wave of my release washes through me, I finally let go of my tight grip on Quinn’s hair, and my leg slips off his shoulder when he stands back up in front of me, a big grin on his face. Quickly shimmying my body to pull the tight skirt of my dress back down my thighs, I grab the back of Quinn’s head, yanking him to my mouth to kiss the hell out of him, loving how tightly he immediately wraps his arms around me.
I want to do nothing but get lost in his kiss, and forget about everything around us, just like every time his lips are on mine. But we’ve got people waiting for us, and they’re going to start wondering where we are. It’s an absolute miracle this room was even empty when we walked in here, especially right now.
“Are you sure this dress is okay?” I ask for probably the tenth time as I pull back from Quinn to look down at myself, smoothing the skirt of my dress again and fiddling with the sleeves.
The cream, fitted dress with a deep-V neckline, three-quarter-length sleeves, and a pencil skirt that I paired with a black belt around my waist and black heels felt like the right choice to wear tonight, but now I’m second-guessing everything, and I don’t want to make Quinn look bad. We’ve been out in public plenty of times since the press conference, and fans have been nothing but supportive, but this is big. This is an exhibition at the stadium, so family and friends, press, and VIP fans can see all the hard work that’s been going on. All eyes will be on us, whether we’re on the field together or not.
Grabbing my hips, Quinn yanks me back against him, and my hands fly up to his chest.
“You look absolutely perfect. It’s gonna be a good night.”
My heart flutters as he reaches up and brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes, then leans down and kisses my forehead as he slowly rocks us back and forth. Just like the last time, the muffled sounds of music can be heard floating down through the tunnel, where the sound system at the stadium is currently blasting warm-up music.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this in the locker room.” I smile at Quinn, laughing in his arms as he slow dances us to “Turn Down for What.”
Grabbing one of my hands off his chest, Quinn spins me around until my back is to him, before wrapping his arms around me and tugging me back against him. Dipping his head down to press his cheek to mine, we both look around the expansive, carpeted room.
“Yeah, but this time it’s your locker room.”
A shaky breath comes out of me as I look around the Sharks cheerleaders’ locker room, which construction was just finished on a few days ago. With custom-made wooden lockers lining the walls, crisp and clean cheerleading uniforms hanging on each one, glossy photos of each cheerleader mounted on the walls above the lockers, a wall of makeup tables and lighted mirrors for each cheerleader across from the lockers, with a kitchen and a weight room attached, it’s every bit as perfect and fancy as the football players’ locker room, right across the tunnel from this one.
There’s no stopping the huge smile that takes over my face when my eyes land on my absolute favorite part of the locker room—two industrial, glass-door refrigerators standing side by side next to the door that leads out to the tunnel. One filled to the brim with bottled water, and the other filled with every flavor sports drink they make.
“You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you,” Quinn whispers as I sniffle and turn back around in his arms before I start crying all over again, like I did the first time I walked in here yesterday.
The last six weeks have been a complete whirlwind that started with me accepting the job offer when I walked into Jeanie’s office. Or should I say, when Quinn dragged me into the office, told Jeanie I was taking the job, then kissed me on the cheek, and walked out of the room.
Quinn dared me to have it all, and there’s no way I could say no to a dare like that.
And with how quickly everything happened afterward, I didn’t have time to worry about what everyone would think about me accepting the job as the new director of the Sharks Cheerleading Organization. Quinn supported me, and that’s all that mattered.
Ten hours after meeting with Jeanie and signing my contract with the Sharks, after a much-needed shower, nap, and multiple rounds of sex with Quinn, I came back to the stadium to meet with forty young women I hoped wouldn’t have a bad opinion of me after everything that had been in the media. But unbeknownst to Jeanie until right after that first lunch we had together at The Varsity Club, the Sharks’s cheerleaders had suffered similar treatment at the hands of their previous director and were more than welcoming to me when I took over, and I made sure they had everything they could possibly need to do the jobs they were hired to do.
And the absolute best part of my job is that Jeanie told me I was more than welcome to use the dance studio on Summersweet Island to hold practices, if it was more convenient for me. Not only is it more convenient for me, and that dance studio is the place I grew up training in that holds a lot of special memories for me, but the girls absolutely love the privacy and quaintness of the island and freak out every time I schedule a practice there, instead of the studio by the stadium. And since the Sharks pay for whatever facilities I use, as well as food and lodging for the girls if needed, it means more revenue coming to my hometown, and there’s definitely nothing wrong with that.
Not only haven’t I had time to worry about what people think, but Quinn makes absolutely sure I don’t care either by constantly reminding me how hard I worked for this and how much I deserve to have it all, just like he does. I have my dream man, and I have my dream job, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world.
