Page 61 of The Stand-In


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“Looks like.” I grin and do a little shimmy in my pencil skirt and heels. “And he’s ahotboyfriend.”

Rome rolls his eyes, and we step over to the sidelines to watch the scrimmage.

The guys are on the field, some in white jerseys, others in blue.

Ike Harrison calls the snap, pulls back, and throws a perfect spiral down the field for a touchdown.

“Ike’s fucking great,” Rome says. “He’s smart as hell, too. He runs plays all week on paper, calling them out aloud. He never stops working.”

“It’s a different language each week,” I remind him. “For each game. He has to stay on top of it. His poor wife likely never sees him during the season.”

“He started taking every Tuesday off,” Rome replies. “At first, the coaching staff was against it, but he insisted. He needs twenty-four hours a week to rest, and it hasn’t affected his performance at all.”

“If anything, it’s made him stronger,” I agree with a nod. Another play is set up, and when Ike gets the ball, he’s taken out by a lineman and hits his headhardon the ground. Just then, Drew yells something out onto the field and then jogs out to talk to a defensive lineman. “Oh, he’smad.”

“You don’t fucking hit like that,” Drew yells, getting in the bigger man’s face. “Not in practice, and not on the field.”

“It was instinct,” the player replies, shaking his head. “That hit was hammered into me for years.”

“And now I’m hammering it out of you. No one leaves this field with a concussion if we can help it, got that?”

“Sorry, Coach,” the player says and jogs off to join his team.

“Fucking idiot,” Drew mutters while walking back to the sideline.

“He didn’t like that,” I murmur.

“No wonder,” Rome says. “That exact hit is the reason Drew isn’t a quarterback himself.”

I turn to my brother, surprised. “What?”

“Have him tell you about it sometime.”

“Trust me, I will.”

“I haveto move my cousin into the compound this evening,” Drew says as he walks into my office. “Wanna come? You don’t have to actually lift anything if you don’t want to, but I thought you’d get a kick out of seeing the place. We can pick up Caleb on the way.”

I raise an eyebrow as I smile at the man I suddenly can’t stop thinking about. “Why don’t we just hire movers?”

“There’s no adventure in that,” he returns. “And it’s a rite of passage to have to move your own shit into your first place. My cousin, Chelsea, is moving out of her parents’ place and into the compound since I freed up some space.”

He frowns now.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, now that I think about it, they already filled the space I was in with a‘Zen shed’.So, where is Chelsea bunking?”

“I would have no idea,” I remind him. “But sure, we’ll come with you.”

“Cool. Are you ready now?”

I glance at my computer screen and the dozen or so emails that I should return, and then turn it off.

“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text Quinn and give her a heads-up.”

I grab my computer bag, handbag, and jacket, and when I reach Drew, he doesn’t open the door for me. Instead, he frames my face and kisses me, long and slow.

Of course, my hands are full so I can’t lean in and wrap my arms around him, but the kiss is delicious and just what I needed.

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