Scored

by Sloane Howell

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

  A Loveswept Ebook Original

  Copyright © 2017 by Sloane Howell

  Excerpt from Ready to Run by Lauren Layne copyright © 2017 by Lauren LeDonne

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Ebook ISBN 9780399179129

  Cover design: Diane Luger

  Cover photograph: Sanneberg/Shutterstock

  randomhousebooks.com

  v4.1

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  By Sloane Howell

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Ready to Run

  Prologue

  “Whatever it is, that girl put a spell on me.”

  —The Jimi Hendrix Experience

  Matt Stallworth

  There was something about Kelsey Martin.

  It was true. God knows I couldn’t explain it.

  The first time I saw her open the door at Jenny’s father’s house—her poor attempt at a glare, her honey-colored eyes, the hand on her hip—she was an awakening.

  Never before had my heart beat like that for a woman. I played it off and walked by, denying her any satisfaction of knowing what she did to me. Pursuing her was a bad idea, due to a number of circumstances.

  The feelings ceased to subside.

  The second time I saw her, she sat next to Ethan and Jenny at one of my games. I hadn’t even noticed them until I walked to the plate. I’d never forget her eyes on me, sitting there amidst a sea of fans clad in Rangers shirts and hats, and Kelsey with her hair pulled up in a messy bun, sporting a Jimi Hendrix V-neck tee. It turned my brain into a purple haze, and I had to step out of the batter’s box to focus.

  I went four for four that game, determined not to look like a chump in front of a girl I’d barely even talked to.

  After the game I met up with the three of them and got to know Kelsey a little better, even with a little light flirting thrown in. She hadn’t been impressed by my performance on the field. And that impressed me.

  Over the past few months I’ve seen Kelsey seven times, received fourteen smiles, four comments containing sexual innuendo, and two fist bumps.

  After all of that, one thing has remained clear—athletes are not Kelsey’s type.

  I plan to change that.

  Chapter 1

  “Go on take the money and run.”

  —Steve Miller Band

  Matt Stallworth

  Her face was like a New York, Times Square advertisement.

  Kelsey.

  Everywhere, Kelsey.

  She’d taken over my mind.

  Every time I’d seen her we exchanged flirtatious glances and conversations laden with innuendo. Perhaps my brain turned every word she said into something dirty. It tended to do that.

  Get your head in the fucking game, Stallworth.

  I snapped from one of many Kelsey daydreams as Ethan greeted me at the front door of Mason and Associates. He glanced around to make sure nobody could hear him.

  “What’s up, bitch?”

  “What a way to treat your number one client.” I walked right past him like he didn’t exist.

  “You’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

  “By who?” I flexed a biceps with my back to him and headed toward his office. His shoes pounded the tile accompanied by a faint chuckle of laughter with his footsteps.

  “Such a dick,” he mumbled.

  I waited for him to catch up as we rounded the corner where the hallway opened up into an expansive bullpen of cubicles. “Where’s Jenny?”

  “In my bed.” He paused. “Where she belongs.”

  I glanced at him with a side eye while he tried to keep a straight face. “She must be in a different area code.”

  Ethan’s head dropped a little, but it was a show, for humorous effect. “She’s out scouting the kid at Lubbock Christian.”

  “Oh yeah? Heard that kid can rake.”

  Ethan’s face lit up. He loved talking baseball. “He’s got it. Haven’t seen the ball pop off the bat like his, well, since we were in college.”

  “Oh yeah, like when you were on the mound?” I nudged him with my elbow and grinned.

  “You’re on a roll today, Stallworth. Keep it up.” He paused. “For real, though. Kid has power. He reminds me of you. I need to sign him.”

  “Well, you sent the ace. I’m sure it’ll happen.”

  Ethan pushed through a conference room door and let it slam in my face. I laughed and pulled the door open.

  He sat at a table that held a stack of manila envelopes and papers.

  I’d love to say I wasn’t thinking about Kelsey’s perky tits instead of the millions of dollars of contracts on the table, but that would’ve been a lie. It wasn’t just her breasts that captivated me, but yeah—they were nice and I was still a guy.

  “Whadda ya got for me?” I rubbed my hands together and sat down across from him.

  “Just hold your shit, okay? I planned this all out.”

  I cocked my head to the side and waved him on with a hand. “Well, please proceed, agent. Woo me.”

  “Oh, I will proceed. And you will be wooed, sweetie.” He held up a manila folder. “Eight years, two hundred million doll hairs, Blue Jays.”

  I started to say something and he cut me off.

  “Fucking chump change.” He tossed the folder into a wastebasket right next to his chair.

  I laughed. It was obviously placed for dramatic effect. Nobody kept a trash can in the middle of a conference room floor.

