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

save my career, and having Nadia as my agent is more important to me than scratching a sudden itch with her.

She’s not the type to sleep with someone and not let her emotions get involved. While I’m the opposite. I lead with my dick—not my heart.

When this night began, I envisioned taking her out for a late dinner, but here I am, pulling my truck into her driveway. Neither of us had spoken a word the entire drive. Whenever I’d swing a glance her way, she seemed just as lost in her thoughts as I am in mine. Nothing good can come from either of us talking about the tough situation we’re in.

Shifting into park, I don’t shut the engine off. I don’t even get out to walk her to the door like I have been. My manners have flown out the window, and I’m afraid my restraint will be next if I don’t keep my distance from her.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“You don’t need to thank me. That’s what you’re paying me for,” she reminds me.

“Right. Well, I’ll check in with you tomorrow at some point.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for the ride.” She’s out of the truck and the door is closed before I can form a reply.

It’s probably for the best that I didn’t say any more. She bluntly reminded us both that I’m paying her for a job. While the circumstances may be unusual, this is no different than me hiring her to be my agent. She’s providing a service I’m paying her for. No more, no less.

We need to keep this arrangement as black and white as we can. We laid out the rules ahead of time and now we just need to stick to them. I’ll keep my eyes on the prize and smash the shit out of our fake relationship like I do with every goal I set for myself.

10

Nadia

I’ve noticed Flynn and I are starting to attract attention on various social media platforms. Headlines about a mystery woman taming him have caught on like wildfire. I’ve avoided reading the actual posts. I don’t want to know what they’re saying about us. It’ll only stress me out and make me question why I agreed to help Fynn.

After the mini golf event, I’m sure the curiosity and attention is only going to increase. There were a few photographers in attendance snapping pictures the entire time. I also got tagged on Facebook and Instagram by the college girl we met at the sandwich shop after we went clothes shopping. Speaking of his clothes, I think that part of my plan may have backfired on me. Dressing him in khakis was supposed to make him look more respectable and less noticeable. Yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off him during his round of miniature golf. Whose ass looks that good in khakis? It’s a crime for one man to be so attractive and athletic and funny and… Fuck.

Clutching the sides of my head, I give a quick shake, as if it’ll stop me from thinking about Flynn’s good qualities.

Saturday mornings are my favorite at the office. It’s quiet and relaxed with no clients coming in or out. For the most part, it’s usually just me here.

I plug away, answering emails I didn’t get to yesterday. I’m glad for the weekend to be here. I need a break from spending time with Flynn. He acted strange at the end of our “date,” and I was relieved when he brought me straight home. I thought he might want to grab food, and I didn’t want to spend any more time in his company.

Things got a little weird for me at the event. When I say weird, I don’t mean enjoying the way his khakis fit a little too much. I mean complicated.

When Flynn kissed my forehead, it was such a sweet and unexpected gesture, it set my heart aflutter. I physically reacted to his touch and it freaked me the fuck out. I can’t be getting hearts in my eyes and butterflies in my stomach over Flynn. Hell no.

I’m hoping it was an isolated incident. Some weird fluke that’ll never happen again. Maybe ogling his ass for so long caused it.

Wait a minute. Maybe it’s like when guys get porn dick from watching too much porn and they can’t get it up unless they watch more.

Maybe somehow staring at Flynn and all his physical perfection is ruining me for other guys. What if after our agreement is over, I’m never attracted to an average guy again? I don’t want to get Flynn vag.

I press both palms to my hot cheeks. Oh my God. Just thinking about him has made me overheated.

I grab one of my ever present pads of sticky notes and a pen. Like with all problems, there has to be a solution. I just need to figure out what it is.

Okay. Think. Think. Think.

How can I stick to our arrangement without having to spend an exorbitant amount of time in his company?

I can drive myself to and from wherever we have to be.

But if I do that, people will find it strange that we’re taking two cars. And Flynn won’t go for it either. No way.

I can make sure I don’t spend additional time in his company. We can go to the necessary events and then he can take me immediately home. No more eating together on off days or going shopping. Tapping the pen to my lip, I realize this is a solid idea that could work.

I’ll have to come up with plausible excuses for why I need to go home. They’ll need to be believable or Flynn will turn on the charm and wear me down until I change my mind.

My phone’s text alert pings.

Flynn: You’ll be at the game tomorrow, right?

My eyes close and I groan. Speak of the devil. I forgot about the freaking football game. Maybe I can ignore his message and pretend I didn’t get it.

My