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

a handful of dates and we enjoy each other’s company. That’s hardly a marriage guarantee.” If she only knew how silly what she’s saying really is she’d want to kick my butt.

“I think I’m right, and I’ll remind you of this conversation when you have his ring on your finger,” she says with confidence.

“Ha.” I laugh. “There’s no way that’s going to happen.”

“You can name your first daughter after me.”

An unbidden image of a dark haired little girl with sparkling blue eyes appears in my mind and I push it aside. My future was laid out long ago, and Flynn is not a part of it. I need to stick with my plan.

* * *

I wait for Flynn in the same place I did after last week’s game. When I catch sight of him walking toward me, he looks elated. The Pirates won by ten points, solidifying their place at the top of their division.

“Hey, congratulations.”

He grins even wider. “Thanks. That was a lot of fun.”

“You looked like you were enjoying every minute of it,” I say. He catches hold of my hand and we walk toward his truck at a leisurely pace.

“How do you feel about going out for a couple of drinks with the guys?” he asks.

“What are you going to do?” I smirk.

He laughs. “Ah, the lady’s got jokes.”

I preen, tipping my head from side to side. “Occasionally.”

“Unfortunately for you, I’ll also be there. Are you up for going out?”

I’m sure he doesn’t want to just go home and sit inside for the rest of the night. It’s still early. He wants to be with his teammates and celebrate their victory. Do I really need to be there? He is paying me to make sure he behaves, so I guess I better go.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

“You don’t need to lie, Nadia. I know you’d rather go home and line up your pens and pick out your clothes for tomorrow, or whatever it is that type A personalities do on a Sunday night.” He releases his hold on me, playfully bumping me with his hip. Clicking the truck’s remote, he unlocks and then opens the passenger door. Two large hands close around my hips, lifting me onto the leather seat.

“Well, that was unexpected,” I say.

Leaning forward, he smiles, entering my personal space as he fastens my seatbelt. The scent of his woodsy soap and cologne mixed together wafts around me like a giant cartoon bubble I’m trapped inside of. There are definitely worse places I could be stuck. He backs away, closing my door, and I drag the heavenly fragrance deep into my nostrils while I’m still alone.

He slides into the driver’s seat and my eyelids flip open. He doesn’t need to know he smells so delicious, or that I was trying to breathe his scent deep into my soul like some creeper.

We’ve barely driven down the street when Flynn pulls into a parking lot.

“This is one of our regular game day hangouts,” he explains when we’re walking inside the sports pub.

“I thought you guys preferred going to clubs,” I say.

He pauses, craning his neck, looking around. “We usually end up at a club when we have the game on Sunday night. But when we’re done early like tonight, we like to come here. The beers are cold and the food is amazing.” He tugs on my hand. “Come on. I see a couple of the guys.”

We take seats at a large, round table in the back corner of the space with Darren and Nixon, a player I’ve never met. Flynn takes care of the introduction, and he seems like a friendly sort with an easy smile.

Flynn drags my chair closer to his, leaning in to speak next to my ear. “Back here is less visible than some of the other seating. This is our usual spot and the owner saves it for us.”

I don’t dare to turn my head. If I do, it’ll place our faces close together—place our mouths a whisper apart, and that can’t happen.

My eyes wander around the bar, scrolling over all the sports paraphernalia. “That’s nice of him. He must respect your privacy then. Some bar owners might use your patronage to their advantage.”

“Not Arthur. He’s an older dude and fairly private himself.” He drapes his arm on the back of my chair, pressing against my upper back. I’m sitting stiff-necked, afraid to move, and I’m taking shallow breaths because his scent is all around me.

Who needs alcohol? I think I could get a buzz off Flynn’s nearness alone.

More of their teammates wander in with Levi and Kendra among them. She waves my way, her smile bright on her pretty face. Levi pulls out her chair, and I notice a tight pinch to Darren’s lips as he watches them. When Kendra laughs at something Levi says, Darren’s eyebrows dip downward, lowering like dark storm clouds. Does he have feelings for Kendra? And if he does, is Flynn aware?

“Guys, you know Nadia,” Flynn says, pulling me out of my ruminations. I appreciate his effort to make me comfortable with his friends. He’s probably figured out by now, I’m a listener more than a talker. I like to observe the people around me, and that’s how I tend to learn things about them. Lies can fall easily from lips, but body language and expressions are rarely misleading.

The waitress brings pitchers of beer and a slew of appetizers. “We come in here starving, so we have a standing order to avoid waiting. We all make sure Arthur and his staff are tipped well enough to make it worthwhile,” he tells me.

“I bet his employees love working on the days you guys are in.” I take a sip of beer and lick my lips.

“I hope they do. We can get loud and a little rowdy on occasion, but no one’s been kicked out yet.”

“You seem to only have issues when you play the night games.” I turn my head toward him to see his reaction.

He