Stud

A Bad Boy Reality TV Romance

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Eden

 

No, no, no…

Seriously…no!

The negative thoughts raced through my mind as I stared at my boss Glenn, hoping I’d misheard him. He’d just announced who the suitor on our dating reality show, The Stud, was going to be this season—the eighth season overall—and I thought I’d heard him say the name Troy Ballard. But there was no way it could be him. Not that Troy Ballard.

No freaking way.

“Can you all hear me in the back?” Glenn called out. “This goddamned room is so echo-ey…anyway, our Stud will be arriving soon. We’ll be getting him prepped before the arrival of the girls. Hopefully this fucking weather clears up so we can get some decent outdoor shots of him for his initial introduction interview.”

“Is it seriously Troy Ballard?” my coworker Candice asked, her blue eyes widening.

Glenn nodded. “The one and only. Starting QB for San Francisco. Great catch for the season, eh?” he said with a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. “This is exactly why I’m the showrunner, guys.”

I glanced down to see that Candice’s hands were practically shaking. She’d always had a thing for NFL players, so it was no wonder she was reacting so strongly. Me? Not so much. In fact, I’d always had a bit of an aversion to football altogether, and Troy Ballard was the exact man I could blame for that.

See, I knew Troy. Or at least I’d known him back in the day…or thought I had, anyway.

My gaze dropped to my feet as all the memories flooded back in.

We’d attended the same high school back in our hometown of Ellis Creek, and he’d been in the grade above me. I’d always known he existed, but as far as I knew he had no clue who I was. And why would he? I was the shy, mousy girl who came from a totally average middle class family, and he was…well, he was a star.

It was well known in our school that he didn’t come from a particularly great family—apparently his mother was in prison and his father had a serious drug problem and a wild temper to boot—but he wasn’t embarrassed by that like some kids might be, or at least he didn’t seem to be. He took it all in his stride and used it to cultivate himself a ‘bad boy’ image, along with building himself up as one of the top footballers in the school.

By the time I started my sophomore year and he was in his junior year, he was a living legend.

Girls practically mobbed him every day, fighting for a chance to hook up with him behind the bleachers, and guys copied him and hung on every word he said, desperately wanting to be part of his group. On top of that, other schools in the area desperately tried to poach him for their football teams by offering scholarships and other deals to get him to move, but he stayed.

Anyway, he was the stereotypical ‘cool boy’—guys wanted to be him, girls wanted to be with him. You get the picture.

Me? Not so much.

I wasn’t the biggest nerd in the world, but due to my quiet, shy nature, I was doomed to be one of the invisible kids. You know, the ones who aren’t necessarily mocked and bullied like some unfortunate kids, but also aren’t spoken to or invited to anything by the cool kids. I guess it wasn’t that bad, though, and I was lucky enough to have one amazing best friend—Blair. But there was no way a girl like me would ever have a chance with someone like Troy.

Until one day, I did.

Before that day, I’d only ever had one experience with him back in sophomore year. I’d dropped a pudding cup in the cafeteria, and my heart immediately plummeted as I waited for the cool kids nearby to start snickering. But that hadn’t happened. Troy was standing right near me, and he knelt down and picked up my—luckily unopened—pudding cup and placed it back on my tray. Then he smiled at me and turned back to his friends, and my heart melted.

Blair had chattered excitedly about that small moment for months. Oh my god, Troy Ballard actually looked at us! And he helped you! He’s sooooooo hot. You’re so lucky, Eden!

Fast forward from that to the last few months of my junior year, and I ran into him again. I’d been working on the school newspaper at that point, and even though I wasn’t really a sports buff, I’d been asked to interview the football coach about an upcoming game against a rival town. I’d been told he was in his office, but when I got there, a senior told me that he’d gone to talk to Troy in the locker room, and I could probably catch him there if I hurried.

I raced over to the locker room without it even occurring to me that a girl shouldn’t be going in there when there could be a bunch of sweaty half-naked football players, but when I stepped in, I found it empty.

Well, almost empty.

Troy was standing beside a locker, shirtless. An obviously-homemade but still intricate tattoo ran down his tanned, sculpted arms, and sweat was beaded on his brow. His pants were slung low on his hips, and his thighs were so muscular that I could see how hard they were through the nylon material. My mouth dried up at the sight.

