Page 58 of Her New Billionaire Bosshole

“Just glad I got the ticket for free,” he says, giving me that sideways grin. “Otherwise, I’d be watching from the parking lot.”

My brother settles down next to me, and we watch as the game heads into halftime, Dallas ahead by one point.

“That your girl?” Brandon asks, pointing down toward Sophie, who’s talking quickly, gesturing, tapping her clipboard with her finger.

“Yeah,” I glance at him, unable to keep the smile from my face. “That’s my girl. She’s the best coach in this league.”

Brandon nods, smiles, and says, “Total truth.”

There are three minutes left in the game when Orlando manages to tie it up.

“Does that mean overtime?” Brandon asks, glancing between all of us, his eyebrows raised, and I get a glimpse of what I looked like when I came to that first game.

“Not necessarily,” Rhett says, bouncing from foot to foot. “It’s totally possible that either team could score again before the end of them match. Athens is known for performing under pressure like that.”

“What happens if it goes to overtime?”

“Technically, it’s calledextra timein soccer, but they’ll do a fifteen-minute extra time, then another. If it’s still tied, it goes to penalty kicks.”

“So, a shoot-out?” Brandon asks, and when Rhett nods, we all turn back to the game, anxiety heightened. The game could go to anyone.

Yellow cards come out on the field, tensions rising as the players fight for control of the ball, Dallas working to bring the ball back down to Orlando’s goal. Angel Caruso goes down for Dallas, and we watch as her ankle is patched up.

Twenty seconds later, Orlando’s midfielder goes down, holding her leg, then limps to the side.

Play goes on. Two minutes left. The ball hovers in midfield, players dribbling fighting, passing and stealing. The box goessilent as we lean forward, watching, until Zara Santos breaks the ball away and swings it down the field.

We all stand, watching as the seconds tick down and the ball lands directly in front of Lena Athens, like it was delivered to her from heaven. She takes it, dribbling at full speed with ease, defenders trailing behind her but just unable to keep up.

It’s just her and the goalie. She swings out to the side and fires without a second thought.

Orlando’s goalie dives, hands out, gloves reaching, reaching for the ball — it hits her fingertips.

Then it spins, falls for a moment, and bounces into the net.

There’s a split second of hesitation, then the stadium erupts in applause, the sound of it once again shaking the glass, shaking the floor beneath us.

Rhett slams into me from the left, knocking me into Brandon, who laughs and stumbles, holding us both up.

“We’ve done it!” Steven yells, his voice booming through the box. This time, we’re not the only ones celebrating, joined by the other fans in here, who jump around and stomp their feet, hugging one another. A young girl has tears streaking down her face, and it actually chokes me up for a second, to know that Sophie was once that little girl, and maybe this little girl will be on that field someday.

“Congrats, bro,” Brandon says, clapping me on the back. “Now, can I meet the famous Sophie Kendall, or what?”

EPILOGUE

ONE YEAR LATER: SOPHIE

“And now for the ribbon cutting!”

The announcer booms into the microphone, and I watch as the cameras swing around, centering on Elliot and me, holding a huge pair of scissors together.

He’s as handsome as I’ve ever seen him, the sun reflecting off his dark hair, which falls messily over his forehead. When Elliot and I first started dating, he had a strict morning routine, and any deviation from it would send him into a bad mood.

But, after a few breakfast adventures —noneof which included green smoothies — I got him to relax a bit. In turn, he’s convinced me that there are some benefits to waking up early, including time for us alone before the day starts.

“You ready?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me, and even after nearly two years of being together, a flush spreads over my cheeks. He’s caught me staring at him, and he knows it.

Grinning at him, I tug the scissors up, feeling the cool metal against my palms. “Always.”