The Wild Card: A Small Town Fake Dating Sports Romance (The Wild Westbrooks Book 3)(4)

She smells divine. Like vanilla. No, buttercream. Rich buttercream…and…fresh peaches and…berries.

And her curves—holy hell. Her hips feel good under my hands...I knew it. In all these months that I’ve known her, I always fantasized that her curves would feel this good pressed against me.

Instantly, I feel movement in my sweatpants. I think she feels it, too. I freeze.

Nadia’s eyes widen.

Then they narrow, her brows pinching disapprovingly.

Busted. I feel like a teenager whose crush just caught him beating off to her yearbook picture. This woman is reading my thoughts like a transcript. And she clearly does not approve.

Then someone bumps into me from the back and breaks the spell. Nadia pushes off my chest, stumbling backward and putting some distance between us.

“Nadia Chester, in the flesh!” Maxwell tips his chin at her with a grin.

“The secret weapon of the Paragons!” Knox salutes her.

All the guys greet Nadia as they enter. She’s the in-house counsel for our football team, but even if she wasn’t, I think they’d all respect her just the same. She just commands respect. There aren’t many women around that are as smart, gorgeous, and intimidating as Nadia Chester.

She’s the ultimate package.

“Hey, counsellor! Thanks for getting me out of that legal shitshow a few weeks ago when I ‘accidentally’ hit that tabloid guy with the football.” Jude gallantly bows at the waist.

She blinks and her head whips around like she’s just realizing that my teammates are here, too. She automatically switches into ultra-professional lawyer mode. “Lucky for you, I’m the best attorney on this side of the country.” Nadia shakes her head scoldingly. “Another lawyer may not have been able to get you out of that mess so easily. You really beamed that guy.”

“Allegedly,” Jude pipes up, an index finger pointed toward the sky.

Her dark eyes light with mirth. “Of course. Allegedly.”

My friend grins and pops the collar of his winter coat. “Hey, if the football thing doesn’t pan out, I might have a future as a lawyer.”

“Keep dreaming, dimwit.” Maxwell slaps the back of Jude’s head.

My teammates keep on walking, leaving me and Nadia behind by the restaurant's front entrance.

Maxwell tilts his head at me as he goes, speaking in his ‘team captain’ voice. “We’ve gotta be out of here in half an hour, buddy.”

We just finished up with our game day meeting. We have a flight to catch in a couple hours to our away game tonight, so we’re here to grab a quick bite before heading to the airport.

I nod at Maxwell. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute. Save me a seat.”

“We’ll get you a highchair, rookie,” one of them tosses in my direction.

“You know,” Knox mumbles so that only I can hear. “For when you come back crying, after you make a fool of yourself. Again.” He’s chuckling under his breath as he strolls off.

Fuck—I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. And to throw up a middle finger, too. Those old turds never fail to give me shit for being one of the youngest. And most days, I’d have the perfect one-line comeback to take them down a few pegs. A lot of the time, I’m as big of a goofball as they all are.

But not in front of Nadia. In front of Nadia, I’m a gentleman. In front of Nadia, I’m on my best goddamned behavior.

Those assholes love to push my buttons. But I’m not mad. It’s no secret among the Paragons that I have the hots for the hottest woman in town. I haven’t exactly been subtle about my crush on her.

But it’s also no secret that Nadia won’t give me the time of day.

I’ve tried asking her out. Many times.

I’ve invited her to dinner. To grab coffee. To walk around the park. To workout together. To be my plus-one at the team’s Christmas party.

Each time I shoot my shot, she shoots me down.

The woman has given me every excuse in the book by now.

I’m too young for her.

She’s too old for me.

I’m a quote-unquote ‘playboy’.

She doesn’t date athletes.

She’s the team’s lawyer.

I’d be a conflict of interest.

It wouldn’t be professional.

The list goes on and on. She might as well color-code all her excuses and put them into an Excel sheet.

Fine. Her points are valid. Plus, she’s way out of my league. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try and change her mind.

Nervous, I adjust my baseball cap, turning the bill backwards. “How have you been?” I ask as she steals a peek over her shoulder. “Have you, uh, how’s…how’s work? Good?” My words stumble around inside my mouth. I’m trying to get a conversation started with her—hell, I’m trying to ask her out again—but she doesn’t seem to be listening. “I’ve been thinking…uh…have you...?”

Again, she quickly glances at something behind her. She frowns.

So do I. “Hey, Nadia. Are you okay?”

She peeks over her back one more time, eyeballing a table at the back of the restaurant. “Huh? Oh. Yes. I’m great.”

I follow her gaze and find some slick-haired dude sitting alone at a table set for two. He’s flirting up a storm with a waitress.