The Turnover: Branston Bandits #1

1. The Calm Before the Score

1

Tessa

Ilove the smell of Arabica in the morning. And in the afternoon. And in the evening.

I inhale deeply, breathing it in as I survey my kingdom with a satisfied smile. Beans & Books was my dream from the moment I took my first sip of that pure liquid gold at fourteen. It combines my two favorite things––coffee and reading.

When Mayor Thompkins announced he wanted to revitalize Sublime’s downtown square and that the city would offer grants to help with renovation costs for new businesses seven years ago, I took the leap. And I haven’t regretted it for a second.

Bookshelves line the far wall from one end of the shop to the other, a library of sorts that feeds every interest. Gently used couches and chairs I’ve picked up at garage sales over the years pepper the space, as well as the usual bistro sets you’d find in any coffee shop. A large fireplace sits cold and empty on the back wall, ready to house cheery, warm flames when the dog days of summer end and the chill of winter encroaches.

This is my happy place. My dream come true.

“Did you hear the news?”

My ears perk up as I grab a rag and move down to clean the bar near where John and Luke Sumner are sitting. The brothers come in every day and sit at the end of the bar on wooden stools, gossiping like schoolgirls even though they’re both in their seventies. They always have their ears to the ground, soaking up gossip and spreading it like it’s their civic duty. And since this is their favorite spot to talk shit, I know everything that goes on in Sublime.

“The Bandits signed Riggs Malone,” Luke goes on, slapping his palm to his knee as he cackles with glee.

I go rigid, my fist tightening around the rag until my knuckles turn white. The old men are oblivious to my reaction, going on to extoll Malone’s prowess on the field, his superb ball-handling skills, and the prediction that by the time he retires from football, he’ll go down in history as the greatest of all time. How he’s so intense and focused on the field, the entire stadium goes quiet as he rears back to throw the long pass. The football world calls it The Calm Before the Score.

“Did you hear that, Tessa?”

I snap out of the catatonic state I’d fallen into and force my hand to move as if the news hadn’t affected me in the least.

“Riggs Malone is coming home,” John says, narrowing his pale blue eyes at me. “You went to high school with him, right?”

“I think so,” I say, my tone nonchalant though my heart pounds against my ribs chaotically. “I didn’t really run with his crowd, though.”

“Funny,” Luke says, cocking his head to study me as if he can see all my secrets. “I seem to remember seeing you two run around town together for a while. Didn’t he buy you an ice cream cone at Jonesy’s one night?”

Jesus fucking Christ, the man has the memory of an elephant.

I purse my lips and shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah,” John says to his brother, slapping his hand onto the bar with a loud smack. “I remember you telling me you saw the two of them, all cuddled up on the same bench of a booth in the back. ‘Sweet as sugar,’ you said. Holding hands and giving each other the goo-goo eyes.”

“I think you both are going senile,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I hear B vitamins are good for the memory.”

I’m bluffing, and the matching looks they shoot me prove they know it. I did have ice cream with Riggs Malone. More than once. But fuck if I want to talk about it.

Over the years, I’d managed to push those memories from my recollection. Packed them into a little box and sealed it with duct tape and super glue. Pushed that box to the deepest recesses of my mind to never be thought of again.

But a few words from these two undid all that hard work over the course of a few seconds. Memories of that time wash over me, and my hands start to shake. I drop the rag to the counter and head to the ladies’ room, grateful to find it empty. Bracing my hands on the edges of the sink, I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

“You are not that same girl,” I grit between clenched teeth. “You’re a grown woman. Strong. Independent. Successful. He doesn’t have the power to hurt you, anymore.”

Inhaling deeply, I blow the breath out between loose lips and turn on the cold water. Wetting my palms, I pat my cheeks and forehead a few times, the chill easing the heat under my skin. As I lift my eyes back to my reflection, I don’t see my dripping face.

All I see is him.

Twelve years ago…

“Hey, Tessa.”

I lift my gaze from the pages of my current read, my eyes widening as Riggs Malone takes the chair next to me. He sets his plastic tray of tasteless cafeteria food onto the table in front of him before swinging his backpack off his shoulders and dropping it to the floor with a loud thunk.

I look around, sure there must be a new student with my name sitting nearby. When I see no one, I look back at Riggs to see him smiling at me gently.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” he asks with an impish grin, his dimples popping out in all their adorable glory.

