Spotlight: Tobey Fine (Sacked & Tackled 1) by Palessa
It’s finally time for the player to get played.
Tobey Fine, the ‘Blasian Sensation’ is at the top of his game as the face of the Miami Medusas, a Steinger Football League team. When he’s introduced to his teammate’s best friend, the Blasian Sensation comes face-to-face with his reckoning.
Niveah Wallace is the founder of Carmicon Technologies, a software development company contracted to do a pilot game app featuring the Miami Medusas and team rivals, the Atlanta Mercury. If this project goes well, it will put CarmTech on the map.
Still smarting from Tobey’s rejection years ago, Niveah is presented with her chance to get back at him—but forgets that revenge can be a double-edged sword.
Despite their initial fallout, Tobey and Niveah grow close in a way neither expected. But inside the SFL there’s trouble brewing as a piece of Tobey’s past threatens to upend his present and jeopardize his future. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his love no matter who he has to fight to do it.
**CONTENT WARNING: Contains adult language, m/m, and sexual situations and is intended for adult audiences only. 18+ Only**
What happened next, she would look back on as the low blow that was her final straw. Just a little before lunchtime the following day, the most delicious tangy sweet smell hit her hard. She came out and saw a man in a puff chef’s hat in front of two circular hot plates. He ladled some white liquid onto one of the plates and carefully spread it out with a flat edge.
She loved crêpes.
Tobey Fine had decided to play dirty and he was not going to get away with it.
She grabbed her phone and called him.
Tobey was just finishing up his set when he heard his phone dance on the bench.
CarmTech. Niveah. Allowing himself to enjoy what he thought was a small victory, he smiled and let it ring for another second before answering.
“Three days,” he spouted.
Taken aback by something other than a ‘hello,’ Niveah responded, “What?”
“It took you three days to call me back. Flowers then lunch from your favorite supermarket deli. You are not easy.”
“My favorite—how the hell did you—” Blake Allan Berrios was a dead man. “I’m going to kill him until he dies.”
“Now that’s not nice.” Tobey was enjoying the frustration he was hearing on the other end of the line.
“What do you want, Tobey?”
“A do-over,” he replied.
“What is this, middle school? You can’t undo that. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Okay, then I want to make it up to you. Properly.”
“Why?” Niveah’s voice was more tender than she meant it to be. A part of her had dreamed that he would say those words but when the moment had come, she didn’t trust it or the man saying it. Seven years was a long time and she wasn’t about to make it easy for him to see how much she wanted this. “Why do you want to make it up to me? It’s over and done. You made it clear and I got the message. So why this?”
Tobey sighed. He heard her tough words and it made him proud for some reason. But underneath all of that, something in her voice was challenging him to prove himself, his intentions. He decided he was up to the challenge. “Because while it took you three days to call me back, you could have just said nothing at all. That means I have a chance to say I’m sorry for what I did and that you’d actually forgive me for being a jerk that night.”
Niveah was prepared for some tired story about how fine she looked now compared to then. She was ready for all of that drivel but not for something so…sincere. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do but maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as she thought after all.
“All right.” She relented before she had a chance to change her mind.
She could practically hear Tobey grinning when he spoke, “Good. Be ready tonight at six. I’ll pick you up.”
“Just tell me where and—”
“I. Will. Pick. You. Up,” he ground out the words to make sure his point was clear.
“Fine,” Niveah mumbled. “Wait, how did you know I was going to even say yes or call today?”
“I didn’t. But since the crêpe chef is going to be in your office for a week, I thought my odds were good.”
“A week?” she screeched.
“Yep. One whole week. In your office. Every lunch.”
That was when Niveah smelled the unmistakable warm sweetness of chocolate, hazelnut, and strawberries. The chef was making one of her favorites.
God help her waistline.
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