He was hot as hell.

He turned to the right when he heard the scuffing sound of my shoes, and his eyebrows rose when he spotted me standing there. “Come to check out the goods, huh?” he said, a teasing grin quirking his lips up.

“No…um…sorry,” I managed to choke out, my heart racing a million miles an hour. “I was looking for Coach Kyle.”

“He just left,” Troy replied. “His wife suddenly came down with the flu so he had to go take care of his little boy.”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. “Oh. Okay. Guess I’ll catch him tomorrow instead.”

Troy’s face softened. “What did you need him for?”

“I have to interview him.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re on the school paper, aren’t you?” he replied. “I really liked that article you wrote about our game a few months ago. It was so good that I couldn’t even tell how much you hate football.”

My eyebrows shot up. He actually knew who I was? And he read my articles? Had I taken a wrong turn and stumbled into the Twilight Zone or something?

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He snorted with amusement. “I saw you at the game, taking notes. And honestly, I have never seen someone look so bored.”

A fiery blush was quickly spreading across my cheeks now. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be. Not everyone has to like the same stuff. And like I said, your article was so good that it sounded like it was written by someone who loves the sport.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “I really like writing.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Only someone who loves it would be able to spin something they don’t give a shit about into a decent write-up.”

“Mm,” I said, my brain suddenly too frazzled to come up with a coherent response.

“So when’s the article due?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” I replied, finding my tongue again. “I can just find the coach in the morning.”

Troy shook his head. “He never gets in till pretty late in the morning, and then you won’t have much time to get it all done. But hey, I have an idea.”

“Oh?”

“The editor for the school paper….what’s her name, Cyn?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Well, she’s been begging me to do an interview for you guys for ages. I’ve never gotten around to it, so I bet she’d be way happier with you getting an interview from me than Coach Kyle.”

My pulse was steadier now, but I still felt nervous as hell. I was just waiting for someone to jump out and yell ‘Ha! Just kidding! Troy would never do anything nice for you, he doesn’t even know your name. It was all a prank!’

“Eden?” Troy said when I didn’t respond for a moment, confirming once and for all that he definitely did know my name. I could scarcely believe it. “What do you think?”

“I…yeah, that’d be really great. Thanks,” I said, gulping my fears down. “Where should we do it?”

He gestured to a bench that sat in the middle of the main locker room hall. “Right here is fine. It’s always empty this time of day, so no one’s gonna come in and bother us.”

I sat down and pulled out my notebook and pen, and Troy grinned. “Not using a laptop or anything like that?”

“I guess I prefer to do things the old-fashioned way,” I said.

“I can respect that. Anyway, what do you want to know?”

How to get you as a boyfriend, I thought to myself. “I guess tell me a bit about yourself and your passion for football?” I said instead.

He was happy to answer all my questions, and by the time I was done, I had a pretty decent article taking shape. It was all in shorthand note form, but by the time I got home and typed it all up, I had a feeling it would be a hit. I’d really enjoyed interviewing Troy; I was surprised at how well we got along. It almost felt like we’d been friends for years, even though this was the first time we’d ever spoken to each other.

“Well, that’s about it,” I finally said, wishing I had ten thousand words to fill rather than five hundred, just so I could sit here with Troy for longer. “Thanks so much.”

“No worries. Glad I could help, Eden.”

Him saying my name again reminded me of how utterly odd it was that he knew who I was, and now that I’d talked to him and been around him for twenty-odd minutes, I felt relaxed and bold enough to ask him about it. It was like his whole aura of self-assured confidence had somehow rubbed off on me.

“Actually, one more question,” I said.

“Shoot.”

“How do you know who I am?” I asked. “I mean, I had no idea you knew my name or read my stuff. We don’t exactly run in the same circles,” I added shyly.

He winked. “I make it my business to know the names of the hottest girls in school.”

All the air seemed to fly out of my lungs, and I choked out an answer. “W-what?”

“Relax,” he said with a lazy smile. “You know you’re cute, don’t be so modest.”

“Um…” I said, my voice trailing off. I knew I wasn’t a hideous gargoyle, but I’d never even dreamed that anyone would describe me as one of the ‘hottest girls in school’.

