"Tara leaked the story of you dating Coach Wilder. The media is having a field day, spinning it like he was taking advantage of you and they're making you look like the 735/890

bad girl of soccer. Like you wanted to seduce your coach or something."

"Fuck! You've got to be kidding me. Does that girl have nothing to do other than attempt to ruin my life?"

I was beyond angry, tipping toward blind rage. She couldn't leave well enough alone. I should have realized she wasn't done tormenting me.

"And you're sure it was Tara?" Becca asked from her perch on the couch. I hadn't even thought to ask.

Emily mashed her lips together. "She was linked with the story over and over again. It wasn't like she asked to be an an-onymous source. She was interviewed and her photo was added to the story."

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"This is such bullshit!" I yelled, thinking of the girls that had wanted my autograph yesterday. I was a role model to those girls, and now I was no better to them than all the other dumb celebrities dragging their own names through the mud. I didn't want to be like them. I didn't want to be the bad girl of soccer. I wanted to be known for my skills, not who I was sleeping with on the side.

"Tara can go fuck herself," I explained, moving toward the stairs.

Becca hopped off the couch. "Kinsley, are you—"

I held up my hand. "I'm going to go call my mom and see if the PR team my dad has is working on this yet or not."

Once I got upstairs, I opened my laptop and searched for the news stories. Article 737/890

after article came up, each one worse than last. Slut of Soccer was the name of the worst article, posted by a salacious blog that half of America seemed to love to browse everyday.

I didn't have time to let my rage boil.

Tara thought she was messing with an innocent rookie, but I wouldn't stoop to her level.

She wanted me to fight back and talk shit about her in the media because that way she could ride the fame as well.

I'd show her by doing the exact opposite.

I wouldn't let this affect my soccer game. I wouldn't let this affect my relationship with Liam. And I sure as shit wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over that bully.

I called my mom as soon as I closed my door and explained everything to her.

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"Don't worry. I was already dealing with it this morning. I didn't want to notify you in case we could get away with you staying in the dark," she explained.

"Can we sue her for slander?" I asked, pacing my room.

"Well, technically, the facts she laid out were true, albeit skewed in a very negative light. We can't control what people are doing with the story on social media. People want a blood bath; they want to slander you and Liam because some people get off on tearing others down."

I nodded and chewed on my lip. "I should have been smarter about this. I knew she was going to do something like this. I should have put out a statement before she could."

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"There's no use worrying about that now, Kinsley," my mom argued, trying to calm me down.

“Mom, I can’t even leave my house!

There are paparazzi lined up outside!”

"I'll be flying in tomorrow and I've already booked a hotel with top notch security. You'll stay with me tomorrow night and we'll have security at your game so that you can concentrate on what's important."

I sighed hearing the details that she'd already laid out. Holing up in a hotel with my mom sounded like exactly what I needed. I wanted to pretend like none of this was happening. Once we made plans for the next day, I hung up and texted Liam.

Kinsley: FUCK TARA.

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Liam: I just heard— calling my agent +

PR team.

Kinsley: I'm so sorry My phone buzzed in my hand with Liam’s name flashing across the screen. As soon as I answered, his husky voice spilled out over the line.

"Don't you dare apologize. We'll get through this," Liam murmured.

I already missed him. Why had I chosen to leave instead of staying the night with him?

"I know. I just hate that our relationship seems to cause so much damage."

"I don't give a fuck what the world thinks, Kinsley. I'm so happy with you. I’m focusing on what's important. You and soccer. That's all I need."

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I smiled despite the circumstances, recalling what it'd felt like to fall asleep in his arms the night before. He was right. I'd focus on what was important and ignore the rest.

"Okay. My mom's coming in town tomorrow and I'm staying in her hotel with her for the next two days."

"That's a smart idea. Text me the hotel and I'll have a security guard there as well."

I didn't argue. His voice was commanding and I knew that he'd feel better if I agreed.

"Okay. Go call your agent," I said, falling back onto the bed.

"Okay… and Kins," he paused and I heard him take a deep breath, "I really care about you."

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I closed my eyes and soaked up his words. I loved him then. Of course, I loved this guy who would take on the world for me and asked for nothing in return. Well, besides my killer lovemaking.

"I know. We’ll get through this. Sweet dreams," I whispered before hanging up. It was too soon for declarations of love and I wouldn't dare say it during a conversation that had anything to do with Tara. I’d wait for a much better moment than this. Like the next time we're riding through a meadow, naked on horseback.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My mom assured me that the press release was sent late Sunday night, but the media was still relentless on Monday. There was a group of paparazzi waiting for me outside of the house, shouting questions and snapping photos when I left for practice Monday morning. We were forced to practice in an indoor facility down the road from our normal field.

Coach Davis asked me to stay after practice and explained that she and the team were behind me. She said the college sent out their own press release clearing my name and condemning Tara as a “conniving bitch”.

All right, maybe that’s not a direct quote, but still, Coach Davis was on my side and she wasn't going to give up on me yet.

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I was eating room service with my mom on Monday night when my phone rang.

Liam's dimpled smile lit up the screen and I felt my heart flutter.

"Hey babe," I answered with a tired voice.

"Hey, are you at the hotel?" he asked while

street

sounds

drifted

into

the

background.

"Yeah, my mom and I just ordered room service."

"Okay good, I'll be up in a second."

I glanced down at my robe and realized I still had wet hair from my shower.

"Oh... yeah ...okay, see you in a second,"

I said, hanging up and glancing over to my mom.

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"Liam's coming up. I think he might be here already, actually," I admitted with a sheepish smile.

My mom's eyebrows shot up. "I get to meet the infamous Liam Wilder. How exciting," she winked, and then took another bite of her meal.

A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded at our door and I hopped up to go let him in.

As soon as I turned the handle I inhaled his signature scent. He’d just come from practice so his body wash mingled with his sweat and musk. It was oddly seductive and I almost jumped him in the hallway, especially after I pulled the door open and saw his appearance. His light brown hair was unruly and sexy, his soccer shorts showed off his 746/890

tan, toned legs, and his workout shirt clung to his hard chest.