“I love you. I can’t wait to see you kick ass out there tonight,” Quinn says, pushing away all my nerves.
The girls and I have spent the last six weeks working our asses off getting everything ready for today—one last showcase of all the dances they’ve performed over the last season, and two new ones I had them learn—until a few say goodbye and we get started with try-outs for next season in another month. Right after Palmer and Birdie’s wedding, Tess and Bodhi’s baby shower, and right when Quinn needs to leave for summer training camp for six weeks. It will be the perfect distraction to stop me from missing him… and a chance to perfect my
phone sex skills.
“I can’t believe you wore this shirt tonight. To your place of employment.” I shake my head at Quinn with a smile, my fingers tracing over the letters on his T-shirt Shepherd made for him as we continue to slow dance.
“It’s your place of employment now too. And a shirt that says Dibs on the Coach is just me marking my territory, so no one gets any funny ideas while you’re out there kicking ass on the sidelines, looking hot as hell in that dress.”
“Don’t forget, you have a meeting with your defensive coordinators tomorrow at nine, and then a call with your agent at eleven thirty,” I remind him.
After a lot of reassurances from Quinn that everything would be okay after he fired Tyler—and clearly with the position Tyler was in now, he was in no way equipped to make good on his threat to “end” Quinn—Shepherd introduced him to his own agent. The two men hit it off immediately, and Quinn signed with him soon after. Quinn also took some time to really explain the business side of his job to me and that all of the endorsement deals he had been cancelling to spend time with me really were not important things for his career, nor things he wanted nor needed to do. Quinn only endorses products he’s used and can 100 percent back. The things Tyler was booking for him were products and companies he had never even heard of or gave a shit about. He already has several very good endorsement deals, which include one of the top athletic clothing designers and one of the top sports drink manufacturers. Quinn is paid extremely well for everything he does; he doesn’t need the money from those other endorsement deals, and Tyler really was just being greedy, only thinking about himself and how much money Quinn could make him.
“Excuse me, Ms. Flanagan, but is this creepy gentleman bothering you?”
Quinn sighs under his breath, and I laugh as we pull apart.
“Very funny, Stanley,” Quinn grumbles with a smile on his face, shaking his head at one of the security guards for the stadium, who stands in the doorway with his own amused smile on his face.
“Sorry to bother you. I know you said you wanted some privacy until showtime,” Stanley explains, making me blush thinking about what Quinn just did to me, hoping Stanley doesn’t know that’s why Quinn told him to keep everyone out for a little bit. “It’s almost showtime, Coach, but there are a few very loud, very annoying people who’d like to say hi first.”
I have just enough time to internally squeal when Stanley calls me Coach until all hell breaks loose in the locker room.
“Did you see everyone looking at us walking into the tunnel with our VIP badges, like we’re the coolest people ever? I never feel like this when I win a golf tournament.”
“Because golf sucks, and you only win when I call you a dillsack. Oooh, a kitchen with snacks! Hands off the Cheetos; they’re mine!”
“Fucking finally! I almost lit the trash in that garbage can right outside the door on fire. Where’s the bathroom? I have to pee again.”
“I thought the cheerleading uniforms would be more sparkly. I should give them my card.”
“It smells like football cum in here.”
“What the hell does that even smell like?”
“A big ego and the burning stench of a melted brain from too many concussions.”
Quinn looks at me with pleading eyes, and I quickly bring my fingers up to my mouth and blow out an ear-piercing whistle.
“So fucking hot,” he mutters when all my friends finally shut up, and I answer all of them at once.
“Palmer, you’re definitely cool now, because you’re friends with the coach. Bodhi, you can have one bag of Cheetos but no chocolate. Tess, the bathroom is the door right next to the kitchen. Shepherd, the cheerleading uniforms are sparkly enough, but we can chat about the warm-up tracksuits. And Birdie, that’s not football cum you’re sensing; it’s cheerleading. Which smells like fun and shiny sparkles.”
“That’s my girl,” Tess says, giving me a high-five as she rushes past me to head to the bathroom.
“You ready to do this?” Wren asks, moving out from under Shepherd’s arm around her shoulders to walk up to me and give me a big hug.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, squeezing her back and trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.
“We’re so proud of you,” Wren says, pulling back. “Out there living your dream, doing big things, just like you were always destined to do.”
My eyes fill with tears, but I quickly blink them away as Quinn steps up behind me and rests his hands on my shoulders, giving me a gentle massage. My life is every bit as perfect as everyone else’s in this room, and I almost can’t believe it’s real. I get to be at home on Summersweet Island, comfortable and relaxed, and then put on fancy clothes and shine at fancy events whenever I leave. It’s all I’ve ever wanted out of life, and now I have it.