Troy arched one brow. “Or maybe you don’t know,” he said. “Well, you are, trust me. I’ve thought so ever since we first met.”

“But I don’t think we’ve really met properly before today,” I said, certain that he was confusing me with some other girl now.

“Well, you know what I mean. When you dropped something behind me in the cafeteria that time. When I saw you, I just…”

His voice trailed off, and for the first time, I thought I saw Troy looking slightly uncertain of himself. If so, that could mean he liked me…

Surely not.

If it was true, though, and he did like me, then it would be like a real-life magical romance tale for me. I’d always loved romance books and devoured them at every chance I got, and my favorite stories had always been when the strong alpha guy went for the shy, unassuming girl. I guess it was the one fantasy that could be closest to my own life if I was lucky enough.

“You just what?” I asked, needing Troy to finish his sentence so I could decide once and for all whether I was dreaming or not.

“I thought you were hot as hell,” he said. “And c’mon, how do you not see all the guys checking you out?”

Yep, I must be dreaming.

I shrugged with embarrassment, still unable to believe what he was saying. I still definitely didn’t think I was the ‘hot’ type of girl; the girls who I always heard about sleeping with Troy and the other popular guys were all blonde stick-figures with fake tans, shiny red lips and cheerleader uniforms.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think guys did,” I replied, before taking the plunge and beginning to ask the one question that was now plaguing me. “If you really thought that about me, then why did you never…erm…”

“Ask you out?” he said with a grin.

“Well, no…I mean…maybe…” I said, my cheeks heating up again.

He shrugged. “Honestly, I thought you were too good for a guy like me. I’m sure you’ve heard all about me,” he said with a rueful smile. “Oh come on, don’t pretend like you haven’t,” he added when he saw my expression.

“I guess I’ve heard some stuff, but I know what the rumor mill is like. You’ve been nice enough to me today, so you can’t be that bad.”

His eyes left mine and gazed at the lockers in front of us. “Look, Eden, girls like you…smart, nice, and pretty…you shouldn’t be corrupted by hanging around assholes like me.”

“Shouldn’t it be my decision?” I asked, my former boldness returning.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, shouldn’t it be up to me to decide if I want to be ‘corrupted’ or not, as you said?”

As I spoke those words, I already couldn’t believe they were coming out of my mouth. Me, the shy mouse, saying all this stuff out loud to Troy freaking Ballard. Blair was going to die when I told her about this!

Troy looked at me for a moment without saying a word. Finally he nodded. “You got me pretty good there,” he said. “So in that case, what do you say to tomorrow night?”

My heartrate increased by approximately one billion beats per minute as he spoke. Don’t blow this, I thought. This is probably your one shot with a guy like him.

“Sure,” I replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about another interview? Only this time I’ll be the one asking the questions about you.”

He winked, and my heart skipped a beat. “Where?”

“Tom’s Café. At six. I can pick you up first, but I’ll need your address.”

I gave it to him, and that surreal moment was when I’d scored my first date with Troy Ballard.

I’d gone home that day floating on air, still partially convinced it was all a dream, but when the next evening came and he arrived at my house to pick me up in his black Camaro, I knew it was all too real. Blair had squealed with excitement all afternoon as she helped me pick out the perfect outfit, makeup and hair combo, and by seven that evening, Troy and I were enjoying the best date of my life.

The only date of my life at that point, come to think of it.

After that, it snowballed like crazy. Troy and I started seeing each other every day, and for the first time in my life, I was popular. People at school actually knew who I was, and Blair and I were suddenly being invited to all the cool parties and hangouts by the popular people, all because of Troy. My boyfriend. God, that felt so good to say at the time.

Pretty decent for a shy girl who’d never been kissed before!

Troy and I kept going steady, to everyone’s surprise—after all, before me, he’d gone through a lot of girls and seriously broken a few hearts—and three months later, we were still together. He wasn’t at all the arrogant bad boy I’d originally thought he was; he was sweet and kind to me, and he never once pressured me to have sex, because he knew I was still a virgin and was planning on waiting until I knew it was one-hundred percent the right time to lose it.

And then it happened. The moment finally came.

We’d just arrived back to his house after a football game he and his team had won, and he was practically fist-pumping the air in excitement. A scout had been there looking for talent for college recruitment, and he’d kept his eyes on Troy the whole time.

