CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 by Chance, Jacob (digital e reader TXT) 📕

his name, drawing his gaze to mine. Pain swirls in his blue depths before he steels his gaze once more. “It’s okay to talk about this. You’re not disrespecting your parents.”

He clears his throat. “It’s not that. Thinking about this stuff and speaking about it makes me feel weak, and I don’t like that.”

“Opening up about your past makes you strong, not weak. Have you spoken about this with Kendra?”

“I have, and she feels the same.”

“Does it help that she had the same experience?” I ask.

“Yes and no. Yes, because I didn’t imagine it all. But at the same time, I’d feel better if she hadn’t. I don’t want her to think she’s not worthy of their love.”

“The Kendra I know is a strong, capable young woman. I don’t think you have any reason to be concerned.”

He shrugs. “As her older brother, it’s my job to worry about her.”

This loving, protective older brother is a new side of Flynn I’ve never been exposed to before. It’s endearing to find out this bad boy athlete, who has access to millions of dollars and the world is pretty much at his disposal, worries about his little sister so much. It’s sweet enough to give me a cavity. I find myself smiling at him.

His brows draw together. “What?”

“You’re a good brother. Kendra is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you. I don’t know that she’d agree with you. I think she’s sick of putting up with my bullshit.”

I snort. “Aren’t we all? But that’s on a business level, not a personal one.”

“Yeah, I guess she’s going to enjoy the next couple of months then.”

“Because she’ll get a break from the PR nightmare that you are?”

“Yep. What will she do to stay busy with all the free time she’ll have?”

“Don’t worry, she’ll have her hands full answering questions about us,” I say.

“Speaking of, when’s our next outing?”

I pull out my phone and bring up his schedule. “Looks like we’ll be attending a miniature golf event for Hope House tomorrow night.”

“Tell me a little about what they do,” he says.

“They oversee housing for adults with special needs. The funds raised will be spread amongst all the houses that are run by that agency.”

“Sounds like a great cause, and I don’t need to dress up.” He winks.

“This will be the perfect opportunity for you to wear a pair of your new khakis,” I tell him.

“I can do that, but the sweater isn't happening.”

“Flynn, you looked really good in them.” I try to change his mind.

“I can’t golf in a sweater, Nadia. It’ll restrict my movement and throw off my skills. Plus, it will be too hot. I’m from Boston. If it’s fifty degrees, I want to wear shorts.”

“No shorts allowed. We’re going for a new look. You can wear a collared shirt.”

“Okay. I’ll wear a short-sleeved shirt that’s not a t-shirt, and my khakis.”

I break into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“You said car keys instead of khakis.”

He shakes his head. “No, I said khakis.”

I giggle some more. “You misunderstood. Your accent sounds like you’re saying car keys every time you say khakis.”

He shakes his head. “Let’s get out of here. If we’re golfing tomorrow night, I need to study game film tonight.”

We walk to his truck with our hands joined, and he opens my door for me just like a real boyfriend should.

He may not have felt his parents’ love growing up, but he sure learned how to treat a lady. I’m feeling less worried about our ability to pull this charade off. And mini golfing will give us another opportunity to spend time together in a smaller setting with fewer eyes on us.

9

Flynn

Practice was backbreaking today and every inch of me hurts. All I want to do is shovel steak and potatoes into my mouth and lie on my couch watching TV for the rest of the night. Instead, I took a scalding hot shower, inhaled a protein bar, and picked up Nadia from her place.

Now, we’re in a decent sized crowd made up of professional athletes, city officials, and local television personalities. I can’t show how exhausted I am, or that I’m weak with hunger. Events like this always seem to run when I normally eat dinner, and they have plenty of alcohol but no food to speak of. It’s like they’re trying to encourage outrageous behavior, and I’m embarrassed by how many times I provided the entertainment. Hell, if Nadia wasn’t by my side I’d probably fall into the same old trap all over again.

It’s amazing what a calming presence she is for me. What is it about her that instantly settles the storm residing within me?

Glancing down at her beside me, her small waist enfolded in my one-armed embrace, a sense of pride hits me. She’s a stunning, successful woman, and I’m fortunate to have her with me. Glancing around, I take in all the attention she’s garnering from males and females alike. Everyone can appreciate her natural beauty, especially me.

She turns, gazing up at me. Her dark brown orbs calmly study my face, and it hits me like a three-hundred-pound defensive lineman. No matter what crazy shit I’ve done, I’ve never felt judged by Nadia. I’ve given her many opportunities where she could have. And I’m finally coming to understand how much she’s been my rock all along. I just didn’t realize it.

She leans her head against my chest, still watching me. “By the way, you look very nice in your khakis.”

“Thanks to you.” Smiling down at her, I press a soft kiss to her forehead. Her eyes widen slightly at the unexpected gesture before she straightens up once more, placing distance between us.

“The black polo was a good choice,” she says.

“Flynn,” a local news reporter calls my name, letting me know it’s my turn to play.

“Looks like I’m up. How about a kiss for luck?” Tapping my cheek, I lean down closer to her. I figure there’s a chance this could go either way, but having her