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

time with him. I didn’t do a good job of it last night, so I need to do better starting now.

13

Flynn

I pull into Nadia’s driveway and park the truck.

“Thanks for the ride home.” Her hand is already on the door handle.

Shutting down the engine, I jump out and pocket my keys. In a few strides, I catch up with her.

“You don’t need to walk me to the door.”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“I appreciate how polite you are, but it’s unnecessary,” she continues.

“We’re almost to the door now,” I say.

“For future reference then.” She tugs her key ring from her purse and unlocks the door. But she doesn’t push it open. Instead, she leans back against it, blocking me. She’s made it pretty obvious she doesn’t want me going inside, but why?

“I know you said you have paperwork to go over, but I’d like to come in for a bit.”

She nods emphatically. “Yes, I do. Lots and lots of paperwork. Tonight’s not a good time.”

“I had a shit night and I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you. Why don’t you call Kendra and see if she’ll head to your place?”

“I texted her earlier. She’s out with friends.” She grinds her top teeth over her bottom lip, avoiding my gaze. “Nadia,” I husk her name. “I’m going to be brutally honest here and probably hate myself for it tomorrow.” Her dark eyes fly to my face. “If I leave here, I’ll be tempted to go out and get banged up. That’s what I usually do when we lose a game. I drink too much and find someone to fuck.” Her face twists into a pained expression, and I know my past lifestyle is distasteful for her. I throw my hands up. “You may not want to hear it, but it’s the truth.”

“I promise I’m not judging you for your past. I’m sorry you felt like that was the only outlet for you.”

“It still is.” She already said she has work to do, and Kendra is busy. If I meet up with the guys, I’ll only be asking for trouble. I can’t risk my job in the name of blowing off steam.

She touches my arm, drawing my attention. “No, it’s not. Come on inside and I can make something for us to eat. I think I even have some wine and beer.”

“I don't want to get in the way of your work,” I tell her.

“You won’t be.” Turning the knob, she opens the door. Stepping backward into the foyer, her gaze remains on me still standing on the front stoop. “Flynn, get your ass in here,” she mockingly orders.

I grin, glad that she brought humor to the situation. “I thought you’d never ask.” Following her, I close the door behind me and pause to soak up the welcoming feeling her home offers. It’s just as strong as the first time I was here.

Slipping her shoes off, she sets her purse and keys on the small table. I slide my shoes off too. “Let’s head to the kitchen and see what I can scrounge up.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m starving.”

“I bet,” she says, hurrying along. I lag behind a bit so I can enjoy the sight of her ass and long legs wrapped in tight black jeans. Tugging the large fridge door open, she disappears behind it. “You must work up quite an appetite when you play.”

“For sure,” I agree.

I hear the sound of her rummaging around before she reappears with an armful of ingredients. She sets them down on the counter and spins around. “How do sandwiches sound? I’ve got turkey, cheese, and roast beef.”

“Honestly, anything is fine. I’ll be happy with toast at this point.”

“I think we can do better than that. I have pickles and tomatoes too.” Opening and closing cabinets and drawers, she grabs everything we need.

“What can I do to help?”

She points to the island. “Get yourself a drink and go sit down. It’s easier for me if I can make them without you in the way.”

Laughing at her blunt reply, I grab a beer from the fridge and settle onto a metal stool, facing her. I silently observe as she cuts a loaf of French bread into pieces. “Do you like mayo and mustard?” she calls out.

“Yes, please.” I sip the cold beer and let my thoughts drift to what it would be like to come home to such a welcoming atmosphere all the time.

What would it be like to have someone who cared about my happiness and went out of their way to make sure I was taken care of at the end of a hard day of practice or after losing a game?

And how would it feel to love someone more than football? To love them above all else?

I can’t say. I have no personal experience when it comes to monogamous relationships. This past week with Nadia is the closest I’ve ever come to being in one. The strange thing is, I’m not hating spending so much time with her. In fact, I’m enjoying every moment—maybe even too much.

Hanging out with Nadia is comfortable and fun. She’s brainy but still relatable, and physically, everything about her is alluring.

“Take as many as you want.” There are sliced tomatoes and pickles in a small bowl in the center of six sandwiches on a platter. She sets plates out for each of us and places a large bowl of potato chips on the marble slab.

“Nadia, you’re an angel. Thank you so much. I didn’t want you to go to so much trouble.”

“This is nothing. It’s kind of nice to have someone to feed. Usually it’s just me.”

Adding tomato, pickles, and chips to my sandwich, I take a bite. It’s so good, I take another and can barely chew all the food in my mouth. Nadia titters as her dark chocolate orbs view my obvious enjoyment. She scoops up a sandwich and takes a bite before nodding.

“Delicious, right?”