“Babe, I think this is real,” he said as he followed me through the door to the small bungalow he lived in with his father. “That guy only recruits for Division I scholarships. If I get that, you know what that means?”

“What?” I asked.

“It means all of this goes away,” he said, making a sweeping gesture at the faded furniture and old knick-knacks around the house. “I won’t just be some dumbass from a shitty broken home. I’ll be on the way to going pro.”

I touched his shoulder. In the months that we’d been dating, I’d gotten to know the real him and discovered how sensitive he was about his not-so-stellar family life. “Troy, you’re not a dumbass. It’s not your fault that your parents are the way they are.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. You mean you’ll be able to get away from all the bad stuff and make a good life for yourself,” I said softly.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then looked me in the eye. “Hopefully with you.”

My heart soared, and I knew it was the right moment.

I looked into his eyes, and I knew that he knew what I was thinking. Without another word, he swept me into his arms and carried me to his bedroom, and in his double bed, we made love for the first time.

He placed me down softly on the sheets, and then we kissed, our hands stripping each other of our clothes. He groaned softly, his bright blue eyes drinking in my curves, and his right hand twined with mine while his other one lingered on my breasts, moving slowly down towards the spot no man had ever seen or touched before.

Then his lips were on mine, crushing against my mouth and threatening to devour me with his kiss, and right then and there, he slid inside me, filling me with a mixture of pain and pleasure as he took my virginity with one hard thrust. The stinging pain had quickly been replaced with nothing but heated bliss, and in those moments as my first ever orgasm wracked me with pleasure, I knew I’d never want to be with another man. I loved Troy, and I was sure he loved me too.

I was a fool.

A stupid, immature seventeen year old fool who thought she knew it all.

Only a week later, Troy was gone without a word, and I was left wondering how on earth I could’ve been so freaking stupid. If he’d actually ever loved me like I thought he had, then where on earth was he? Why had he left me?

I guess once he’d finally gotten me into bed a few times, he lost all interest; the thrill of the chase was finally gone. We’d had sex every day in the week after he took my virginity, and then on the Friday of that week, it was like he vanished into thin air. No messages, no calls…nothing. I later found out he got the college football scholarship he wanted and took off on the bus early in the morning on the day he stopped talking to me.

I cried every day for a whole month when I realized he was really gone.

Even when that month was over, I was still devastated, but by that stage I felt numb and could no longer cry. A year later, I finished my senior year of high school, just like Troy had twelve months before, and at my graduation, all I could think was, ‘Why? Why isn’t he here?’ I barely even cared that I’d finished with a 4.0 GPA and offers from several great colleges.

With my parent’s encouragement, I went to Berkeley and studied journalism and media, seeing as I’d always loved writing, and that was how I ended up with my first real job as a junior producer on The Stud. The reality show sold the idea of true love and romance to millions of enthralled viewers, and everyone I knew thought that working on it was the perfect career path for me, given my old obsession with romance books and the idea of true fairytale-style love.

Too bad it was all bullshit.

After Troy left me all those years ago, I’d given up on the idea of romance and pushed my entire book collection to a box in the back of my closet, and as for the show….well, the show was all fake. None of the suitors or contestants were looking for love; they were just out for fame and attention, and most of the drama and romantic scenes were instigated by producers for good ratings. But hey, it paid the bills.

Overall, I’d been wrong in my earlier years. The concept of romance was actually all total bullshit. There was no such thing as Prince Charming, and he wasn’t going to come along and sweep me off my feet to live happily ever after.

While it sounded petty and silly for me to be so jaded seeing as I’d only been a teenager when I came to this conclusion, I still blamed Troy for my attitude. I’d dated other guys since him, of course, in the seven years since I last saw him, but it had never been the same. I was closed off to trusting men now, out of a fear that I’d be left brokenhearted again, and that kind of general mistrust of men wasn’t exactly conducive to a healthy, committed relationship.

I’d long since figured that one day I’d sort myself out and stop being so cagey about guys, but for the time being, I was happy to just focus on my career and nothing else. At least that couldn’t get up and leave me with zero notice.

“Eden! Psst.”

My head snapped up, and I came crashing back to reality as the old memories faded into the back of my mind again. Candice was waving her hand in my face.

