Stay: A WAGs Novel by Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy

Author:Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy [Bowen, Sarina & Kennedy, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-06-20T07:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Property Of Matthew Eriksson

Hailey

It’s a few minutes before eight o’clock when I pick up an envelope from the Will Call window at the stadium. I expect to find a ticket inside, but instead it’s a plastic card with my name on it in shiny letters.

“For the use of: HAILEY TAYLOR EMERY” it reads.

Below that it says “Property of: MATTHEW ERIKSSON.”

How oddly they’ve phrased it. Property of. I know they mean the card, but it sounds like they’re referring to me. There’s also a creamy business card which reads only: “Suite 7.”

“Good evening, miss,” a guard tells me when I show him the card. “Enjoy your evening.”

“But I don’t know where I’m going.”

“Ah.” He smiles. “First time? You’ll need to take the escalators in that direction.” He points. “Your card will activate the turnstile. Then read the plaques on the doors. If you’re spending time with the WAGs, you should know that the strawberry daiquiris are strong.”

“Thanks,” I say, hoping it will make more sense when I find the right spot. I get on an escalator, which slowly lifts me away from the madness in the rest of the stadium.

Since leaving Matt’s apartment earlier in the day, I feel I’ve done a first-rate job of pretending that everything is normal. It isn’t, though. Stopping by Matt’s apartment for earth-tilting sex is not normal. Even if I kissed him goodbye and nonchalantly pulled on my clothes again, my inner Hailey was still chanting, Oh. My. God. And, Did that really just happen?

In the office, Jenny had swarmed, trying to get the story. But I didn’t yield. I need a little time to make sense of the day’s events and how I feel about them.

And then there was Tad! He’d stuck his head into my office late this afternoon. “So you’re, like, dating Matt Eriksson?” he asked tentatively.

“I…don’t really know,” I’d admitted. Even though I just had naked, dirty sex in his bed after our coffee date. “I’m a little confused about the whole thing.”

Tad laughed. “Hope you figure it out, then.”

So did I.

As the escalator climbs higher, I try to see today from Matt’s perspective. We’ve been on one date, where we made out at an opera and in the back of a hired car. Then he made me dinner and we were interrupted before he got the big payoff he was probably expecting.

So today he came looking for it. I gave it to him. And tomorrow at five in the morning he’s headed to the West Coast for a four-game road trip—the longest of the season. I’d checked.

It’s anyone’s guess whether he’ll still be interested in me when he returns to town after his trip.

The escalator takes me to a long, curving corridor. Then there’s a turnstile in my way. I wave the plastic card with my name on it, and the glass barrier slides aside to let me pass. I follow the corridor. Elegant wooden doors every twenty feet or so, each with a brass plaque. The first ones I pass have the names of financial institutions on them.

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