The O Line (Gridiron Love #0) Read Online Layne Daniels

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Gridiron Love Series by Layne Daniels

Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)

People call me Milo “The Silo” Granville because I’m as big as one. On and off the field I make sure there are openings for the big plays to happen. Football is easy. Being the wingman for our running back Burke, not as much. It’s been my role since we were red-shirt freshman together. Now, we’re together in the pros, and I spend as much time watching him score with the ladies as he does on the turf.
I’ve gotten good at ignoring the way women flirt with me to get closer to him, so I’ve got no game when the hottest woman I’ve ever seen ignores all his best moves in favor of talking to me. I’m so busy trying to figure out why she’s interested in me I nearly blow my chance to score with her at all by putting my giant foot in my mouth. Now I’ve offended a goddess and that never ends well.
She makes me a deal. If I can solve a rather embarrassing personal problem for her, she’ll forgive my fumble.

Tansie’s looking at me as if I’m the real playmaker. The pressure’s on to make it happen. It may be a Hail Mary, but no guts, no glory.


Chapter One

Milo Granville

“No, but seriously, Beautiful, you’re hot. I’m hot. Why are you denying the chance at all of this?” Sitting at the bar top next to Burke the Body Rogers while he hits on the smoking hot cocktail waitress every time she swings by our table is amusing, if for no other reason than the way she’s shooting him down. Every fuckin’ time.

“You don’t have what it takes to handle me, Bod. Believe that.” Her set down isn’t mean spirited or rude, but it’s got Burke rocking back in his seat. Her green eyes smile at him when she says it. Still, it’s clear she’s not issuing a challenge. She honestly doesn’t believe he’d rock her world. It’s mind boggling.

Women don’t turn down Burke’s advances. Not that he’s a total dog, but he definitely enjoys his fair share of the ladies who are interested in professional athletes. As a quarterback for the Mariposa Kings, he’s arguably the best in the league. Maybe, it’s arrogance on my part, but much of the reason for that label is me.

I’ve been blocking and clearing paths for his runs for three years now, and though the back of my jersey reads Granville, nearly everyone on earth calls me Silo. My actual name is Milo Granville, but I’ve been ‘big as a silo’ practically since I was born. At least, to hear my grandpa tell it. Since he’s the one who raised me on the family farm, I figure he can call me whatever he likes. Once I hit high school and made the varsity football team, while my freshman classmates were still battling for spots on the JV reserve roster, I quit caring that I’m taller and wider than most everyone else.

The waitress turns to me with a new smile on her face, one I’m uncertain I’m reading accurately. My confusion grows even greater when she slides her hand up my arm from my elbow to the shoulder before tugging on a loose curl that brushes the collar of my button down. The move sends a shot of lust straight to my dick, but I remind it to settle down. I’ve seen this move before. Playing a little hard to get, a little cat and mouse, makes guys like Burke work that much harder to score.

It’s not uncommon for a woman to make a play for me with her eye toward spurring some competitive lust in my buddy. I play wingman for him at the bar almost as much as when I’m blocking for him on the field. He loves it because while a lady might toy with taking me home instead of him, we all know, me included, it’ll be him playing with her by the end of the night.

When I turn my eyes to meet hers, she’s singularly focused on me. Her attention doesn’t stray a single time to check out if Burke is watching. I casually peek down at the nametag pinned above her left breast, the globe of her tit so ripe and lush it’d spill over even my oversized paws. When I lift my attention back to her gaze, she’s still focused on me. I don’t know what she’s playing at; he’s already interested in her. Hell, he’s made at least a half dozen attempts to chat her up the three times she’s visited our table tonight.

“Now, you, Mr. Granville, look like a man who knows how to properly take care of a girl like me.” Of course, she knows my name. It’s dumb to feel as flattered as I do. I may not be the face of the team like our QB, Rayshawn Marcos, is or a flirt who’s nearly as famous for his off-field exploits as his game performance like Burke, but the city’s not big enough for me to be a total unknown.