“Sorry, I totally zoned out for a minute,” I said. “What’s up?”

“He’s about to arrive! Wren just came in and said the limo is pulling up,” she replied, her voice laced with excitement. “Troy Ballard! Oh my god, I still can’t believe he’s the Stud this season. I could just die.”

“I can’t believe it either,” I muttered. “I think I could just die too…”

But not in the same way you mean it, I thought bitterly.

Maybe I could mention my past with Troy to our boss Glenn, and he’d see it as a conflict of interest and call his contacts to assign me to another show on the network. Then again, this was the only show I’d ever worked on, so it was more likely that he’d just tell me to suck it up, get over my stupid high school drama, and get on with the job.

As I should do, I thought to myself glumly. It really was high school drama, and if I wanted to be taken seriously as an adult in this line of work, then I needed to act like a professional and get over all my crap from the past. I couldn’t think of anyone else I knew who was still hung up on some asshole who’d hurt them years ago.

“I thought he was still dating that model. You know, the blonde Isobel’s Secret one? Emma something-rather. I guess they broke up, though.”

Candice was still chattering beside me, and I raised my eyebrows. “Who was dating her?” I asked.

She gave me an exasperated look. “Troy Ballard. The guy we were literally just talking about. What’s with you today?”

“Sorry. Got a splitting headache,” I said.

She gave me a sympathetic look. “That sucks. I have some Advil somewhere,” she said. “I’ll get it in a minute. Anyway, what do you actually know about Troy?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “Other than that he’s an NFL player. I guess I’ll have to read the whole dossier on him when Glenn hands out the copies.”

Truthfully, I’d been following Troy’s life and career for a while now, ever since I opened the newspaper one day and saw an article about how he’d gone pro after college. He played for a San Francisco-based NFL team, and he’d gone the same route as many other hot young star players with too much endorsement money to burn. He partied in the off-seasons like no one was watching, despite the fact that the media was always watching, and according to the gossip sites, he went home with a different socialite, actress or model at least once a week.

Probably every day, more like it.

He’d also been arrested for a DUI a couple of years ago, which he’d somehow luckily managed to worm his way out of. I guess he took after his father more than he’d ever wanted to admit he could, as much as that fact saddened me.

If he wasn’t such a great football player, then his wild antics might’ve gotten him thrown off his team a while ago, or at least knocked down to second string, but he was a beast on the field, and the team coaches had stated several times in the past that he was an invaluable asset. He’d led San Francisco to win the championship two years running now, and for those people who were inclined to make bets, he was heavily tipped to do the same in the next season.

“All right everyone, here he comes,” Glenn said from the front of the room. “Get to know this handsome face, because he’s your main priority from this moment onwards.”

As he spoke, the main door to the briefing room opened, and in stepped Troy, flanked by his assigned producer, Wren, and two studio assistants who’d been tasked with showing him around.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “Thanks for having me.”

As everyone began to fawn over him, his lips curled into his trademark smile; the same cheeky smirk his fans adored. They all thought it made him look like a lovable bad boy, but I thought it made him look like an arrogant prick. My face turned hot as I looked down at the floor, trying not to draw his attention to me.

Then again, if he saw me, maybe he’d feel guilty for what he’d done. The thought made me feel slightly satisfied—as much as I could be under the circumstances, anyway—and I looked back up to see him shaking hands with Glenn before moving down the room to say hi to other people. He nodded at Candice, who was still next to me, and she barely suppressed a squeal of excitement as she introduced herself. Troy’s gaze then moved to me, ice-blue eyes roaming all over my curves, and I stared boldly up at him without moving.

“Hi, Troy,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice from quavering.

My heart thudded, and as I stood there, I was reminded why my stomach used to do flip-flops whenever I saw Troy in the school halls, long before we’d ever been together. Long before he’d broken my heart. His gaze finally came up from my cleavage to rest on my face, and I waited for the inevitable flicker of recognition to cross his features.

It never came.

His gorgeous eyes glazed right over as he nodded a brief ‘hello’ to me, as if he honestly had no idea who I was, and then he quickly moved on to another producer.

Wow. I couldn’t believe it. After all the heartbreak, all the tears I’d shed, and all the years I’d spent not being able to trust because of this man….

He didn’t even remember me.