  “There’s nothing in that folder, is there?” I pointed at it.

  Ethan glared. “Dude, just fucking—c’mon? I’m doing a thing here.”

  My shoulders bounced up and down while I attempted not to laugh. “Sorry.”

  He held up another. “Two hundred twenty millll.” His voice went up a note. “Eight years, Oakland.”

  I knew I was worth more than that compared to what others made, but it was a lot of fucking money. My eyebrows rose a little.

  Ethan held it up in the air and dropped it. A few plain white sheets of paper fell out on the way down and glided to rest on the floor. He glanced down at the blank papers then back up at me.

  “If Major League Baseball could only see the professionalism on display here today. Especially concerning one of the largest contracts ever negotiated in their history.” My eyes darted to the blank sheets and I wasn’t going to be able to stay in character much longer.

  Ethan’s face reddened at his drama-turned-comedy. “Goddamn it.”

  The laugh exploded from my cheeks.

  “Fucking shit!” He stomped off toward the end of the table.

  “It’s okay, man. Keep going.” My whole body shook, half nerves, half trembling, at attempting to hold in more laughs. The wh
ole thing was exactly what I needed, to be honest, and Ethan knew that. “Maybe you can turn this show around.”

  Ethan nodded and walked back over. “Fuck it. Let’s get down to business, Matty.” He swiped all but two of the folders away. Every one of the folders he swatted down the table stopped just short of the edge.

  We both stared at the end of the table for a brief second and then back at each other.

  “This fucking day.”

  I reached out and grabbed one of his wrists. He glared back.

  “It’s gonna be all right, hon. Just say what you need to say.”

  Ethan’s eyes darted up to the window of the conference room. I turned back and one of his employees stared, bug-eyed, at me holding Ethan’s wrist like I was about to break up with him at a fancy restaurant.

  Ethan sprang to his feet and scowled at the window. The employee hauled ass so fast he dropped three folders and just kept going.

  “Thought you were working on that?”

  I waited for it.

  “Thought you were working on that?” Ethan mocked me in a childish falsetto. “Jenny isn’t here today, is she?” He made a show of brushing off his suit and adjusting his tie, then composed himself. “It’s much easier to be professional when you’re not in the office.”

  I leaned back in my chair with a grin.

  “Okay, let’s get to this shit. This is it. This is the decision, right here.”

  “Give it to me.” I waved him on.

  He glanced to his crotch. “I don’t know if you can handle this, big boy.”

  I shook my head and it was like Ethan sensed the power returning to his side of the table.

  “Oh, you think you’re ready for this, but are you sure? Are you really sure?”

  “Motherfucker, tell me.”

  “But Matthew—I need to be clear here—are you sure?” He squinted his eyes and nodded his head.

  “I will choke-slam you on those folders full of blank sheets of paper.”

  “That’s right. They are all blank, Matty. Because it’s all up here.” He tapped an index finger on one of his temples.

  “Dude?”

  “Okay, fine, dickhead. So it’s between the Rangers, and, umm…”

  I knew the other team before he said the name. It happened to every all-star in free agency.

  “The Yanks.” Ethan looked away.

  I’d never been a big fan of the Yankees. It was childish, but true. They outbid everyone for the best players. One would think that would be an amazing thing for my current position—but I’d been with the Rangers my entire career. They’d been good to me. Arlington and the fans were amazing and I’d grown up in the area. I knew this would be a decision I’d have to make, and yet I’d prayed every day it wouldn’t come to this.

  I let out a huge exhale. “I was afraid of this.”

  “I know.”

  The awesome thing about my friendship with E was that we both knew when it was time to joke and time to be serious.

  “How wide is the gap?”

  It didn’t even get a chuckle out of him and usually he would’ve pounced all over the word play opportunity. “It’s quite a bit.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  Fuck.

  Ethan stared. “You don’t have to decide today, bro.”

  I stood up and paced back and forth. My thoughts jumbled together when I tried to focus on the stakes at hand, but Kelsey’s face was the only thing I could see.

  What the fuck?

  She was gorgeous—dirty-blond hair, perfect smile, amazing curves. What was even better was the fact that she loved music and just about everything I was into other than baseball, the sport that defined me to everyone else in the world.

  I tried to push her from my thoughts, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Kelsey was the drunk who refused to leave when the bar closed. She repeatedly fought her way to the front of my mind.

  “I know. I know.” I continued to pace with my hands on my hips, then I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “How much is it?”

  “Rangers offered three hundred for ten years.”

  Jesus Christ.

  “You’d be the first ever to hit thirty million per year—in history.”

  “And the Yanks?”

  He looked away. “Four hundo, twelve years.”

  My body numbed and I thought I might pass out. The Yankees were destined to make me look like the world’s greediest asshole.

