Dream Girl Drama (Big Shots #3) Read Online Tessa Bailey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Big Shots Series by Tessa Bailey
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
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Sig scrolled to an email he’d received from his agent, David, a week prior. A response to a message Sig had sent the man asking if he could recommend a private investigator. Now, he clicked the phone number, which was highlighted in blue, and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” asked a voice on the other end.

“Hi. Is this Niko?”

“Who’s calling, please?”

“My name is Sig Gauthier. You were recommended by my agent, David Malone.”

“Right.” Fingers tapped on a keyboard in the background. “What kind of investigation are you calling about?”

Five months later

Sig let himself into Chloe’s apartment, freezing in place when he saw her standing less than five feet away . . . holding a cake. Covered with lit candles.

Behind her in the kitchen lay a mess of epic proportions. Pans and batter and filthy utensils on every surface. Hell, Chloe herself looked like she’d been doused in flour.

This couldn’t be what he thought it was.

The very possibility weighed him down with so many emotions, he almost turned and walked out of the apartment. Her smile kept him there.

“What is this?”

“It’s your birthday!”

Suspicion confirmed. She’d made him a birthday cake.

Oh fuck.

He’d been stung by a swarm of wasps in the dead center of his chest. He had tremendous balance, but just then, it was deserting him, so he tried to make it look casual when he closed the door and leaned back against it, using it to stay upright.

“You made that yourself, Chlo?”

Dumb question. He’d seen the kitchen. But words were failing him.

“Yes.” She presented the cake higher, proud, but also worried. He could see that. She was worried he wouldn’t like it? “No one ever talks about how hard it is to crack an egg. And then getting the broken piece out of the bowl? It’s like . . . ugh. It just doesn’t want to be caught, you know? Just when you think you’ve trapped that sucker, boom, it’s gone.”

Growing up, his mother had done everything she could to make the day special with limited resources and Sig treasured the memories of those slices of Entenmann’s and cups of grape soda. And his mother had called this morning. But it had been . . . damn. Almost a decade since the last time he’d celebrated his birthday with someone else.

To have it be Chloe?

To have her go to this much trouble?

And yet, he should have expected it from her. Because as much as he tried to do things for Chloe, she supported him, tended to him, in the ways she knew how. Never failing to be at his home games. Sending him audio of her playing the harp after a loss on the road. No words, just song. Just the presence of her—exactly what he needed.

Defending his truck.

Making him ice packs and propping his foot up on her little pillows. Sometimes he didn’t even need ice, he just rubbed a part of his body and winced, hoping she’d fuss over him. He’d never had anyone fuss over him. Chloe did.

I love you. I love you so much. To my dying day.

“It’s the most incredible cake I’ve ever seen in my life, Chloe,” he said, finally finding his voice. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“You should.” She flicked a look at the cake. “Do you really think it’s incredible?”

“Yes.”

She squinted a blue eye. “I definitely didn’t get out all the eggshells.”

“They’ll add texture.”

She laughed, pleasure bringing color to her cheeks. “Blow out the candles. Make a wish.”

Sig leaned down, looking her in the eye while he made the wish. A wish he couldn’t guarantee would ever happen. A wish that seemed to get further out of his reach the more time passed.

I wish for this same exact birthday next year, except you’ll be wearing a wedding ring.

Mine.

Chloe turned on a heel and headed for the kitchen, presumably to cut the cake. “Don’t tell me what it is, or it won’t come true,” she sang over her shoulder.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Chapter Six

Now

“An actual zebra with a whistle would be better at your job, ref!” Chloe shouted at the top of her lungs, her sentiments echoed by the seventeen thousand Boston Bearcats fans in the arena behind her. “How do you sleep at night?”

“If he’s smart? With one eye open,” Tallulah drawled beside her in the front row. “You are easily the most terrifying fan to ever wear a pink, bedazzled, personalized jersey.”

“Thank you,” Chloe whispered, her voice catching a little when Sig used the sleeve of his uniform to wipe away the blood coming from his nose, as casually as one scratched an itch. She slapped the glass partition to get the ref’s attention. “Last time I checked, slashing was a penalty! Did the visitors pay you in cash or Venmo?”

“At least Sig got to punch the other guy in the face,” Tallulah pointed out, even as her gaze remained glued to her fiancé, Burgess Abraham, who defended the crease with his signature scowl.


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