[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE.
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Hannah Walker doesn't trust anyone, especially men.
They're manipulative and toxic - her lousy ex taught her that lesson well.
Enter Tristan Beckett, the embodiment of everything she despises. He's arr...
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"What do you mean you won't be able to come this weekend? I only get to see you once a week. You can't take that time away from me."
"It's just one weekend, mom. I'll see you the weekend after," I replied with a sigh.
"But I told all my friends you'd be attending the annual children's charity event at the church. Cheryl was going to introduce you to her son. He's an engineer, you know. And very involved in the church. He's a lovely young man."
Well, in that case, I was really glad I wasn't going. If there was anything worse than choking down my mom's terrible cooking — it was going to all those church events that inevitably became a way for my mom to try and hook me up with one of the members or their kids. I wasn't super religious, and she believed that all I needed was a devout partner to guide me back to faith. I respected her beliefs, but they just weren't for me.
"It's your dad, isn't it? You're visiting him this weekend, and you just don't want me to know," her voice was laced with hurt as she threw the accusation at me.
"Not everything's about Dad. I'm just going out with a few friends to this... thing," I winced, knowing that was the wrong thing to say.
She immediately assumed the worst. "What 'thing'? That sounds dangerous. Will there be drinking or drugs?"
Drinking? Definitely. Drugs? Probably. What's important is that I'd only be doing one of those things and in moderation.
"No, no," I stressed, "Think of it as a... camping trip. We're taking some tents and food for a weekend under the stars. No one's doing drugs, I promise."
Well, technically. I certainly knew Tristan wasn't going to be taking any. Come to think of it, he never drank any alcohol so I didn't even know if he was going to be drinking.
Her concern continued as she asked, "You'll call me every day, right? I need to know you're safe."
"How about I text you instead? I'll check in twice a day," I bargained.
"How will I be sure it's really you messaging me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Why would anyone else message you specifically from my phone to tell you I was doing fine? Please don't worry, mom. My friends are pretty responsible — everything's gonna be fine."
It took another fifteen minutes to convince her that I wasn't going to get murdered this weekend. I was mentally exhausted when she finally let me hang up. That's why when my phone rang again, I sighed, thinking it was her. But I was pleasantly surprised to see Bailey's name on my screen. I answered without any further hesitation.
"Hey, there, Sugartits," she purred.
I laughed. "Sugartits?"
"Some crackhead at the 7/11 called me that, and I laughed so much I peed a little. You should have seen his face — he looked like he thought I belonged in a mental hospital," she snorted.
