When Dallas Brooke, the youngest NFL Hall of Famer, loses his memory after a serious car accident, he needs help recovering what he has lost. His caretaker? The woman he left three years ago for his career—me—Paige Parker. Somehow, I end up tasked with the job of helping my ex-boyfriend recover, but spending time with someone who used to mean the world to you without them remembering your past isn't easy. Dallas is still the same carefree spirit, even without his memories. How do I prevent my old emotions from crawling up to the surface? And how do I stop him from breaking my heart all over again?
View MoreDallas I’m standing at the altar, and my heart is racing. I swear everyone can hear it thumping in my chest. It’s louder than a stampede of wild animals, louder than any NFL game I have ever played. And at the end of the aisle is Paige, the woman of my dreams. I pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream because there’s no way I could be this lucky... Gabriel sniffles behind me. He is Paige’s best man, while Julian is mine. I don’t know how my teammate Gabriel became such good friends with my soon-to-be-wife, but while planning the wedding, they somehow found each other. Paige’s eyes are locked onto mine, and I can feel the warmth of her love radiating off of her. Her dress—a delicate white lace—hugs her curves in all the right places, and I can’t wait to get my hands on her. Suddenly, she’s there in front of me, and the ceremony begins. I’m not even sure what the priest or rabbi—I can’t remember which one we hired—is saying. All I can focus on is Paige and how lucky I am to have
Paige It’s been a month since the doctor diagnosed me with Gilbert’s Syndrome, and I’m already feeling the benefits of my diet change. Dallas has really helped me stay away from unhealthy sugars and kept me accountable, even though it hasn’t been easy. I love him, though, probably even more than before. He pulls me close every morning with cuddles and kisses before he heads off to the gym—what a sap! I don’t have to worry about Dallas leaving me for some supermodel; he loves me too much. When he is around, I forget all the worries and stress that come with a chronic illness. We spend most of our days sunbathing or swimming. We love trying new restaurants and checking out art galleries to pretend we have some class, and Dallas has promised me we are going back to Sweden pretty soon since I love that country. He is such a sweetheart. With a goofy grin on my face, I follow Dallas’ agent until our seats come into view. There’s a placard sign in my hand, and when Julian’s gaze lands on
PaigeWith a confident smile, I stroll inside the mansion wearing just my black bikini. Dallas is right: I’ve been treating him poorly ever since I stopped eating sugar, and now it’s time to make things right. But instead of giving him an apology through words, I plan on taking him in my mouth and sucking him dry inside his office. He won’t complain, right?I walk up the stairs and don’t even hesitate to push up his office door even though I can hear he is busy. Bright blue eyes meet mine, and my lips curve when I see Dallas sitting in his chair with his phone pressed to his ear. He is wearing a crisp white shirt and is probably about to enter a meeting with his agent after he is done on the phone. It would explain his sudden change of attire.“Hold on a moment, my girlfriend just entered the room,” Dallas brings his attention away from the phone and offers me a smile. “I’m about to be in a meeting, honey. But if you’re hungry, my private chef is downstairs—”His voice trails off when
Paige I grab the keys to Dallas’ car, and we rush out of the house. Since I’m unsure how bad my condition is, I don’t speak a word, and neither does Dallas. We drive to the hospital in complete silence, both of us too scared to say anything. When we arrive, I am quickly taken into an examining room by a friendly nurse, and various tests are run that show my liver enzymes are highly elevated. The doctor informs me that I have a condition called Gilbert’s Syndrome—a mild form of liver disorder—which is entirely manageable with a proper diet and exercise plan and regular checkups. He prescribes some medications for me and provides instructions on how to manage my condition. I’m basically not allowed to eat “fun food” that contains a lot of sugar, like my breakfast cereal and the high-fatty foods that I enjoy. It sucks, but what can you do? After I finish up at the hospital, Dallas drives me back home with his hand squeezing mine over the middle console. I have this strange feeling ther
Paige“And this is the master bedroom,” Dallas waves his hand in the air without much excitement behind his voice, sort of like he is presenting me with something boring while I stare.There isn’t much else I can do. I lost the ability to speak the moment I saw his grand mansion. Like, Jesus Christ. I know his football career took off after we broke up, but this place is insane.“Paige?” Dallas asks in a concerned voice. “Are you okay?”“Umm...sorry, I just...this place is a little much.”He grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Do you like it?”Honestly?I think I’ve entered heaven. I can’t stop gawking. The room is everything you would expect a bedroom belonging to a rich NFL player to be: enormous, opulent, dripping with luxury from wall to wall. Everything is perfectly in its place like it was pulled straight out of an interior design magazine. From the four-poster bed with its crisp white linens and dreamy mattress that looks so inviting that I want to jump straight right. Not to mention
