Page 1 of Scoring Grey

PROLOGUE

ELOISE

SIX YEARS AGO

“No, no, no, no… This isn’t real.” I rub my hands down the front of my miniskirt and swallow hard as I stare at the test resting on the sink. My heart falls when my eyes catch sight of the box beside me. “That’s it!” I say with renewed hope as I hurriedly tear the wrapper off another test. “It’s a false positive. That’s a thing. Of course it is. Why else would they put two in a box?” I remind myself as I reach for the cup I opted to pee into instead of hoping I hit the tiny target.

I dip the stick with an extra level of care I didn’t possess the first time in my haste to finally put an end to the nagging suspicion I’ve had in the back of my mind all week. I slowly submerge the tip, careful not to get too much pee on the absorbent tip. As I lay it on the sink beside the other one, I tightly grip the pedestal basin and close my eyes. Getting pregnant my senior year of high school was not on my list of goals, but neither was falling for the dad.

“No, don’t say dad, Lou. If you say dad, this is real.” I nervously tap my red nails on the sink before letting my lungs deflate with resolve. “Whatever it is, own it, Lou.” I open my eyes, and sure enough, the test is identical to the first one. I’m pregnant.

My mind and my heart are a mixed bag, and I’m on the edge of crying until I drag my eyes away from the test and look at the girl standing before me in the mirror. I can’t be mad at her; she wanted every second of what landed her here. This is no one’s fault but my own. I shouldn’t have relied on a pill and infrequent periods as an excuse not to use protection, but the amber eyes tethered to the man I hate to love erase all rational thoughts when they’re pinned on me like I’m the only girl he sees. Even now, just thinking about them, my stomach knots.

God, I don’t know what to do. I gaze at the pale blue orbs hopelessly staring back at me, wishing to miraculously find answers to an uncertain future. That last thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I quickly toss the pee in the toilet and stuff the wrappers back into the box before throwing it in the wastebasket and covering it with wads of toilet paper. I know what I won’t do, and that’s a start. Wasting more time staring in the mirror doesn’t change the reality. I grab the tests and throw open the door to the bathroom, not giving myself a second longer to avoid facing the music.

I’ve only managed to take one step out when I run smack dab into a firm chest. “Mr. Balfour, I’m so sorry,” I say as I quickly put my arm behind my back, but he’s faster.

Snatching my wrist, he grips it hard and brings it between us. “What the hell is this?”

My eyes are as wide as saucers as I stare at the positive pregnancy tests in my hand. I really should have picked a different bathroom to use for what I had planned, but when I went into the one in his office, he wasn’t home, and it was the only quiet place in the house, given the party Callum threw to celebrate his hockey team making the finals. I pinch my lips together, still unable to say the words out loud.

“Is this your way of trying to trap my son?”

Those words instantly snap me out of whatever speechless coma I slipped into. “Excuse me?” Out of all the things I’d expect him to say, insinuating I’d get pregnant to trap his son is not one of them. The fear I felt mere seconds ago is gone, replaced with rage. I can’t believe he just said that. My utter shock bridles my tongue.

“This”—he pulls my wrist upward, until the tests I’m holding are at eye level—“didn’t happen. You’re not to step foot in my home again. You were never supposed to be here to begin with.”

His words slice deep. Lucas Balfour has never liked me. Dislike is being generous. The man loathes me something fierce, though I’ve never understood it. His disdain is one of the reasons Cal and I run hot and cold. It’s also why I declined Cal’s invitation tonight. However, my choice was taken from me the second the Gladiators won tonight, and two of his friends hoisted me on their shoulders and out of the rink. Now, here I am, living an actual nightmare. The last place I want to be is in his dad’s office, standing on the other end of his wrath. Lucas’s grip becomes impossibly tighter, and I stifle my discomfort as he pulls me forward.

“This problem you have isn’t Cal’s, and because I know you’re selfish and you’d rather him forfeit his career, know this, I will stop at nothing to ensure that doesn’t happen. I can ruin you, Eloise Grey, and not just you, but your entire family. We all have skeletons, and I know where yours are buried.”

I’m just about to demand he let me go when his phone rings. His eyes narrow on mine before he growls his frustration and releases me. Whatever number he sees there must be important because he storms toward the door to exit, but not before saying, “I don’t make false threats, Grey. Make it go away, or I will.”

The door slams hard, and I instinctively flinch from the earsplitting boom as it reverberates from the wood throughout the room. I clench my fist as I close my eyes. I knew I should have turned around and left the second I stepped inside this house.

“What the actual fuck?” A familiar voice echoes my thoughts.

My eyes flash open and land on Arlo, one of Callum’s closest friends, who pops up from under the imposing mahogany desk in front of the granite fireplace. “What are you doing in here?” I whisper-yell before it dawns on me. Given the raging party outside, I have no reason to speak in hushed tones. Before he can respond, a pretty brunette pops up with smeared lip gloss, answering my question. I’ve never seen her before, so she’s not from our school, which is good. One less mouth to keep silent. “This doesn’t leave this room. Do you understand me?”

“Wait, so you’re not going to tell Callum?”

“Tell him what, Arlo?”

He was hiding under the desk, and Lucas couldn’t bring himself to say the words pregnant or baby, which means all Arlo heard were threats. He crosses his arms and quirks a brow as his eyes drop to my hand. Shit. I’m still holding the tests.

“Katie, can you give me a minute? I’ll come find you after I’m through here.”

She gives him a small smile before quickly exiting the room.

The second the door closes, he says, “I don’t give a fuck what Lucas Balfour said. You need to tell Cal. Whatever you decide, he deserves to know.”

“Yeah, well, now doesn’t feel like the right time,” I say, softer than intended as I think through my next move. I was going to tell Callum. That was always on the table, but something Lucas said is now gnawing away at that resolve. It’s not the fact that he basically called me a gold-digging whore, or that he referred to my current state as a problem. It’s that he called me selfish. Unlike Callum, I don’t have any firm plans following graduation. Sure, there’s a stack of acceptance letters waiting for me to sort through at home and a clear career path handed down through my namesake, but if anything, that checklist is one I’ve been avoiding. Cal wants this future. He loves hockey. I don’t want to take that from him.

“Don’t tell me Lucas got to you. Eloise, you and I both know if you say the word, that man just signed his own death certificate.” He means that figuratively. I’m not in the business of killing people for funsies, nor do I know anyone who is.

“Arlo, the team heads into the finals next week. Cal has already been offered two full-ride scholarships, but we both know he has his eye on Michigan. He’s your center. I don’t want to be the reason the team doesn’t bring home a win and jeopardize his or anyone else’s shot at making their dreams come true.”

“I get that. I don’t know why Lucas Balfour has it out for you. Every word out of his mouth was completely baseless, but regardless, you and I both know if you don’t walk out of this room and tell Cal tonight, you won’t.”

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