The Trouble With Quarterbacks Read online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
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“Uh, no. I don’t even remember. Maybe it came this way?”

My move to New York was all a blur. I finished playing football in college, signed a deal with the pros, moved from Florida on a Sunday and was due at practice the very next morning. My agent helped me find this place and set up the move. I don’t even think I unpacked a single box. I got home after practice and my life was set up for me, cable and all.

“Well the location is great. You’ve got the city at your fingertips.”

When she says fingertips, hers reach out to touch my arm, and I glance down, more than a little annoyed. Where’s Darius? This is his party. These are his friends. I know like ten people here, and they’re all my teammates.

I hear a familiar voice and glance up to see Melody cutting through the crowd of women to get to me. I’m relieved to see her up until she wraps me in a hug then lays a possessive arm around my waist as she steps to take the place at my side.

“You sure know how to draw a crowd,” she teases.

I let her keep her arm around me for a second, and then as graciously as possible, I step out of her hold.

“You have Darius to thank for that.”

She laughs and crosses her arms, her expression tightening slightly as I pull away from her. “No, I mean these girls.”

The jealousy is a little unwarranted considering I’ve made it clear I don’t see us moving forward. After our second date, it was pretty obvious to me that I have absolutely no feelings for her. We haven’t talked since then and I didn’t even invite her here tonight, but I guess Darius took it upon himself to do that too.

“What have you been up to these last few weeks? Busy as usual?” She doesn’t give me time to reply before continuing, “God, District was so fun.”

Was it? I felt like an ass for ignoring her for half the night. I assumed she was as done with me as I was with her.

“Are you two friends?”

This question is asked by one of the women standing around us, and it’s perfect timing, actually, because I spot Candace across the room and my heart starts to thunder in my chest. She came. She’s here. She’s over by the food and she’s somehow managed to corral one of the circulating waiters. Instead of taking food from his tray, she’s just talking to him, as if all the famous people in the room mean nothing to her. She’d rather spend her night talking with the hired help.

He throws his head back and laughs, and she’s laughing too. Then he says something and goes over to load up his tray with more tiny portions he can dole out to the crowd. She reaches out for his tray, asking him something, and he passes it over, letting her hold it while he fills it up.

He nods in thanks and leaves to continue doing his job. Now she’s left all alone.

I’m not sure if her roommates came with her, but they’re not by her side now. She glances around and then, seemingly at a loss for what to do, she sort of starts to bob to the music before finally noticing me watching her.

She beams and lifts her hand, waving enthusiastically.

I wave back as my stomach clenches tight, and it’s obvious why. She’s so beautiful, like she’s the only one in the room with a real pulse.

That red dress is a blaring fire engine drawing my attention. It’s cut so short on her legs, and they look miles long even though they can’t be; she’s not that tall. Her blonde hair is curly and loose, framing her sweet face and red lips. She’s a candy confection standing there all alone.

She keeps my attention and holds up her finger as she steps back to motion at the chip bowl. She makes a real show of reaching in to grab one then winks at me as she pops it into her mouth.

I’m totally enamored, a smile stretching so wide across my face my cheeks start to ache.

It’s like she’s the best TV show I’ve ever watched and I have to know what happens next.

I raise my drink to my mouth as she starts to dance. She lifts her hand to pinch her nose then shimmies low like she’s going under water. Next, it’s the Sprinkler. After that, she loads groceries into her cart. I’m smiling, and it feels like she’s hijacked the whole party. No one else is here, just her and her ridiculous dance moves and her bright red lips—right up until a guy cuts her off mid-spin. He must compliment her because her cheeks burn bright pink. Then he says something else and she motions back to the chip bowl. He reaches in for some of his own, and just like that, they’re talking.


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