Page 51 of Scoring Wilder

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"Oh, that's cool. Don't forget me when you're toting the kids to soccer practice."

Becca rolled over and propped her head up on her hand. "Ew. No. Stop. We didn't talk about anything important. I was pretty tipsy, so I'm sure I tried to make a lot of jokes, but he didn't seem to mind."

I smiled. "Any hankypanky when he dropped you off after the party?"

Becca frowned. "Nada. Nothing. He was really sweet and he walked me to the door, but he went in for a hug, which is almost as bad as a high-five. No, a high-five is better because then we could have laughed and he would have thought I looked so charming while I laughed that he would have wanted to kiss me."

"Hmm, he's definitely into you. That's what Liam said when they joined us on the dance floor. So, maybe he's just trying to take it slow, or maybe he thought you were still tipsy and didn't want to take advantage of you."

"Is it taking advantage when I would have willingly helped him attack me? I would have taken my BatGirl outfit off for him."

I laughed. "I'm not sure, but he is super hot. Can't blame you there."

Becca stared at the comforter and nodded as if thinking the same thing herself.

"I want some chicken and waffles," I demanded.

"You just had them last night. I can't believe you ate in his car. I would have handcuffed myself to the console and never left."

"I'm trying to stay away from the psycho-killer approach..."

Becca laughed. “To each their own.”

A small knock sounded at my door, and then one of the sophomore girls stuck her head inside.

"Hey, Kinsley, there's a delivery guy downstairs asking for you."

I glanced over toward Becca, but she just smiled and declared, "Strippergram. I thought we should start our Sunday morning off right."

I laughed and hopped off my bed to follow the girl back downstairs. Just as she'd promised, there was a middle-aged delivery man standing on our porch holding a clipboard and a big box.

"Kinsley Bryant?" he asked when I pushed open the screen door.

"Yes, sir!”

I signed, thanked him, and then ran back upstairs at lightning speed. Becca hadn't budged an inch. Lazy cow.

"My mom seriously needs to relax with the care packages. I fear that it's her main pastime these days."

Becca hopped up to help me open the box. "Pfft, don't knock her gifts. If she wants to order random things from Amazon and ship them here, let her. I now have a year supply of deodorant thanks to her."

I rolled my eyes and peeled the tape off the box. Inside, beneath a lot of colorful tissue paper, there was a hot pink bicycle helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, band aids, and ice packs. At the bottom of it all there was a simple piece of white card stock with what I'd learned to be Liam's handwriting.

For your protection whenever you're around Becca. Hope your elbow is feeling better. - L

"No he did not," Becca laughed, pulling the card out of my hand. "Damnit! He doesn't get to be funny, too. That's not fair."

In five minutes flat I had on all the gear and was traipsing around my room like a five year old about to go out on my first bike ride. Well, either that or someone that just escaped from an insane asylum.

"C'mon. Let's go wakeup Emily," I said, walking awkwardly to the door of my bathroom.

"Ok, but you have to do it since you're the one in that gear. I don't have anything to deflect her punches if she attacks me."

"You realize we're talking about Emily, right?"

Becca paused and held up her hand. "The same Emily that almost broke your neck in that pillow fight. I think she may secretly be a boxer or a fighter. I swear."

"Good point," I laughed. "Stay behind me."


Unknown: Come to practice early tomorrow.

Kinsley: Who is this?

Unknown: Liam.

Kinsley: Prove it…

Liam: She thought she could, so she did.

Kinsley: Okay. You pass the test, lover boy. How early are we talking? And is that a good idea?

Liam: You're supposed to be the young and reckless one... 5:15.

Kinsley: What if there are photographers?

Liam: I'll make sure there aren't any.

Kinsley: Did you just make me an accomplice in their murders?

Liam: My bad. Delete this text.

I scanned through our text exchange three more times before dropping my phone onto my chest. I had no clue what he wanted from me, but I knew I had to see him.

After telling Becca that she'd have to drive herself to practice because I was going early to meet with Liam (to which she squealed in my ear for thirty minutes), I picked out a cute workout outfit and attempted to shut off my brain to no avail.

At 5:00 A.M., I rolled out of bed, pulled on my clothes, and threw my hair up into a messy ponytail. If he wanted me to be anywhere at 5:15 A.M. other than in my bed, then he better not expect me to have actually brushed my hair. No way, Jose.


Tags: R.S. Grey Romance