“I’m sorry I’m late! I had a –”
“Yeah, yeah, we all know you had a date,” Birdie says with a roll of her eyes, when one of my favorite people walks through the door and rushes across the room. “Is there any time you don’t have a date?”
“Is there any time you aren’t annoying?” Laura Bennett, Wren and Birdie’s mom fires back at her daughter with a smile, as she pulls me in for a hug.
This woman has been a stand-in mom for me ever since the first day she found out my parents didn’t have time to attend any of my games or competitions. Laura started showing up to everything, cheering louder for me than any other parent. She is the coolest fifty-four-year-old I have ever met, and she has always treated me like one of her own. She gives the best advice, the best hugs, and refuses to ever settle down. Hopping from one younger man to the next is just who she is, and we love her for it. Although we all secretly hope one of these days, an age-appropriate man will show up on the island and sweep her off her feet.
“I love you and I’m so proud of you,” Laura says as she gives me an extra squeeze. Pulling out of our hug and brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes to tuck it behind my ear, she smiles even bigger at me. “Your mom is here.”
Quinn puts his hands back on my shoulders as butterflies start flapping in my stomach, more nervous about this information than walking out onto that field in a few minutes in front of everyone to show them they made the right decision giving me this job. My mom finally started talking to me again after that first dinner with them and Quinn, but things have been awkward and a little cold ever since I told her I accepted this job. Although not with my dad. He has completely done a one-eighty, being very outspoken about how proud he is of me, calling me every day to ask how work was, and probably asking me ten times just in the last week alone what time he needed to be here tonight.
“I told you she’d come,” Quinn tells me, kissing the top of my head.
“She probably only came because you threatened her, and my dad finally got some balls, freaked out, and told her she had to,” I remind him, looking back over my shoulder at him with a smile.
“I didn’t threaten her. I just politely encouraged her to stop being upset you didn’t want to run Sandbar Cottages, that Stephanie is more than qualified and has absolutely thrived running the place since you left, and that she needs to show you some support, or they might find themselves missing out on Sharks season tickets.” Quinn smirks at me, making me want to kiss those dimples right off his cheeks.
With Tess emerging from the bathroom, and her and Birdie giving me big hugs and wishing me luck, Bodhi tipping back the bag of Cheetos to get all the crumbs, the many pockets of his cargo shorts looking a little full and like he absolutely stole candy from the kitchen, we all make our way out of the locker room and into the tunnel. Stanley leads the way, with my friends chattering and laughing behind him, and Quinn and I bring up the rear, my heels clicking on the cement, with his hand wrapped firmly in mine.
My friends all walk around my girls and wish them luck as they stand in a huddle at the mouth of the tunnel that leads out onto the field, and Stanley takes my friends through a side door that will take them up into
the stands. They all wave at me and blow me kisses one by one as they disappear through the door.
Quinn pulls me against him and gives me a toe-curling kiss that makes my girls all whistle and cheer for us, before pulling apart with big, goofy smiles on our faces.
“Just think, when we first met, there was a lot of tension. Now we’re both living the dream, madly in love.” Quinn smiles at me. “You could say it was a… first and tension.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I shake my head and laugh at him.
“And you love my ridiculousness.”
“It seems I do.”
With one more kiss to my forehead, Quinn takes a step back and turns me around to face the tunnel opening.
As I stand right behind my girls, they start bouncing up and down in their huddle, wearing the new special event uniforms I ordered for them, shouting, and cheering, and getting each other pumped up for the show.
“Enjoy every single second of this moment that you earned and worked your ass off for,” Quinn says, dropping his head behind me to speak close to my ear. “And if you can’t find me up in the stands, I’ll be the one holding up the big glittery sign Shepherd helped me make that says I love you, Emily! And little Chocolate Torte Bagley too!”
Quinn quickly moves away from me with a laugh before my elbow can jerk back and connect with his stomach. With a wink, he gives me a last soft press of his lips before he starts to back away.
“Go out there and shine, baby.” Quinn smiles, making my heart skip a beat as he turns, then walks around the girls and disappears through the same door my friends did.
“The moment you’ve all been waiting for! Everyone, get on your feet!”
The roar of the crowd is deafening when the announcer speaks through the microphone, and just knowing everyone I love is out in the stands, ready to cheer me on and support my dreams means more to me than anything in the world. I won’t be out there on the fifty-yard line this time, but I’m perfectly happy kicking ass from the sidelines now.
