Atlas:
What’s that supposed to mean?
Lincoln:
When’s the last time you looked at your Instagram?
Atlas:
I have an Instagram?
Lincoln:
Yes, idiot. You got tagged in a bunch of promo pics for the event. The ladies are going feral. Including Cara Preston. She’s happy to be your date or—and I quote—whatever you need, anytime. So your next game should be fun.
“Fuck me,” I groaned to my empty hotel room and scrubbed a hand down my face.
I tossed my phone on the bed and finished tying my bow tie, my mind properly occupied this time. That woman might as well have taken out a billboard for how subtle she’d been in her interest since I’d moved back home.
Problem was, I didn’t date my players’ moms. Or women who lived in Starlight Cove. Or in general.
I’d come to realize that returning home—or to my hotel room—alone and jacking off to a faceless woman held a lot fewerheadaches for me. God knew my family proved enough of a challenge that I didn’t need to add any more to my list.
CHAPTER TWO
SUTTON
On any other Saturday night,my big plans for the evening would’ve been to spend it in an empty house with my current read and my vibrator. Possibly at the same time. Okay,probablyat the same time.
Unfortunately, moving across the country thwarted those plans. Being stuck in a hotel room with my teenage daughter meant there was absolutely no fun in my future. Especially when that teenage daughter was cursing my very existence for dragging her away from thefavorite city she’s ever lived—never mind she’d said that about literally every place we’d ever called home.
Laurel groaned as soon as we walked into our room. “Seriously? We have to share a bed?”
I walked past her, rolling my suitcase behind me, and glanced around the space. With its crisp, clean lines and modern touches, this hotel was a step up from our last one. But it did, in fact, have only one bed. “I thought we loved when that happened.”
“Ugh, inbooks.” She fell back onto the bed, her eye roll loud enough for me to hear. “Not with my mother.”
Sixteen-year-old attitude was going strong with this one.
“You heard the guy at check-in—with the event happening, we only managed to snag this room because of a last-minute cancelation.”
And thank god for that because if I had to spend even five more minutes in a car with Laurel, I wasn’t sure both of us would make it out alive.
Bracing my hands on either side of her shoulders, I leaned over her on the bed and shot her a mischievous smile. “You wanna crash whatever fancy sportsball thing is happening in the ballroom?”
“We hate sportsball.”
“All the more reason to crash it. I’d be willing to bet gala plus sportsball equals good food.”
“Silence plus solitude equals a good night.”
Becoming a mom at sixteen hadn’t been easy, but I loved my daughter more than life itself. Would crack open my chest and rip out my own heart if she needed it. But spending two days in a car with her and her shitty attitude was pushing me to my limit. What I wouldn’tgivefor a roll of duct tape right now.
“Hey, I have a great idea,” I said with false cheer as I pushed to stand. “I’m gonna head down to the bar for a while and give you some privacy for your existential crisis. Sound good?”
“Still living in Atlanta would sound good.”
“Great! I’ll work on getting that time spinner up and running while I’m enjoying a lemon drop.” I hooked my oversized purse over my shoulder and strode toward the door. “Lock this behind me.”