PaigeDallas and I leave the yacht and set foot in Sweden. I’ve never been here before.The streets are filled with people and a lot of new sights. A few men smile or wink at me as they walk past us, but Dallas just clasps my delicate hand in his, drawing it to his lips and placing a sweet kiss on the back to show them I’m his. It’s sexy seeing him get territorial, and I can’t help but blush.He leads us through the Old Town—the buildings are so tall and beautiful, looking like something out of a fairytale book. We pass quaint little shops selling handmade goods from around the world. I stop to admire a dainty little wooden jewelry box made in Sweden, but Dallas simply smiles and tugs me away.I pout. “Hey, I was looking at that!”“You don’t really need it, do you?”“What do you mean by that?!”“Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but you have a history of collecting crap and never actually doing anything with it. It all collects dust inside your apartment.”He isn’t wrong. There is
DallasIf I’d believed I’d get something more than a goodnight kiss by bringing Paige to my bed, I was sorely wrong.As we lay in my bed with her delicate body resting on top of my larger one, it becomes painfully obvious that no matter how willing she appears in her drunkenness, I can’t take advantage of the situation. Not when she is in such a whimsical and befuddled state.“I really like you, Dallas...like, way more than I probably should.” Paige hiccups while drawing a tiny heart around my hardened nipple. She is naked and rubbing her wet pussy against my hard cock. It’s mental torture knowing that I can’t touch or fuck her since she isn’t in a sober enough state to make any decisions.I take a deep breath, which really does nothing to calm my nerves. I’m still as hard as a fucking rock, but I need to play my cards right. If I fuck Paige tonight, then I won’t ever win back her heart.“Dallas...” Paige looks up at my eyes, drunker than ever, and I have to bite back a smile. She nev
HopeTaylor and her friends are still laughing as I push myself off Dallas’ chest. I’m horrified about what I’ve just done, and most of all, I just want to sink through the floor, but despite my wishes, I don’t stand up. The world is spinning, and everything gets even worse when I realize Dallas is fuming.I swallow thickly. “I’m... I’m...” I can’t bring myself to apologize as I stare at my vomit that is all over Dallas’ muscular chest.He doesn’t look happy about it, either.His jaw is clenched tight as he stands up. I’m fully expecting him to yell at me, but surprisingly, he helps me up from the deck. Why is he helping me? I can tell he isn’t happy. I can literally feel the heat radiating from his body, and it’s not from the sun. Yet he hasn’t raised his voice—something the old Dallas definitely would have done.“You okay?” he asks through gritted teeth.I nod, my face hot with shame. “I’m sorry, Dallas. I didn’t mean to—”“It’s fine,” he cuts me off. “Let’s just get you cleaned up.
PaigeI’m sitting below deck with an ugly knitted blanket wrapped around my shoulders, wishing I was anywhere but on this damn yacht in the middle of the ocean.I never knew I was the kind of person to get seasick, but when the yacht bobbles up and down on the water again, I almost throw up. Misery is all around, and Dallas looks concerned when I hug myself.“Are you alright?” he asks from the doorframe, big arms parked over his muscular chest.I scowl. “Let’s see... I’m on a yacht with my ex-boyfriend and his friends, and everyone is excited about the drinking games tonight while I already puked thirty minutes ago. Yeah, I think everything is perfectly fine.”Dallas chuckles at the sarcasm in my voice, and his arms fall into the pockets of his shorts. He isn’t wearing a t-shirt, but it’s not his abs that seize the air in my lungs; it’s the dimples around his mouth. His smile is beautiful enough to disarm me and make me feel like a toothless tiger, especially when he aims it in my dir
PaigeThe first boy I ever loved was Dallas Brooke, the tall and popular football player that every girl in high school wanted to call their boyfriend. Everyone had a crush on him, but unfortunately for all his fans, Dallas was mine, and I was his. We began dating in the first year of high school, but before my college graduation, he broke my heart.That same man—Dallas Brooke—is now standing behind my door and looking down at me with his gorgeous blue eyes. As I look up at him, my heart skips a beat, and I immediately grow bitter. Was he always this stupidly beautiful?Three years later, my heart still doesn’t know whether to cry out in joy at the sight of his face or weep at what we lost.“Dallas,” I say, a little out of breath. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”“I just…”“You just what?” I demand.“I wanted to see you.”I glare at him in disbelief. “You wanted to see me, so you traveled across the country?”“I have a game here tomorrow,” he gauges my reaction, knowing fo...
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