  Fuck them.

  I should’ve been excited about being offered that much money, and yet it was like they had whipped their huge cock out in public and swung it around. Any fan on the street in Arlington—they’d boo me anytime I came home. They’d call me a sellout. My friends—hell, even some of my family—might disown me.

  I had worked hard for my reputation. I wanted to be the good guy who cared. It’d look like I’d sold my soul to the highest bidder. But I could change so many lives with that extra money. I thought about all the extra support I could give to various charities that were close to me.

  The walls of the conference room closed in on me, and my heart raced.

  My family would be set up for generations. None of them would have to worry about money. The kids that hadn’t even been born yet would never have to worry about what college they’d go to and how they’d pay for it.

  Those thoughts should’ve been the options to weigh and instead it was Kelsey’s goddamn gorgeous face right in front of me, smiling. I hadn’t felt the way I did around her in a long time, if ever. Why?

  It was fucking stupid. We hadn’t even been on a date, just random flirting. Pursuing her now would be an act of pure sabotage.

  “Hey, where does Kelsey work?”

  What?

  I couldn’t believe I said that out loud.

  Ethan laughed. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  I shrugged.

  “Did you hear what I said? Three hundo from the Rangers. Four from the Yanks. Why the fuck are you asking about Kelsey fucking Martin?”

  I sat back down at the table and dropped my face into my hands. I dug my nails into my scalp and clawed at my hair. “I—I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anything right now.”

  “Matty, look at me.”

  I glanced up at him.

  Ethan’s face tightened and his posture went from fucking-off back to serious. “Look, obviously I get paid a lot more if you choose the Evil Empire. But I want you to do what’s best for you. You know this, right?”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “Bro, I’ll be happy for you. Whichever you choose.”

  I stared up at the ceiling and shook my head again. The world crushed me into the ground. “I know. I feel like a selfish asshole even thinking about it. Both amounts are more than anyone needs, ya know? I just want to play baseball, man. But fuck, you of all people know what I can do with that extra money.”

  “I know.”

  “And there’s an extra two years on the contract. I mean, shit.” I glanced to the wall and then back at Ethan, searching for anything that might make the decision to stay in my hometown easier. “You think the Rangers can meet in the middle?”

  Fucking Yankees.

  “Honestly, Matty—I can try, but I think they threw more than they have at you already. I was surprised they offered that much. They want you bad. So fucking bad. But it’s just not a fair playing field. You know this. I hate to get you down, but it’s my job to be completely honest.”

  “Go on. Let’s hear it.”

  He sighed. “They’ll probably struggle with cash flows if you accept what they’re already offering. That’s just me being real. I don’t know for a fact because I haven’t seen their books. But it’s just my own observation. Reading between the lines.”

  “Well, that makes me feel even better. Fuck.” I beat my fist on the desk and the whole table shook.

  Ethan chuckled a little. “Just being real.”

  “What would you do?”

  “Honestly?�
�

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I can’t answer the question, professionally.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  He reached out and grabbed my wrist. “But as a friend”—he grinned—“as a friend, I think you either take the Yankee deal—”

  My jaw flexed. He cut me off before I could speak. “—or you make the Rangers offer you less and take their deal.”

  My eyes bugged out. “Less?”

  Ethan shrugged. “I would never officially hand a client that type of advice. But it’s you. You’re my best friend.”

  “But why less?”

  “Well, a few reasons. For one, do you really want to be responsible for them not being able to acquire and develop any young talent? You’d eat up all their extra cash and then some, maybe even put them in financial jeopardy trying to meet the terms. I mean, you’d take their deal because you love the organization and the fans, right?”

  “Yeah, I see what you’re getting at.”

  “You wouldn’t lose out on all of that money. There is a lot of fucking PR value in doing that. Money isn’t the only thing that’s valuable. You’d abso-fucking-lutely solidify the ‘good loyal guy’ branding you’ve created for yourself. And by fucking God, I never thought I’d say this in my life, but—it would just be the right thing to do, if you really cared about them and the fans.”

  “I have a lot to think about, don’t I?”

  “Yeah. You do.” He stood up and walked around the table.

  My legs were Jell-O when I stood. Ethan did something he’d done very few times in the span of our friendship. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy.

  He hugged me.

  “You have a lot of people that have your fucking back, dude. You know that, right?”

  I embraced him tighter and clapped a hand on his back. “I know, man. Thank you.”

  He took a step back and gave me a smack on the shoulder with an open palm. “You’re welcome. We’re brothers. All this”—he looked through the window at all the offices and workers scurrying around—“it doesn’t mean shit compared to this.” He waggled a finger back and forth between us. “And without you, none of it would be here. I owe you for that.” He tapped my chest with his index finger.