Her Football Star Ex Novels & Stories

He pulls out a bottle of water, shrugs off his jacket, and drops into the chair across from me, his eyes meeting mine. Then he opens his mouth. “How the hell can you make comments like that, Mason?” he says with a chuckle. “You forgot already? Alpha Evans divorced his wife. Or should I say..she dumped him. Right in front of the entire pack.” He throws his head back and laughs like it’s the best joke he’s told all week. I clench my fists under the desk. “I never knew Georgia had it in her,” Xander continues, stretching out in the chair like he’s settling in for a damn talk show. “And I still can’t believe I missed the drama live. But hey, it was trending everywhere. Gotta say…quite the show.”

I shouted, seriously considering getting out of the truck and walking back to São Fernando. “I’m not married to Carla, and I’m not Felipe’s father,” he said calmly, staring at the steering wheel. “I don’t have a wife, Emily. I’ve never had a serious relationship since you.” The last part came out almost as a whisper, and I froze, staring at him. My breathing was ragged, whether from the kiss or from what I’d just heard. He had no one. We wouldn’t be betraying anyone by doing this!

“Their stock crashed this morning. They’re being forced into a merger.” “A merger?” I murmured, my stomach tightening. “With a giant,” he added. “One of the biggest entertainment empires.” Before I could ask which one, the car slowed at a red light. Noelle tugged my sleeve. “Mommy,” she whispered, pointing out the window. “Who is that man?” My blood froze. A massive digital billboard glowed above the street. Obsidian Holdings. And standing at the center of it— Dominic Montgomery. He looked sharper than he had five years ago. More dangerous. More powerful. The pain I buried clawed its way back to the surface.

As we commented on the team we were supporting, my little girl expressed her admiration for Xavion. “I am certain that my savior uncle will be the best player of this season. In just two matches, he has scored six goals.” Perhaps there was something wrong with my eyes or Demrid was actually feeling uncomfortable, I spotted a hint of sadness in his hazel eyes. Like, he was missing the thrill of being a part of this game. To test my theory, I looked for his old pictures online and showed them to Hayley. “Your savior uncle can be a star. But your daddy had ruled the football world half a decade ago, my precious honey. He was the best quarterback in the NFL.”

It was probably to show Eva what a gentleman he was, but I couldn't help but feel special by his gesture. Looking at him, I noticed he was wearing makeup to hide the bruises on his face, but even with the makeup, some of them were hard to hide. There was a big cut on his lips and a visible bruise on his jaw. I laughed internally but hoped he wasn't meeting me to complain about my brother. “I will be back with the starters in a few minutes,” she said before leaving. Tyler sat across from me and cleared his throat to cut the awkwardness between us, while I looked at my lap, trying not to let my tears fall because I knew it was the end. I could feel it under my skin.

I said, my voice sounding distant. “This is my girlfriend, Julian. Julian… this is Summer. My ex from high school. You remember I told you about dating a cheerleader? That’s her.” He said her like he was proud of dating me for a week, fooling around with me in a locker room, spreading disgusting rumors, and ruining my prom. No wonder he was the most hated celebrity journalist today.

Pictures and quotes related to football flooded the first half of his profile, the second half had pictures of estates, beach houses, and private jets I assumed was owned by aunt Courtney, then there was a whole section that only had pictures of his car, every single angle of it! I face-palmed myself and shook my head. I checked out many people’s status but did not find anything interesting so I went out and messaged Hector. Me: Hi. Hector: U cud try calling me Babe or Baby, or Boo. Come on, Amour. B a little romantic. Me: Oh, I’m sorry, Berny. I didn’t mean to have no romance in me. Hector: Berny? Ouch! He sent a laughing emoji after that which made me smile.

I had to raise my drink to him in return. “Ah, American, aye?” “And you’re a Scot, aye?” The bartender laughed. “That sounds terrible.” “Sorry, it didn’t sound right to imitate your accent, but that’s pretty calling.” “Aye. Our football players. Soccer.” “I see. So they’re kinda a big deal around here.” “Aye. Pretty big like Stephen Curry for basketball or Aaron Donald in your NFL. And I just got their autographs and a selfie.” “Wow! So, they’re really a big deal.”

She pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose and told her knees not to shake. I had to see him. Not for love. Not for closure. For Avis. He wasn’t going to take my baby. Over my dead body. The guard took me along a corridor which reverberated with each step. Here my heels did not rhyme like forces, they rhymed like threats. And then he appeared. Quentin Palmer. My ex-husband. My nightmare in a tailored suit — except now the suit was gone, replaced with a plain orange uniform. He still looked dangerous. Maybe more dangerous than ever.

She inadvertently let slip their unlabelled romantic relationship, a fact that had so far remained a well-guarded secret to the general public as the team and close friends knew. Meanwhile, Jeremy was trying to make a quiet exit from the stadium. His celebrity status, a result of his illustrious football career at Colorado, often led to unwanted attention, and he did not want to steal the spotlight from the Outlaws' performance. However, he barely made it to the parking lot when he was ambushed by reporters. The news of his relationship with Alexandra was now public, and the reporters were eager for his comments.