Page 49 of Scoring Eden

I’m sick of this man’s riddles today. “There’s nothing complicated about our situation.”

Apart from Coach…and the investors…and Eden’s prick of an ex-husband.

He huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Whatever you say, man.”

“No, seriously. What would it complicate? Sex is sex.”

He looks at me like I’m the dumbest man alive. “For you, maybe. But it might not be for her. I’m just saying, sex makes things messy, and the last thing you want out of this is to break her heart, right?” He pauses. “Or for her to break yours.”

I almost laugh. “That’s not going to happen. Eden and I both know what this is. Our hearts have nothing to do with it.”

He gives a non-committal jerk of his shoulders. “That’s fine, then, so long as you’re both on the same page.”

Of course we’re both on the same page. There’s only one page to be on. This relationship isn’t real, and neither of us wants to make it that way.

There’s no risk of our hearts getting involved, and to be honest, I don’t think Eden likes me all that much anyway. She’s not going to fall in love with me, and I’m not capable of falling in love with her, no matter how beautiful and extraordinary she might be.

I trust her to keep her heart safe from me.

And mine? Well, it’s already so damaged that there’s nothing of it left to break.

TEXT THREAD BETWEEN EDEN AND SEBASTIAN

Sebastian: We need to talk.

FOURTEEN

EDEN

“Everything okay?”

I drop my phone like it’s set to self-destruct and look up. “Yeah, sure, why?”

Brynn takes a long sip of her drink and gives me a pointed look. “Whatever message you just read made you turn as green as my matcha.”

She sits across a small round table from me, dressed in hot-pink athleisure with an oversized denim jacket slung around her shoulders. Her face is fresh of makeup, and her hair is pulled back from her face in a sleek auburn ponytail.

She looks like a model who’s just got back from a go-see.

True to his word, Alex set up this little coffee date with his sister so she can help me with strategies to protect Macon from the media. We’re going to ride together to watch his game when we’re done—my first time watching him play as his “girlfriend.” My first time watching him, or anyone, play soccer ever.

“It’s nothing.” I swallow. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

It’s not fine.

In fact, it’s the furthest thing from fine.

Sebastian’s silence up until this point has been a relentless strain on my mind. We haven’t spoken since he told me he was considering filing for custody, and I haven’t been served any papers, so I’d somehow managed to gaslight myself into thinking that no news equals good news.

Boy, was I wrong.

“Did someone send you a dick pic?” Brynn presses. “I get them all the time on Instagram. When the girls are in bed, Leo and I sometimes go through them together and rate them out of ten.”

What an interesting activity to do as a couple.

“Do you get any good ones?” I ask, glad to keep the conversation away from the message I just received from my ex-husband.

She grimaces. “We had a solid seven once. But mostly, they never rate higher than a four. It’s weird, the guys with the ugliest dicks are always the ones most eager to show them off. And they’re always flaccid. Who wants a photo of a flaccid dick? They look like naked mole rats.”