Scored
A V Card Diaries Novel
Lili Valente
All Rights Reserved
Copyright Scored © 2022 Lili Valente
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This e-book is licensed for your personal use only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy hot, sexy, emotional novels featuring firefighting alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work. Cover design by Kelly Lambert Greer. Image copyright Wander Aguiar.
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Contents
Scored
About the Book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Sneak Peek
About the Author
Also by Lili Valente
Scored
A V-Card Diaries Novel
* * *
By Lili Valente
About the Book
Begging my brother’s best friend—aka NHL superstar, Ian Fox—to help me ditch my V Card wasn’t part of my “make it big in NYC” plans.
* * *
But after years of being “cute little Evie,” I’m tired of waiting for Mr. Right. I’m ready for Mr. Right Now and Ian is everything I’ve ever wanted in a first time. He’s kind, funny, confident, and has a legendary…stick.
* * *
Seriously, his stick has its own page of search results, complete with gray sweatpants shots hot enough to make even a clueless virgin drool.
* * *
And yes, my brother will murder us if he finds out, but we’re both grownups.
* * *
We can keep a secret. We have to since I just landed an art therapy job working with his troubled team.
* * *
All we’re doing is a little practice. (Or…ehem...big practice.)
* * *
Too bad my heart didn’t get the memo.
Prologue
DEAR DIARY
Evie
* * *
Dear Diary,
* * *
Three months! Just three months until I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin. As if being a twenty-three-year-old virgin isn’t bad enough. At this point, I only have sixteen years until I’m old enough to be the star of a HYSTERICAL romantic comedy about having the oldest V-Card on the planet.
And sure, sixteen years is a long time, but look how fast the past sixteen years have zipped by. It seems like just YESTERDAY I was turning eight years old. Maybe the day before yesterday, but you get it.
I can still remember the smell of the scented markers I got for my birthday and how Dad freaked out when I gave myself “tattoos” all over my face with them.
Ugh, I wish I had a pack of scented markers right now. Cam is experimenting with collard greens in the kitchen. The entire apartment smells like death, covered in lemon juice and the bitter zest of dying dreams.
I know, I’m being dramatic.
I’m just so tired of being overlooked, ignored, or passed by for someone with a better sex vibe. Or…any sex vibe.
Maybe Vince was right. Maybe I’m about as sexy as a lump of cold mashed potatoes, covered in collard green slime.
If so, I’m not sure what to do about it. How does one develop a sex vibe, Diary, and do high heels have to be involved? Like so many things that are supposed to make you beautiful and attractive to the opposite sex, heels just…hurt.
Am I crazy to think that beauty and sex-vibing shouldn’t have to hurt?
Yes?
No?
Heavy sigh…
I continue to be disappointed with your lack of answers, Diary.
Please remember to hurl yourself into a fire if I meet an untimely end, okay? I don’t want my legacy to be a journal filled with whining about my hymen. Ha! We should write a song—“Whinin’ ’Bout my Hymen.” Or YOU should write it. I’m a visual artist, not a musical one.
So, get on that, okay? If you’re not going to answer questions, you can at least spend your free time wisely.
* * *
Virginally Yours,
Evie
Chapter One
Evie Eleanor Olsen
* * *
A (nearly) twenty-four-year-old virgin
about to be disemboweled by a colored pencil
* * *
This is it, I guess.
This is how I die.
I always hoped I’d die in bed, surrounded by loving children and grandchildren—or at the very least that there wouldn’t be large amounts of blood involved—but you don’t always get what you want.
I learned that a long time ago.