Silver (2 page)

Now that they were sitting here, she was realizing that nothing he had done those last few months mattered. He was one-tenth of a second slower than average in the forty-yard dash for a quarterback, and that was holding him back now. One-tenth of a second, and he could have been a first-round pick.

“Why the long face?”

Stacia startled and looked up to find none other than Jude Rose himself standing in front of her. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t been paying attention to anything. “What?”

He smirked down at her in that insufferably sexy way of his. She wanted to smack that shit right off his face. Not only had he hurt Bryna, but Stacia had known enough sports agents to know that they were awful people. That smile wouldn’t work on her.

“Your boyfriend is about to be worth millions. I would think you’d have a smile on your face for the cameras, sweetheart,” Jude said.

Stacia plastered on a fake smile that she’d used all her life and hopped to her feet. Not that it did much. She was only about five feet tall, and Jude towered over her, like all the players in attendance, but she didn’t care. “When?” she demanded. “When is he going to be drafted? You promised him the first round. I thought you were the best. Seems like nothing anyone has said about you is true, except that you’re a liar.”

Jude’s smile didn’t move for a second. But his eyes hardened. “A liar? That’s a bold statement.”

“A true statement.”

He looked ready to defend himself—or maybe not; maybe he was just an arrogant ass—but he was kept from it when Marshall barreled toward him.

“Rose, what’s going on?” Marshall asked.

They clasped hands and then released.

“I was just talking to your wonderful girlfriend. She’s a real gem.”

“You know all about real gems,” she murmured under her breath. Jude had been the one to turn Bryna into a gold digger after all. Though she didn’t think Jude knew the connection between her and Bryna.

“Yeah, ignore Stacia. She’s in a mood,” Marshall said. Stacia opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off, “Draft stock. Where am I falling? What’s happening?”

And then Jude dragged him away to have a more private conversation.

Apparently, whatever he had to say couldn’t be said in front of her. Or, maybe because she was
in a mood
, he didn’t want her to hear.

In. A. Mood.

He’d said she was in a mood. Like PMS was making her irritated with this entire thing. And not every single little thing that Marshall did.

Fuck, maybe she
was
in a mood.

But not the one Marshall thought she was in.

Everything had seemed crystal clear in the middle of the season last fall. Pace had slept with her best friend from high school, Madison, a freshman cheerleader at LV State. Marshall had gotten the starting spot as quarterback for the team, and then she and Marshall started dating.

But her heart still broke over Pace. Three years of on-again and off-again behavior didn’t just disappear. Especially not when she still had to see his gloating face. Especially not when she wasn’t sure who she would have chosen if Pace
hadn’t
slept with Madison. But he hadn’t given her that choice.

And the one she was making right now had nothing to do with him.

It had everything to do with the fact that she just didn’t
love
Marshall.

Stacia gasped, and a few people glanced her way. She quickly covered her mouth and looked away.

Oh, fuck.

She didn’t love him.

Now that she’d thought the treacherous words, they seemed to multiply and magnify in her mind, like a disease spreading through her system.

Every time he belittled her, it bugged the shit out of her. His obsession with ordering for her got on her very last nerve. Even the way he chewed gum annoyed her. Frankly, she hadn’t missed him while he was training all semester. She hadn’t wanted to answer his calls when he got time to talk to her. She hadn’t even wanted to come to the draft.

She—Stacia, the jersey-chasing gold digger, whose life aspiration had been to marry an NFL quarterback—didn’t want it.

It hit her with such clarity that she could walk out the door right at that moment, and she would have no regrets. She wouldn’t even glance back to see if Marshall had noticed.

But she couldn’t do that to Marshall right now. It was, after all, the best day of his life.

“Here it comes. Here it comes!” Jude said, pushing Marshall back into his seat.

Stacia sank down next to him with a resigned sigh. Jude glared at her, and she remembered to plaster on her fake smile.

She was happy.

She was confident.

She was beautiful.

She could do this.

The Commissioner reappeared onstage, and everyone tensed in anticipation once more. Every time he stood onstage, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“With the fifty-first pick in the NFL draft, the Buffalo Bills select…”

Marshall squeezed her hand again, and she breathed out to ignore the pain.

“Marshall Matthews, quarterback, Las Vegas State.”

CHEERS ERUPTED ALL AROUND HER
. Everyone sprang to their feet. Marshall straightened his suit, and for a second, he looked like he was going to cry. Then, he turned and scooped Stacia up in his arms. She clung to his suit for balance, and then he kissed her full on the mouth.

This was the moment. This was his defining greatness. The road he had been on his entire life had culminated into the here and now.

She was excited for him. Happy that he had been drafted. He deserved it even if LV State had suffered some tough losses with him as quarterback. But the strongest emotion was relief. Now, it was over.

Marshall finally released her, hugged his mom and dad, shook Jude’s hand, and then walked away from them. Stacia watched him make that momentous walk through the back room to the door that led to the stage. Then, all eyes were fixed on the screen that showed Marshall taking a hat and jersey and smiling for the cameras.

