Introduction
A one-click, unforgettable, forbidden romance featuring an NFL hottie who falls hard for his best friend’s sister.
From USA Today Bestselling Author, Lisa Lang Blakeney, comes another unputdownable, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden sports romance between an NFL pro baller and his best friend’s sister!
I can have any woman I want.
Except for Kaya.
The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to play ball in the NFL, but my future is imploding right before my eyes after I unwittingly dump America’s sweetheart for the world to see. Now, I’m the most hated man in sports.
Desperate to get my name off of the social media gossip grinder, I return to my hometown to attend my best friend’s wedding, hoping to find some respite.
But the moment I see her again, my breath catches in my throat.
The girl next door.
The woman I can never have.
The goddess I crave.
My best friend’s little sister.
Prologue
Kaya
Ten Years Ago
* * *
I’m standing in front of an outdated and ornate floor-length mirror in my bedroom, remnants of the childhood bedroom set I grew up with. As I twirl the same tendril of hair and stare at an awful zit covered in toothpaste on my forehead, I’m still hopeful about the future. High school can’t be any worse than junior high was. It’s a new building, more students, and a chance to start fresh.
“I can’t believe my baby is all grown up,” my mother says, as she studies my face. “How was the first day of school?”
“It was cool,” I offer tentatively.
“Give it some time, babe. You’re going to find your people and then I know you’re going to love it. High school is a special time in a person’s life. Your father would have been so proud of you.”
“Proud of what? I have done nothing.”
“You don’t have to do anything in particular, Kaya. Just the fact that you’re growing into a wonderful young lady is enough. That’s all we ever wanted.”
I’m fourteen-years-old and not much excites me, but I’m hoping my mom’s words about high school being a memorable moment in time are truthful. I haven’t told her much about how difficult it’s been for me to make friends over the years, but I think it’s painfully obvious by how much time I spend gaming online and not with actual people.
I’m seeking to change all of that this year, though. My plan of attack is to attend all the extracurricular activities I can, starting with a pep rally in the gym for the school’s football team tonight. Football is a huge deal at my school and in this house, too. My brother plays on the team and has dreams of heading to the NFL.
“Have fun tonight,” she tells me, then turns back around before exiting my room. “And make sure your brother doesn’t drink tonight. He’s got your dad’s car.”
“I’m not his keeper, Ma.”
“Just look out for each other,” she huffs.
“Okay,” I say, agreeing to almost anything to get her out of my room. This tender mother daughter moment is only making me more anxious about tonight.
I’m nervous as I enter the gym. The large room feels completely different at night, filled with students seated on the bleachers, and the school band playing loud upbeat music to build enthusiasm. I find myself scanning the large space looking for any familiar face I can, even my brother, but I don’t see him, so I take a seat and pretend to text someone on my cell phone to appear busy.
After a moment, a popular boy I’ve grown up seeing around the neighborhood, John Dixon, sits next to me on one bleacher. He’s one of the coolest boys in the senior class with his flawless brown skin and million-dollar smile, so when he cracks a friendly smile and says, “Hey, beautiful, I’m John. What’s your name?”
I almost pee in my pants.
All I manage to do is offer him a goofy grin in response, and before I can get myself together to say something remotely sensible, I feel my face flush as I hear the laughter erupt from the crowd of students behind me. I tentatively turn around and see my brother’s best friend, Brick, standing there with his arm wrapped around a girl, and a cocky smirk on his face, as if he’d just orchestrated a grand performance for the benefit of his audience.
My heart sinks for a moment as he glances at me and says, “What do you think you’re doing, freshman?” He gestures widely towards me, taking in the blue iridescent shadow on my eyelids and the homemade off-the-shoulder sweatshirt I’m wearing. “Are you trying to give Dixon your number or give him something else tonight?”
The crowd laughs again, and I feel my humiliation suffocating me. I wish I could just disappear, or that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Quickly, I gather my things and rush out of the gym, tears stinging my eyes as I try desperately to make my escape. I can still hear Brick behind me, his voice taunting me as I run. I know exactly what he was insinuating. How could a lowly freshman nerd like me even dream that someone like John Dixon would be interested in me?
Angry tears stream down my face as I stomp my way out of the gym and into the night. I have nowhere to go because my brother is my ride home, but I need to escape. I was just humiliated by the most arrogant boy in the school. A boy who once taught me how to first ride a bike grew into a jerk who takes some sort of sick pleasure in tormenting me.
I’m so enraged that I don’t notice when someone creeps behind me and swings me around by my arm in the middle of the road.
“Aaah!” I yelp in surprise.
“Are you crying?” he asks incredulously but still with that annoying smirk of his, like he thinks he’s so above everyone else.
I wipe my eyes quickly with the backs of my hands.
“What do you want, Brick?”
“You just took off. Where are you going?”
“What did you expect me to do when the entire school was back there laughing at me?”
“Are you having a Carrie movie moment or something? That was not the entire school laughing. It literally was five people.”
“And you’re missing the point!”
“And you were making a fool of yourself, Kaya.”
Brick never usually refers to me by my actual name, and his authoritarian tone pisses me off even more.
“By sitting on the bleachers and minding my own business?”
“You were flirting with John fucking Dixon.”
“I was not!”
“The heavy makeup. The half shirt you’re wearing. This isn’t you. If Kyle had been there, he would have done the same thing. Probably worse.”
“Then leave those types of decisions for my brother to make.”
“Excuse me for looking out for you, because as long as it’s breathing and has two tits, John Dixon will try to fuck anything.”
“Oh, so I’m just anything?”
Maple street is empty, except for the lingering echoes of laughter in the air. I felt humiliated and laughed at, a feeling that only served to make me feel more self-conscious and ashamed. My palms are slippery with sweat and my face is burning with embarrassment as the two of us are so close up in each other’s faces that I can practically smell what Brick had for dinner.