The Wild Card: A Small Town Fake Dating Sports Romance (The Wild Westbrooks Book 3)(6)

Knox nudges me to get out of the booth. “Let’s get a move on, bro.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Shaking myself out of my trance, I throw back the last of my water. I slip out of the booth, rising to my feet.

Time to focus.

The Paragons haven’t been doing too hot this season so far, and I don’t exactly get enough playing time to make much of a difference. But if the opportunity to get on the field comes my way tonight, I have to be ready.

So, I’ll give football all my attention. For now.





3





NADIA





I need a nap. An orgasm and a nap.

Preferably in that order. But at this point, I’m not even picky.

Another yawn pushes its way past my lips and although I’d like nothing better than to fall face-first into my cushy king-sized bed, there’s a stack of folders piled on the corner of my desk, waiting for my attention.

This workday is far from over. So, I’m going to have to settle for another cup of coffee.

I hit ‘save’ on the morality clause that I’m re-writing for the third time and rise from my desk. Drafting and revising Paragons contracts is usually my favorite part of my job as chief in-house counsel for Liam Kline’s corporate empire. Usually. But I’m feeling a bit low energy at the moment.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s never a dull moment here at Liam’s firm. And normally having a lunch date is a nice break to the workday. But today’s disappointing rendez-vous with Laurent just wore me out.

I amble into the break room where my brilliant coworkers—and amazing friends—are rummaging for snacks and poking at the coffee machine. “Consider this the official announcement—I give up on men!”

At my declaration, Sera takes a quick break from rooting around in the office fridge to roll her eyes at me. “You’ve said that a million times, hun. We all know you’ll miss dick too much,” she deadpans, caressing her tiny baby bump.

“She’s right.” Eliza kisses the head of the sleeping newborn strapped to her perky, post-pregnancy chest. She snatches the strawberry yogurt Sera stretches out to her. “And we all know you tend to get cranky when you go too long without a little fadoodling.”

“Fa-what?!” I ask with a laugh, pretending not to know what they’re talking about.

“Playing tangletoes,” Sera explains.

“Shaking the sheets,” Eliza contributes.

“Boiling the cabbage.”

“Taking the intimate journey.”

“Raveling up the little ball of yarn.”

I hold up a hand, laughing harder. “Okay. Thank you. I get the picture.”

“Good god. If she wasn’t your friend, Nadia would sue you guys for harassment.” Desiree laughs, taking a clean mug from the dishwasher, filling it halfway with coffee and passing it to me. Always the mom of everyone. A great one, at that.

“That wasn’t harassment,” Sera quips. “This would be harassment.” She swats my ass, and I yelp, before dropping into a seat at the small table.

“Harassment or not, that’s the most action I’ve gotten in months,” I mutter, blotting up some spilled coffee with a napkin. “No dick on the horizon for me.” I pout as the girls lower into the other chairs around the table.

“Sounds like the lunch date was a dud?” Desiree asks, her voice sympathetic.

I laugh dryly and proceed to fill them in on my disastrous date, starting with the fairy tale beginning and how I was practically planning our destination wedding before things went south in the blink of an eye. No joke—I’m still dizzy from the whiplash that wretched man gave me.

“I’m all for non-exclusive dating. Heck, I endorse it, at least until you start seeing a future with someone. But dating four different women in a single day? And having sex with as many of them as you can bag?” I shudder and dump one too many sugar cubes into my mug. “I’m no prude, but that skeeves me out a bit.”

“Gross. Sounds like an STD on wheels,” Eliza grimaces.

“You totally dodged a bullet with that loser,” Sera says as she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “But still, you shouldn’t give up.”

My eyes flit around the table at my friends, at their happy faces, at their glittering diamond wedding rings, at their expanding families. “Easy for you happily married bitches to say,” I mumble, peeking longingly at Eliza’s baby. So adorable. “I’m starting to think love’s not in the cards for me, girls.”

She softly pokes me in the side. “Don’t let one asshole ruin it for you. We all went through loser after loser,” she reminds me in a reassuring tone, “and eventually, we found love.”

“Even me.” Desiree tilts her head and lifts her eyebrows for emphasis. “And I know all about skeevy partners and failed relationships,” she offers, referring to her first marriage. Her ex-husband is a real piece of work who left her as a struggling single mother to their son. But now she’s married to her high school sweetheart and gave birth to their adorable daughter only weeks ago. She’s happier than ever. “You can’t let the potential disappointments stop you.”

“The disappointments aren’t potential. They are very real. And endless.” I cringe. “I’m glad you’ve all found love. You truly deserve it. But it’s not in the cards for everyone. I might never have what you guys do, and that’s okay. I’ve got a great career and a nice place to call home.” A loaded sigh leaves me. “All I’m missing is some orgasms.”