Quarterback Sneak Read Free

boxes and bags and suitcases were in her
place, he grabbed two bottles of beer from his fridge and carried them over
there. She opened the door, her face set in a fierce frown. He’d never met a
woman with quite so much attitude, and he wondered where the hell it came from.
For a moment, he thought she might send him away. But he held up the beer and
offered a hopeful smile. “Hi, I’m the welcome wagon.”
    Then her eyes lit on the beer and her
tight mouth relaxed into a rueful grin. “I sure could use one of those—moving
day is always a bear.”
    Not that Max didn’t have plenty of
women in his life. Even as a backup on the team, he was sought after by the
football groupies. Plus, all his friends who were coupled kept trying to fix
him up. He played it casually, never indicating a situation was anything but
relaxed and fun. He had yet to find a woman he wanted to see more than three or
four times, and certainly not one he considered making a part of his life.
    Then Stacy marched into his life,
and he’d been hooked ever since.
    He struggled with being her friend
when he wanted to rip her clothes off, drag her into his bed, and tell her how
he felt. Especially since, from their conversations, she considered him a
friend, no more, so he took what he could get. Only it burned his ass the way
she constantly chose—okay, her word— assholes who didn’t treat her the
way he thought they should.
    Three years later, he remained in
the first quarter, except here was a chance to revise the game plan. He would
have to do it very carefully, like the field general he was.
    “Max?”
    Stacy’s voice penetrated his mental
fog, startling him.
    “Your suggestion?” she reminded
him. “Although you’ve been looking at me like I have grease on my face or
something, so I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
    He cleared his throat. “Got any
more beer?”
    She waved a hand toward the
kitchen. “Help yourself. And bring me one, too.”
    He frowned. “Really? You’ve been
sucking down that wine, and I don’t think they go together too well.”
    “Who are you, my mother?” she
snapped.
    “Not hardly,” he said in a soft
voice. “I’m your very good friend.” And then so low he half-hoped she didn’t
hear it, “And maybe even a little more than that.”
    When they were each holding
ice-cold ones, he sat down, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, and took a
long swallow of the cool, fortifying liquid. If she said no to his suggestion,
he was shit out of luck. All the way around.
    “I have a game plan to propose.”
    She lifted one eyebrow. “Oh? Well,
give.”
    Another swallow. Jesus, he wasn’t
this nervous even before a kickoff.
    “What if we pretend to be a couple?
I could be the guy who sweeps you off your feet. Sends you chocolates and
flowers.” When her eyes flew wide, he hurried on. “Just hear me out. Not to
brag or anything, but I am the Warriors’ number one backup quarterback.
I get my share of publicity. Women tell me I’m not bad looking. I know not to
wipe my nose with my hand, and I always wear clean clothes. I’ve been told I have
a high profile in the hot guy department.”
    She gaped at him.
    “I can certainly do the whole
Valentine’s schtick you mentioned before,” he continued. “You know, come to
your office to pick you up for lunch. Send flowers and gifts. Give you a little
squeeze and a peck so word gets back to the asshole. And anyone else who needs
an attitude adjustment.”
    He waited for her to make a
comment. Why didn’t she say anything?
    “Well?” His nerves were doing a
jitterbug. Had he blown his chance with her? “What do you think? We could make
it work.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you hate the idea.”
    “Um, no.” Finally, she snapped out
of her trance. “No, I don’t hate it.”
    “Then what’s with the funny
expression on your face?”
    She gave an unsteady chuckle. “I’m
stunned you would make such an offer. For me. Like this.”
    “Hey.” He