CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 Chance, Jacob (suggested reading .TXT) 📖

artificial insemination there’s no man to worry about.”

“Yeah, but fucking is much more fun.”

14

Nadia

“More fun, yes, but then I’d be stuck sharing my child with someone I barely know. And what if I didn’t like him as a person? Then I’d need to worry about him being a negative influence on him or her. It’s much too complicated.”

“I see what you mean. But it’s not like you’re doing it tomorrow,” he says and then frowns. “You’re not doing it tomorrow or anytime soon, are you?”

“No.” My lips curl into a small smile. “I can’t very well be dating you and get pregnant at the same time.”

“Not unless you want people to assume I’m your baby’s daddy.”

“Uh, no, thanks.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know, I’d be a great dad,” he defends.

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I was thinking about how awkward it would be if people thought we had a child together.”

“That might be less awkward than if you had a child alone,” he says, tripping my anger.

“Flynn, that’s an outdated way of thinking. Women can do whatever they want and they don’t need a man by their side.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Before you bite my head off, let me explain what I meant.” He angles himself toward me on the couch. “I know women are strong—no, I know you’re strong--and can raise a baby alone. When I said it might be less awkward if you had a man by your side, I was referring to the amount of speculation that will arise when you do get pregnant. Naturally, people will wonder who the baby’s father is, and any man you’ve spent time with will be fodder for the gossip sites.”

His explanation soothes my ruffled feathers. “I’m not worried about my personal business being on those sites. I’m an agent, not an athlete. Once you and I aren’t together anymore, no one will care what I’m doing. I’ll fade back into oblivion like my pre-Flynn days when no one paid me any mind.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy for you. Have you seen the attention we’re starting to get on social media?” he asks.

“I try not to pay attention to that stuff, but I did get a call from your sister. She was mad we didn’t tell her we were together. She said that as your personal assistant and publicist, she had a right to know as soon as we did.”

“Were we supposed to get her approval first?”

“I think she’d have preferred that.”

“She saw us out together and didn’t put two and two together. That’s not our fault.”

“Maybe you should talk to her,” I suggest.

“She’ll get over it. Did she at least ask if you’d lost your mind?” His crooked smile is endearing.

“No. She told me not to break your heart. She said that a really sweet guy resides underneath all your bad boy exterior.”

He chuckles. “That sounds like Kendra. She likes to romanticize everything.”

“Are you saying the sweet guy is a myth?” I question.

“I’m not saying anything. I’ll let you be the judge.” He stands. “I’m grabbing a refill, do you need anything?”

“There are some small bottles of margaritas in the fridge. I’d love one of those, please.”

“No problem.” He moves fluidly and confidently, like a lion prowling through the jungle. He’s the king shit and everyone else but me accepts it as status quo. My gaze follows him until he’s out of my line of vision.

Resting the side of my head on the back of the couch, I close my eyes. I didn’t mean to share my desire to have a child with him. It sort of slipped out in our conversation, and when he took the news in stride, I felt comfortable enough to tell him more. Our relationship has already changed from what it once was. He’s someone I consider a friend, and I like our conversations. He’s easy to share my secrets with. He’s become a really hot best friend, and I know it’s going to be a continuous battle to fight my attraction to him.

“Do you want to go to bed?” My eyelids pop open at his question. I raise my head. “I don’t want to keep you up later than you want to be. I can leave if you’d like,” he says.

“No, I was just going over my to-do list for tomorrow.”

He hands me the open margarita bottle. “This will help you forget about work for now.”

“Is that what having a few drinks after a loss does for you?” I might be jumping from the pan into the fire bringing this up, but he did mention it to me earlier in the night.

He sprawls onto the cushion closest to mine, legs spread, looking ultra relaxed and unfazed by my question. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“But does it help?” I prod, doing my best to ignore how close in proximity we now are. Especially with me sitting sideways facing him. His hip and thigh are touching my knee and shin and there’s no smooth way to extricate myself from this space.

“Going to a club or a bar with my teammates to blow off steam never works out in my favor, so I’d say, no, it doesn’t help. But it’s fun while it’s happening, so there’s that.”

“What about tonight?” I nudge.

“What about it?”

“Does sitting here, talking with me, help?” Why did I ask that? I sound insecure, like I’m seeking a compliment from him.

He focuses on his beer bottle like it’s the most interesting thing he’s seen and then his head turns, bright blue eyes meeting mine. His head tips in a slow, solemn nod. “Yes, being here with you has helped.”

“I’m glad.” My mouth curves in a closed-lip smile. “It was my sandwiches, wasn’t it?”

He laughs. “Actually it’s your perfect ass, but the sandwiches helped.” He raises the bottle to his masculine lips, taking a deep pull.

“You’re an ass.” I joke, shaking my head. “So, you’re an ass man?”

“I don’t like to limit myself.” He winks and licks the beer