Page 36 of Beg Me

“Goodbye.”

I hit the End button, and once I’m sure the call has been disconnected, I groan.

“There’s really nothing I can do at this point, Markie. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you, Adam,” I say, smashing my palm against the center console. Every emotion flows through me like a flooded river. I don’t know which to try to catch and latch on to. Which emotion will help me navigate this … this tragedy?

I burned another week trying to accommodate him, and he didn’t even have the decency to let me know what was going on until this morning. There’s no way he just found out about this. As a matter of fact, he said he’d been practicing what to tell me and worrying about what the guys at work were going to say.

Yeah. He’s known about this for a couple of days, at least.

I press my fingertips to my eyes in a futile attempt to relieve some of the pressure building behind them.

I was kind enough to give him a week to prepare for practice, and he couldn’t give me a day’s notice?

Why is this so freaking typical?

It’s so typical, in fact, that I should’ve predicted it.

Exhaling, I give myself a couple of seconds to be pissed. Then I force myself to move on.

This can’t be the way this storyline ends. I can’t let Adam be the reason Jasper wins the tournament.

But there’s no one else to ask. I’ve auditioned every male with a semi-athletic ability from Sugar County and half from Colfax County, and none of them will be anything more than a liability. And I can’t even ask Tally since they’ve made it a co-ed event.

My chest begins to ache, and the unwelcome sensation of hot tears begins to fill my eyes. Out of all the years, why does this have to happen now?

I sniffle, shaking the thoughts out of my head. Delving into “poor me” energy isn’t going to solve this problem.

“No,” I say, breathing as deep as I can. “I’m not giving up this easily. I’m not walking away from this and handing the victory to Jasper, then watching the headlines that he and his mistress dethroned me.”

The thought makes me want to rage.

I stare straight ahead, shuffling through every possible option until I land on one.

That one.

My stomach tightens as I realize what I’m up against.

I knew Jory and I had chemistry, and technically speaking, he could be a great teammate. But I also suspected that he was too gorgeous, too charming—too everything to be of any use to me. Because a distracted teammate is a crappy teammate, and I’d for sure be distracted by him.

Little did I know then that Jory is even better looking, kinder, and more charming than I could fathom.

But he’s the only person in this half of Tennessee who could guarantee me a victory. And at this point, with only three weeks to go, beggars can’t be choosers.

“When you change your mind later, you’re going to beg.”

A shiver snakes its way down my spine.

It’s either ask him or lose.

My jaw clenches as I throw my car in reverse.

And I don’t lose.

CHAPTER

TWELVE