First and Tension (Summersweet Island 4)

“You definitely need to hurry,” Bodhi continues as I start digging in my back pocket for the keys to my golf cart. “She’s going to meet with Jeanie to officially turn down the job.”

My heart plummets right into my feet, not even giving two shits that Emily isn’t currently on her way to find me. The idea that she wouldn’t take this job is just the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and I really thought I would have time to tell her that as soon as I fucking found her. She’s worked her entire life for this, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her throw it all away.

“You better fix this!” Wren shouts after me as I race out the door, scooping up my phone as I go, not even bothering with the four stairs as I jump off the porch and onto the sidewalk.

“I plan on it, sweetheart!” I shout back, scrambling into my golf cart, when Wren and Bodhi come out onto the porch.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you asshole! Your charm is no good here right now.”

Giving Wren an imploring look as I fire up the cart, she throws her hands up in the air and shakes her head at me.

“I’m sorry; you’re not really an asshole. Get the hell out of here and fix this!”

“Good luck!” Bodhi shouts to me as I start backing out of the driveway. “And if my wife happens to call you, maybe don’t tell her about the roof-surfing. I’ll just tell her I was chilling up there and someone pushed me.”

CHAPTER 26

Emily

“I dare you.”

Is this football, or a romance novel?

Bagley won’t be able to pull the Sharks from the ashes if he’s too busy putting out the flames in his relationship.

A hot piece of ass is not worth all this drama. Stick to football, Quinn, and stay away from the crazy chicks!

Another egotistical quarterback thinking with his dick instead of his head.

Like this post if you’re sick of hearing about Quinn Bagley’s love life!

I bet Jeanie Bidwell is really wishing she wouldn’t have spent all that money on Bagley right about now.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I try not to think about everything I read on the internet last night when I couldn’t sleep, but it’s impossible. It was fine when they were just trashing me, but now they’ve brought Quinn into it, and I feel sick to my stomach. This feeling of helplessness and panic hasn’t left me, ever since I was hugging my knees to my chest on the couch in my hotel room, too much of a coward to call Quinn. Instead, I scrolled through social media, each post and comment stabbing into my heart, filling me with so much guilt I thought it would choke me.

I didn’t go back to the island, because for the first time in my life, it didn’t feel like home. All I could think about was every memory I’ve made there with Quinn. The idea of taking the ferry back there without him, going back to my cottage without him, and curling up under my covers that smell like him, and him not being there after he spent the night prior with me suddenly made it hard for me to breathe. I hailed the first taxi that drove by The Varsity Club and had the driver take me to the first hotel I could afford, just so my friends wouldn’t bombard me with their questions and worry. They did it anyway over the phone, but it was easier to handle that way, rather than having to see the pity for me on their faces.

“Jesus, I look like death.”

My raspy voice even sounds like death as I open my eyes and stare at my reflection on the back of the elevator doors as it slowly moves me up to the fifth floor of the building attached to the stadium, where Jeanie’s office is located. I called her from my hotel room to see if she would meet with me, not expecting her to tell me to come to the stadium in an hour. Her short, clipped voice did absolutely nothing to calm my anxiety. The fact that I’m still wearing the same clothes as last night, yanked out my ponytail and finger-combing my long red locks as best as I could, and used the hotel’s complimentary soap and toothpaste to freshen up, with a visitor’s badge around my neck and puffy, blood-shot eyes from crying for twelve hours straight, does nothing to calm it either.

Why didn’t I just tell him about the job as soon as I got the email?

I drop my head and close my eyes again when the elevator pauses on the third floor, since looking at myself still dressed in Quinn’s jersey just makes them sting with more tears. I squeeze them closed harder and try to find the strong, independent woman I know I am, but she’s not there. I try to dig down deep for some anger I know I should be feeling, but it’s nowhere to be found either. I wouldn’t even have the energy to pull it out and use it, even if I did find it.