Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
But the real way I can tell it’s Ellie is the outfit. She’s wearing a cheerleader costume. A tiny, pleated skirt, a cute sweater, and a pair of pom-poms.
Well, later we have to role play naughty cheerleader and dirty football player.
I wave to her, then blow her a kiss.
When the game ends, I kiss her again, in the stands.
Then in the corridor.
Then at home, where she’s the naughtiest cheerleader there ever is.
And to think I was determined to focus only on football this season. But I like playing ball even better when I have Ellie to come home to.
EPILOGUE
A Month or So Later
Ellie
One night in the fall, when Brooke’s out of town for work, I meet Rachel and Maddox for dinner and ping-pong. It’s the night of the Fabio’s List premiere. We don’t watch it. I don’t want to watch it.
It’s part of my past, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I did, however, already see my interview. The producer sent me an advance clip.
It was short and simple, and the segment was titled Moving On. “I credit my friends with helping me. They were there for me, and they helped me to see the signs. I’m grateful for them, and now I’ve fully moved on. I’m with a great guy,” I’d said.
“What’s he like?” the producer asked off camera.
“He’s the ultimate good guy,” I said with a smile.
Gabe is a good one, through and through. But at night, he’s very, very bad. And that’s just the way I like it.
I head to the ping-pong table and catch up with my friends, where Maddox tells us the latest on his love life.
Well, not everything. He’s a private guy. But suffice to say, I’m eager for any details he’ll share.
I settle onto my couch with my guy and my dog and a bowl of popcorn. It’s been months and months of hard work and long hours and chewed nails, but it’s finally time.
It’s premiere night for The Dating Games.
The opening credits roll and when Created by Ellie Snow scrolls across the screen, Gabe hoots and hollers.
“That’s my woman,” he says, then smacks a kiss onto my cheek.
I’m lit up like fireworks as the show begins. It’s surreal watching it on screen, knowing others are watching it too.
The next day, I find out just how many.
I believe the proper measurement is a fuck ton.
Enough that once the ten-episode season ends a little later, Webflix renews it.
But I’m not the only one having a good fall. In December, I round up my friends to head to the Mercenaries stadium, where we watch my boyfriend catch two touchdowns and nail a playoff spot.
He’s celebrating on the field, but then he runs over to the sidelines, hoists me over the stands and onto the field, and kisses me madly.
“You made this the best season ever. I love you,” he says, quiet but loud enough for me to hear above the noise of the crowd.
“I love you too,” I say, so damn glad I took the good guy challenge for this great man.
FINAL EPILOGUE
Ellie
All the stockings are hung by the chimney with care. I adjust one over the mantel, liking the way it looks in my home. Well, it’s almost our home now since Gabe is here nearly every night. Gigi stretches her legs behind her on the couch, posing frog style, the cutie. I walk over, since I can’t resist giving her a little chin scratch. “It looks good, don’t you think?”
It looks fabulous like it always does, I imagine she says.
A few presents sit under a little Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. Most are for Gigi since she loves her stuffed toys. Killing them that is.
Gabe and I decided to donate to each other’s favorite charities as gifts. He picked animal rescue for me, and I picked youth sports for him.
I savor the holiday view for another few seconds, until the sound of his shoes clicking across the floor grows louder. He must have just finished getting ready for the holiday party. He had a practice that ran late.
“Hey sweetheart. You ready?” he calls out.
I turn around and…wow. My guy is looking sharp and sexy in trim jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. His stubble is working its magic on my libido.
But then again, Gabe works his magic on my libido all the time.
When his gaze meets mine, he stops in his tracks. His eyes roam up and down my body as he whistles in appreciation. “Damn woman,” he says.
I smile at him, pleased he likes what he sees. “Glad you approve,” I say, jutting out my hip. I’m wearing a simple red dress.
The dress isn’t racy. It isn’t showy. But I feel good in it, especially with his gaze on me.
“It’s a wonder I kept my hands off you at that first eggnog party,” he says, closing the distance and putting those fantastic hands all over me, curling them around my hips, sliding up my sides, then around my back.