“Hello,” I say, flinching when my voice cracks on the word.

“Watcha reading?” he asks, dipping his head as he reaches over to lift the cover of my book.

His fingers brush against mine, and I inhale sharply at the contact. What in the hell is happening? Why is Riggs Malone, a senior, talking to me? He’s captain of the football team, for fuck’s sake. And I’m, well…me.

“Captain of Her Desires,” he says with a low whistle, his eyes widening as he takes in the bare-chested male model holding a skimpily-clad woman on the deck of a nineteenth century ship. “Tessa, you dirty, dirty girl.”

His smile lets me know he’s only teasing me, but my cheeks heat, anyway. I’ve never been embarrassed by my reading preferences, but having Riggs Malone call me out like this? I wish I had the power to turn invisible. Or teleportation. Yeah, that would be handy right now.

“Hey, I was just kidding,” he says when I don’t respond, his smile dropping. “My mom reads these books all the time. Have you read ‘Embrace the Wild’ by Danica Stewart? She says it’s her favorite.”

“I love Danica’s books,” I say, feeling some of the tension ease out of me.

Riggs seems to relax, too, and the grin returns to his face. “Hey, what are you doing Friday night?”

“Why?” I ask, suspicion making my muscles coil once more.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and do something fun. Have you ever tried cosmic bowling at the lanes in Branston? They turn off all of the lights and everything glows. The balls, the pins…everything. The music is good, and they have the best cheese fries you’ll ever eat.”

“Wait,” I say, my face screwing up with incredulity. “Are you asking me out?”

“I think so,” he says, stroking his chin for a moment, then nodding. “Yes, I’m definitely asking you out, Tessa White.”

“But…why?”

I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. I mean, I don’t think I’m ugly, or anything. But I’m not one of those gorgeous creatures that hang all over the football team, hoping for a chance to be seen on the arm of one of Sublime High School’s elite. I don’t wear makeup, my clothes are comfortably unfashionable, and I always have my head in a book.

And Riggs? Well, he’s Riggs Malone. Enough said.

Why in the hell would the hottest, most popular guy in school want to go out with me?

“Stop looking at me like that,” Riggs says, his mouth dropping into a frown.

“Like what?” I ask, snapping out of my mental checklist of why this can’t possibly be happening.

“Like you think it’s impossible that a guy like me could be interested in a girl like you,” he says, shaking his head slightly.

“Isn’t it, though?” I respond.

“I like you, Tessa,” he says. “I always have. I’m just sorry it took this long for me to work up the nerve to ask you out.”

“You…work up the nerve…what?”

I feel like I’m in some alternate universe where the English language is an enigma, and the words don’t mean what I think they mean. How is Riggs Malone asking me out at all, much less saying he had to work up the nerve to do so? Am I crazy? Is this some delusion I’ve succumbed to, and I’m actually drooling in a padded room somewhere, my arms immobilized by a straightjacket?

“Go out with me,” he says, his hand snaking out to cover mine on the table. “Please, Tessa.”

And with that single touch, my common sense and justified suspicion evaporate. Riggs Malone is touching me, looking at me with desperation in his dark eyes like he’ll crumble to dust if I say no.

And shit, why would I even consider saying no to a date with him? I must be fucking crazy.

And if this is a wild delusion, I hope I never wake up.

“Okay. Yes.”

“Yes?” he asks, his face lighting up like a disco ball on New Year’s Eve.

“Yes,” I say, a laugh bursting out of me.

“Give me your phone,” he says, removing his hand from mine and holding it out expectantly.

I dig the device from my pocket and hand it over. He taps at the screen, his white smile wide and beautiful, then nods as his own phone chimes in his pocket. Handing mine back to me, he gives me one firm nod.

“It’s a date. I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday night.”

He shoots me one last dazzling smile before digging into his food. I thought he’d leave to go sit with his friends, but no, he stays right where he is and chows down as I hold my phone in a limp grip. I study the screen, seeing a text message he sent to himself.

Tessa: Date night Friday at 8. Don’t be late, loser.

Another laugh titters out of me, and Riggs’ closed-lip smile widens as he chews his food. I return the smile, and warmth builds in my chest.

I’m going on my first real date, and it’s with Riggs Malone.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.