It was over practically before it’d started.

The clock started over.

Seven minutes.

Then, another lucky player would be drafted, and attention would shift once more.

Marshall was giving an interview to an ESPN reporter. The woman was pretty with dark hair and long eyelashes. Stacia recognized her as a sideline reporter during the football season. God, Stacia couldn’t imagine how amazing it would be to interview players, to watch and discuss football, to get
paid
to do what she loved. That girl had a dream job.

Marshall was still talking to the reporter when Stacia and his family were ushered away from their seats and escorted to a waiting room for when Marshall was finished.

The whole thing happened unbelievably fast. When Marshall returned to her side, he returned as an NFL quarterback. He let her know that he would have a few meetings to attend, and then the team was going to take him and his family out for dinner.

“So, just head back to the hotel, and get all dressed up for me,” Marshall said when they finally had a minute alone. “Go to the spa. Relax. Get your hair and makeup done. I want everyone to see that I have the hottest girlfriend here.”

Stacia opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Marshall just kissed her.

“Make sure you wear some of your sexy lingerie underneath,” he said suggestively against her mouth. “I want to celebrate.”

“Marshall…” she breathed.

Fuck
. The last thing she was thinking about was celebrating.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

And then he disappeared, leaving her alone with his parents, who frankly didn’t like her. They never said anything to her face, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see the accusation pointed her way. She gave them a tight-lipped smile before agreeing to take a cab back to the hotel with them.

By the time she got back up to her and Marshall’s room, she was exhausted and irritated. She hadn’t wanted to be rude to his parents, so even though her phone had been vibrating more often than the fastest setting of her own toy back home, she hadn’t touched it to see who was messaging her.

Now, she finally could.

And she immediately wished she hadn’t.

She had a bunch of messages from Bryna, Trihn, and their friend Maya, a few from her brother, a handful from her father, and one from Pace. She ignored all the others and opened his first.

You looked hot as fuck on TV.

God, has he been drinking?

She didn’t know what other explanation there was for him to be messaging her. Unless he was just toying with her and being a dick, which were both his specialty.

Because she was in a particularly shitty place at the moment, she texted him back.

Thanks.

It’s too bad.

Stacia bit her lip. He was baiting her. She shouldn’t ask. That was what he wanted. But she couldn’t stop herself.

What is?

That you chose wrong, and you won’t be on TV for the #1 pick next year.

Dick.

Stacia fumed.
Chose
wrong? As if he’d let her choose. Then, out of anger, she jotted out another text.

You couldn’t even make the starting position this year. You have to prove yourself on the field before you can make such outlandish claims.

But he must have already been typing because, halfway through her message, another one came in. She sent hers and then opened the next text.

I remember you liked mine better.

Fuck off! I have no interest in your dick or otherwise after you slept with Madison!

And you were sleeping with Marshall.

Not true. She hadn’t started sleeping with Marshall until they began dating in the middle of last semester. But, even though she had been sleeping with Pace last semester, she hadn’t double-dipped. It just so happened…that she hadn’t told Pace that. Or told Marshall that she’d fucked Pace. Some things were best left unsaid.

I can’t deal with you right now.

That’s just us, Pink.

Stacia flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes.

Pink.

Fuck, she hadn’t heard that in such a long time. Pace had given her that goddamn nickname all those years ago. The first time they’d officially met freshman year, she had been dressed in a hot-pink tube dress, despite the frigid temperature. He’d said it was adorable and brushed the tip of her nose like she was just the cutest thing he had ever seen. He’d called her Pink all night before she’d finally given him her name. And then she’d realized that he was Bryna’s stepbrother and totally, one hundred percent off-limits.

Don’t call me that.

Don’t tell me that I still affect you. I’m sure you’ll forget all about my little nickname for you when you’re giving some good head tonight. I’ll think about you while I get some, too.

Stacia ground her teeth together and tossed her phone aside.
Prick.

Why?

Why
had she answered his text messages? Now, she was pissed and wanted to throttle him. And she was horny. She hated that he was the best lay she had ever had.
Hated
it. Why couldn’t it have been someone who was less of a total asshole? Why couldn’t it have been Marshall? Maybe she could have put aside the other things if Marshall were phenomenal in bed. And he wasn’t
bad
, but once you’d had the best, it was hard not to compare.

Stacia hopped off the bed in frustration—sexual and otherwise—and headed to the shower. She needed to masturbate to clear her head and then get her thoughts in order, so she could figure out what in the actual fuck she was going to say to Marshall later.

By the time she had finished getting ready in a Trihn original dress, Marshall was collecting her for dinner. She slid into her Manolos and hurried after him to the elevator and then the waiting limo. It was a short drive to the luxurious steak house, and she was stuffed in a seat between Marshall and one of the team owners or managers. She never figured out which since they talked over her the entire night.

Apparently, Marshall had been completely serious about her being arm candy for the evening. So, she ate her dinner and remained silent.