Page 52 of Scoring Position

“Hey!” I say in greeting. “What’s u?—”

“I’m hiding in the breakroom,” she cuts me off, talking quietly. “I just overheard the dean talking to Ace’s advisor about his Human Sexuality grade. They think he cheated, Lark. They’re starting an investigation.”

I freeze, my blood running ice cold through my veins. “What? He didn’t cheat. I helped him learn the material and studied with him, but he answered every question and wrote every essay on his own.”

“I know. I’m going to try to get more information, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. They’re saying that his grade in this course being so much higher than the ones he’s taken in the past, despite having less time to complete the work, is raising some red flags. I have no idea if they’ll go to the media or not—I just didn’t want you two to be blindsided.”

Anger flows through me as my hands ball into fists at my sides. With the number of photos that have been taken of Ace and me, I’m sure Gail knows I was tutoring him. She’s been trying to get me to back down for over a year, but she never had anything important enough to me that she could use to her advantage. She knows Ace didn’t cheat. This isn’t about him. It’s about me.

“What a fucking bitch,” I mumble, trying my best to keep my rage at bay. The last thing I need to do right now is act before I have time to cool down. That’s exactly what she wants—to catch me while I’m out of sorts so she can get what she’s been after.

“I have to go,” she whispers. “I’ll call you if I hear anything else.”

“Thank you.” I hang up the phone, tossing it onto the couch before leaning forward with my head in my hands. I know I have to make him aware of what’s going on, but I don’t want it to affect his game. They play one more in Boston tonight, then head straight to New York for two in a row. It’ll be better to tell him everything in person so I can reassure him that it’s going to be alright. I won’t let Gail make him out to be anything less than an amazing man who lives his life with honesty and integrity, no matter what he’s doing. If, in the end, that means giving her what she wants—so be it. As much as I’ve been empowered by not letting her bully me anymore, it’s not nearly as important to me as Ace being able to walk across that graduation stage with his head held high. I won’t let anyone take that away from him.

ACE

“What’s that?” Riggs says, looking over my shoulder as we make the short bus ride to the stadium. We’re about to take on the Boston Tide in the last game of the series, and then we’re hopping on a plane to New York later tonight. I hate being away from Lark, so I’ve been trying to stay busy during my free time in hopes that it’ll fly by.

Spoiler alert: It hasn’t.

I called earlier, but she seemed tired, only giving short answers and telling me she had a few chores to get done before the broadcast started. I love that she watches me play when I’m on the road, so we said our goodbyes and promised to talk when I got back to the hotel tonight. I ordered some snacks to be delivered to her house in a bit, so hopefully she feels me with her, even though I’m a thousand miles away.

“Nothing,” I say, shoving my Kindle into the seat, face down.

He raises a suspicious brow. “That looks like a book for grown-ups, Rook. Are you even old enough to have that?” He stands, rounding the seat and plopping down next to me as he continues. “Monroe was reading one last week where a baseball player was absolutely railing the shit out of his girl—although I’m not sure why since she has the real thing.” He shrugs. “Could be worse, though. It could be football.”

I roll my eyes because, like hell, I’m admitting to anything. This guy is a jokester, and I’m not setting myself up for any pranks involving smutty excerpts being taped to my locker. “How’s the shoulder?” I ask, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere. We’re nearing the end of the regular season, and our bodies are starting to feel the effects. We’ve been trying to conserve his joints by taking it easy on the fastballs, but sometimes it’s necessary.

“Pretty good. I’ve been doing some prehabilitation with my trainer, and I’m feeling a hell of a lot stronger than I normally do at this point in the year. Maybe I’ll see thirty in this league, after all.”

I scoff. “You’ll see forty, Val. I’ll make sure of it.” He looks over at me with a smile, putting his fist up for me to bump. I’d love to still be taking pitches from him over a decade from now. Florida is my home, and I’m beyond lucky to say I’m living my dream so close to where I was raised, especially when the chances of being drafted by the team you grew up cheering for are next to none. I want to retire in front of Fury fans someday, surrounded by my team, Lark and whatever family we’re blessed with.

In less than three months, my life went from being alone and unsure to being excited about the prospect of a future with this team and the woman I love.

As long as she’s mine, absolutely nothing in this world can stop me from having it all.

THIRTY-TWO

LARK

I pullthrough the front gate of the university, slowly driving down the tree-lined road that leads to the administration buildings. It’s been two days since I spoke with Hailey, and although I told myself I’d tell Ace what was going on so we could decide on a plan of action together, I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing, knowing the kind of destruction Gail is capable of. He won’t be back from New York until late tonight, and I didn’t want to waste precious hours sitting at my house when she may be getting ready to go to the media. I need to at least try to stop her.

Is it still a little impulsive to be here? Probably. But for the last three years, Ace has done everything he could to avoid negative attention, even when it meant not getting justice after he was violated. If I can put a stop to this without him knowing—at least until it’s over—I will. No matter what it takes.

I turn into an empty space across from Gail’s Lexus, preparing to wait until she leaves for lunch. I’m sure there’s no way security would buzz me into the building since I didn’t exactly leave on good terms, so I don’t have much of a choice. Asimpatient as I am to confront her, I can’t do anything until she steps outside.

I pass the time by pulling up the Fury’s social media account on my phone. There are rows of photos and funny videos of the team doing trendy dances and answering obscure questions. I click on a thumbnail of Ace, the recording filling my screen as it plays. By the looks of the decal on the wall behind him, it was taken before yesterday’s game in New York.

“What’s your favorite food?” the interviewer asks, putting a miniature microphone up in front of his mouth.

“Hmm,” he hums, pretending to be deep in thought. “I’m just a really big sweets guy.” My shoulders shake with laughter at the innuendo and the adorable grin that blooms across his face as he says it. Butterfly wings tickle the insides of my stomach, and I kick my feet with giddiness as the interview goes on, realizing just how happy I am. I don’t need giant declarations of love to feel wanted by Ace, although I’m sure he’d give them if he knew I’d be okay with it. It’s the little things that make me feel important—like surprise treats when he’s away or inside jokes that let me know he’s thinking about me when I’m not there.

Just as I’m about to click on another video of him dancing with Friggle, an ugly-as-sin pantsuit catches my eye. Gail takes a few steps out of the building, checking her watch before looking from left to right as if she’s waiting for someone.

“Perfect,” I mumble, pulling my keys from the ignition and exiting the car. As soon as the door slams shut, she notices me, rolling her eyes like the snooty bitch she is.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Lark,” she says in a monotone voice, as though my mere presence is a giant inconvenience. That’s nothing new since I can’t remember her ever treating me any differently.

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