Tatum's POV Sitting around waiting for the clock to strike 11 p.m. is killing me. For the first time, I'm the first one to the picnic table in the small park, listening to the rustle of leaves as the wind swoops by, chilling my skin slightly. I figured that with the Cats celebrating the win of the championship, it might take Nico a little while to get away from the team and the interviewers. Instead, I decided to be the first one here, but now I'm realizing that it's only making me more nervous for when he eventually arrives. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, it's 10:55 p.m. It's almost time. Being the best friend that she is, Sammie covered for me with my dad. I didn't want him to know that I had left the stadium to go meet up with Nico, so we decided to tell him that we were planning to have a sleepover at Sammie's house. He seemed distracted and excited about the events of the evening, so all he did was kiss me goodbye and tell us to drive safely. On her way home, Sa
Tatum's POV"I'm sick of this, Dad! I don't want to be an accountant for the rest of my life, drowning in numbers and other sh*t that just goes over my head. I want to be creative and do things that make me happy." "Where is this coming from, Tate?" Dad asks, his brows raised to his hairline. His arms are folded firmly over his chest as he stares down at me. "You seemed all for doing this degree when you started a couple of years ago. What has changed?" "I changed!" I shout, feeling the frustration and annoyance rising in my chest. "You chose this degree, and I got no say in it because you said, 'It's the best thing for your future.' Last time I checked, I'm the only person who gets to decide my future, not you or anyone else." Why doesn't he understand what I'm saying? I couldn't have made myself clearer as we continue to go around in circles over the topic. I'm a twenty-two-year-old woman who has never felt more lost in my life than I do at this very moment. I feel
Tatum's POVIt's not the beam of bright sunlight shining in through the large window beside the bed that wakes me, but the heavy weight of something across my stomach. Forcing my eyes open despite how heavy they feel, peeling them apart as if they've been stuck together with glue, I look at the large, tattooed arm lying across my bare stomach. My eyes trace the large, detailed dragon running from the top of the shoulder – its eyes staring up at me – and over its body to the tip of its tail that wraps around the elbow. And all at once, the memories come pouring in like a tidal wave. Images of me bent over the countertop in the co-ed bathroom at Mario's with Nico's eyes burning into mine through the mirror as he drove into me from behind makes my core tighten. And, of course, I can't forget riding him like I was a f*cking cowgirl trying to ride the prize-winning bull until I collapsed on his chest, well spent. When Nico asked after our steamy rendezvous in the bathroo
Tatum's POVI'm so f*cking screwed. This is not happening, I keep telling myself. I must be dreaming because there is no way in hell the man I slept with last night is standing in front of me as the star pitcher for the LA Cats. The damn team that my dad coaches. Nico… Well, apparently that's not actually his name as I've come to learn in the past two minutes. I'm mortified that this is happening to me right now, and I can't hide the blush rushing up my neck to the tips of my ears. If my dad catches sight of the blush, I'm a goner. He absolutely cannot find out about me and his star pitcher. My dad has always been wary of the men I date, the classic overprotective type. This is why I don't bring guys around to the house or mention whom I'm dating because he'll want to know every single thing about them and demand to meet them. It's a little annoying, but I can't fault him for wanting to protect me and my heart. But still, he can never find out that Nico
Tatum's POVI want to enjoy my accounting degree for my dad, I really do, but I can't f*cking stand listening to my professor's robotic voice as he explains a math equation that makes zero sense to me. I would rather pull out individual eyelashes one by one, but I refrain from the pain and instead lean back in my cramped seat and stare at my laptop screen. 3:57 p.m. Three more f*cking minutes until this nightmare is over. It's been a little over two weeks since I went to my dad's workplace under the pretense that I would try to give the future he has planned for me one last chance. Instead, I ran into my walking nightmare, best known as Phoenix Reid, my one-night stand. Thankfully, nothing has come of that night and my dad is clueless, which is what I want. But despite each day that has passed since seeing those crystal-clear ocean-blue eyes, I can't seem to get them out of my damn head every night when I close my eyes. I find myself thinking about Nico more often th
Tatum's POVThe drive to Mario's from campus is longer than usual since the afternoon LA traffic is crazy, but I finally make it to the bar around 5 p.m., ready for a drink. Sometimes I'll unload all my problems to Al because he's such a good listener and has loads of wisdom to throw my way. I need to get what happened with Jaiden off my chest before I explode. Al's eyes widen when he sees me walk through the front door. "Tate? What are you doing here at this time of the day?" The bar is quiet for now with only a few regulars sitting at their usual table watching whatever is on the big screen. Soon, this place will be crawling with people since it's a Friday night, so I need to make sure I only have one drink and head home. Hopefully, my dad will be home from work sooner than planned. The thought of being alone right now is too much to handle. I sit down on my usual stool, watching as Al pours me a whiskey and coke, my go-to when I'm feeling down. "Al, it's been anot
Phoenix's POVMy eyes feel as though they're about to fall out of my f*cking head and roll across the floor of the tiled foyer as I walk past the receptionist's desk. After a long training session last night, my limbs feel heavy and my brain foggy. It could also be because I got about five hours of sleep between lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with a certain pair of amazonite crystals staring back at me, and having to wake up at 5 a.m. to get ready to come into the office. I know I put this all on myself because I live a double life as an athlete and CEO, but at the end of the day, it's worth it. Coming into the office this early wasn't something I had to do, but I like to be present among my employees because having an absent boss won't do ReidCo any favors as we start to grow bigger. So, I wanted to make sure I got in with enough time to catch up on work before I head to my one-on-one training session with Coach Monroe. As the main pitcher for the Cats, Coach likes
Phoenix's POVI slam my palm against the horn in the center of the steering wheel. "Learn to f*cking drive, you idiot!" A frustrated grunt leaves my lips as I weave in between cars during the peak afternoon LA traffic. I'm beyond late for my private training session with Coach Monroe, but I struggled to get out of a meeting that ran overtime. Because of that, I was left with no choice but to speed down the highway to make sure I'm not so late that Coach chews me out for it. The sign for the turn-off that leads me to the training facility comes into view and relief washes over me. Thank God. I'm almost there. The last thing I want to be doing after a long day in the office is to have a private training session, but I agreed to it because I know it'll help our chances of winning this season, so I need to take one for the team as the lead pitcher. Besides, Coach is one hell of a f*cking coach who knows what he's doing, so I trust him if he says the extra traini