Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Yes.”
“When you’re a professional football player who makes a bajillion dollars a year?” Again, deadpan and suspicious.
And I could see through the needling — she wasn’t being facetious. She really didn’t understand why someone in the NFL wouldn’t buy a new car instead of a used one. It was a natural thing to wonder, honestly. My friends had questioned me for years about why I had yet to upgrade.
“I’m on a three-year rookie contract and a little shy of a bajillion,” I said.
She blinked, shaking her head. “I’m all for spending modestly, but I have to admit, I don’t think I’d be thinking about CARFAX if I knew I had a million dollars in the bank.”
My throat tightened.
I didn’t have a million dollars in the bank.
Not even close.
After taxes, my agent’s cut, my modest home, and the house I’d bought for my parents so they’d never have to worry about a mortgage again, the number sitting in my account hovered somewhere around three-hundred grand. Maybe a little more if the bonus check from training camp cleared when it was supposed to.
Three-hundred thousand sounded like a lot of money for a year until you factored in a full-time nurse who cost me eighty grand a year, and that football careers didn’t come with guarantees. One blown knee, one bad season, one phone call from the front office, and I could get to the end of this contract without any other offers waiting for me.
I needed that money to last.
I needed to make sure my family was provided for.
The train pulled to a stop, people shuffling on and off. When the doors shut again, I took the break in conversation to turn it to Emily.
“You didn’t have to do this with me today, you know,” I said.
“Weird way of saying thank you.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” I fumbled a bit when she smiled back. She was so goddamn beautiful it was like looking straight at the sun. “You were great with the girls today, by the way.”
“So were you.”
“Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Turn the attention away from yourself when someone says something nice.”
“Says the one dancing around every question I ask.”
“Fair,” I concede. “All right. How about we make a deal.”
“You show me yours I show you mine?” Emily whistled, looking around the train. “I mean, I’ve been waiting for this moment, but I have to say I kind of hoped it’d be in a more private location.”
She joked like she was about to take her top off; although, I wasn’t quite sure if she was joking because I had to physically wrap my hand around her wrist and stop her before she revealed her bra.
If she was even wearing one.
“You are a menace,” I breathed, looking around to make sure we hadn’t traumatized an old lady or something.
“Admit it. It turns you on.”
“Fucking hell,” I murmured. “The deal I was about to mention is you get to ask me one real thing that I have to answer, and I get to do the same to you.”
The humor left her at that. “This sounds far less fun than the deal I had in mind.”
“Scared?”
“No,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. But she shifted in her seat, looking around like someone might overhear us. “Just… whatever, fine. I get to go first.”
We hit another stop, people exiting and filing onto the train. When we started moving again, I waved a hand for her to continue.
“Why did you drive an old beat-up car, and now you’re stressing about going car shopping like you’re broke?”
I balked before a laugh choked out of me. “Wow, straight to the point, I see.”
“Hey, you’re the one who had the idea to be real. So come on, spill. Are you addicted to gambling or something?” She perked up, a mischievous smile on her face. “Oh! Or is it sex? Are you a sex addict? This might work out well for me, actually.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, slightly regretting my choice. But my curiosity about this girl apparently outweighed my self-preservation. Besides, I could tell the truth without sharing everything.
“I’m not an addict and I’m not broke,” I said. “Not exactly, anyway. I have money. I just… need to hold onto it. I don’t want to blow my wad on a new car when I have other, more important things to care for.”
“Like what?”
“My family.”
Emily was quiet then. Her brows pinched a little, mouth opening like she wanted to ask more but then thought better of it. It was like she knew that I’d shared what I was comfortable with, that we were at the end of my part of the deal.
“That’s really sweet.”
I nodded, my lips in a tight smile. “My turn.”
“No, I’m not wearing panties.”
I rolled my eyes so hard my eyelids fluttered, and Emily laughed, the sound light and sweet and airy. I wanted to bottle it up and play it on repeat.